#also i wrote this literally this morning during my coffee so if you see any typos NO YOU DIDN'T

[verbenaa]

snippet sunday 😈

thank you to @elinorbard for tagging meeeee you're the best 💖

hello and happy kinktober. I'm behind on my fics for this month but worry not, for I am 100% COOKING. here's a snippet from one of them 🥵

tagginggggg @khywren @xxnashiraxx @inkymoonbunny @roguishcat @ladyduellist @justabiteofspite @preciouslittlebhaalbae @eraserspiral and anyone else to post something if you want to ✨💖!!!

[mustangbby]

merry christmas!

featuring... tecchou suehiro, jouno saigiku, chuuya nakahara, nikolai gogol, kinich, wriothesley, lyney, kamisato ayato, kaedehara kazuha, boothill.

description... what do you guys do on christmas day??

authors note... MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS GUYS i wanted to write small little things about each of my favs from my three main fandoms lolllll! i hope all of ur guys christmas is going so well so far :)))) quite literally wrote this by alternating between hyaena by travis scott and tyler durden by madison beer so this might be all over the place

*i do take requests by the way!!!!! i'm just writing my own thoughts for now

warnings... none! some do lean towards fem!reader tho

🎧 all i want for christmas is you : mariah carey

tecchou suehiro

really, all the man wants to do is take the day to sleep and hangout with you.

there's some gift exchanging, you both picked out a few little things for each other that you passed over during breakfast. but then it was straight back to bed for both of you. all he wants to do is cuddle you all day. it's so cold out, and when does he ever get to have a day off????

you watch some christmas movies and make a nice dinner in the afternoon. he's mainly just watching, hanging out next to you (and accidentally getting in your way, but that's alright) because seriously, who would trust this man to cook.

to the both of you, it was a very relaxing day. staying inside, drinking tea and hot chocolate while snuggling up to each other. he just wishes he didn't have to get right back on his work schedule tomorrow...

jouno saigiku

he's so used to getting up early, that the day starts at 6:30 in the morning (if you're lucky).

like tecchou, he doesn't go full out with gifts. you've pretty much got everything you need, and he only heard you mention just a few things you've been looking at. so he got that for you.

you both exchanged gifts before you got out of bed. and when you did, you went out for a nice little breakfast and took a walk around the city. it was very pleasant; you got coffee and had walked to look at all the christmas displays (although he may not be able to see them, the most important part of it all was getting to spend his day with you).

dinner isn't very big at all. you were out all day, and you got a nice breakfast, so dinner was just what it could be any regular day.

the night was ended with cuddles to sleep! he's not one for physical intimacy, but sometimes, during times like these, it's nice.

chuuya nakahara

oh, what a lavish christmas you had.

the tree was piled with gifts. all for you. you insisted it was far too much, that what you'd bought him would never amount to this, but he waved it off, taking the gifts you got for him out of your hands and opening them with gratitude.

he made breakfast while you opened the rest of the gifts. a nice set of earrings, a new expensive handbag, you name it. you thanked him with a fat kiss on the lips before digging into breakfast.

it was a pretty chill day. he took you out for a very nice dinner later on, saying it was the "grand finale" to his gift giving. he was sure to order the most expensive red wine on the menu, letting you indulge in whatever you wanted (even though he never looks at the prices).

he ended it off by opening up a wine he treasured and sharing the bottle with you when you both got home. you were curled up on the couch under a fuzzy sherpa blanket, before eventually falling asleep on his shoulder.

nikolai gogol

an interesting christmas, to say the least...

he was so excited! he looked like a kid in a candy store, which made you laugh. he got you gifts that he absolutely knew you'd enjoy, making sure to compare them to things you tend to gravitate to and going from there.

he was also all the more grateful for what you got him, of course.

somehow, it was a more relaxing day. but he was extremely clingy.

when i say extremely, i mean extremely. if you needed to get up to grab something from the kitchen, or you were hungry, or whatever it may have been, he wouldn't let go of your waist, slowly walking with you to wherever it may be you needed to go (besides the bathroom. but he'd still put up a fuss about you leaving him in the "freezing cold").

it kinda stayed like that the whole day. you eventually had dinner, and that felt like the only separation you had from him (which, in the nicest way possible, felt like a breath of fresh air. but you could never be tired of him, right?)

you ended the night with a warm bath, sitting in his lap as he gently washed your hair. gentle was a huge contrast to who he is and what he'd usually do, but it's nice for a change every so often.

kinich

honestly, it felt like a regular day to kinich. he never really got a true christmas when he was younger, so he never viewed it as something he needed to celebrate.

that was until you came along.

all you both wanted to do was sleep in, but there's no way in teyvat ajaw was going to let you. he woke kinich first (because your his favorite human, and he's just there to annoy kinich) and demanded that kinich wake you up.

the day started with gift exchanging, as it usually goes during christmas. you gave your gifts to kinich and ajaw, and ajaw and kinich gave theirs to you. ajaw was seemingly very satisfied with the tiny little green scarf you knitted him.

you made a light breakfast before going into the inner city of natlan and joining in on the small christmas festival that was going on. you met up with mualani and kachina, and ajaw showed off his brand new scarf (a good way to keep him occupied from being a total bitch. you and kinich were very proud when mualani asked you what you changed).

it was like that up until dinner, where you stopped at a small little restraunt on the way home. kinich put ajaw in timeout, so you could have this moment together. the walk home was even more peaceful, and after getting home, it was straight to bed.

wriothesley

if i'm being honest, he probably forgot it was christmas...

he had gifts ready, but being down in the fortress almost every day screws up the sense of time, it seems. that was until you hurried up the stairs to his office, a few boxes in hand. he took the ones he had for you out from under his desk, and you opened the gifts while chatting over tea.

sigewinne came by to wish a merry christmas and handed you two little cards before heading back to work. they were the same cards, just different little messages on the inside (sigewinne is so sweet i love her so much i just had to include her...)

you both went up to the surface and took a walk around fontaine before heading off to have an early dinner. lyney and lynette were having a little christmas special magic show, so you bought tickets, and would see the show after dinner.

dinner was pleasant, and so was the walk to the opera epicles. you both found your seats and intently watched the show, performed by the one and only, lyney and lynette.

after the show was over, it was about time to head home. he normally would have stopped by the fortress once more, but chose not to because he just needed to have the rest of the night with you. there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and though it was a little chilly, the night ended with a little bit of stargazing.

lyney

he's so excited!! christmas is his favorite holiday, mostly for the fact that it brings all of his family and friends together.

he couldn't wait for today, specifically because he put his blood sweat and tears in finding you the perfect gift. when i say perfect, i mean something that you've mentioned a bunch, while also resembling him in a way.

and when he saw your face after you opened it, full of shock and gratitude, he almost died of a heart attack.

you spent the day with him, lynette, and freminet. you and freminet were making the food for dinner while lyney and lynette were performing little magic gigs in the inner city. it gave you some time to bond with freminet, and he turned out to be quite the help in the kitchen!!

dinner between you four was very pleasant. there was idle chatter, along with some nice jazz music in the background. the food was all devoured with only a few leftovers, which you decided you'd reheat them for lunch tomorrow.

lynette and freminet went back home, leaving you and lyney to yourselves. you cuddled the night away, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

kamisato ayato

the morning started by sleeping in. he really enjoyed that he was able to allow himself that joy for at least one day.

he didn't go crazy on gifts, just got a couple little things that may be small, but are very luxurious. bracelets, maybe a nice necklace, a hand-made kimono by the one and only chiori (although you wonder how he made that happen).

you both decided to have a slow morning. a little breakfast, then getting ready for the day. you both went into town, simply taking a little walk in order to pass time.

ah, but dinner was very luxurious. you had it with ayaka and thoma. the chefs had worked multiple hours, just for a bunch of food that may not even be eaten... but that's okay. there were so many options, and once you took your pick you sat down next to ayaka.

after dinner was over, you fell asleep almost instantly. you quite literally handed in your empty dish, bid ayaka and thoma a goodnight, and headed to shower. once you got out, you found ayato lying on his side. the night ended when you curled into his chest, shutting your eyes.

kaedehara kazuha

he started your day by waking you up with breakfast in bed, and a fresh cup of tea to go with it. after you finished eating, you both grabbed the presents you had for one another and exchanged gifts. he didn't splurge, he got you something that would be meaningful to you for the rest of your life. he's not one to attempt to buy your love.

you took a long walk. it was very refreshing - the harbor was bustling, and the breeze was cool and crisp, perfect sweater weather in your opinion. you took a break on a cliff, watching the waves, and eventually watching the first part of the sunset before walking back home.

dinner wasn't very big, making smaller portions that you both knew you could eat and going from there. he surprised you with a bottle of nice wine, and you drank that with the steak that was also served.

while cleaning the kitchen, there was christmas music playing in the background, and you both were dancing along a little bit. eventually, a song you both enjoyed came on, and you dropped everything and started to slow dance.

slow dancing ended up laying on top of one another on the couch, your head on his chest. and eventually, you closed your eyes. another successful christmas, you think to yourself.

boothill

this could go two ways. he could absolutely forget the holiday even existed and goes about it on a normal day, or he'd be super excited about it.

if it goes the first way, you'd just continue your day as if it was any normal day. you'd give him a small little gift though, and he'd immediately feel bad because he forgot. please reassure him that the gift isn't the thing that matters the most to you.

he'd take you out to a nice dinner, though. penaconys fanciest restraunt. he thinks it's the least he can do to make up for him being forgetful, and it worked. you completely forgot about the fact that he forgot the gift, and he eventually made it up to you by finding something really worth it and bringing it back to you.

if it went the second way, he'd probably wake you up pretty early to show you your present. you'd be scrambling to grab his and he'd be right up your ass until you saw everything he gave you (who can blame him? he's proud of himself).

he wants to spend all day with you. he also made sure to establish a while ago that there must be a tree. to really get into christmas spirit! you'd make a fire and watch some movies before he has you come with him to a nice dinner.

it's not the nicest place in penacony, but the food is certainly amazing. you chatter over your food, catching up with one another since he had just arrived from a pretty long mission.

the night ends with cuddles, cuddles, and even more cuddles! he hasn't seen you in a while, he's obviously gonna want to be all over you for the time he has with you. he falls asleep immediately, which leads you to slumber, as well.

[nickblaine]

season 5 script summaries

links to previous script summaries: season 4, season 3, season 2, season 1, seasons 1/2 cont’d also, check my tht scripts tag for gifs, excerpts, and more details

i got the librarian’s email about season 5 scripts, and even though driving to and parking at WGAW has become a literal nightmare, i said fuck it and flew (crawled in traffic) down there the very next day. i wanted to see what the mood was like during the strike, anyway.

the staff had the library running business as usual, but the energy was high and there were pro-union shirts everywhere. there were a couple of guys on the first floor making literal piles of picket signs. i chatted with them for a minute and they said everyone was mostly out on the streets, picketing at every major studio in the city. rock on WGA ✊

i was on a time limit to beat rush hour, so when i read the season 5 scripts it was only Nick scenes. i searched for all instances of his name and wrote down everything i could. i may go back to read the rest of the season, but i can’t make any promises on when that will be.

before i begin (same as last time):

• everything described here is from the official scripts that are archived at the Writers Guild in Los Angeles. • the scripts i read are final drafts. there is no “writing in the margins.” everything described is from dialogue and script direction that was used on set. (click for an example) • the library has a strict no copies/photos rule in place which is why i summarize what i read. • anything in italics is a direct quote for the sake of clarity. • feel free to ask questions and i’ll answer to the best of my ability. my private notes are pretty detailed, but if i need to do more research i may save the answer for a future library visit. • please do not share this post without my permission. thank you in advance for respecting my wishes.

5x01 - Morning

Nick and Rose’s morning scene in this episode is more or less the same as this early script draft. The only difference is after Nick tells Rose her coffee is good, there’s an additional line that says: “It’s a lie, and they both know it. Rose appreciates the polite kindness.”

5x02 - Ballet

There was a short scene of Nick and Joseph Lawrence having a private chat at the airport before meeting with Serena Joy. It was cut from the episode, but you can see it in the trailer.

In this scene, Lawrence confides in Nick that he’s nervous about the meeting with Serena because - in his words - “You had to let your girlfriend go after Fred.”

Nick assures Lawrence that they’re going to spin it as a savvy political move by blaming the Americans for killing Fred. Lawrence still chastises him for not doing his job. Then the conversation pivots (a little clunkily) to this line from the trailer:

NICK: Serena doesn’t know what happened.

LAWRENCE: Doesn’t matter what she knows. It matters what she believes.

When they meet Serena on the tarmac, she instantly has suspicions that they were responsible for Fred’s death. The conversation is tense until they all see Fred’s body getting rolled off the plane, then Serena needles Nick’s guilt and pokes at it with her “Fred saw promise in you” speech.

As they are leaving the tarmac, there’s a line that says “Nick acknowledges Mark with a nod” and Lawrence notices it. In the episode you can see Nick and Mark exchange looks in the background as they leave, but otherwise Lawrence doesn’t notice.

At the Putnam’s party later in the episode, you may have noticed that after the Handmaids arrive, Esther and Nick share a notable look. The script describes this as a fraught moment in which Nick is filled with remorse and wishing he could do more. It also says Esther remembers Nick from when he and the Eyes arrested her, and she’s visibly pissed about it. As they walk away from each other, “Nick can’t help but be reminded of June.”

While Serena Joy is manipulating the Commanders into broadcasting Fred’s funeral, Nick steps in because he’s moved by her bravery and “attempting to atone for his hand in killing Fred.”

In the secret meeting between Nick and Mark there were a few cut lines of dialogue. Most notable is after Nick tells him he just tries to stay out of trouble, Mark replies, “Catches up to everyone, at some point.“

Opaque, Nick thinks about that. How long does he think he can keep going?

Ok, so the end of the episode when the funeral is on TV in Canada, I’m happy to report that Nick IS mentioned in June’s inner dialogue. The scene describes her recognizing who is onscreen with Serena. First she sees Lawrence, and then... “And finally, most painfully -- NICK.” (Yes, in all caps like that, lol.)

5x03 - Border

Cute June inner-dialogue when Lily asks her if Nick’s a big Jezebels guy: “June doesn’t know how to explain what type of “guy” Nick is.”

The awkward Lawrence residence dinner scene. Commander Mackenzie genuinely loves Rose (”old friend of the family”) and is instantly distrustful of Nick. Serena doesn’t buy Nick and Rose’s relationship as genuine either, and tries to subtly acknowledge Rose’s close relationship with June’s daughter’s parents by telling him how lucky he is. Nick is tense, but then his banter with Rose relaxes him, making Serena surprised to observe real affection in their relationship.

During the dinner itself, Mackenzie is just making everyone extremely uncomfortable by bringing up June. Nothing too interesting in the script here, it’s mostly just dialogue.

There is a cut line after dinner when Nick and Rose are leaving, and she says to him, “Well I wouldn’t say that’s the most relaxing dinner party I’ve ever been to.” (He responds “Yeah. No.”) Then he spots Mark all alone. Script says Rose understands what he’s about to do. “Nick squeezes her hand, then heads over to Mark.”

The script emphasizes here that Nick is unsure talking to Mark is a good idea, but he really wants to be the one to tell June about Rose before Serena does.

Mackenzie scares the shit out of him in this scene, and the “fuck” Nick mutters at the end was originally not spoken out loud (”OFF NICK, fuck.”) but I’m so glad it was.

Alright, phone call scene. One of our few big Osblaine moments!

NICK: June. Hi.

June suddenly feels like everything is going to be okay.

This scene is mostly dialogue. The final product is all the acting that goes into it. It does say Nick is stressed to relay upsetting information about Hannah and Rose. When June hears about Rose, she knew this was coming eventually, but it’s still a blow. It also describes how painful and hard this is for both of them. But at the end of the call, right after June tells Nick to be happy, is my favorite line in the whole script:

It’s an impossible ask, maybe, for these two to be truly happy without each other.

After the phone call, there is a cut scene between Nick and Rose where they simply look at each other.

Rose knows exactly who he was on the phone with, and what he said to her.

She looks worried for him, knowing it wasn’t easy.

He nods to her -- it’s done.

5x06 - Together

According to the script, Lawrence only invited Warren Putnam over to his house to get Nick on board with killing him. Warren repulses Nick so he’s down.

The next scene they’re in is when they execute Warren. (Such a good scene.) After Nick shoots him in the head, the script describes the camera hanging onto Nick and “his soldier’s stoicism.”

Then it cuts straight to Rose in the Blaine home. “She’s disappointed in him and he knows it.”

Now this scene threw me off. It’s written much differently than how Max acted it. Nick is actually a lot more warm toward Rose in the script, much like how all their previous scenes were. Several lines of Nick’s dialogue were changed (”Can I help?” became “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” onscreen) and his body language comes across way more cold and defensive than what’s described on paper.

As for Rose, she isn’t soothed by Nick’s assurances here. And that’s it for this episode.

5x08 - Motherland

New Bethlehem opens with another cut private moment between Lawrence and Nick.

Nick is brooding by the water, “still grappling with the moral and emotional consequences of shooting Warren in the head.” Lawrence finds him and tries to prod, but Nick gives him nothing.

LAWRENCE: You look a little more moody and broody than usual. Really, you sleeping okay?  

NICK: I’m fine.

Lawrence moves on because they have work to do. He reminds Nick he’s counting on him.

Lawrence gives his New Bethlehem speech to the other Commanders. When one of them pushes back, “that’s the cue for Nick, the muscle. Enough carrots, time for sticks.”

After Nick bullies the Commanders and Lawrence consolidates his power, the script describes these two as a “dynamic duo” lol

Okay, brace yourselves, there’s a cut Osblaine scene up next. I had no idea this existed, I don’t think there are any shots of it in the trailer.

It takes place after June visits Serena in the detention center and realizes she can’t help Hannah unless she’s there. If you watch that part you will see her pull out Lawrence’s burner phone as she leaves. But instead of going to Lawrence’s office like she does in the filmed version, in the script she calls Lawrence and just says, “I want to talk to Nick.”

It cuts to the next night at the border wall between Gilead and Canada. June is waiting on the Canada side as flying drone searchlights swoop across the electrified fence. (All described in dramatic detail.) She sees Nick appear on the other side. They look at each other, waiting, and once the searchlights clear they move to meet each other at the fence.

JUNE: I need to know if this is for real. I need to know that Hannah and my family will be safe.

NICK: I know. You will be. I promise.

JUNE: How can you promise that?

NICK: Things are changing, people are scared of Lawrence. I’m in a position now where i can make sure you’ll be safe.

JUNE: I want to believe you.

NICK: June. You can finally be with Hannah, watch over her. Isn’t that what you always wanted?

She nods.

NICK (CONT’D): Then please. Come back.

“To me,” he means. June’s heart is torn.

At this point the searchlights return and they have to separate. This scene is written like a soap opera. “They can’t help but reach out to each other, almost brushing fingertips before they move apart and run back, escaping the lights.”

Photo of this scene from Max’s IG:

Later in the episode, Lawrence is back in New Bethlehem with Nick. Nick asks which way June is leaning and Lawrence says it’s toward yes. The script says here that Nick understands that Lawrence is trying to manipulate him, but he can’t help but be cautiously optimistic at the idea of having June and Nichole in New Bethlehem with him.

By the end of the conversation, Nick is “considering.”

5x09 - Allegiance

We’ll skip to 27 minutes into the episode, when June sits with Mark after the failed mission. Mark catches June off guard by bringing up Nick. She’s taken aback by the revelation that he turned down Mark’s offer, but Mark says she can still persuade him. The script says “June imagines the prospect of Nick in Toronto” which I think you can see pretty clearly on Lizzie’s face lol.

Then we cut to the big Osblaine reunion.

Lots of dramatic buildup in the script leading up to their conversation. I don’t know how to describe it other than to show you:

She looks toward the courtyard. And there he is --

NICK

Waiting for her. Strained.

JUNE

Takes a beat to soak him in. She gets out.

OUTSIDE

June approaches Nick, their eyes locked.

Like, damn. They love building tension with these two.

Anyway, dialogue proceeds as it does in the show. Nick tells June that his wife’s pregnant and June has the wind knocked out of her. She’s described as “appalled by Nick’s commitment to Gilead, but understanding of his loyalty to Rose and their future child.”

And then--

JUNE: I want what’s best for both our families.

They look at each other.

A giant chasm between them now. But they’ve shared so much. So much trauma. So much love. A daughter.

JUNE (CONT’D): Well. This is a fine mess, isn’t it?

This scene is once again described as painful for both of them. “She tries to keep it together. How can they part? How can they say goodbye?”

Before Nick says “I love you” he was supposed to wrap his arms around her, but in the final cut they keep their distance.

5x10 - Safe

Just wanna note that when Nick shows up on the bridge to meet Mark, it was originally written so American soldiers yank Nick out of his car, handcuff him, and drag him across the bridge to Mark. We were deprived.

Also the first thing out of Nick’s mouth here was supposed to be, “How is she?”

In the hospital, Mark is telling Nick what’s going on but, “Nick can’t even speak. Looking at June, with her black and blue eyes.”

Mark gets the hint and leaves Nick alone. An interesting thing to note is that the line “it’s probably better if she doesn’t know I was here” is NOT in the script. At all.

The rest of the scene is sweet and simple.

Nick crosses, sits beside June.

A beat. Nick takes her hand.

Says nothing as he watches her sleep.

And that’s it.

Mark and Nick’s second scene on the bridge is just as short and to the point. In fact it’s almost entirely dialogue, so the emotions you see onscreen came from acting and directing. The only notable difference here is when Mark tells Nick he could’ve run away with June, he was scripted to give actual examples of where. “Maybe not to Canada, but there are -- places you could’ve gone. Idaho, the Westward Territories.” (Hopefully foreshadowing lol.)

At the party, it is scripted that Rose tries to greet Nick when he arrives and he doesn’t even acknowledge her. Like she doesn’t even exist.

There isn’t much description to accompany the punch. There is a line that says if Nick wasn’t pulled off of Lawrence than he’d be happy to keep on whaling on him. It also describes Lawrence as “rattled” and Rose as “humiliated.”

At the train station, during June’s goodbye to Mark, she asks him to tell Nick that she and Nichole are safe as a nod to their phone call in episode 3. The only descriptive line here is, “A beat, as Mark clocks the deep and selfless connection between Nick and June.”

The final scene I have notes for is Nick and Rose’s breakup in jail.

There are a couple parts of their scripted conversation that didn’t make it onscreen. Starting with right after Rose tells him a good man wouldn’t leave his wife every time his girlfriend calls, Nick’s response was supposed to be, “she was almost killed.” Then Rose laments that she thought she was lucky that someone like [Nick] would deign to be with someone like [her.] Nick says, “I was the lucky one” and she tells him to shut up.

Then there’s the “You will never let go of her, will you?” line from the show. Nick explains that he tried, but Rose retorts with, “Who knows what that woman will bring to our door. I have to protect our son.” Nick is described as scared now, and pleads with her not to leave.

Now I have no idea if that “our son” drop was supposed to be a legitimate reveal or just hopeful Gilead thinking. The script says nothing else about it and it was cut from the show. But it will be fun to speculate as we wait for the final season.

[shemarmooresfedora]

Sugary Sweet Apologies

Summary: You and Reid never really got along but when he saves your life, you decide to be the bigger person and thank him and hopefully start over. Unfortunately, it isn’t that easy.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Content/Warnings: light to mild angst with fluffy ending, swearing, spencer reid being an annoying bitch, brief mentions of case stuff (if you watch cm, you should be fine)

A/N: this is for @willowrose99 ‘s 1 year anniversary on tumblr writing challenge!! congrats! i literally wrote and edited this whole thing in less than one day because i got so excited, anyways i hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 1.8k

“Reid and Y/L/N, go to David Whitney’s house. He was the therapist of two of the three victims. He could have some insight into the victimology and know of any overlap between them. He has no criminal record of past aggressive behavior but we can’t rule him out as a suspect entirely,” Hotch stated.

“Hotch, you stuck me with her yesterday for the geographical profiling. Send Prentiss with her instead,” Spencer whined.

“I don’t mind going with Y/L/N. She is a great partner in the field,” Emily glared at Spencer.

“No. Reid, go with Y/L/N or be taken off this case. I’m a unit chief, not an elementary school teacher. I don’t have time for temper tantrums,” Hotch chided.

“Fine,” Spencer grumbled as you grabbed the keys to an SUV.

You don’t know what it was but ever since you started at the BAU four months ago, Spencer had never liked you which resulted in you disliking him as well. Everyone else on the team was super friendly and welcoming but Reid always was jabbing snarky remarks your way like “I don’t have time to explain it to you” or “This was in the FBI handbook. God, you need more training.”

Luckily, the others were quick to defend you. Once Garcia even heard him snip at you over the phone and as soon as you all got off the elevator after the case, Reid was being dragged by his ear into Garcia’s lair with him going “ow ow ow” behind her. So, you didn’t really pay much mind to him because you could deal with one annoying know-it-all to have such an amazing job with great coworkers minus the one.

“Look, I’m not happy about this either,” you said as you climbed into the driver’s side of the SUV, “But at least I’m not being a whiny bitch about it and being rude to the other person’s face.”

“Oh wow, I’m so sorry that I hurt your feelings,” Spencer mocked.

“Fuck you, Reid,” you shook your head.

-

David Whitney was on edge the second you arrived and showed him your badges. He was bouncing his leg up and down, he couldn’t sit still, and he kept avoiding eye contact.

He knew way too much about the other victim that wasn’t even one of his clients but you didn’t have anything solid on him. His house seemed very neat so you doubted he kept anything incriminating here. Organized offenders usually have a secondary location. So, you decided to push his buttons a little.

“I mean blitz attacks, leaving the bodies on the side of dirt roads,” you combed through the crime scene photos, “This guy was a real coward.”

Spencer picked up on what you were trying to do and his eyes widened, he was subtly shaking his head and mouthing “no”.

“Excuse me?” David asked.

“Well, I’m just saying a real man wouldn’t cower in the bushes and blindside a woman. He must not be very strong,” you stated, “He probably can’t even get it up.”

Before you even had time to react, David pulled out a switchblade knife from inside the couch cushions and put you in a chokehold, pressing the cool metal up to your throat. You closed your eyes tightly.

“David, you don’t have to do this,” Spencer stood with his gun pointed at you both.

“This bitch insulted me,” he snarled.

“She insults me too. That doesn’t make you any less of a man,” Spencer spoke carefully, “Just put the knife down and I’ll escort you out.”

David sighed, dropping the knife to the floor and releasing you.

Spencer put David in handcuffs and walked him outside as reinforcements came running in.

“Are you okay, Y/L/N?” Hotch asked.

“Yep, a little shaken up but fine. Thank you,” you stood.

“Let’s get you to the medics,” Morgan grabbed your arm to support you as you walked over to the ambulance.

Spencer never checked on you.

-

You knew your decision in the field was a little rash and you wanted to thank Spencer for essentially saving your life.

However, there was no way in hell you could verbally get out an apology while staring at his smug face, but you could bake. You settled on a note tucked inside a tupperware container of your Grandma’s special recipe of chocolate chip cookies. It was a good peace offering, maybe even a chance to start fresh.

During your lunch break, you took the tupperware from your desk drawer and approached the break room where Reid had entered about 5 minutes ago.

“I’m just saying I could not have been more clear in my message to her that it was too dangerous but of course, Y/L/N didn’t listen cause Y/L/N is going to do whatever she feels like,” Spencer stirred his coffee.

No one had noticed you standing in the doorway yet.

“Reid, you’ve got to be nicer to her. She earned her spot here just like the rest of us,” Emily defended you.

“Did she though? How much do we really know about her? She couldn’t even tell me how many pages the FBI protocol manual was,” Spencer said.

“That’s not a normal thing people know,” Morgan retorted.

“Well, I’m just saying the team was perfectly fine before her and it would probably be better off if she left,” Reid finished.

Garcia looked up from her yogurt to see you standing there, “Oh, Y/N”.

Spencer turned around in his chair as you angrily stormed up to him.

“Here’s your cookies, asshole,” you seethed, grabbing the note from inside and crumpling it up into a little ball and tossing it into the trash.

“Y/N!” Emily called after you but you were already gone.

The whole team glared at Spencer and picked up their lunches, leaving him alone at the table.

Spencer retrieved the balled up paper from the trash, having to fish through Rossi’s week old pasta and Anderson’s half eaten tuna fish sandwich.

Dear Reid,

Thank you for saving my life, I guess. These are my Grandma’s secret recipe for chocolate chip cookies so I hope you enjoy. I think we got off on the wrong foot and I would like to start over. I think cases would be a lot less miserable for everyone if we got along.

Thanks again,

Y/L/N

Spencer, you’re such an idiot, he thought to himself.

You never came back after your lunch break ended and Derek made Spencer go tell Hotch why it’s his fault you were missing the rest of the day.

He tried to call you multiple times but they always rang out before going to voicemail.

Spencer hesitantly knocked on Penelope’s door at the end of the day.

“Is she okay?” he asked softly.

“You don’t get to ask that as the person who hurt her in the first place. Also, she told me to tell you that don’t you dare go to her apartment to ‘check on her’. I’m headed over there myself actually,” Penelope collected her things and shut off her monitors.

“Will you at least tell her I’m really sorry?” Spencer followed her to the elevator.

“Absolutely not. I’m not doing any apologizing on your behalf,” Penelope huffed as the elevators shut.

-

You came in the next morning, keeping your head down. You grabbed a pen from your cup holder and the first folder on your stack before getting to work.

You were on the second page of the file when your clean, empty tupperware was placed in front of you plus another baking dish with aluminum foil over the top.

You glanced up to see Spencer guiltily looking down at you and you returned your eyes back to the file.

“I-I made you cinnamon rolls,” Spencer broke the silence.

“Are they poisoned?” you asked, not sparing him another glance.

“No, they’re not poisoned,” he assured you.

“I’m just saying how can I trust you as you have made it very apparent you would like me off this team.”

“I didn’t mean that,” Spencer was quick to reply.

“Then why the hell did you say it, Reid?” you slammed your pen down.

You grabbed your empty coffee mug and briskly walked to the break room but unfortunately, Spencer was right behind you.

“I didn’t eat any of your cookies by the way. Not that I didn’t want to but I felt like I didn’t deserve them so I handed them out to everyone else.”

“Oh how kind, taking credit for my work,” you tried to close the door in his face.

“I told them that they were from you,” Spencer insisted.

You rolled your eyes as Spencer grabbed the coffee pot before you could get to it, pouring your mug of coffee for you.

“What do you want from me, Reid?” you asked defeatedly.

“I want you to try a cinnamon roll and let me explain.”

“Fine but only because I didn’t have breakfast yet and I want to critique your baking skills,” you huffed, walking back to your desk.

Spencer gingerly placed one of the sticky frosting-coated rolls on a napkin and pushed it towards you. You tentatively bit into it. Damn it, it was actually delicious.

“It’s okay,” you understated.

You knew Spencer hardly ever used his kitchen let alone be up baking all night. He even chose a recipe that required more time and effort because the yeast dough would have to rise for a few hours.

“That’s good. The first batch didn’t come out as great...or the second,” he smiled softly.

“Well, the floor is all yours, Reid. Please explain to me why you talk shit about me to my co-workers when I’m in the other room,” you leaned back in your chair and crossed your arms.

Spencer muttered something incoherent.

“I have to hear the apology, you know,” you said, enjoying watching him uncomfortable.

“You’re intimidating to me because you’re intelligent, beautiful, and courageous. I think I was a little jealous that my spotlight as the ‘kid’ of the BAU was coming to an end so I said some harsh, completely untrue things and I’m sincerely sorry.”

“Oh my god,” you smirked, “Hotch was right, you are an elementary school kid.”

“In what way?” he curiously asked.

“You like me like like like me. You don’t know how to talk to the girl so you pull her pigtails on the playground,” you giggled.

“I take it back. You’re a horrible profiler,” Spencer was getting up from his seat, completely flustered.

“Awww,” you were laughing at Spencer’s bright red face as he went to go to the break room to fill his coffee mug.

When he got back to his desk, a sticky note was placed front and center.

In typical elementary school fashion…

Will you go get coffee with me?

Check:

Yes

or

No

Spencer smiled before picking up his pen and checking one of the boxes, crumpling the sticky note up into a ball and throwing it over to your desk.

“Good choice. See you Saturday at 9 at the cafe down the street,” you grinned.

“It’s a date,” he smiled.

[skyeet-the-writer]

okay i’m not sure if you are taking like open requests but corpse and reader are dating and nobody really knows but like the fans ship it and stuff, and they are playing among us with jack, felix, rae ect,, and someone invites somebody and it’s reader ex boyfriend and corpse notices that she’s acting really quiet and he texts her like “baby are you okay??” and she tells him that’s her toxic ex and during an emergency meeting, her ex suspects her and when she defends herself he says something along the lines of “don’t believe her she’s a fucking liar, she’s been one since the day i first met her” and everyone is like ??? but corpse flips out on him and just snaps telling him to leave his girlfriend alone which breaks his cover so everyone knows about you guys and just like really mad corpse and having to help him calm down and you get up from your seat to see him in his streaming room and just sit on his lap and he’s like “fuck that guy it’s okay baby we can just play minecraft or something” lmaooo 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i know that was so specific but the thought makes me so soft i would actually cry if you wrote this

This Is A Shout Out To My Ex

here’s my first request guys! so sorry they’re taking so long. i’m trying to get these done before i do anything else. hope you guys enjoy! x,

corpse x female!reader

summary: while paying a game with her friends, y/n’s toxic ex joins the game. when he calls her a liar, corpse snaps and defends his girlfriend

word count: ~4.4k

warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, gaslighting, near-death experiences, swearing, some angst but it has a super fluffy end!

Living with your boyfriend is, obviously, amazing in every way. You see each other all the time, you get to cuddle almost all the time, and you get to see his handsome face every morning.

Probably, the only downside is the fact that living together makes it nearly impossible to hide the fact that you’re dating.

But, somehow, you’ve managed to keep it a secret from you rabid fans for the past four months. You literally have no idea how because you’re pretty sure you accidentally got a glimpse of Corpse walking by while you were doing a vlog.

Miraculously, no one noticed it. Then again, none of your fans knew what he looked like, so there’s a plus. There were one or two comments asking who the person in the back was, but you lied and said it was a friend. Technically, you weren’t wrong.

And so you’ve been trying to keep your relationship with Corpse on the DL to avoid any stress or anxiety his way. You could deal with it, you’ve been doing Youtube for years and could handle almost anything. Corpse, bless his heart, might not be able to.

One morning, you’re awoken by some slight tugging on your hair. You crack your eyes open but the bright light makes you whine and close them again. There’s a soft laugh behind you and you roll over onto your back, scooting over closer to him. You stretch your legs and grin, still keeping your eyes closed. 

“Did you sleep at all?” you ask in a quiet voice, your head resting on your lover’s chest.

“No,” he answers in his deep voice and you feel him play with your hair. “Anxiety, insomnia, the usual shit.”

You hum and open your eyes slowly, deciding to brave the light. You blink up at Corpse who is staring at the ceiling. “What were you thinking about?” Your own voice is a bit scratchy and rough. 

He looks down at you and you take notice of how bloodshot his eyes are and the bags under his eyes. “How pretty you are when you sleep.” He grins.

“You watched me when I slept?” you ask and playfully narrow your eyes at him. “You creep.”

He laughs and you turn around onto your side, your back facing him. “Baby, no, I didn’t mean it that way.”

You smile. “You’re so creepy, Corpse.”

He doesn’t say anything but you hear him sit up in bed. You begin to ask what he’s doing but then he lifts up the back of your shirt to press a few kisses to your back. “You’re still here, though. With me.”

“Hm. Yeah.” You turn around and he gazes at you. “Because I love you.”

His eyes light up in the way that they always do when you tell him those three, simple words. You love seeing them light up that way and you grin. “I love you, too.” He leans in for a quick kiss.

“What time is it?” you ask when you pull away.

Corpse reaches over to his side of the bed and turns his phone on. “Noon.”

“Noon?” you shout and sit up so quickly you get a head rush. “We were supposed to be playing Among Us with Sean, Pewds, Toast, Rae, and them.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You turn and see him with his hands covering his face.

You walk over to him and kneel next to him. “Babe? What’s up?”

He just groans and you frown. He doesn’t feel good. 

You push his hair from his forehead. “I can tell them that you’re not feeling up for it. They all know you, they’d understand.”

He shakes his head and runs his hands down his face before they rest on his chest. “No. No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a smile.

You kiss his cheek. “Okay, then, babe. C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” You grab his hands and tug him up until he’s in a sitting position. He pulls you in for another kiss but you lean away.

“You have morning breath,” you tell him when he gives you his sad eyes. “Brush your teeth and then I’ll kiss you.”

That seems to get him out of bed and into the bathroom while you change clothes. You change out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into jeans and a shirt. He walks out of the bathroom yawning and you walk past him to go to the bathroom.

I wish he’d sleep, you think to yourself while brushing your teeth. After brushing your teeth, you wash your face and do a little bit of makeup so you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed even though you did.

Corpse walks into the bathroom as you’re finishing your makeup and has a mug of coffee for you. You’re the only one in the house who drinks coffee since he can’t, so you always find it so sweet that he makes it for you.

“You made me coffee?” you ask and he nods. You take it from him and give him a peck. “Thank you, love.” 

You take a sip and grab your phone from your nightstand and shove it into your pocket. You walk out of the bedroom the two of you share and into the kitchen to check on your cat. 

Before you met him, Corpse had never really wanted a pet. He said that they die and he doesn’t want to deal with that, which you understand. But after the two of you had been dating for three months and you had been living with him for a month and a half, you begged him to let you get a cat. You knew he couldn’t say no to you. 

“Where’s Inky?” you call out to your boyfriend after not finding your cat in the living room or the kitchen. 

“In here,” he calls back and you follow his voice. Corpse is sitting in his chair getting ready to stream. You spot a black cat sitting on his table, licking at his hand. Corpse laughs and pets the animal on the head. “Stop licking me, girl. Your tongue feels weird.”

You smile and walk over to him, picking the cat up. “Come on, Inky, let’s leave dad to do his job, yeah?”

The young cat meows up at you and stares into your soul with her green eyes. You lock her gaze and have a staring contest. You lose, however, and blink away. 

“Why is your cat so weird?” you ask, placing the cat back down and watch her run away. 

“Probably gets it from her mom,” Corpse mumbles and you hear a smile. 

You scoff and smack his hand away gently when he reaches out to you. “Fine, you don’t get a kiss before the stream.”

“No, wait!” he shouts and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. “I was kidding, baby.”

You smile at him and cup his cheek. “I know.” You lean down and give him a long, deep kiss. You feel him smile against your lips and you pull away. He gives you a smile.

“I love you,” he mutters, brushing some hair away from your face. 

“I love you more.” You grab his hand and press a kiss against his knuckles. You take a step back. “I’ll see you in the Discord chat, babe.”

“Okay. Also, don’t close the door all the way!” he calls to you and you look back at him, your hand on the doorknob. 

“Why?” you ask, leaning on the doorframe. 

He takes a second to respond. “Because I want Inky to come in here later.”

You laugh but smile. “Okay, fine.” You walk away from the door and across the hall into your own recording room. 

Your room is a lot different than your boyfriend’s. His room is dark and doesn’t have a lot in it. Yours, on the other hand, probably has too much stuff. Most of it is gifts from fans like stuffed animals and other knickknacks. Your desk, monitors, and lights take up a lot of the already limited space. You turn both your ring lights on after closing the door and turn on the LED lights you have attached to the ceiling. You switch them to the f/c setting and put the remote next to your coffee mug. You sit down in your black and white gaming chair and set everything up after putting on your headset. 

You join the Among Us game after beginning your stream and then the Discord call. You seem to join before Corpse because you can’t see him in the call. 

“You’ve finally decided to join us, y/n!” Felix exclaims and you smile. 

“Am I late?” you ask, taking another drink of your coffee. 

“No,” Sean replies. “I mean, we played a couple of rounds to pass the time, but nothing interesting happened.”

You nod and glance at who all is in the chat. It seems to be you, Felix, Toast, Charlie, Rae, Sean, later Corpse, and someone else who’s tag sounds familiar. 

“Oh! I invited someone new!” says Rae. “He’s a friend from college. y/n, this is Dallas.”

“Hey, y/n.”

Your eyes widen and your blood goes cold at the sound of his voice. You know him. You used to date him. In highschool before you moved away. You remember how toxic he was. He would always blow you off when you wanted to hang out and when you did hang out, he always played video games and never talked to you. 

“Hi, Dallas,” you stutter out. “Uh, hey, didn’t you and I go to highschool together?”

You can practically hear his smirk. “Yeah. We did.”

“I didn’t know you two went to school together,” Rae says happily. 

“Yep,” Dallas says. “We were friends, too.”

You want to throw up.

Suddenly, your loving and not toxic boyfriend joins the call and your spirits lift. 

“Corpse!” you exclaim, almost letting another word slip out. 

“You’re here,” says Rae. “Good noon!”

“Yeah, I’m not a morning person,” he says and you just now notice how deep his voice is. “I just woke up.”

“Oh my god,” Felix says. 

“Jesus,” says Charlie, dragging out the ‘u’.

“You just woke up?” asks Toast. 

He’s a liar, he didn’t sleep at all, you think but keep your mouth shut and laugh. 

“It’s like a forty-hertz voice,” Sean says. 

“It sounds like short wave radio,” Charlie adds. 

You laugh. “You sound like spoken brown note.”

Corpse laughs. “This is me when I wake up, that’s what...” He cuts himself off and laughs again.

“I’m scared,” says Dallas. 

“I didn’t know it could get any lower!” exclaims Sean. 

“I didn’t know you could hit puberty twice.” Felix laughs. 

After some more laughter, Corpse is introduced to Dallas. 

“Hey, man,” Corpse says. “Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” Dallas replies. 

“Can we start the game now?” Sean asks when everyone is in the waiting room. You take a sip of your coffee while Rae starts the game. 

You mute yourself as your role is revealed and let out a sigh of relief. “Crewmate. Good, this makes this less stressful.” You go into the hallway, following Felix and Sean to go do wires. You clear the two of them and you three go up to admin. “Okay, so for those of you wondering about my reaction to Dallas joining the stream is that he’s my ex. Uh, we dating in highschool and broke up around the end of senior year. So this is pretty awkward for me.” You break away from Sean and Felix to go do a task in the greenhouse. 

You leave out the part about Dallas where he was borderline abusive. You remember him shouting at you for asking for the littlest of things to him gaslighting you and guilt-tripping you into going skinny dipping with him. 

Maybe that’s why you love Corpse so much. He’s the opposite of Dallas. He’s sweet and he’s caring. He’s never once raised his voice at you unless you were beating him in a game. Even then you both knew he wasn’t serious. And he had never once pressured you to do something you didn’t want to do. 

You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone reports Rae’s dead body. You unmute yourself and take another drink of your coffee. 

“I found her in decontamination,” Dallas says. “I opened the door and she was right there.”

“I was down by storage doing wires,” you tell them, putting your mug down. “And I was with Felix and Jack for the beginning and I’m pretty sure they’re cleared. So it has to be either you, Toast, or Corpse. Or Charlie.”

“You almost forgot about me,” he says and you laugh. 

“We never vote on seven, right?” Toast says. 

“Not if no one is sus, no,” Corpse answers. 

“I’m skipping,” says Sean. 

You nod and skip voting. “Same here.”

Everyone skips voting and you continue on. You do the rest of your wiring tasks and go out to the balcony where you notice Corpse standing out there. You smile and walk up to him and make your characters’ “eye” parts touch. “Look, Corpse. We’re touching eyeballs.”

You can just barely make out his laugh from the room across from yours and you grin before doing to do your task. You glance at your chat while you run to the reactor with Corpse. “How have you guys been doing? Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t forget to drink some water and eat something.” You smile at the camera and enter decontamination with Corpse and Toast. 

When you enter reactor, Corpse and Toast each go to do it and you head to the sorting in the lab when suddenly a body is reported. 

You decide to be quiet and drink from your coffee while everyone else discusses what happened. You zone out a little when Dallas talks and your mind flashes back to memories you’ve been trying to forget. 

“Wait, who are we voting?” you ask when you suddenly snap back to reality. 

“Felix,” Sean answers. “He vented right in front of me.”

You nod and vote for Felix and he gets ejected. 

pEWds was ejected 

1 imposter remains

You mute yourself once more and continue to do your tasks and stick with Corpse as much as you can. Your chat notices this and begins to blow up with the ship name they have for the two of you. You laugh at the chat as you scan yourself. “Why are you guys freaking out about Corpse and me? We’re literally just walking.”

Another body is reported and this time it’s Toast’s. You know who the imposter is. You unmute yourself and quickly say, “It’s fucking Dallas, it’s a self-report.”

“What?” Dallas exclaims and you immediately sense the hint of anger in his tone. He used to get so mad during video games and it seems like nothing has changed in the past few years. “How’s it me? It could be Charlie.”

“Charlie is dead, too,” Sean says. 

“Yep. And I know both Corpse and Sean are cleared because I was with Sean for a long time and I just watched Corpse get scanned.”

Dallas scoffs. “Well, shit, you got me there.”

After Dallas is ejected, the crewmates win and you all start another round. You suddenly don’t feel like talking too much anymore and do your stream in mostly silence. Just Dallas being there and in the same call as you is making you anxious and bringing up memories you don’t want to remember. 

Your chat asks you about this and you ignore it as you continue to do your tasks as a crewmate. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, looking at who it is. 

corpse 🖤

are you okay? you’re being really quiet

y/n

yeah, ig. just that dallas is my ex. toxic ex too

corpse 🖤

want me to kill him for you? im imposter

You smile and shake your head. “Oh, Corpse,” you whisper to yourself. 

y/n

no dont kill him lol

You put your phone back down on the table and look back at the game. 

You don’t pay too much attention to the game until the fourth round after you and Rae lost as the imposters. You’re a crewmate once again and you’re peacefully doing your tasks when suddenly something lays on your bare feet. 

“What the?” You look down at your feet and see a little dark fuzzball on your feet. “Inky, get off my feet, baby.” You move your feet and pick her up. You hold her in your arms like a baby the way she likes and rub her belly. “Okay, go see your dad.” Inky jumps out of your arms and you watch her leave your recording room. 

You turn back to your task and continue to do them without any interruptions. You notice, however, that Dallas has been following you for most of the round. You’re starting to get a little nervous and you run into the cafeteria to get away from him when he calls an emergency meeting.

You unmute yourself and Dallas says, “I think it’s y/n. I’m pretty sure she’s faking tasks.”

“Except I’m not,” you tell him. “You’re the one following me around, too, Dallas. What’s up with that, huh?”

“I’ve been following you because you’re acting sus.”

You glare at Dallas’s character on the screen, heat rushing to your face. “I’m literally doing my tasks, I know you saw me do the card swipe--”

“Don’t listen to her,” Dallas says and he sounds far too confident. “She’s a fucking liar. She has been since the first day I met her.”

By now your face is completely red from anger and you gasp. “Excuse me?”

“What are you talking about?” Sean asks. “I’ve known y/n for a long time, she’s never told a lie so long as I’ve known her.”

“That’s because she’s too good at it,” Dallas says in a snarky tone and you’ve never wanted to punch a screen more in your life. “Her and me used to date in highschool but I broke up with her because she lied to me about everything.”

“That’s not fucking true!” you shout and you can hear blood rushing to your ears. “I was the one who broke up with you after you gaslighted me about not hanging out with you enough when in reality you were always hanging out with your stupid football friends!”

“She’s lying--”

“The fuck are you saying about my girl?” Corpse demands. 

The chat goes silent for a moment. Corpse just called you his girl. You look at your live chat and it’s exploding with “i knew it”s and lots of keyboard smashing.

“Your girl?” Dallas asks after a moment.

“Yes. My girl. As in my girlfriend.” He sounds so possessive and it’s kind of hot to you. “Why are you calling her a liar?”

Dallas stumbles on his words. “B--because she is one.”

“Right. And how long have you known her?”

“I knew her in highschool--“

“Nevermind, I literally don’t care,” Corpse interrupts him. “I’ve been living with her for the past five months and she’s never lied to me about anything.”

Dallas is quiet for once. Everyone is. No one is really even breathing but your heartbeat is rattling your brain and blood is rushing through your ears.

“I don’t wanna play anymore,” you whisper. You swallow thickly and glance at your chat. Luckily, they’re all defending you and yelling at Dallas. You turn back to the screen. “Dallas, I’m not the imposter. And stop making stupid ass accusations.”

“I--“

“Kick him,” says Felix and you can tell he sounds mad.

“No wait--“ Dallas begins to say.

“No!” Rae interrupts. “I knew there was something off about you.”

“You don’t get to come in here and talk shit about our friend,” Jack says.

“I was kidding,” Dallas tries to explain.

But then something inside you snaps. You forgot how much you hate Dallas. How he always turned the blame on you when he did something wrong. How you almost lost all of your friends because he convinced them that you were a bad person.

At first, you thought he had changed. You thought that he had actually grown up. Turns out that people don’t change.

“Like you were kidding when you almost got me kicked out of the house because you made me go out with you to go drinking?” you ask. “Or how you played a stupid trick on me when I was driving us to school and I almost fucking crashed the car and nearly killed us?”

“Jesus.” You can hear him roll his eyes. “You’re still on about that? It was April Fool’s, you should have expected it—“

“I shouldn’t have expected shit!” you yell and it comes out raw. The memory flashes in your mind and you cringe. “That wasn’t funny, Dallas! You weren’t funny! I fucking hated my life in high school. I was already stressed out because I thought I wasn’t smart enough and you being my boyfriend and ignoring me and manipulating me didn’t help.

“So fuck you. Fuck you for everything you did to me when we were teenagers. Fuck you for making me think that you changed and were actually nice and then ripping that away from me. But you know what? Thanks. Thanks for being my ex because you made me what I am today and you’re the reason I moved to California and met the love of my life.”

You suck a deep breath in and wipe at the tears that had fallen. You put your hand on your camera. “Speaking of which, I need a hug from him. Bye, guys.”

You stop streaming and disconnect from everything. You turn your computer off, unplug your headset, and turn your lights off. You sit in your chair trying not to cry in the dark.

Corpse, your mind says and you open your eyes. You really want a hug. His hugs are the best. You take your headset off and walk out of your recording room. Before you walk into Corpse’s recording room, you head to the living room and grab a fluffy gray blanket and wrap it around yourself.

You don’t even bother to knock on the door and just walk in. His room is still dark and it appears like he’s angry. You can tell by the way his voice is deeper and how he looks like he’s shaking.

But when you tap on his shoulder, he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Babe.”

You sniffle and he pushes away from his desk. You shake your head and pull his arms up above his head and settle yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of him, and wrap your arms around his neck.

“Baby,” he whispers and you lean your cheek on his shoulder. “Just fuck off, Dallas.”

Your eyes squeeze shut and you shift up a little, pushing your nose into his neck. He smells nice. “Stop talking to them.”

“What?” he looks down at you and asks what you’re doing when you take his headset off. You unplug them, thereby disconnecting him from the stream. “y/n, what are you doing?”

“I want to cuddle with you,” you mutter and bury your face into his neck.

You feel him wrap his arms around your back and he pulls you up, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Okay, baby. We can cuddle.”

The two of you sit like that for what feels like a long time. You hear Corpse’s phone buzz, but the two of you ignore it. He kisses the side of your head and you smile.

You sigh deeply as he tightens his hold against you. “Fuck that guy, baby. It’s okay.” He moves his shoulder and you look up at him. “Wanna go play Minecraft?”

A grin spreads across your face and you nod. Corpse smiles back and picks you up, bridal style, blanket and all. You squeal and laugh as he carries you to the living room. “Put me down, Corpse!”

“Alright.” He drops you into the couch and turns around to turn the Xbox on.

You huff and push your hair out of your face, keeping the blanket wrapped tight around your body. “I didn’t mean literally drop me, dummy.”

He shrugs and sits next to you, handing you a controller. “Should’ve been more specific, baby.”

You scoff but can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. “Jerk.” You put the controller next to you on the couch and move the blanket so it’s over both of your laps and you lean into his side.

After playing Minecraft for the majority of the afternoon and evening, you finally drag Corpse to bed with you after ordering pizza for dinner.

His arms are wrapped tight around your waist as your back is pressed against his chest. Inky hops up onto the bed and nuzzles your hand until you begin to pet her. She lays down on her belly and you gently pat her.

“Am I really the love of your life?” Corpse asks after a long time of sitting in the quiet darkness

You nod against the pillow. “Yeah. You are.”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s smiling when he kisses the back of your neck.

Your phone on your nightstand lights up and you head Corpse’s phone buzz again as well. You think for just a moment about all of the texts, all of the messages, all of the DMs you’re getting about what happened. For a second, you panic. What if people don’t think that you’re worth to be dating Corpse? What if people are calling you a pussy for how you reacted to Dallas? What if everyone hates you?

But those thoughts immediately go away when Corpse mumbles something in that husky voice of his that makes the butterflies in your tummy come back. “You’re the love of my life, too.”

“Yeah?” you hum, your eyes slipping shut.

“Yeah,” he says and you can tell that he’s getting tired as well. “And I’m gonna marry you someday.”

An involuntary smile spreads across your face and your entire body overheats. You bite your lip in the darkness and whisper,

“And I’m gonna say yes.”

But he’s asleep. His breathing has evened out. He shouldn’t have heard you.

You know he heard you somehow, though, because his arms tighten around your waist. You wiggle backward so that you’re flush against his chest and his head drops down onto the top of your head.

You place your hands over his and close your eyes. Finally, he’s sleeping.

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

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[lashton-is-my-drug]

Lashton "Ghost of You" Masterpost

I suspect the song "Ghost of You" (on the album "Youngblood") that Ashton Irwin and Luke Hemmings wrote together, is about them reflecting back on their relationship. It's about them falling in love at such a young age, then growing so close when Luke and Ash lived together during 2017, then when Luke moved out to his own place there was a huge painful void that was felt by no longer living together. Let's take a look at the song lyrics and then what the guys have said and what their interactions around the song have been, in order to see if this might be correct.

Starting with song lyrics analysis of "Ghost of You"....

"Ghost Of You" Lyric Analysis

Song title analysis - A ghost is a presence of someone who is no longer with you, caused by the end of a relationship, the person is no longer near you but once was very close, or a literal passing away. The use of the word ‘you’ means the song is directed towards said person.

Here I am waking up, still can't sleep on your side

There's your coffee cup, the lipstick stain fades with time

If I could dream long enough, you'd tell me I'd be just fine

I'll be just fine

The first verse is this person giving an update on what their life is currently like without their partner (you) around. This person is only able to focus on finite things. There’s a loss felt by their romantic partner no longer being near them. When a couple shares a bed, they each tend to have a side they always sleep on. This person is struggling to cope with their partner not being there. The use of the word “still” means it’s been this way ever since this partner left. Lipstick stain is a more dense heavy duty step up from lipstick. It’s longer lasting. It's so strong that in order to remove a lipstick stain from clothing, you have to use a rubbing alcohol. This person's partner was a big part of their life. Daily routine things (having morning coffee) traces of this person still exist in this person's life. This person is not doing things to move on, the pain is long lasting.

“If I could dream long enough”. When dealing with loss, it can really mess with your quality of sleep. It expresses a yearning for their partner but unable to reach any closure.

This person knows their partner would want to tell this person that they'll get through this.

For the last line of this verse, this person switches to “I’ll be just fine” because they can’t hear it directly from their romantic partner so they try to tell it to themself. It could also be telling their partner that they'll be fine even though the ghost of them can't say it back.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

And I chase it down, with this shot of truth

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

Using “drowning” as in hyperbole. “Drowning” something out, not describing the act of actually drowning. On Luke’s solo album track “Slip Away”, he refers to drowning out the fires. Luke has said that song is about moments of happiness and not feeling like you deserve them. A feeling of unrest. I’m not sure if there’s a correlation or parallel between the two songs but that came to my mind when I was listening to his album. When you ‘drown’ something out, you use other things to cover something up (not deal with) in one's mind with other thoughts or activities. This person is still trying to dance through the loss of their partner. The activity of dancing is filling space in their mind to make the loss feel less strong. The presence of the partner is still felt by this person, though they aren’t there in the same way they once were.

“And I chase it down, with this shot of truth” - That strong feeling that this person misses their partner's presence so much that it’s become a bold truth. This person continues to keep parts of them alive by incorporating them into the things they do every day or the things/reminders of their partner are still in the environment/their psyche. Luke and Ash have each had issues with alcohol. Alcohol can be used as a coping mechanism of avoidance to realities. Repeating the “Dancing through our house…” line is acting as a way to focus on what’s helping this person to live their life, drowning it out by doing something that helps keep a sense of connection as comfort with their partner. Musically, this song keeps a very even 1-2-3 beat which can easily be slow danced to with a partner.

Cleaning up today, found that old Zeppelin shirt

You wore when you ran away, and no one could feel your hurt

We're too young, too dumb, to know things like love

But I know better now, better now

“Cleaning up today”. Goes back to talking about daily mundane things. This style makes this song sound like a letter to their partner. “Cleaning up” can be a reference to tidying up to restore order, but it could also be a broader meaning of getting one's life back to a healthy place. During 2017, Luke moved in with Ash when Luke was going through a chaotic broken time in his life. This is also the year this song was written. Luke and Ash both used this time to heal from hurts and to work on finding themselves into a better happier headspace. A reference to a Led Zeppelin band t-shirt stands out to me because Ashton has worn at least 3 different Zeppelin shirts and has mentioned his love for the band. The style of music he enjoys are rock bands of the past. He posts many Instagram stories of his currently listening to songs/albums and of vinyl records he collects. The songs and bands line up with this as his legitimate music preferences.

“You wore when you ran away, no one could feel your hurt” - Ash has spoken in interviews about how when the guys left Australia to come to the US to pursue their dreams with the band, one of the motivators for leaving Aus was to “escape” and “didn’t want to be where [we] were”. Feb 2018 Zach Sang interview

This line could also mean, running away from love. Feeling scared, lonely, and not believing in love because of what’s hurt you in your past.

“Too young, too dumb to know things like love” - Sounds like what people say when your young age doesn’t fit with how strongly you find yourself loving someone. Luke was about age 14/15 and Ashton was about age 15/16 when they met each other. It's really worth it to look into how Luke and Ash were towards each other from so very early on. Heck, the way they met was Ash defending Luke against some bullies. If that's not the type of meet cutes out of the movies, I don't know what is! The early YouTube videos show how much young love fonding google-y eyes they were doing towards each other. One of the very first examples, when Luke, Calum, and Ash did a cover of Chris Brown's song "Forever". Compilation video of a lot of couple-y type things they have done Part 1 Part 2 When love is happening to you, sometimes you don’t know how to appreciate it to the level it deserves, simply because perhaps you don't even realize that it is love that you are experiencing. Finding true love is so super special, if you can find it. This song is celebrating a true love this person has found.

“But I know better now, better now” - This person is reflecting back on falling in love and realizing that what you were experiencing was actually love and your life was/is better because of finding and experiencing it. This person is more capable now of knowing when love is happening and more capable of how to nurture it. This shows personal growth and maturity as one gets older to realize this.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

And I chase it down, with this shot of truth

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

Chorus repeats.

(Fine)

Too young, too dumb

(Fine)

To know things like love

(Fine)

Too young, too dumb

(Fine)

This section is a beautiful ‘call and response’ between this person and their ‘ghost’ romantic partner. The ghost/partner is repeating a chant of “fine” to try to comfort this person that they’ll get through this loss. This person is singing the lines about their love they experienced.

So I drown it out like I always do

Dancing through our house with the ghost of you

And I chase it down, with this shot of truth

That my feet don't dance like they did with you

The chorus starts to repeat but then does a switch for the last line. “My feet don’t dance like they did with you”. The love this person experienced with their partner was/is one of a kind and when you ‘dance’ with someone you are in sync. Knowing love makes you feel so alive and you both know each other so intimately that you both just get everything about each other. This romantic partner was/is someone who truly was/is ‘your person’. Feet not dancing like they did with this person could also be referring to queer love. A different kind of love than of the straight kind.

Dancing is an actual activity that the 5SOS guys all enjoy, but in particular that Luke and Ashton enjoy together. On a keek, Ashton was trying to get people around him to dance and then Luke is near him who dances, Ash then says while smiling and sweetly soft, "Luke will always dance with me".

When they lived together, they posted videos of them having fun dancing, just the two of them.

New Year's Eve they posted a dancing video, again while they were living together. During this one, Luke calls Ash "baby".

"Ghost of You" section of Cocktail Chats

Here's what happened and how the guys talk about the song "Ghost of You" during the “Youngblood” album Cocktail Chats.

There's so much Luke and Ash!!

The way Mikey talks about the song being his favorite since its so emotional, leads me to believe its a bit deeper than the "This Is Us" tv show inspiration story Luke gave.

Another hint that it has a different meaning to the song is because Ash asks him if he's talking about "The Office", not "This Is Us", so did Ash even know about that as one inspiration when they were writing it?

There's more to this song than Luke's first inspiration, something deeper about Love. Something that was even more inspirational, way more.

I'm including the video with my edited comments into the video to help show what stands out to me. Yes, the guys were drunk during this but they were still themselves. Sometimes our drunk selves reveal things that we wouldn't be comfortable sharing on a typical day, too.

Ash has tweeted about GoY a few times. One of them, he gets very sentimental about how this song reminds him about "not taking love for granted again". It's quite a meaningful song to him, I'd say.

Yes, Ash, we are listening. You deserve to be heard.

September 25, 2021 broadcast of Global Citizen Live event - 5SOS's first live performance back, their setlist was "She Looks So Perfect" (5SOS's first big hit single), three tracks from the Youngblood (2018) album. They played “Teeth”, “Ghost of You”, and “Youngblood”. Luke and Ash wrote most of the YB album. (No songs from the more recent album CALM (2020)?? but you go to the first album of the 5SOS discography that Lashton mostly wrote?? Inch resting...)

After the show, the band tweeted out a few pictures. Ashton tweeted a sweet selfie of him and Luke with bringing up "Ghost of You", specifically. Something I also noticed was that Ash necklace and Luke's suit coordinated as shades of blue. Also, Luke has blue eyes so Ash’s necklace also matches those too. If not intentional, it’s a very sweet coincidence. 😊

In conclusion.... Luke and Ash are so romantic about love and "Ghost of You" is LASHTON AF. The "ghost" is the absence they felt of no longer living together. They each missed each other, their 'person'. Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

[babymetaldoll]

The BAU First online Secret Santa (aka: Rossi vs Zoom)  (Spencer Reid/ Reader)

Summary: Rossi might have said too much when he wasn't muted in the BAU online Secret Santa Celebration. And Reid is too embarrassed to face (Y/N) afterward.

Requested: Yes. My boyfriend asked me to write this, and asked for some specific gifts for some team members. (Based on season 7 of Criminal Minds in COVID quarantine).

Pairing: Spencer Reid/ Reader- feat the whole team 

Warnings: None

Word count: 3K

Masterlist 

.

- “Hello?”- Penelope waved at Rossi, but he didn’t reply. She sighed and stared at the camera on her computer, and nearly started jumping and waving. 

- “Rossi!! Hey!”

- “Penelope??”- Rossi screamed, looking at the screen, unable to find the tab with the Zoom video conference on his navigator. He could hear her but couldn’t see her. 

- “Where are you??”

- “Rossi!! I can’t hear you! you are muted!”- Penelope was already frustrated, and it had been only two minutes. 

Rossi had been struggling using Zoom the whole quarantine. Every online meeting for the last couple of months had been filled with “Rossi, you are muted,” “Rossi, we can see you picking your nose,” “Rossi, you aren’t mute, we can hear you fart.” It had been as frustrating as funny for the team. 

- “Hey!”- Prentiss waved at the camera- “Where’s everybody?”

- “We’ve got Rossi trying to find us and unmute his mic”- Emily chuckled and nodded- “And Hotch just logged in… hey!”

- “Hello everybody”- Aaron Hotchner waved, and his son Jack appeared in the back of the room, waving too. 

- “Did you clean your room?”- he asked his son

- “Yes…”- it was clear Jack was lying

- “So if I go upstairs right now, your room is going to be clean, your bed made, and your toys in their place?- Jack stayed still and just smiled. Slowly, he turned around and ran back to his room. 

- “Hey, how did you change your background?”- Emily asked Garcia, who started explaining how to do it. 

- “Henry! what is it?”- JJ logged into the conversation, but her attention was really on her son, who kept crying somewhere near her. 

- “Hello? Hey? can you hear me?”

- “Hey Spence!!”- Prentiss and Garcia said at the same time and chuckled. 

- “Hello! How’s everybody!”- he smiled and stared at his screen. 

For someone who hated technology, he was pretty comfortable meeting the team online. Maybe because his germaphobic self was glad they didn’t have to go to the BAU if there was a pandemic going on.   

Germs were worse than technology, which was good to know when it came to his phobias. 

- “Baby girl, what are you doing?”- Derek’s voice interrupted Garcia’s class of “How to change backgrounds one on one.” Emily enjoyed her time switching pictures on his background, laughing, while JJ tried to convince Henry to eat his banana. Hotch was reading a case file, not paying attention to anything going on around him. Rossi was lost and muted still, trying to find the right tab in his browser, and Spencer was reading a book, sipping a cup of coffee.  

- “Hey!!”- (Y/N) waved at the screen and stared at the scene. Everyone in the BAU was on their little bubble.  

- “Hello, hey! How are you?”- Spencer closed the book and waved. (Y/N) blushed and waved back. She just stared at him, and all the memories of their last video call came to mind. 

They had literally spent the night together. They started a video call around seven, then cooked dinner. Spencer actually cooked ‘cos (Y/N) gave him an easy cooking lesson online. Both of them ate spaghetti with homemade bolognese sauce. 

They started talking and talking, drinking tea, and coffee, and cocoa, and more tea. They snuggled on their couches and kept on talking, laughing. Somehow they started reading each other their favorite parts of their favorite books. And somehow, they ended up in their beds, drinking one last cup of tea. They were hugging a pillow, wishing they could actually hug each other, but never saying those words. And so they kept talking until they fell asleep. 

(Y/N) had fallen asleep first. Spencer felt he had bored her ‘till she passed out, but the truth was, she had made her best effort to stay awake but failed at four in the morning. She loved talking with Spencer. She loved Spencer, all of him, including all the facts and statistics he would ramble on for hours. 

If only she knew he felt the same. He could hear her ramble about books and albums she loved. He didn’t know half the bands she talked about but always googled them after their conversations to understand her a little bit better. And to add facts to their next talk. 

.

- “Rossi! Rossi! unmute your mic”- Aaron repeated for the hundredth time during the call, but Rossi still had no idea what he was doing. 

- “Ok, ok, don’t touch anything, I’m hacking into your computer,”- Garcia simply said, already tired of waiting. It wasn’t the first time she had done it during the latest months. I wouldn’t be the last either. 

- “Hello? can you hear me?”

- “Yes, David”- Aaron nodded and almost smiled- “Hello everybody, I trust you are all having a nice day.”

It was their annual Secret Santa, and for the first time, it was online. They had all made sure to mail their presents earlier enough, and everybody had gotten theirs already. It was December 24th, and though it was still just noon, Rossi enjoyed the first whiskey of the day.  

.

- “I sent you all cookies!!”- Penelope clapped and smiled, staring into the camera- “Did you all get it?”

- “Yes!”- they all answered but (Y/N). 

- “No… I didn’t”

- “What?! But I sent them yesterday! the delivery said you had gotten them,”- Penelope explained, but (Y/N) just shook her head. 

- “Sorry Garcia, I just got my Secret Santa present this week, and that’s it”

- “Someone stole your cookies, pretty girl!”- Derek chuckled and took a bit of one of his- “Your lost, ‘cos they are delicious.” 

- “Great… not only I get to spend Christmas alone, now I have to bake my own cookies.”- she groaned and sighed. 

- “What? Alone?”- JJ was in shock- “What about your family? Family get-togethers are allowed this weekend. It just has to be less than ten people in each house.” 

- “They live in Seattle, and I can’t travel ‘cos I don’t wanna expose my grandparents to any risk, so I decided to spend Christmas alone”- (Y/N) cut the team a short smile. They all wide opened their eyes in shock. Christmas alone was never a good plan. 

- “Me and Jack are going to spend it with his grandfather and aunt. We would be glad to have you over.”- Hotch immediately said, and (Y/N) smiled.

- “Thank you, but that’s ok, it’s just Christmas…”- that really didn’t sound good. 

- “I’m gonna be alone too,”- Spencer texted her ‘cos he didn’t want to say it in front of the team- “Do you wanna spend Christmas with me? I can save you some cookies”. 

(Y/N) chuckled as she read, and Spencer smiled, staring at her. You don’t usually get to see the reaction of the person you text. And he loved it. 

- “Why are you going to be alone?”- she wrote back

- “Same as you, I don’t wanna expose my mom, and she is all the family I’ve got. She’ll spend Christmas with aunt Ethel”. 

- “Hey! (Y/N), are you listening?”- Penelope waved and nearly yelled. 

- “Sorry, what?”- (Y/N) left the phone aside and tried to focus on the team. 

- “JJ was saying you are also welcome to spend it with her mom, Henry, and Will.”

- “Thank you guys, but… I think I’ll be ok.” 

She blushed at those words and made her best not to look at Spencer as she smiled. Which was incredibly useless, ‘cos no one knew where Spencer’s image was on her screen. And at the same time, it was so easy for the team to profile what was going on. That’s why neither of them said another word.

- “Ok, can we start opening presents now?”- Prentiss asked. Her background was now a beach, and she had put on a big hat and sunglasses. Penelope and JJ laughed at her so loud that they didn’t listen when Aaron said they should make a distant toast. 

- “Wait! let me get something to drink!”- (Y/N) stood up quickly and poured herself a cup of tea. 

- “Ok, now I’m ready, sorry”- and when she looked at the screen, Spencer was blushing, and everybody was chuckling. 

- “What did I miss?”

- “Nothing pretty girl”- Derek just smiled- “Let’s do the presents thing… who wants to start?”

- “Henry is pretty restless today, so if you guys don’t mind, I want to start”- JJ waved and showed everybody her present. 

“You have to guess who gave you your present,”- Emily explained and sipped her cup of coffee. 

- “Alright… let’s see… I got this envelope from my Secret Santa and… it’s just what I needed!!”- JJ smiled and nearly jumped on her seat

- “It’s a whole spa day!! Mom needs a day off when this pandemic ends!! thank you, Secret Santa!!” 

- “Who do you think gave you that?”- Penelope asked, and JJ looked at each one of her teammates on the screen.

- I’m gonna go with… Hotch, ‘cos I think he understands exactly what’s like being a parent in quarantine- Aaron chuckled and shook his head. 

- “Sorry, I would have given you that, though, but it wasn’t me.”

- “Then who?”- Rossi raised his hand and smiled

- “I noticed you were a little… stressed last time we talked. I thought maybe when this whole thing ends, you would enjoy a day to treat yourself.”

- “Thank you so much, Rossi. I really appreciate it!!”

 .  

The whole team continued opening their presents and laughed, trying to guess who was their Secret Santa. Hotch got a horrible (and yet adorable) Christmas sweater with a gigantic Rudolph on it and a matching one for Jack. He guessed right away it was from Penelope. 

Hotch bought García a fantastic pair of high heels and confessed he had picked them himself. Aaron Hotchner had a pretty good fashion sense. Who knew? 

Rossi opened his present and laughed, shocked. It was one costly and hard to find Scotch bottle. He thought it was from Emily, but no, it was from (Y/N). 

- “I remembered you said it was your favorite, and I thought maybe you’d like to share it with us next time we have a real get-together in your house.”

- “It’s very nice and naive of you to think I might actually share this present with anyone”- Rossi smiled and waved at the screen- “Thank you, kid.”

Emily got a weekend in Vegas from JJ to make it up for the “Sin to Win” weekend she lost because of a case a few months before. And again, she refused to explain to the team what “Sin to Win” meant. 

Morgan got a life provision of baby oil to rub on his six pack and biceps each time he took his shirt off. It was a joke from Emily, and Rossi nearly had a heart attack laughing at it. Penelope wanted a demonstration, but Derek promised a private show. Prentiss also got him a new kit of tools for home repairs, which always came in handy for him… mostly to fix all the doors he kicked. 

- “And what did you get, Spence?”- JJ asked, now holding Henry in her arms, trying to keep him calm. Reid opened his present and smiled. It wasn’t a happy smile though, it was a “are you fucking kidding me?” smile.   

- “Dating for Dummies”- he said and showed the book- “And I’m pretty sure this is from Morgan.”

- “As soon as this quarantine ends, you and I are going to a club, so you better study that book, ‘cos I’m gonna make you put it on good use.”

Morgan joked, but after all those years, it just wasn’t funny anymore, not for Spencer, at least. 

- “And last but not least, what did you get (Y/N)?”- Penelope’s eyes were shining. She loved Secret Santa. She had forced Hotch to put on his sweater, and he was now feeling like a dork on camera. Garcia, of course, had taken many screen-captures to save that amazing moment. 

- “Well, I’m pretty sure this is from Spencer”- she smiled, ‘cos he was the only one left. He blushed and waved. 

- “I hope you like it”- (Y/N) unwrapped the present carefully and smiled, surprised. 

- “Where did you get this?”- it was an original edition of The Little Prince, in french. It was tough to find. 

- “You said you loved the book ‘cos your mom read it to you when you were a kid, so… I thought you’d like it.”

(Y/N) couldn’t stop going through each page, as a million memories of her childhood came to her mind. Her mother had passed away when she was in high school, and the book meant more to her than anyone could imagine. 

- “Thank you”- she whispered and bit her lip, making her best not to cry. 

- “Jesus Christ! When is he going to tell her he loves her!?”- Rossi nearly yelled. He was in the back of his office, pouring himself a glass of his Secret Santa present. 

The whole team stayed quiet, making their best not to laugh. Spencer wanted to die. He rested his head on the desk and controlled the urge to leave the conversation. 

- “Hey, Rossi… just so you know, you weren’t muted.”- Prentiss managed to say and chuckled. He looked at the screen and stayed quiet. 

- “Ok... I think I’m gonna go now. This Scotch is already getting to my head, so… see you guys!!”- Rossi waved and tried to leave. 

- “Fuck! I hope I didn’t ruin it for the kid. Well, someone had to say it anyway”- he whispered, embarrassed.

- “Rossi, we can still hear you. You didn’t close the conversation, just minimized it”- JJ warned him, and that time, everybody burst out laughing. 

- “Ok, I’m gonna go now…”- Spencer couldn’t even look at (Y/N) anymore. He just waved and closed Zoom. 

- “I’m gonna go too”- (Y/N) whispered- “I hope everybody has a nice holiday!”- she didn’t even wait for anyone to say anything else. She just left the conversation and walked to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water. 

What the hell had just happened? 

.

Spencer had a panic attack. What was he supposed to do now? Confess his feelings? Rossi had already done it for him. Should he call (Y/N) and tell her it was just a joke? Tell her the truth? Invite her over for Christmas, again? 

- “Fuck!!”- he shouted and walked to his kitchen. Some whiskey Morgan left last time he visited was still there, and though Reid wasn’t much of a drinker, he needed one. 

He honestly had no idea what to do. He knew he couldn’t face (Y/N) now. How? he would fluster just to be in the same room with her. Rossi really ruined everything. It seemed it was the end of the world. 

- “I’m gonna have to quit, move from DC, change my name, start my life from scratch…” 

Yes, Spencer was making a drama out of the whole situation. But in his defense, he had never been in that kind of situation before. 

.

It was eight pm when Spencer heard a knock on the door. He had been lying on his couch most of the afternoon, trying to read. Still, his mind kept coming back to (Y/N) and the embarrassment he felt after Rossi’s comment.

- “Hi”- (Y/N) whispered as soon as Reid opened the door, and his heart stopped- “You said I could come for Christmas… so…”- he stood still and just nodded. She was there, wearing a Dr. Who mask, with some snowflakes on her coat.  

- “Can I come in?”

- “Sure! I’m sorry, I just…”- Spencer moved from the door and watched her taking off her shoes, leaving a few paper bags on the table, and smiling at him as soon as she removed her mask. 

- “Can I wash my hands?”

- “Of course, the bathroom is…”- Reid stopped himself. She knew where the bathroom was. That wasn’t the first time she was there.    

While she washed her hand, he made his best to clean a little, folded the blanket on his couch, and piled all the books that were lying around. 

- “So… I hope I’m not interrupting anything…”- (Y/N) started apologizing again, but Spencer just shook his head. 

- “No, not at all, I just wasn’t expecting you to come after… what…”- he couldn’t even mention it.

- “After what Rossi said?”- she turned around and avoided looking at Spencer. She walked to the bags she had brought and started taking things out

 - “Should we worry he was getting drunk so early?”- she simply said, and Reid chuckled

- “I don’t know, maybe… what are you doing?”

- “Well… I’m not into chicken tandoori for Christmas, so I cooked some things.”

- “It smells delicious”- Reid smiled, and so did (Y/N), feeling her cheeks blushing. 

- “It’s mom’s turkey recipe, so it better be good”

- “Let me put that in the fridge”- Reid held the turkey, roasted potatoes, and many other things (Y/N) had cooked and walked to the kitchen. 

- “I also got you this”- (Y/N) giggled and followed Spencer. As soon as he left everything he was carrying, she put a Santa hat with red and white stripes on his head.

- “You look like the cat in the hat”- she joked, and Spencer laughed, feeling like the happiest nerd on earth. 

- “I’m gonna take that as a compliment.”

- “It is…”- (Y/N) stared at him and sighed, both of them smiling in silence for a second. 

- “Did you get one for yourself too?”- he finally asked.

- “Yes! so we can take dorky pictures and send them to Garcia, she is gonna love those”- she made a pause and bit her lips for a second. 

- “So… do you like Christmas traditions?”- she asked and looked down at her shoes 

- “Mmm, sure… like watching Home Alone drinking hot chocolate?- Spencer asked, thinking he hadn’t really lived many Christmas traditions growing up. However, he knew his mother had made her best to make him happy each holiday. 

- “Yeah… that and… maybe this”

(Y/N) took a mistletoe from her pocket and lifted her arm to place it right on top of their heads. 

Spencer didn’t move. He just wide opened his eyes, staring at (Y/N), who was now smiling, completely blushed. 

- “Since we are spending Christmas together, I thought… we… could…”- but she couldn’t finish talking, ‘cos Spencer leaned in slowly, very slowly until he reached her lips and kissed her. His hands cupped her cheeks carefully, and her arms ended up wrapped around his neck.  

- “Merry Christmas, Spencer”- she whispered, rubbing her lips against his when the kiss ended, but neither of them wanted to move apart.

- “Merry Christmas, (Y/N)” 

.

[pumpkinpot]

Can I get an aizawa x reader where he has a thigh kink, like as he goes down on her he wants to basically be crush by them and also thigh fucking😶

OH MY GODS hello! Thank you for being my first request. I can absolutely do that. I have to admit, though I adore Aizawa, I've never wrote for him so.... I'm sorry if its not fantastic the first couple rounds. Also, I did not get a proof reader just wrote it and left.

Jesus this ended up being longer than intended lol. Its also very him oriented. the reader is not played with as much in this one

TW: Sex. sub!Aizawa themes. Thigh asphyxiation kink. (breath play.)

Word out 1.3k

*

*

His day was shit. No other way to put it. From children not cooperating to his higher ups demand he "control his students better," he had two goals. Go home and go the fuck to bed. But when he opened the door to his empty apartment the silence threatened to drown him.

You'd expressed many times that your home was open to him and that you'd even like to see him more when you he had time or energy. To solidify this you'd slipped him a key, that had remained untouched on his bedside table ever since.

It wasn't that he didn't want to use it more than anything he craved you but, it was a genuine case of time. you lived across town and it was hard to get away from work when he quite literally lived at his job. Plus, though he wouldn't admit it, he was afraid of boring you. Whenever he did have a second to himself it was often stolen by ungraded papers or a much needed coffee break.

You didn't deserve him to come over and work at your dining room table.

He stays at his place only long enough to swipe the key from the table and grab a snack bag. (a snack offering for you taking in his stray ass.)

*

You'd gotten the text, "can I come over?" thirty minutes ago and replied a bit too quickly for your liking. "yes, please."

You didn't intend to sound so needy but aside from the morning texts and occasional calls it had become nearly impossible to see each other recently.

A knock came to the front door, followed by a clink of his key in the lock. You tried to act as nonchalant as you could, laying on your sofa, flipping through a random book.

His fingers spread throughout your hair, scratching bit behind your ear. you were nearly positive that his is how he scratches his cats but shit, if this is the treatment they got from him on a regular basic get you some cat ears and a tail.

"Hey baby," you say lacing your fingers through his and planting a kiss on his wrist.

He responds with a kiss of his own, tapping your leg. You open to him as he nestles himself between your thighs.

"Long day?" you ask, pinning a stand of loose hair behind his ear. you practically feel the tension shimmy from his bones as he melts into you.

"Hmhm," is all he says. Your thighs are bare the only part of you covered by a pair of kitten printed panties and one of his tee shirts he'd left for you. "thank you for letting me come over."

It wasn't a favor. You needed this as much as he did, but that was going to stay behind closed lips for now. "Of course my love."

Pulling your right thigh over his shoulder, he closed his eyes, burring himself deeper into your touch.

He taps a finger on the curve of your hips so you lift your butt, his hands sliding across the swell of your ass before you melt back down.

Massaging lightly where your thigh meets the curve of your butt, your hips lazily grind against his chest in a slow row.

The act, though as innocent as it might have began is steadily heats a need in him.

A pang of guilt cools him down like ice. This wasn't why he came here. He didn't come to get off and not see you again for a month, but fuck the way he fit between your legs had his mind wandering to what it might feel like to-

The thought is cut by the long intentional grid you give this time your hand never leaving the base of his hair.

where you-

"what are you reading?" He fishes, looking up at your distracted gaze.

You'd reread the same sentence at least a dozen time trying to distract yourself from a need growing in your belly. He didn't come here to be used as a sex toy. It was the first time he'd used your key and the last thing you wanted was to make him thing that' s all you wanted. Plus, He's probably tired. "Nothing important."

Shota takes the vague answer as a slight invitation to distract you, as much as you'll allow him.

the pads of his fingers dig grooves into your ass as he gives one, two, three kisses to the tops of your thigh, working his way down your hip.

The leg still over his shoulder flexes instinctually and you feel the heat break.

He pulls your other thigh up, wrapping his hand just below your knees. you give a playful squeeze. He squeeze's with you, a silent plea for more pressure. You give a half flex, his breath hitching.

A long sigh follows before his eyes find yours. He passes a glance between you and your discarded book a smile dancing along his lips. "you ready to give me attention?"

You opt out of giving an answer, instead, pulling your heels together behind him and giving another halfhearted grip. He sucks in a breath ready for the asphyxiation, but you release too soon and the air gets caught in his throat.

"oh, you," he bites down on the thick of your thigh, "little tease."

You smile a wicked thing his want to be viced between your legs evident by his needy fingers digging into your skin and heavy breathing, waiting for any moment for you to take the air away from him.

"Feeling needy baby?" you say, brushing hair from his forehead. you hug your thighs together only to readjust your seated position.

He pants again, eyes betrayed by your lack of follow through to end his shit via your thighs.

"I-I," he starts, but you break the sentence with a full engagement of your leg muscles, his mouth falling open into a pleading O.

you release after a few seconds. "Show me." you demand.

He unclenches his left hand, tapping on your thigh. A tell tell sign he needs a release for air.

"You do want more?" you ask.

He nods, leaving kisses down your thighs. "yes."

"yes what?"

"Yes, please."

Shota pulls his knees under his planting on all fours. with your permission he unzips himself starting off slowly against his shaft, with a loose grip.

Due to his hero costume Shota had to get used to slight asphyxiation pretty early on, but he can nearly picture the exact moment he realized he liked it, and believe it or not, It had nothing to do with scarf. It looked a lot like right now actually. He was actively being chocked out be a villain's thighs during a rouge patrol night and though it wasn't the best of circumstances he had been looking for a safe way to experiment with this feeling ever since. That's when he found you.

Propped on either side of his head the gradual intensity of your muscles vising him as him gripping himself harder. He allows his tongue to lull out, saliva dripping down your leg and pooling on your panties.

you feel the shake of his hand pumping faster and faster, his release nearing. As you feel his movements begin to stutter you flex one last time before releasing your hold.

His vision blurs at the corners as the rush of his orgasm tears through him followed by air in his lungs. his fingers tingle the cum seeping from his feeling like a jot of light energy forcing him to slightly buck his hips.

He decorates the back of your legs, coming up onto his knees to pump through the crease in your thighs, riding out the high.

He doesn't mean to hold his breath and doesn't realize he's doing so until you pull him down to you and whisper, "breath," into his ear.

He releases a shaky breath hand massaging the back of your thigh and he kneads the cum over your skin.

"I-," he breaths into your neck. "I want more."

you pull your legs around his hip, pushing his cock to rub against your saliva soaked panties.

"Then take more baby."

[ellitx]

Hi hi! ⚔ Knight Anon here! Feel free to add me to the anon list. ❤❤❤

I'm also here because I saw Professor Venti stuff and HNGGGHHHH brainrot is just beautiful right now. My back is injured right now but let me be honest he could blow it right tf out right now 😭 so I want to share not only nsfw but sfw headcanons and stuff too.

So!

The SFW stuff first!

• Professor Venti is the kind of professor EVERY student loves. I see him walking in late to class sometimes with an ice coffee and some weird but entertaining excuse to get some laughs from students.

• Quiet class? Nah. That won't fly. He is the kind of teacher who will say, "Good Morning/Afternoon/Evening" and if he doesn't get a good response, he will ask for more enthusiasm and try again to get a better response. Not in the cringe way though.

• Inside jokes GALORE. He loves to entertain and if you cannot have fun while learning, what is the point? He wants his students to feel comfortable with him too and laughter is always the best medicine.

• Absolutely a great and open communicator. If you are having trouble in class, he is always willing to help and will happily set up private tutoring sessions if you need more practice.

• He also is a teacher that will find ways to bend the rules because to be honest? The Education System can be be quite a scam sometimes.

• Music is the key to the soul and Professor Venti wants everyone to enjoy the music they make. I see him allowing students to bring in pieces they want to learn and play to practice. He'll even learn it too to make you smile.

• Random "tests"? Absolutely. He will throw in stuff to boost the grades of his students so they can pass. Though he does want to make sure people are actually trying to work hard in his class! No slackers allowed!

The NSFW Stuff

• Oh he definitely is a roleplayer. He LOVES the whole, "TeacherxStudent" scenarios and will love to tease any students that want a better grade in class both verbally and physically.

• He didn't get to Professor status by sheer looks alone, he has skill and unlike other teachers, those long, slender and beautiful fingers he has can easily pluck your strings all the way from G, and go from major to minor c to d (yes that is a SIX The Musical reference ;) )

• If you are a perfectionist like I am, boy I hope you will be okay because to piggy back off of the other comments made, he will use it against you to make sure you play every single note correctly. All the while, he will purposefully try to make you fail and test not only your patience, but your focus and willpower.

• Be prepared to be a pretty little cockwarmer for hours on end to perfect what you are doing. Professor Venti is not only a tease, but he is a very patient individual who seems to always have all the time in the world for the arts.

• He will CONSTANTLY and casually tell you to see him after class for your, "Private tutoring". While the connotations are innocent enough, it never is just music. Of course, he will make you work for your rewards, but you won't get any kind of release until you do your work and do it right. After all, he is a humble teacher who only wants your success. ;)

• He will NEVER degrade you during any practices. If you ever mention to him that other instructors would talk down to you, he will not tolerate it and do his best to not only make you forget about them, but pay attention to only him and what he wants to say/do to you.

• While pianos and violins are beautiful instruments, no instrument can quite compare to your body and soul. Your voice and the sounds you make are beautiful music to his ears and he will absolutely say you are his favorite instrument to play with.

• Be prepared to not only study hard, but "play" hard as well. Remember, your grades can depend on your performance. Perform well, you not only pass your classes with him, but you definitely get rewarded in the form of whatever love, affection, and attention of your choice.

• He absolutely will leave marks all over you if possible as you play. Why should he not get to hear a beautiful voice accompany the wonderful piano playing you are doing? It is almost criminal not to let the instruments play together!

• Especially when you do well, he LOVES to praise you during the most intimate moments together. "You are doing so well [Name], I'd almost say you are better than me at this." "You sure are a fast learner, but we have much more work to do." "What a delightful instrument you are, please keep singing for me. I need to hear your harmonies more."

• He absolutely would bend you over the piano (with the top part closed of course!) and depending on how he is feeling will either be painfully slow while taking you from behind or rougher with you. He may even juggle either side of the scale just so he can hear you beg for him even more.

• "Professor Venti!" Absolutely hits different for him and he is down for it. Every time you would say his name and title in class will make it a bit harder for him function, but he does manage.

• If you try to tease him during class by wearing more provocative clothing or acting in a slightly lewder but "innocent" manner, be prepared for a more "challenging" lesson.

That's it for me! I could keep going but I may melt my own brain doing this! 😭❤

This isnt just a food...

This is a high class gourmet meal for every simps to dine in 😭🍽

Im grinning so widely at the nsfw hcs because you know how thirsty i am for nsfw hcs of professor venti and you literally blessed my inbox with this 😭😭 thank you so much for this i really appreciate every single bits of these hcs you wrote anon 🥺💕💕

These are my favourites 👉👈

Be prepared to be a pretty little cockwarmer for hours on end to perfect what you are doing

He absolutely would bend you over the piano (with the top part closed of course!) and depending on how is he feeling will either be painfully slow while taking you from behind or rougher with you

Ive been reading these repeatedly and imagining all the possible scenarios i can think of with just these bits of information

YOU KNOW WHAT IM GONNA WRITE AN NSFW SCENARIO FOR IT CUZ I KNOW EVERYONE IS CRAVING FOR THESE AS WELL AND NOT JUST ME

[whileyoursleeping]

Here

Hello all, I wrote a lil oneshot post-canon for the season 4 finale. Shameless fluff. You’ve been warned. This has also been posted on AO3 - link HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31520699

TW: Mentions of the shooting; mentions of PTSD.

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

Buck wears socks to bed.

It’s disturbing in a way. Eddie doesn’t know anyone above the age of ten who still wears socks to bed – except, apparently, Buck.

Buck is also still sleeping on his couch.

Eddie’s been home for a week. He’s mastered the on-off motion of his sling for the shower, he’s sleeping okay – as okay as anyone can while being literally fucking shot for no good reason, and not even in Afghanistan, at that – and he’s not in significant amounts of pain, anymore. The meds have taken care of that, and he’s taking them dutifully, because he might not like them but Chris needs him. Chris needs him more a little stoned than he does bedridden from pain.

But it’s been a week, and Buck is still sleeping on his couch.

It’s not even comfortable. Buck’s not small enough to fit on there without cramping up. And Eddie just – kind of hasn’t told him to go home, and Buck just kind of isn’t going home, he’s more or less just ferrying his things back and forth between Eddie’s coffee table and his own apartment, studiously avoiding eye contact each time, as if Eddie is going to catch his eye and say – well, say what? “Go home? Thanks for taking care of my son and carrying my lifeless body to the fire truck and risking your fucking neck again to save my life and keeping a vigil – but go home?” Not fucking likely.

So he’s sleeping on Eddie’s couch. And Eddie’s not sure how to approach it – or if he even wants to approach it. Buck was scared. He said as much, and other people said as much, and Eddie remembers Buck picking him up and putting him in the ambulance. Fire truck? He doesn’t remember the details, he just – remembers Buck picking him up.

If he’s honest with himself – and he’s trying to be after that whole “follow your own heart” crap Carla pulled on him – he doesn’t particularly want Buck to leave. Buck saved his life, and Eddie feels weirdly safer with him here. It’s nice to have him around in the mornings – even if he looks tired. Even if Eddie’s couch has not been useable as a couch in over a week now.

He wanders into the living room that morning to find that Buck is already rubbing his eyes, sleepily, looking totally worn out and like he’d like to go back to sleep, but can’t. He sits when he hears Eddie enter – a dog standing at attention.

“Okay?” he checks worriedly.

Eddie smiles drowsily. “You know the pain meds keep me pleasantly high almost all day, right?”

“Yeah.” Buck doesn’t look soothed. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.” Eddie pats his shoulder on the way past, yawning. “Breakfast?”

“I’ll make pancakes.”

~*~

Buck is exhausted.

Eddie knows this because Eddie wakes up a lot at night and goes wandering. He does this because despite the pain pills, he’s just not moving enough to be tired, and his normal army sleep schedule never really left him. He’s like a fucked-up, traumatised meerkat – awake every two to three hours, patrolling the perimeter, looking for enemies.

Just so happens that his perimeter is the length of his hallway between Chris’s room and the couch, where Buck is decidedly not resting peacefully. His enemy, at the moment? The Roomba. Chris has stuck several dozen googly eyes to it and, at one point, had armed it with a butter knife. It’s mildly terrifying. Butter-knife-less at the moment – but terrifying. Eddie squints at it as he moves towards the kitchen.

(“Because it’s funny, Dad,” he’d giggled. “Maybe it’ll make Buck laugh.”

Buck had laughed, but in a strained, I’m-so-tired-I-want-to-cry kind of way. Eddie’s dreading coming off his pain pills for the pure fact that it’ll probably be him next. PTSD is a bitch.)

He was going to get water, but that requires moving through the living room. Buck is crashed out on the couch – his duffel is spilling over on the floor, his phone facedown on the coffee table. Eddie can see him relatively well with the street lights and moon lighting up the smallish living room – he doesn’t look like he’s sleeping peacefully. In fact, even as Eddie watches, Buck twitches.

He goes ramrod still, abruptly not thinking about his heavily-armed Roomba or meerkat analogies. He is suddenly, painfully, sober – the pain pills feel burned out of him as he watches Buck twist, his fingers twitching and then curling into the duvet, face scrunched.

A nightmare. Buck is having a nightmare. Eddie’s not high anymore. The pills are no longer filling his head with cotton and fuzz – every single sense feels alight like it hasn’t in two weeks, tuned in to Buck, struggling, on the couch.

What’s he supposed to do? What can he do?

He watches, alarmed, as Buck gasps and jerks – his stupid socked feet flail and kick into the arm of the couch, and the duvet goes flying back. Buck’s upright, at least semi-upright, on one elbow, panting and scrabbling against the thin, shitty mattress – for what? Purchase? A hand to hold? A memory to cling to, something to soothe him through the remainder of the night?

The room’s quiet. Eddie’s frozen, unsure of what to do. Is this what it was like after the tsunami?

After a moment, Buck makes a sound – a whimper, or a cry, or some awful hybrid of the two – and collapses back, rolls onto his side, away from the TV, and curls up, not bothering to adjust the duvet. His feet – he’s wearing white socks tonight – flex, toes clenching.

Buck drags the corner of the duvet up over his face. The next noise he makes is very clearly a quiet sob and Eddie – oh, he cannot stand this. He’s not going to watch it any longer.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Buck hasn’t been sleeping, at least not well. He did the first night – eleven hours, actually – but every night after that has been plagued with nightmares. He’s heard Buck rustling around or pacing and watched him try to put on a brave face every morning at breakfast, and he can’t do it anymore.

His feet cross the floorboards. He sits on the edge of the couch – Buck flinches – and puts his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, rubs gently.

Buck sniffles. He doesn’t move for a long time, keeps the duvet up over his face. He doesn’t make any more noises, but his shoulders shake, and Eddie remembers – I kinda lost it when I told him you got shot. I’m sorry, I should’ve held it together.

Eddie wonders when anyone reasonably expected Buck to hold it together.

Buck moves suddenly – his fingers grip at Eddie’s, and they’re shaking. He holds on and – well, if Buck wants to hold hands, it’s not like they haven’t done it before. Eddie held his hand for an hour or more while they were getting him out from under the ladder truck two years ago. Eddie’s happy to hold his hand.

He doesn’t know how to help. Buck’s still sniffling, his face angled away from Eddie’s. He’s happy to take the comfort, but not happy to let Eddie know he’s crying, apparently.

They sit like that for a while. Eddie’s helpless and almost angry for it. It’s not like he hasn’t suffered – he has. It’s going to take therapy, physical and mental, to get past this. But Buck – Buck watched it happen. Watched him almost die. Buck’s not stoned and he wasn’t shot and there’s no buffer between him and the memories. For the first time, Eddie is angry at the team – how has no one noticed? How has no one cared?

Buck drags a hand across his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Bet you’re sick of me crying.”

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, I – I am, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

Buck nods into the pillow. His legs flex – he has to be cold; the air is definitely cool and Buck hates cold weather with a passion. He’s wearing socks and boxers and a hoodie and all of that thoroughly confuses Eddie – he wants to arrange the duvet properly but he can’t with Buck clinging to his hand. That’s fine too.

He thinks about it for a moment. Problem – Buck is sad; Buck is scared. Buck is clearly traumatised. Nobody appears to have addressed that last one.

Solution. Well, Chris seems to help a lot. But Chris is asleep, and Eddie can’t really properly address the trauma thing.

But he can maybe make Buck feel less alone.

He removes his hand from Buck’s shoulder, clumsily adjusts the duvet, and then climbs under it, adjusting until his side is pressed to Buck’s back and he can feel Buck trembling horribly against him. His legs twitch; his socks brush Eddie’s bare feet.

“Why do you wear socks to bed?” Eddie asks.

There’s a long pause. Then, “That’s what you want to know?”

“Sure.”

“I… don’t know?”

Eddie makes a face at the ceiling. Buck hasn’t rolled over. “You don’t know?” he asks dubiously. “Are your feet cold?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you wear socks to bed in summer?”

“I… sort of do it all year round – Eddie, what’re you doing?”

He doesn’t know, truthfully, beyond trying to cheer Buck up. Although, maybe he just – needs to cry? Sometimes when Chris is upset he just needs to cry. No solutions, just… comfort.

He pushes against Buck’s back more, and, because he can’t reach Buck’s hands like this, links their ankles together. Buck shifts – but only to stop the knobs of their bones rubbing uncomfortably. He sighs, shakily, but when breath finally leaves his lungs entirely, he almost feels steadier.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he whispers.

~*~

Buck rolls during the night, a soft breath leaving him. Eddie’s only aware of it because it ghosts across his throat – Buck’s rolled towards him.

The mattress shifts. Buck is deliciously warm against Eddie’s side – his socked feet brush against Eddie’s shins, a few times, almost deliberately. Buck sighs again, settles.

The air goes still. Eddie can smell something new and different, faintly – the couch bed smells like Buck, like the woody, fresh scent of his aftershave and a little spicy and like Buck’s own shampoo. There’s something indefinable about it – something that’s just how Buck smells.

Eddie yawns. His jaw cracks. His shoulder, at the moment, doesn’t hurt, even when he shifts and looks for Buck’s hand, clumsily – he finds it, pulls it up until he can link their fingers together and rest their joined palms on his own belly. He squeezes. Are you there?

A second passes before Buck squeezes back. His palms are rough and hot and his thumb nervous where it brushes Eddie’s knuckles.

Yes. I’m here.

Eddie yawns. He goes back to sleep.

~*~

The sunlight punching through the living room window wakes him up.

He blinks. He’s on his back still – his feet are cold. When he turns his head to the side, the first thing he sees is Buck’s face – buried somewhere in the vicinity of Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

He’s drooling. It’s a little cute. Eddie raises his head – his shoulder twinges unhappily – and looks to the end of the couch.

Yep. Buck’s still wearing socks. His legs are curled up, almost like he’s trying to keep warm, and he’s more or less pressed to Eddie’s side, but not quite on top of him.

Eddie’s struck with the sudden though that if his shoulder wasn’t injured, he’d roll over – put an arm over Buck and let Buck hide as long as he needed to. He can’t do that right now, and the impulse is frightening if only because it doesn’t come from the so-called brotherly love he’s continued to tell himself is what he feels for Buck.

It’s not so frightening he can’t deal with it though. Quietly. And he might not be able to hug Buck right now – but Buck slept through till morning, the first time in more than a week in all likelihood. He even looks peaceful.

If Eddie does pursue this – whatever this is, this little, fledgling, hopeful thing in his chest – he can only hope that Buck reciprocates. It’ll take time, of course. Plenty of it. But – Buck is already Chris’s other parent in the ways that matter and he’s kept bedside vigils and they slept here, last night, holding hands for the majority of it. Is there a lot left to think about? Eddie doesn’t think so.

He raises his head again. Looks down.

Except those socks, maybe. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

[power-of-plot]

Iida, Mirio, and Aizawa dating hcs please

Of course! But holy cow apparently this seriously inspired me, i hope this is ok xd

I I D A

Oh yes robot boi. Iida is someone nerdy in every aspect, his language even with close friends like Midoriya is very formal and polite, the same rule would apply when it comes to his significant other. Unlike what some would think, this doesn’t give your conversations a cold touch, on the contrary, it’d make him look chivalrous.

He’s a classic gentleman, he’d be the kind who opens the door and waits for you to walk in first or gives you his jacket when it’s too cold and you don’t have anything to cover yourself with, the second one would happen often in the classroom if you’re sensitive to cold. We are talking about U.A have you seen the measures of the classrooms and the entire area? It’s impossible they don’t have those huge air conditioners.

He highly respects the rules wich means, no PDA, on a certain level, no kisses to be specific. That doesn’t mean he won’t give you any affection, though every gear of his robotic soul is having a bad time working properly inside, he’d hold your hand or put his over your shoulder pulling you close when you’re sitting together. 

He definitely would do that thing of caressing you with his thumb. As you expected it from Tenya, this is a sort of robotic motion, his finger would move like a metronome but that doesn’t make it any less nicer, he is slow and gentle.

Honestly, he’d be nervous most of the time. ALSO! Tenya is very thoughtful, he’d ask (often verbally) if you’re okay with whatever he’d do, as times goes by the questions turn non verbal, for example he’d hold his hand above yours waiting for you to give green light or grasp it. 

“..Can i hold your hand?” “Sure!” “*DEEP INHALE AND BLUSH*” He couldn’t help to blush the first times. Specially on the firsT kiss but how would it be? A clasic scenenario after classes! And after you both have grown comfortable enough to each other’s touch. Seriously, if you like to go slow he's got you.

You two would be walking around in the campus after classes and he feels the tension grow.. he is analyzing every detail, he wants to ask but what if things get extremely awkward, he’s very tall- he’d have to bend down slightly (unless you’re nearly as tall as him) to do it so what if you flinch because it was unexpected.. he stops walking, he simply manages to say your name. You stared into each other's eye and then it happened, a big smile unexplainably forms in his lips complemented by a scarlet color across his whole face, his haircut made his head look like a strawberry.

There are going to be days you don't see him as much as you'd like, Tenya is very comitted to his hero patrols, he certainly would do extra hours from time to time or if the situation called for it. Let him know you like his hero suit! He’s thankful it has a helmet otherwise his flustered face would be exposed. 

Whatever position you cuddle in Iida would wrap his arms around you, not only that, he’d interlock his fingers so he has a nice grip. His cuddles would be the classic spooning or having your head on his shoulder with your arm over his chest and in case you worry about his arm, this guy doesn’t know limb numbness- he literally tenses and holds his arms up every five minutes.

He sends good morning/good night texts often on the weekends since you're practically living together thanks to the dormitory system, they vary depending on the day, some are a reminder to get a proper amount of sleep or! To get done with homework so you can enjoy your free time and maybe ask if he can go over to study *cough spend time together*

He'd send the classic heart emoji, very detailed but easy to comprehend videos explaining any difficult lesson and history related stuff like paint restorations or facts about iconic sculptures. Please don’t send him those videos of people accidentally breaking things on museums, he’s gonna feel like something breaks inside.

M I R I O

This ray of sunshine fell for you? Your luck is so big you’d get jackpot on a slot machine on the first try-. You’re undeniably going to be good friends with Tamaki and Nejire, specially her, expect to get questions one after another without the chance to reply when she finds out you’re Mirio’s significant other, Tamaki would take it way better.

Mirio’s goofyness and confidence combined with his feelings give a unique result: he literally spoke to the boss of mafia himself twice like he was the manager in a store, but, the case is different when you’re around, he’s saying and actually good joke and suddenly.. it goes away, his mind goes blank. “So what happened after Mirio..?” “Ah.. i had practiced a lot, i don’t know what happened haha my bad!”

You’re going to get tons of his jokes and something more “intense” such as the classic “What’s in your shirt?” to make you look down so he can boop your nose with his finger, you should expect some gentle headpats as well. 

If you’re shy he’s cool about it, he knows what do and adaptates to your pace, you’d start off with hand holding or rather pinky holding, he’d interwine his pinky with yours and show a bright smile. His hugs are the warmest, he doesn’t do it half-assesly, when you hug, YOU HUG, he uses both arms and slightly lifts you up! Height or strength are not a problem he’s actually one cm taller than Iida i just found out

He seems like the kind who loses their pen or eraser despite seeing it on their desk just one minute ago, if you happen to be that kind as well you’re both going to lay down your faith on poor Tamaki’s hands, i’m sure he has all his material complete.

He hardly ever gets nervous or scared by anything, things like the first kiss would go pretty smooth, instead of blushing intensely he’d just chuckle with slight disbelief, his mind is racing like “I just did that? woah!”. The biggest trouble for him would be gifts, he wants it to be perfect but asking Nejire for advice is not a good idea, roses are too formal and they don’t last long, going to the movies seems a little cliche.. his first gift would end up being a plushie of your favorite animal and a bamboo.

He’d sneak a kiss or two, specially before the class is begginning a training session, he’d send you a text telling you to go outside the changing rooms and oop! He phases through the wall poking out his head to give you a kiss kiss. If you don’t mind a prank from time to time he’d give a little scare using his quirk.

This guy is the big spoon during cuddles, no arguing! He could switch but as time goes by he’d slowly shift into the big spoon, that’s just the way he is, the most usual position would be where you’re facing each other with your limbs wrapping around the other’s body. Waking up with him would be adorable and attractive, morning and night are the only times of the day when his hair isn’t gelled into his All Might-like hairstyle, those blonde locks would frame his face, a heavenly sight.

Would send you a pic of stray animals he rescued with a “:D!” and Sir. Nighteye 'torturing' Bubble girl (half of his head visibly on a corner of the image). If you longed for a pet badly he would bring a nice dog/cat he finds around! In his hero suit to make the moment more special. 

He uses the smiling emojis and emoticons! And shares videos of animals he finds adorable, if you sent him fails videos he'd laugh as long as the falls don't seem extreme or too severe, small trips on the beach or slips on the snow are fine. Mirio sends gifs i just know.

A I Z A W A

Have you taken a look at him? You must be a big The Walking Dead fan to like him lmao. Aizawa gives me an unexplainable gut feeling that he'd prefer a civilian (perhaps quirkless?) significant other over a hero, he wouldn't want his partner to go into the same dangerous situations he does.

His affection is tired, let me explain, he'd hug you and all that physical stuff but it'd kinda feel like his arms fall limply around you, still, even with his minuscule clingyness he loves you with all his might! He doesn't fall for anyone.

Not very fond of PDA, in public he'd preferr temple/forehead kisses and having your hand on the crook of his arm instead of hand holding (thinking about it Iida would do that too), seems more discret and! you don't let go when his hands are busy. He'd initiates it by gently resting your hand on his arm and sinking his hand into his pocket.

Surprise! He does smile, not that maniactic-looking grin he has sometimes during his shifts at U.A when a student impresses him, this one is less wide but somehow more tender and sweet, he tilts his head and for once his eyes seem relaxed, a relationship would make his cheeks hurt.. either for he's not used to smile so much or he smiles more than he thought he would.

If you give him a cat.. that's a strong blow straight to one of his weakest spots, he'd stare both at you and the kitten with a dumbfounded look before picking it up in his arm like a baby, his hand gravitates towards his it's head giving some nice pets before he shows a rare and somewhat bright smile "Thank you very much." Next time have a camera ready damnit! That smile rarely shows up.

He's practical, he wants his gifts to be nice but useful as well. He’d get you those mugs with candies inside, you get the candy and you can use the mug later for your coffee or tea; a power bank with a nice color or design and in case he choses something smaller: a bamboo, those one don’t wither away. Aizawa is fine with whatever you get for him, big or small he appreciates it. Sweaters, scarfs and blankets would be his favorite thing to get though, he likes to stay warm while working late at night

He’s sneaky, as an underground hero he’s used to work at times when the streets look disolated and the dark crime has more freedom to do as it pleases, he wouldn’t want to wake you up unless you asked him to. He’d leave a note on is pillow with the time he wrote it at and a short loving phrase like “i love you, i’ll be back soon, good morning”, before he leaves he’d always lift the sheet up to your neck or drag it away if you seem to be kicking it off you and give you a small kiss.

You’d find him passed out in his sleeping bag with his laptop besides him at random spots of his appartment, if it wasn’t because of the unatura position he adopts to fit in his sleeping bag he’d give you a death scare ‘cause let’s be honest he doesn’t look one hundred percent alive even when he’s awake. “Shota..? Shota can you hear me?!” “I’m not dead.”

Hibrid of big-small spoon. Most of the times you cuddle he’s asleep and you go snuggle him, his hair is a mess so better prepare to get tickled all night. He pull you close the best way he can when you’re behind him, not very comfortable for his arm but it’s worth it. He’d have you like a pillow over him, his chin over your head and both arms around you.

This man doesn’t bother typing when he can use his voice, the only situations he uses regular text messages are when he’s on shift or with you sleeping next to him. Send him gifs of kittens and a ‘i love you’ it instanstly gives him a good mood! He’d send pics of cats he sees around and gifts he bought you, doesn’t use emojis.

*COLLAPSES ON THE GROUND* Big oof- requests are open.

[hockeyboysiguess]

sunflowers | m. tkachuk

a/n: today, i offer a humble too long matthew tkachuk fic, full of angst and thoughts about love.

i would like to thank @nolypats​, for having a dream that i wrote a fic about? that dream looks nothing like this fic, but that was the og inspiration, and for being so supportive during the writing of this monster. also, @jasondickinsons​ and @slapshot-to-the-heart​ for freaking out every time i sent you a preview. never would’ve finished it without these three. 

word count: 20K

warnings: swearing, and a ton of angst.

wine pairing recommendation: a full bodied cabernet sauvignon, because this fic is full bodied.

You ran a hand through your hair as you looked at Matthew across your apartment. The mug in your hands felt heavy and the tea inside had gone cold. The look on Matthew’s face when he walked in the front door had made you set it aside and forget about it entirely. He had been nervous, hesitant, his movements almost delayed, like there was too many thoughts swimming in his head for the signals to get down to his muscles at the correct timing. You drummed your nails on the cool ceramic, your fingertips tracing the outline of the sunflower on the mug, as you let out a long breath. 

“We literally just-”

“I know,” Matthew cut you off. He stumbled through the next six words, but they stung all the same. “I think this was a mistake.” 

It was as if he picked the words right out of your deepest vault of insecurities, sharpened them, then tossed them in your general direction careless, but still wasn’t surprised when they hit their mark. Your shoulders caved in, your body reacting to the weight of the insecurities you had tied to those words in your mind hitting you in the chest. You set your mug on the counter with shaky hands. 

“Matthew,” you tried to start, but he just set his blue eyes to the ceiling instead of trying to look at you.

You pressed harder, this time, irritation in his inability to communicate with you boiling over, “You can’t just say something like that then not look at me.” 

“Fine.” 

His eyes were dead when they rolled back to yours, lifeless, emotionless, almost completely devoid of the person you knew so well that was usually behind them. He looked nothing like the friend you had for the past two years, nothing like the boy who you kissing on his birthday a few months before this terrible moment you were being forced to inhabit, and nothing like the boyfriend you had since that night. He was unrecognizable from the boy you loved, the set in his jaw unsettling you. Matthew had not come over to have a discussion. You could see that now. He was resolved to end this relationship when he walked through your front door. When Matthew Tkachuk’s mind was made up, you had yet to find anything that could redirect his course. You knew you wouldn’t be the first tonight. 

“I think we can work on this, if you’ll just talk to me about it.” 

The laugh that comes out of his mouth in response to your words made you instantly wish you had never tried. The part of you that had told you to just swallow the breakup he clearly wanted was screaming, “I told you so,” at the top of its lungs. There was no resolution to be had. This relationship was over before he walked in the door, before he walked in the building, before he had gotten in his car. It was over the minute he texted you, curtly informing you he was coming over. Now that your mind was ruminating, the tone of his text felt rough and succinct, like he just wanted to get through it to get to this. 

“I think that there’s nothing to work on,” Matthew told you, his tone flat. “I think we were friends, are friends, good friends, and we just starting having feelings because we thought we couldn’t have each other. That whole forbidden fruit thing, right? And we got all mixed up. Sex was great, is great, don’t get me wrong, that kind of chemistry isn’t the problem, but I just don’t think we’re supposed to be together. I think we just got our wires crossed and mixed the chemistry and the friendship up to mean that we’re in love when I just don’t think we are. At best, I think we just had middle school crushes gone off the rails. I don’t think I really have feelings for you and I don’t think you have them for me either. I think that’s why we fight a lot. There’s nothing really here, in all reality, and I think we can both sense it. You know I’m right. You just don’t want to admit it.”

“Get. Out.” 

You spat the words out with all the venom and anger you felt. It wasn’t until the door shut behind him, not another word spoken in the tense moments it took to cross your kitchen to it, that you felt the pain in your chest. The anger, and the adrenaline that came with it, had disguised it while he was still here. Now, it was just you, in your empty apartment, realizing you not only had to deal with the pieces of yourself left over after Matthew just shattered you, underneath that was the agony of losing a friend. A friend you had come to know so well over coffees and sheet pizzas and margarita pitchers, in parties and houses and parks and arenas. He left with your now ex-boyfriend, because they were one and the same. 

All you had was the now tainted memories of him and an even colder cup of tea.

------

You shuffled around your kitchen island, skipping the tea kettle in favor of your trusty slightly rusty coffee pot. This wasn’t a morning tea could handle. None of the mornings since Matthew told you that, in essence, your entire relationship was built on false pretenses and was doomed to fail from the start, had been tea mornings. They’d all be coffee caliber mornings. 

Just as the coffee started to drip into the pot, your phone lit up on the counter. It was either your mom or another friend checking on you for what had to be the hundredth time. Your friends had be rotating who would check on you and who would bring you food. They were genuinely worried this break up was making you a bit of a recluse. The problem was, the person that had gotten you out of ever breakup funk you had over the past two years, every bad date, every ghosted text, was the person that caused this one. Your mind unwillingly brought you back to a memory you had been trying to avoid for the last four weeks.

There was a knock on your door. You pulled your sweatshirt sleeves over your hands to wipe your nose and eyes. You would have thought that after two weeks, a whole fourteen days, you would have cried everything out by now. Your body apparently had other ideas and was content to continue to produce tears until you felt better. When that would be? Who could say. 

Matthew Tkachuk was trying to have a say about it when he was on the other side of the door you opened. You sighed. You weren’t in the mood for him and his persistence in getting his way.

“I brought donuts, Legally Blonde because my sister said to, and my sparkling personality and I’m not leaving until you smile, eat at least two donuts, and take a shower.” 

He pushed his way into your apartment effortlessly. You didn’t consider yourself particularly weak, but there really wasn’t much you could do against Matthew Tkachuk with his mind made up on his side. He kicked his shoes off on the way to your coffee table, dropping the donuts on it before grabbing the TV remote. 

“I said I brought Legally Blonde. I meant that I brought my intent to watch it with you. We both know I’m just gonna rent it on your TV for you. I don’t own a DVD player and neither do you,” Matthew said to you as he started pulling up the movie. “Also, I have no idea how to log in to my stuff on this thing because you have a Fire TV instead of an Apple TV like a loser, so I’m just going to Venmo you $3.99 for the rental.” 

“Matthew,” you sighed, running a hand through your unwashed hair.

“Yeah, you can’t physically remove me from your couch, so I will not be leaving this apartment,” he informed you. “Watching Legally Blonde on your couch without you and stuffing my face with donuts I’m not supposed to have feels like it would be a pretty low point in my life. Unless you come watch with me and save me from half of these donuts.”

You saved him from half the donuts. He saved your hair from a record eighth day without washing it. You saved him from actually watching the sequel. He saved you from your torturous thought spirals and your tendency to look entirely for mistakes you made and flaws within yourself in lieu of acknowledging that relationships always take two people. He saved you from becoming a recluse that time, pulling you out of your apartment for dinner with him the next day. It was just Chipotle. He said he chose the environment for low social stress, high food volume ratio. You had hit him in the chest and he’d squeezed your hand softly, bringing it up to his mouth to kiss the back of it softly. 

“You know he didn’t deserve you, right?” he told you as you waiting in line. “You can and will do a hell of a lot better than him someday, probably sooner than you think.”

“Thanks, Matty.” 

Looking back on that memory, you couldn’t find any fondness for it. It just made the dull ache in your chest that had become a permanent resident over the last month transform temporarily in a sharp, stabbing one, before returning to its original form. You poured your coffee, each movement it required felt exhausting. You felt absolutely spent constantly because you were spending all of your energy trying to figure out what had gone wrong. Relationships were a two way street, but you could never drive down the other side, only your own. Matthew’s side, his view of it all, would always be foreign to you, but you could analyze every word, every movement, and every piece of Matthew’s reaction to all of your actions to find what you had done, what you had done to contribute to the car wreck that had caused the pain in your chest. Did you veer too close to him? Did you veer too far? What did you do? 

When you get together with a friend, after years of mutual pinning, it’s supposed to work out. Every book, movie, and hell, every other couple you had ever seen that had been great friends first, then started dating, worked out. It always had a happy, romantic comedy kind of ending to it all. Everything was supposed to fall into place the second Matthew kissed you for the first time because friends falling in love felt inevitable in the kind of way that made you believe in predestination, in fated futures. You had come to the conclusion that fate either didn’t exist, or she was a fucking bitch. 

“Come here!” Matthew shouted to you across the party when you were less than two steps into his front door. “I want a birthday hug!”

“I literally just got here!” you shouted back, your voice dropping in volume as you got closer to him, bumping your way through the party to get to him in the kitchen. “You couldn’t wait two minutes for me to like, put your gift down and take off my coat? Needy.” 

“Ah!” Matthew raised a finger to you and shook it slightly. “It’s not needy when I’m the birthday boy. Hug. Now.” 

You rolled your eyes, but tucking yourself willingly into Matthew’s broad chest. He was so warm all the time, but particularly now that he was definitely a few drinks deep and very much enjoying himself here at his party. Matthew always smelled the same, like the slightly too strong laundry detergent scent boosters his mom made him use and spearmint toothpaste. You couldn’t stand the combination at first, but now, pressed into his chest, you felt calm, the stress of the day washing away when you enveloped in him. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the top of your head and gave you an extra squeeze before letting you go. 

“Also, you’re late,” he pointed out as he grabbed you a beer from the sink he’d filled with ice in lieu of people going in his fridge.

You took the beer from him after he slammed the top off on the edge of the counter. You chugged about a quarter of it before scrunching your face up and stopping. The first few sips were always the worst, before any of the wondrous affects of alcohol actually kicked in. 

“Work,” you told him with a shrug.

Matthew rolled his eyes at you, a common occurrence, and you rolled yours back, and even more common occurrence. He laughed a little at your routine, before he tapped his beer suddenly on the top of yours, making foam rise rapidly, overflowing the bottle. You cursed and shifted your hand over the sink so the foam covered his makeshift cooler instead of the counter, but your hand was a lost cause. 

“Matthew,” you groaned, your displeasure heavy in your voice as you shook your hand free of the foam. 

Matthew threw his head back and laughed as you rinsed off your hand. When his head lifted, eyes finding yours again, he was met with a glare and the displeased shaking of your head. He smiled lazily, his blue eyes crossing your face to take in your expression. 

“You’re cute when you’re pretending to be mad.” His words were a little more connected than they should be, his faint lisp expressing itself more, endearing in a way that cut through your annoyance at him. “I would like to request a birthday, ‘One of my best friend isn’t mad at me anymore,’ pass.” 

You rolled your eyes again at him for the second time in minutes, “You’re going to get real annoying with this birthday thing, aren’t you?” 

Matthew smiled wryly at you, “Comes once a year. Feel like I should get my money’s worth for the twenty-four hours I can, no?” 

You shook your head at him, then took a sip of your beer. You were pretty sure you knew how this night was going to go and after a long day at work, it wasn’t exactly what you had been looking for. But the smile on his face, the curls falling down his forehead, and the fact that you were head over heels for him, meant that even though you hadn’t been looking to get on a rollercoaster today, damn it all to hell if you weren’t going to throw your hands in the air, scream your head off, and enjoy the ride. 

“How about,” Matthew slurred slowly at you, “a birthday dance?” 

“You could just ask me to dance. I’m used to you stepping on my toes and elbowing me in the face,” you threw back at him.

He faked pain, like you shot him in the chest, a large hand clapped over his heart as he winced. You giggled at his expression, before your laugh made him laugh. Matthew extended the hand on his chest out to you. You sighed before clapping your hand into his open one and letting him pull you toward where a few people were dancing. He spun you into his chest with a tug on your hand, purposefully putting your hands on the back of his neck. 

“Odds you step on my toes tonight?” 

Your beer bottle tapped between Matthew’s broad shoulders as he slowly started to sway with you, using his hands on your hips, one hand still with two fingers wrapped around his beer, to guide you. He smiled down at you knowingly. You knew the answer to your question before you’d even asked, but Matthew knew you were just teasing him. 

“Oh, one-hundred percent,” Matthew told you with a smirk pulling up the corner of his lips. “I should get you steel toes for your birthday.” 

“If you can remember when it is,” you laughed as Matthew spun you by your hips, your hands breaking from his neck to allow the spin. 

“Don’t doubt me,” Matthew grabbed your wrists with one hand and pulled them against his chest. “I might have had to make it my phone passcode to be sure I don’t forget, but I definitely am not going to forget it.” 

“That might just be the cutest thing you’ve ever done in your life, Tkachuk.” 

He rolled his eyes and freed your hands, only to wrap his arm around your neck and yank you into his chest where your hands had been moments before. You squealed at the action, which only made him laugh. Matthew was a touchy drunk, but it was the closest you could be to him. These were the moments you could touch him, dance with him, and let yourself feel like the world you lived in was also the world in which he had feelings for you too. But you knew those worlds weren’t the same. The would you lived in was a world full of stolen drunken moments like these and unrequited love. 

“Birthday beer?” he asked you, presenting you with the empty bottle you hadn’t realized he’d finished.

“You are really pushing your luck,” you told him. 

The smile that came across his face when you grabbed the empty bottle made your heart beat heavier in your chest. You smiled back up at him and you could have sworn you saw his eyes glance down at your lips, but you shook off the idea like the intrusive thought it was. It was a self-indulgent misreading of him, your mind projecting a motion you wished Matthew had done, instead of accurately reading the moment for what it was. It might have been a false creation of your mind, but it made your chest hurt all the same. 

You grabbed Matthew his beer. Then you birthday grabbed him a slice of his birthday cake. Then you had to birthday dance with him again. Another birthday hug. It started to wear heavy on your shoulders because tonight all Matthew seemed to want was you glued to his side. Your mind was twisting and turning, running down dark, unlit roads you had blocked off in your mind for your own good, but the combination of alcohol and Matthew’s hand on your hip was allowing your mind to blast through barricades you’d built to protect yourself and you were imagining this being real. Worse, you were wondering if maybe he felt like you did, which was as dangerous as driving down a twisty, forest road in the middle of the night, with your highlights out, and faulty breaks. 

As the last guests trickled out of the party, Matthew said you didn’t count as a guest, he collapsed onto his couch, throwing his arm over the back. He motioned over to you as he polished off his remaining beer. He sighed when you had yet to move, letting his head roll back, curling bouncing at the movement. 

“Come on, birthday cuddle,” he whined softly, gesturing you over to him again.

You groaned and hoped off the counter where you had posted up as everyone else left. Matthew smiled and lifted his head up when he saw you coming, adjusting on the couch to give you a clear spot, right under his arm, right against his side. You climbed onto the couch and slid in, dropping your head onto his chest as his arm dropped around your upper back instead of remaining on the couch. You sighed as you snuggled into his broad chest and Matthew’s chest suddenly rattled beneath you as he laughed.

“Well, make yourself comfortable then,” he laughed softly. 

“You’re comfy and I’m tired,” you mumbled, tucking your face down to try and hide the flush rising in your cheeks.

Yes, you were tired. Yes, Matthew was pretty comfortable. Neither one of those things had anything to do with why you were thrilled to be snuggled into his chest. The smell of spearmint and laundry detergent was mixed with cheap beer, but you found yourself falling more into him, your shoulders relaxing, your mind slowly, but your heart racing. You might be pushing your luck, tipping your hand with how you were openly enjoying this, but Matthew’s hand playing with the ends of your hair and the steadiness of his breathing plus the sheer volume of alcohol he had consumed tonight was giving you hope that even if you were tipping your hand, he wouldn’t be able to recognize the cards. 

“Come here. Birthday hug.” 

“I’m literally snuggling you. Why do you want a hug? Snuggling is an extended hug,” you muttered to him. 

“Hug,” Matthew repeated, a hand patting his thigh. 

You groaned as you lifted your head from your comfortable spot, twisting awkwardly to get your arms around Matthew’s neck. He huffed, clearly not thrilled with your position. His hands found your waist, fingers sliding into your belt loops to pull you onto his lap, situating your legs on either side of his. He wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you tight against him, hugging you to his chest. His face was tucked into your neck, his hot breath fanning out over your skin, leaving goosebumps in their wake. 

He mumbled something you couldn’t entirely hear, but you caught the word birthday again and rolled your eyes. You sighed as you pulled back, his arms giving way to let you sit up on his thighs. 

“What did you say?” you asked him softly. 

Matthew swallowed hard, his eyes darting away from your attempted eye contact. His jaw clenched, nerves getting the better of him. You just didn’t know what he had to be particularly nervous about. 

“I want a birthday kiss.”

His words were soft, vulnerability keeping his voice tense, but his volume low. His eyes lifted up, scanning over your face, looking for some sign as to how you received his words. Matthew moved a hand to the back of your neck and gently pulled, ever so slightly, to bring your mouth closer to his. His eyes continued to take in your face, trying to read your expression, but he was clueless, his own feelings clouding his judgment. His tongue darted out, swiping across his bottom lip. 

“You don’t have to, obviously, but fuck, I really hope you want to, ” he breathed out, eyes still trying to find some sign, something to hang onto in your face.

It was clumsy with excitement, but you dipped your head forward and pressed your lips against his. Your heart was beating loudly in your ears as he started to kiss you back, the sound blocking out everything except how you were finally doing this, you were finally kissing Matthew. All you could feel was him, his hands on your body, his lips on yours, his tongue working yours softly. Just him. You pulled back and resting your forehead against his as his fingers tangled themselves in your hair at the back of your neck. 

“Thank god,” Matthew mumbled. “I thought I ruined us for a second there.” 

You shook your head softly and smiled down at him, pressing a quick kiss to his lips again. He was smiling before you even pulled away this time. 

“Fastest my birthday wish has ever come true in my life,” Matthew told you softly, a smile wide on his face as he spoke. “Also, my best birthday wish ever, if I do say so myself.” 

“Wait, what did you wish for?” you laughed, letting a hand run down his chest lightly. 

“You,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I wished for you.”

Everything after that was easy, for a little while. You both had dreamed, fantasized about having each other, so you were both in absolute bliss when everything came together. It felt like two pieces in a puzzle, finally finding each other after being separated by the expanse of the unfinished masterpiece in between if the masterpiece was the world as far as both of you knew. But you never found your place in it together, never locked into the bigger picture. Two pieces floating out in space can’t stay connected forever when hands start trying to smash them into place, hands that wonder if those pieces even belong together at all. 

The hands that ripped you and Matthew apart weren’t from the outside looking in though. They were the same hands that held your hips so tightly on nights between the sheets. The same hands that held yours where you walked through the city after a few too many drinks at the bar together. The same hands that ran through your hair softly when you came over crying about something you couldn’t even remember anymore. 

They were the same hands currently wrapped around a glass at a bar across town. The boy, not man, whose hands they were was running one through his hair hurriedly now. He couldn’t get you out of his mind and he just couldn’t figure out why. 

“Okay, why did you break up with her again?” Johnny pressed Matthew for what had to have been the twentieth time over the last month. “Because you’re fucking miserable all the time. She’s fucking miserable. None of us can get her out of her apartment. So I’m just not getting this one, man. Why aren’t you at her place right now? Why weren’t you there a month ago really, begging for her to take you back?”

Matthew groaned and screwed his eyes shut hard. He had explained this so many times, the words and memories were starting to blur together for him. If you say the same word too many times in a row, your brain begins to question if what you’re saying if even real anymore. Matthew felt the same type of confusion and disassociation with recounting his reasons for breaking up with you. The version of him that had original thought those thoughts, felt those feelings, wasn’t here anymore. It was replaced with a shell of a boy who realized he’d made a terrible mistake. 

“Wait, have you seen her?” 

Johnny rolled his eyes at Matthew, but he answered anyway. 

“No, I didn’t,” he sighed, motioning to the bartender for another beer. “A couple of the girlfriends stopped by, brought her some casseroles or something.” 

“Don’t you bring casseroles when someone dies?” 

Matthew forced the terrible joke and his own laugh in response out, in a poor attempt to disguise the ache in his chest at the thought of you. He could see you so clearly in his mind, pacing holes in the floorboards of your apartment, wearing out your favorite mug, but there was no way on God’s green earth you were wearing your Flames sweatshirt you usually did when you were upset. Hell, Matthew would be amazed if you hadn’t burned it after what he done. He knew you had to hate the casseroles, both based on the fact that you barely considered them an edible type of food, and the fact that they seemed to be an homage to the funeral of your love life. You would’ve made a better joke than him too and he wished he could’ve heard it, but you probably hadn’t made one. Matthew was the person who helped you out of the negative thought spirals that sent you spinning around your apartment. He caused this one instead and he was here, sitting in a bar, doing nothing about it because there was no way you’d even talk to him again, not with what he said.

“I just,” Matthew sighed again and fussed with his beer, lining and unlining it up with the condensation ring on the coaster as he talked, “I got too into my head. We were fighting. It just, it wasn’t good, Johnny.”

“It wasn’t good or you weren’t good?” Johnny pressed, watching carefully as Matthew’s body froze in response to the question, glass frozen mid-movement, eyes fixed on a broken neon sign in front of him. “Chucky, you don’t do anything unless you already know you can do it. You’ve never been in a relationship as an, I don’t want to say adult because that’s not entirely true, but as an adult, so you probably sucked at it.” 

Matthew rolled his eyes before throwing back verbally at him, “Thanks, Johnny. Loving this pep talk. I’ll make sure when Gio retires, you get my recommendation for the C.”

“We both know exactly,” Johnny tapped Matthew on the forearm, “where that C is going next and don’t even lie. But that’s neither here or there right now. The point is that she was your girlfriend. You were supposed to talk to her about being a shitty boyfriend.” 

“I am not in the mood for this,” Matthew groaned, dropping his head to the bar, recoiling when his skin stuck to it, his face scrunching up in disgust. 

“I mean, Johnny’s right,” said Monahan as he slipped up next to Matthew’s other side, making a second groan slide from Matthew’s throat. “You were supposed to talk to her, not break up with her like a dumbass. She was your friend first. She knew you weren’t perfect and that she’s have to put up with some shit because you definitely don’t know the first thing about being someone’s partner. She went all in with you anyway,” 

“Decided the person you could be and the person she could be with you was worth it,” Johnny jumped back in. 

“Good one, Johnny,” Sean nodded appreciatively, tapping his beer bottle against Johnny’s across the bar in front of Matthew. “She gave you a chance, a hell of a good chance. And you decided to throw it all away? Because you fought?”

“Who the fuck are you right now?” Matthew cursed at Sean. “Where did you find all this girl advice, huh? If I wanted this, I would’ve asked your girlfriend.” 

“Fianceé excuse you,” Sean reminded him, a smile pulling at his lips. “She relayed all of this back to me. She saw her a few days ago. This is all straight from the source, man.” 

“Wait, she said that stuff?” Matthew choked a little on his beer. 

“Yeah, she did. Wanna know what else she said?” Sean didn’t give Matthew time, much like Matthew gave you no time during that conversation a month ago, no regard to if Matthew could handle what he was about to say. “She said you weren’t good at communicating or being a boyfriend, but she was okay with it because she loved you. All she wanted was effort. Just a little effort from you, man. And you just left instead of trying.” 

Your words, albeit coming through the probably clumsy filter of Sean, stung in Matthew’s chest. He felt like a coward, a fraud. He tried so hard to be tough, to be the guy that kept pushing, kept grinding, kept giving a shit even when his team was down three goals with five to play. He was the guy everyone counted on to try, even when everything else was screaming to just give up and accept defeat. That’s what he’d done with you. He gave up when the waves of trials started coming, when a storm kicked up. Matthew had taken one look at a swell coming that looked to be the type that could swallow ships whole, took the lifeboat, and ran without a second thought. He left you on a battered boat, full of holes, without even a bucket to bail yourself out. 

To make matters worse, the wave he had been so scared of was either entirely a fabrication of his own mind and he had run from his own twisted imagination. Or worse, he had created the wave himself and ran before it could catch up to him. 

It was catching up to him now though, sitting at a dive bar in Calgary, a warm beer in his hand, and the weight of what he had done sitting heavy on his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” was all he could say.

“Your dream girl, really.” Johnny was twisting the knife now, but Matthew knew he deserved it when Johnny added, “And you fucked it.” 

“Yeah,” Matthew laughed softly, but the sound didn’t reach his eyes that were still staring at a broken and sputtering neon sign, but really seeing something that wasn’t there. 

He was seeing you, in that pretty sundress, the one with the sunflowers on it that Matthew loved on you because you always looked so happy whenever you wore it. Countless memories of you in that dress. You wore it out with friends, the second time Matthew had ever met you. That’s the first time he remembered thinking just how pretty you were, the way your hair fell down on your shoulders, the way your smile formed, the way your nose crinkled when you laughed. Matthew was used to thinking girls where hot, but you? You were beautiful, standing there, laughing at something Johnny had said, in that sunflower sundress. 

He remembered that dress from the first time he almost kissed you, a month later, walking down the street together after dinner, his hoodie around your shoulders because you had gotten cold and Matthew was always warm. It was the first time you wore his clothes and it made Matthew’s heart beat loudly in his ears, so loud he couldn’t hear anything else, couldn’t think about anything else, but kissing you. He almost went for it, but then you pulled him back to reality, actually pulled him out of the street he hadn’t noticed he stepped into because he couldn’t hear the cars over his heartbeat. 

That dress starred in his memories of your first date that occurred a week after his birthday, the one where he finally kissed you for the first time, over two years after the first time he almost kissed you. It might have been January in Calgary, but there was that dress again, with tights and a thick coat and knee high boots and socks and a little hole at the bottom hem and it made Matthew want to die. If he died staring at you in that dress, kissing you in that dress, he was pretty sure he would be fine with whatever his obituary looked like. 

Except that dress and all the memories of it were tainted because you had been wearing it when he broke your heart, when he watched you break apart and shatter, all of his own doing. Hell, he probably tainted sunflowers as a whole for you. He’d gotten you so many over the few months you’d been together, even though they had cost far too much money since sunflowers in Calgary in the winter weren’t exactly commonplace. The necklace for your birthday, a sunflower and his number in delicate gold, his sister’s idea. 

Matthew wondered if people could hate certain types of flowers for the same type of reasons people loved them. People loved them because of how they looked and smelled, but also the memories associated with them. His mom loved pink tulips, but was it more because she always had or because his father always bought them for her and now she couldn’t look at them without thinking of his dad and all the times he has surprised her with them? Was the existing love or the associated love the more powerful factor in her love of them? 

Either way, Matthew was just hoping you didn’t hate sunflowers anymore because of him. 

“How do I fix it?”

Matthew’s voice was soft, barely above a whisper now, his hand tense around his glass. Matthew had too many thoughts running through his head, but he needed to make sure you didn’t hate sunflowers now. He just didn’t know how to even get you to talk to him to find out if you did. 

Johnny and Sean looked at each other and Johnny sighed when the silent communication resulted in him being the one to answer. “I don’t think you can, Chucky.”

“No, I have to, I have to fix it, Johnny,” Matthew’s voice cracked. “I just, I have to make sure...”

He didn’t finish the thought because it wouldn’t make sense and they would both probably send him home, thinking he was either too drunk or having a breakdown, more likely both, if he started ranting about sunflowers. 

“I think all you can do is reach out,” Johnny told him softly. “Just let her know that you now realize you made a massive mistake, that you want to be a team this time and work on it, I guess. From there, it’s up to her.”

“Should I bring flowers?” Matthew was asking the universe more than either of the two not so romantics next to him. “Chocolates? Something? Is there anything I can bring or do to fix it?” 

“I don’t think you can fix it, dude,” Sean cut in with a sigh. “You can’t force it. if she even talks to you, she’s going to have to decide you’re worth a second shot and knowing her, she’s not going to just give it to you tonight or tomorrow or whatever. She’s going to want to see real change first. You just tell her that you’re going to try and then fucking try, even if she doesn’t ask you to try. Start working on yourself anyway. Start acting like she’ll give you a second shot.”

“Do you think she will?” 

Matthew’s voice echoed how it sounded earlier, timid, small, a whispered prayer from a boy who knew his only hope was if fate heard him and decided to twist the world in his favor, if fate wasn’t a fucking bitch after all. 

“I mean,” Sean sighed, thinking about himself now, trying to shove his feet into Matthew’s water-logged shoes for a moment to find an answer, “if I was her, I wouldn’t. But she’s a better person than all of us put together, so maybe she will, but I know I wouldn’t.” 

Matthew let out a long, shaky breath, eyes fluttering closed for a moment before opening them to pick his phone off the bar. He knew you wouldn’t answer a phone call. He also knew your voicemail was definitely full at this point. He was always the person who had to tell you to delete the old ones whenever he tried to leave you one and couldn’t, but he wasn’t there to do it, so it would be full by now. He had to settle for a text, which felt like a much shittier version of a handwritten letter, but he had terrible handwriting and spelling, but at least it ranked well above an email in the power ranking of methods of communication. 

Please tell me you don’t hate sunflowers because of me. I really hope I didn’t ruin them for you.

Matthew placed his phone face down on the bar, then nervously flipped it face up even though he knew you wouldn’t have even been able to read his text in the millisecond his phone was face down. He didn’t know if you would answer, or if you would even read it. You would read it, Matthew assured himself. He knew you. You never got a text or a message you didn’t read. Would you say anything to him about it though? Would it be on your phone, nested among texts from people who didn’t break your heart until one day, probably a year from now, you would meet someone else and have no need to remember him anymore, so only then would you finally delete it?

Matthew tried not to think about it, but his eyes glanced down at the screen every thirty seconds even though he was willing them to just give you time. He didn’t even realize it was past one in the morning. You were definitely up, he knew you better than to think you would be asleep, but awake and awake and answering texts were different. He just hoped if you were awake, that you didn’t hate sunflowers, maybe that you didn’t hate him, and that you weren’t crying. 

You were awake though, holding that godforsaken necklace that you had ripped from your neck the morning after he ended it and thrown into the back of your jewelry box. The necklace was in one hand and your phone with Matthew’s text pulled up in the other. You were crying, something Matthew desperately wished you weren’t doing as he drank the last dregs of his beer and headed home with his head hung low, his phone alight in his hand as he ritually checked for a reply from you. You sighed, looking between his text and the necklace, wondering if you hated your favorite flower now. That question hung on another one though, one domino relying on the other to fall. Did you hate Matthew Tkachuk? 

Yes, you did. That was decided the moment the door closed behind him and he left you to deal with the crashing waves of grief all by yourself, without even a bucket to bail you out.  

Did you hate him more than you loved him though? 

You stared at the necklace, the one you hadn’t been able to throw away, and you knew the answer. The delicate golden necklace would be buried deep in a landfill if you really hated him more than you loved him, not in the palm of your hand now. But here you were, staring at it until your eyes went cloudy with tears, before you had to put it back in the box. You couldn’t put it back on, not now, maybe not ever, but you also couldn’t bear getting rid of it, the idea making your heart twist in your chest in a way that made you physically wince. 

You put your phone on your nightstand at the same moment Matthew did across town, both with your minds racing over the unanswered text. Matthew went to bed thinking you would never answer it, forever leaving the question hanging in the wind. You went to bed knowing your answer, but unsure if you were ever going to share it with him. 

------

Matthew groaned when he heard his doorbell ring, followed by cautious knocking. He hated that doorbell. The noise was absolutely piercing, especially to his hungover brain. He hadn’t even drank that much last night, but he was so incredibly hungover. Matthew could only guess that the alcohol had worked in tandem with the ache in his chest after deciding he needed to feel worse to create a hangover this bad from five beers over three hours. He shuffled to the front door, not even caring he hadn’t bothered to find any clothes other than sweats on his way to it. Whoever it was was too goddamn early and they would need to come back another time. 

When Matthew ripped open his front door, a groan falling from his mouth at the effort it took, he was looking at the ceiling, head thrown back in hatred of the exhaustion he was now feeling due to having to actually do something other than lay in bed and be hungover.

“Look, this building better be on fire or-”

Everything stopped when he saw it was you. You looked so small to him, standing there, a tray with two coffees in hand and a brown bag in your other hand. Your sweatshirt was swallowing you up and you looked like you were strongly debating making a break for the stairwell with the way your eyes were shifting to the right. There were dark circles under your reddened, swollen eyes, eyes that only looked like that when you had been doing a lot of crying recently. 

Matthew thought you would have a lot of possible reactions to his text. He never once let himself think you would show up at his front door. 

“I brought bagels,” you finally said, after far too long of both of you assessing the other. 

Matthew looked almost as bad as you did. His hair was unkempt beyond normal, the curls broken and haphazard across his head, hanging into his forehead. His eyes were sunken and absent, vacant like a forgotten home on the outskirts of town. Days old stubble patchily covered his jawline, razor clearly lost among his things again. If you weren’t at his apartment, if you had just passed him on the street instead, you might not have recognized him. There was always a lightness to Matthew, an inability to keep his feet on the ground as he searched for the next adventure he could have, but he seemed rooted in place, held down by some outside force. He was complying with it, the force, but it was clearly under duress and it was exhausting him. The force was absolute agony and it was written all over his face, in his posture, in his every labored movement. 

“And coffee,” you added after no words left Matthew’s mouth long enough for an uncomfortable silence to stretch between you both. 

“You’re here,” Matthew breathed out, words spoke so softly as if he feared if he said them too loudly, you would disappear. 

Matthew’s head was pounding. His mouth tasted awful since he went straight to bed when he got home, not even stopping to brush his teeth. He knew he looked like an absolute mess because there wasn’t a way a person could feel like he did and not look like a mess. He didn’t care about any of it. You were here. You were actually here, with coffee, and bagels, at his front door. 

He didn’t think. He knew it was a mistake after the fact, really as soon as he did it, but he also knew there was a chance you were here just for personal closure, that this might be the last time he ever got to see you again. He reached out and grabbed you by your waist, crushing you into his bare chest. His face pressed into your hair, which always smelled like strawberries to him even though you swore your shampoo wasn’t supposed to smell like strawberries. If you never talked to him again after today, he just wanted to hold you one more time. 

You hugged him back, hesitation evident in your loose arms and your tense shoulders. It was barely a hug, but it almost made Matthew cry. Even just the small response, no matter how cautious it was, made him feel better than he had felt in a month. 

“Go brush your teeth and like, actually wake up,” you told him as you pulled away from him. “I’ll, um, toast the bagels, I guess.” 

Matthew was on autopilot as he walked into his en suite and grabbed his toothbrush. His movements were slow, robotic as he brushed his teeth. There was only one thing on his mind, replaying over and over incessantly, persistently. Why did you show up at his place? Matthew was desperately trying to turn the broken record playing his mind over to the other side, hoping to find the answer, but it was only more of the same. There was no reason, no reason he could understand, why you had shown up at his front door. Why you had shown up with coffee and breakfast for him was so far outside of the realm of things Matthew could understand, he had to eliminate it from his mind. 

Until it all suddenly clicked in place, Sean’s words from last night flowing back into his mind. 

You were here because you were a better person than he was, a far better person. Sean had said you were better than all of them, very much including Matthew, put together and it was true. You were bright and beautiful and good, so incredibly good. You loved people with an honesty and a bravery that made Matthew’s heart ache due to the effort it had to put in to keep up with you when he’d been smart enough to accept your love. You were so much better than he was four months ago when you kissed at his birthday party, so much better than the bedraggled boy looking back at him in the mirror today, and somehow infinitely better than the person he was going to be in fifty years, already. Who you would be in fifty years? You were going to be the kind of person that needed a designated overflow zone at your funeral because too many people were going to want to acknowledge they’d felt your love in front of hundreds of others. 

Matthew never deserved the piece of you he’d gotten. He knew that now as he heard you humming softly to yourself as you dropped the bagels in his toaster. Matthew had never deserved you and it’s why he had ended it because he’d known all along. He knew you were fighting because he wasn’t good enough for you and that he never would be. He would have spent his life running at top speed behind you, trying not to slow you down, trying not to be a drag on your life, trying not to lessen the impact for good you could have on the world. You would have never let him go, slowing yourself, stunting yourself in order to accommodate him.

But here you were, looping the train of your life to run back through the temporary station of your relationship with him that was in complete shambles, and Matthew let himself dream it was because you were ready to hold his hand and fix it up brick by brick, piece by piece because you were so good it hurt. Matthew knew the right thing to do would be to make sure your train left the station today, unencumbered by any damage from him, and more importantly, without him. But Matthew Tkachuk was three things that made that impossible. He was competitive, problematically so, always wanting to get better, always wanting to win. Damn it all to hell if he couldn’t spend the rest of his life running to keep up with you because one day, he just might actually catch up if he could figure out how to run fast enough. Matthew Tkachuk was also incredibly selfish and incredibly in love with you, one a personality flaw and the other the purest part of him that had ever existed. He had to figure out how to catch up because he couldn’t let you go.

Matthew stepped out of the bathroom with resolve settling into his clenched jaw. He knew asking you to take him back without any proof he could improve was a hopeless avenue. He couldn’t ask you for that; him asking for anything was already unfair, he needed to try to at least ask for the least he could. Any plan he had formed was tossed out the window of his high rise the second he saw you, sweatshirt hanging off your shoulder, hair piled on top of your head, humming softly to yourself as you spread cream cheese on his and your bagels, barefoot in his kitchen. For a moment, that moment Matthew held his breath so you wouldn’t hear him standing in the kitchen doorway, it was like the last month hadn’t happened and you were still his. Matthew hung in the moment as long as his lungs would allow, soaking it in case he never got to see it again. 

“You going to keep staring or are you going to come get your bagel?” 

Your words pulled him out of his thoughts violently, head shaking off the ideas that had been swirling, pulling him down that whirlpool of you and him that might just kill him. He yanked the nearest bar stool out, dropping down into it unceremoniously, before graciously taking the bagel and the coffee you’d brought for him. 

“Why did you ask me that?” you finally said, words slicing like knives through the palpable tension in the air. “The sunflowers. Why that? After a whole month? That?” 

You said a few extra words then you’d meant to say. You were trying to keep everything short and brief, just here in a quest for the peace you needed and nothing more. More words meant more feelings and more feelings meant the idea of peace slipped further away with each expressed word. 

“I just,” Matthew ran a hand aggressively through his curls before starting over, “I just wanted to make sure that after everything I did, I didn’t ruin one of your favorite things for you.” 

You sighed, debating if you wanted get into this or not with him. What could it hurt? It was just a story.

“I like them because my mom does,” you told him softly. “She always had them growing by our house when I was little. She always had them in a vase by the front door, and she had these sunflower earrings, these little golden ones. They’d kind of like the necklace-” 

Your fingers touched the bare skin where the necklace he gave you had sat until a month ago, fingers finding nothing to touch to. Matthew’s eyes had followed your movement, saddening when he saw you weren’t wearing it even though he hadn’t expected you to be. 

You cleared your throat before continuing, “Anyway, she lost them a while ago. But I guess they just remind me of home. That’s why I got that dress. I got it when I first moved here. I saw it walking around downtown in a window and just took it as a sign that everything was going to be alright, you know?”

Matthew nodded softly as he continued to listen and mindless pick at his bagel. 

“And then when we started dating and you figured out they were my favorite flowers and started getting me dozens of them all the time, I guess you and us started creeping in as part of those reasons I love them. It kind of sucks because they make me sad now and I can’t wear that dress anymore.”

The words were tumbling out of your mouth now, practically on top of each other. You weren’t sure where you’re going, but more words meant more expressed and acknowledged feelings and you were saying a lot of words. Matthew was trying to keep up, trying to take time to process and read between the lines. You always said so much whenever you spoke, half of it jammed in between sentences in pregnant pauses and shifting eyes. He was trying to take it all in, trying to figure out how you were actually feeling, but you weren’t resting in any one emotion long enough for Matthew to identify it. 

“But no,” you sighed. “I don’t hate sunflowers. They’re sadder now. It used to just be missing home, but now they make me miss us. But I don’t hate them. I don’t think you can fully hate something that reminds you of so many people and places and times that you loved. I don’t hate them because I don’t hate you, Matty.” 

He didn’t ruin one of your favorite things for you and you didn’t hate him. In full honesty, Matthew didn’t think you hated him. He knew one of your flaws, but also your best quality, the one that made Matthew feel so lucky to have been with you, was your capacity for love. It got you in trouble sometimes, kept you with people you shouldn’t have been, made you believe in fake friends’ false pretenses, but it also the only reason you didn’t hate him now and the only possible reason you would ever accept any sort of olive branch Matthew could clumsily extend. 

“I fucked up,” Matthew said suddenly. He wasn’t thinking, wasn’t filtering. He should have taken his time, picked his words carefully, but it was you and you didn’t hate him and Matthew was painfully awful at this sort of thing and he was overwhelmed with the idea he might just have an opening back into the warmth that was you. “I’m so fucking sorry. I totally get if you can’t trust me again. I know I’m a shit boyfriend. But fuck, I love you. I know I do. I’m just so bad at showing it. I want to fix that. I want to fix it with you. I want you and I want to show you I’m not a fuck up and that I do love you. I won’t need a second chance ever again, just some patience. Please.”

Matthew let out a long, shaky breath when the final begging word left his lips. He knew he’d been pleading with you with each and every word, hoping something he could say might hit you in just the right away, might have just the right effect to get the result he so desperately craved. You. Back in his arms. Back in his bed. Back in his jersey at his games. Back with him, where he wanted you more than he had wanted anything in an embarrassingly long time. 

“Is any of that even true?”

Your question stopped Matthew in his tracks. It felt like a punch to his chest, right over his already aching heart. How could you doubt that? No, Matthew knew how you could doubt it. You could doubt it because you could doubt every single thing about him if you damn well pleased. He deserved every bit of doubt and caution you presented. He had broken you because he refused to take his seat at the adults’ table and talk about how he felt, how he was feeling insecure, how he felt like a bad partner, and how he felt worse about all of that because he felt like he couldn’t fix any of it. He attributed the two of you not working out to you two not being a match, instead of acknowledging his own flaws and what they were doing to both of you. In retrospect, all of that probably would have been far better to say to you than what he had actually said, but words couldn’t be stuffed back in his mouth. They were now in your mind, in your memory, and Matthew would just have to live with another mistake on the laundry list of things he had done wrong regarding you.

“Every single word is true,” Matthew told you softly. “I have so many other ones too, if you want to hear them.” 

You breathed out hard, shoving the air forcefully out of your lungs as you ran a hand through your hair, “You don’t get to say those kinds of things to me, Matthew. You don’t have the right to that.” 

“I know,” Matthew grimaced in reaction to your words.

He should’ve held his tongue, but he had so much he needed to say to you. But there he was again. Thinking about himself, only himself. He wasn’t considering you, wasn’t communicating with you. He just vomited all of his thoughts and feelings up without even bothering to see if you were actually open to receiving them. Saying you didn’t hate him didn’t even correlate to being open to the conversation Matthew had forced into your hands, unaware he had even pried your fists open to put it there. 

“I shouldn’t have forced that all on you,” Matthew admitted softly. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. I just, I have so much I want to say to you.” 

“Matthew,” you sighed. You had been doing a lot of sighing lately. “I don’t think-”

“I don’t want you to take me back,” Matthew cut you off. “At least, not right away. I don’t deserve that. I know that. I’m not asking for that.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest, eyes scanning over his face to try and figured out where he was going. You thought he would ask you to take him back, something you weren’t going to do without a sign from him that it would actually be different this time instead of exactly the same, with a shorter honeymoon period. Another two months with him, only to suffer the same heartbreak wasn’t enough time to make you take a blind chance it would be different. You needed something to hang your hat on, something to make you feel like he wanted to be your partner this time around. You needed to see him try, try in the long nights apart, try in the close nights together, try in the afternoon dates, and try in the stolen morning moments. You needed to see Matthew try and be your partner, and not just some emotional, freeloading friend with benefits version of a boyfriend who would spin you around a dance floor, then into his bed, then leave whenever you asked for more.

“Then what are you asking for?” 

Your words were quieter than you expected, confusion ringing heavy in each syllable. Matthew ran a hand through his hair, frustration evident in how his fingers tugged on his curls at the end. He didn’t really know what he wanted. He just wanted a shot to prove to you he was worth your time, that he could be the partner you deserved. He wasn’t even sure he could be, which was part of the reason he was struggling to speak to you now, feeling like he was trying to row up a rushing creek made of his current feelings and his past failures without any sort of paddle or even a life vest, about to drown at any possible second.

“I just, I want to show you that I’m worth a real shot again.” Matthew was begging now, figuring that if you said no, at least you would know how badly he wanted you. He couldn’t get more pathetic than asking you if he’d ruined your favorite flowers because it had somehow said everything without saying anything at all. “Just, let me be around, let me earn a second chance. Let me show you I’m trying, trying to get better, trying to communicate better, trying to be someone who is good enough to deserve half of you. Let me show you I can try and that I’ll keep on trying forever, if that’s what you want from me. If you want to watch me try for five fucking years before giving me another shot, that’s fine. If you want to watch me try to five fucking years and then not give me another shot, that’s fine, at least I spent five years trying for someone who is so goddamn worth it, it hurts.” 

“So, you want what exactly?” you pressed, a defensive laugh edging at your voice. “You want to just, what? To be around all the time? To be together all of the time? That’s just being friends, Matthew, and you were always a great friend, but you were a shitty fucking boyfriend. You want to spend all day with me, showing me that you’re trying to be better, then do whatever you want when you’re not around me?” 

“No, I, fuck,” Matthew groaned, hands digging into his hair, head dropping to the cold granite counter in dismay at the mess he had made. 

“Here’s your first communication test then,” you told him, letting the passive aggressive biting words you held at the back of your tongue roll off the front of it instead. “Tell me what you mean.”

“I don’t want anyone else.” Matthew banged his forehead on the counter with each word, frustration getting the better of him now. “I don’t even think this is going to make sense, but let me be your boyfriend even though you won’t be my girlfriend. That sounds so fucking stupid now that I said it out loud, but I guess I’m just trying to say I’m going to be one hundred-percent, all gas no brakes, full throttle about you and trying to actually change for you and show you I’m changing, but you can do whatever you damn well please because even letting me try is a fuck load more than I deserve.” 

Matthew let out a breath to try and steady himself before continuing, “I know I’m still asking for a lot, both of your time and of your ability to at least sort of try to look at me not like the guy who said all of that shit a month ago. But I promise, I’ll be worth it. You do whatever you want, no strings, no jealousy, nothing. Let me be around and prove I’m worth a real second shot, please. You can send me packing whenever you want and I won’t bother you. You’re just too fucking incredible for me not to ask to try, even though I don’t have any right to ask.” 

You breathed out hard, forcing all of the air out of your lungs. Matthew was asking, begging, for an opportunity to prove himself, to prove he could do what you wanted all along, just for him to try. Standing in his kitchen, bare feet cold on his hard wood floor, the idea of giving him that opportunity made your heart pick up in your chest, but made pain radiate through it at the same time. The romantic in you, the part of you that wondered if maybe Matthew Tkachuk was actually worth it, the part of you that loved sunflowers even though the memories attached to them were so incredibly mixed now, wanted to give him a chance. The other part of you, an equal part of you, was screaming, demanding that you be protective of yourself, of your happiness, from the people you let into your life, especially ones who had already proven then had no problem burning the life you were building for yourself and leaving before the ashes started to fall. 

But did you even have a happiness you needed to protect? If you didn’t, then the answer was simple. If there was nothing to protect, there was extremely limited risk. You were already in a variation of hell of his own creation, sponsored by the feeling of someone you love deciding you weren’t worth an ounce of effort. What could it do to you if he failed? It would just affirm what you already experienced as a perennial fact instead of a potentially annual moment. 

But the romantic inside pushed back, hard. Would you always wonder what would have happened if you gave him a chance? Would you always carry a torch for him? Would there always be an empty room, with a light left on, for him, in the house of the life you ended up making for yourself? 

Romanticism versus realism. That was the question at hand. You knew both sides of the argument, the angel and devil on your shoulder both just facets of you, screaming at each other, both trying to decide what was best for you. They were just extensions of you though, so if you didn’t know, they didn’t know. But you did know two things though. 

You knew you still loved sunflowers and you still loved Matthew Tkachuk. 

And that was enough to convince you punch him a round-trip, one month ticket on the train of your every moving, ever developing life. You would be directing the path, choosing which tracks you would take, making all the moves, and he would have to figure out how to be your co-director. You weren’t going to stop or simplify anything for him. You were just going to continue on. In a month, the train would loop back to the station and you would decide to punch him another ticket, offer him the seat next to you, or leave him stranded there, alone at a run down train station probably in the pouring rain like in all the movies, before he would leave and watch as the station crumbled to dust upon his exit along with the idea of you and him. 

“Okay.” 

You settled into your answer as you gave it, trying to get it to settle over your body in a way that made you feel warmer rather than colder. Matthew’s eyes were staring into yours and he looked like he was teetering on the edge of crying, like he wanted to tell you everything that single thing that word made him feel, but he bit his lip and held his tongue. He was listening instead of talking, a welcome change, a welcome first attempt. 

“You get one month,” you told him, your voice shaking as you tried to force it to be level. “One month of being around, I guess we can call it that. You figure out how you want to prove it to me. I’m not here to help you out. You hurt me. This is me, unlocking the front door for you. You have to figure out how to open it all on your own, okay? After a month, I guess we can talk and see where we’re at.” 

“Thank you,” is all Matthew can figure out how to say for a moment. One month to try and show you he was worth another maybe, or if he let himself dream for a second, one month until you might want to be with him again. “I’d take anything, so thank you.” 

“Take your fucking breakfast,” you smiled softly, trying to break the tension as much as one joke can. “And your coffee is cold now but that’s going to be a you problem.” 

“Is your coffee cold?” Matthew asked you. He just wanted to fix something, even something as small as a too cold cup of coffee. “I can fix it.” 

“Well, it’s iced coffee,” you informed him, a genuine laugh in your voice this time as you reached behind you to grab your drink on the opposite counter, giving the cup a little shake, ice rattling, as you showed it to him. “So, I sure hope you’re not going to try and warm it up.” 

“No, no,” Matthew laughed softly, hands fiddling with the collar on his now room temperature at best coffee. “Probably should’ve asked what you were drinking first.” 

You nodded softly, “Your heart was in the right place.” 

Matthew smiled softly as you and your heart picked up in your chest again. God, that smile. It cut through everything, through the dull ache in your chest, through the deafening noise in your head of your own thoughts, and hit you right in the room in your heart that was reserved for him. It was vacant now, but the lights shone brighter for a moment and the furniture in the basement that used to be in there for him rattled, drawers and cabinet doors smashing, a reminder that everything you felt for him was still there. It might be covered in drop clothes and an inch of dust, but it was there. Part of you was already ready for him, but it wasn’t most of you. Maybe one day it would be. Or maybe this was one of the worst things you’d allowed in a long time under the impression that he simply couldn’t make things worse for you, which was almost a challenge to that fucking bitch fate at this point. Your insecurity and shaky foundation got the best of you for a moment and a sentence like a child’s prayer slipped out of your mouth. 

“Matthew, please don’t waste my time.” 

“I won’t,” Matthew’s words followed yours without a second of hesitation. “I promise. I won’t.” 

The romantic in you hoped he was right, that this would be worth how difficult it would be, how difficult it would be to look at him over and over again with his past words playing like a broken record stuck on a broken record player in your mind. If he truly did try, then enduring the torturous reminder of the past would be more than worth it because you were pretty certain that if Matthew Tkachuk could figure out how to be everything you knew he could be, he would be the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. But could he get there? You didn’t know, but sometimes people take risks, people bend until they almost break in search of love, like sunflowers bend towards the sunlight, in search of a new and brighter day.

------

You woke up the next day after breakfast at Matthew’s, after ducking out for a planned series of activities, lunch with a friend, and errands to run. You had tried to fill your day after Matthew’s to give yourself an out if it went poorly and a break from Matthew to process everything if it turned out positive. Part of you was wondering if what had happened was really positive or not, but you felt better today than you had over the last month, able to get out of bed and get the coffee pot started with too much extra effort. The bags under your eyes looked better than they had in weeks.

A knock on your front door, eerily reminiscent of the one you’d delivered on Matthew’s door the day before, brought you and your freshly poured cup of coffee in hand to the door. You opened the door and were greeted with an unfamiliar face with a very familiar expression, one far too cheery for the hour in the day. The smile plastered on her face didn’t falter as she read your name and address off her list to confirm who you were and that she was in the right place. You nodded as confirmation, which just made her smile impossibly wider. 

“Great! These are for you then!” 

Her voice was somehow worse than the fact that she was downright euphoric before nine in the morning. No one who could be this excited about life before nine could be trusted. She practically shoved a bouquet into your hands, turned on her heels, then seemed to skip down the hallway and out of your building. You shook your head as if to shake off the memory of the world’s cheeriest delivery person from your mind, before turning back into your apartment, kicking the door closed on your way to the kitchen table. 

Of course, they were sunflowers. Matthew’s consistency with flowers was never in doubt. You grabbed the card, smiling at the words printed on the small card.

If you don’t hate sunflowers yet, give me a month. You’re going to get so many, you’ll be sick of them. Lunch today? - Matty

You tapped the card in your hand, taking deep steady breathes as you walked over to the counter where your phone was. You were really doing this. You were really giving him a chance to show you he could be better than your downright awful four months full of casual disagreements, fights, and near constant miscommunication had shown you. There were people in your life you didn’t think would approve. No, you knew they wouldn’t approve. That’s why you hadn’t told a single soul about yesterday, but this wasn’t about anyone else. It wasn’t about the opinions they would be bound to have. It wasn’t about what they thought was best. This was you and Matthew and everything that was still there. It wasn’t for other people; relationships never were. 

You texted him, accepting his invitation for lunch. He texted back immediately even though it was way too early for him usually. If Matthew had practice at ten, he wasn’t out of bed until a quarter past nine and he lived fifteen minutes from the arena. Your mind wondered if he had been awake, just waiting for your text, but you pushed the thought of side as you headed to take a shower. He wouldn’t get up before nine unless his building was on fire. 

Across town, a curly-haired boy who had woken up two hours earlier than he usually did, just to see if the girl he loved had gotten her sunflowers, smiled when he saw her text.

She had gotten them, thankfully. Matthew got to go to practice with a smile on his face, wondering how she’d smiled when she had seen the flowers arrive, and with the knowledge he’d get to see her smile in person after practice. Well, if he played his cards right, he’d probably be able to con a smile or two out of her. He felt damn near giddy, like a kid at a county fair who had too much cotton candy and who has just accidentally won the biggest prize the fair had to offer, even though he hadn’t even come close to winning you back yet. Getting to be around you again was his win, and it was so much more than he thought he would ever get, he could feel like a little kid for the morning if he wanted to.

He could and did feel like a little kid the entire time he waived for you at the restaurant. Matthew arrived fifteen minutes early. Being late had been his specialty the first time around, not necessarily a problem often within itself, but compounded upon everything else Matthew didn’t do then, a list that seemed to grow longer the more he picked apart the past from your point of view, showing up early carried more weight. The shock on your face when you saw him already waiting at the table when the hostess brought you around was proof enough that every effort Matthew made, every single thing he took notice of from the past and changed, would make a difference. 

“Hey, how was practice?” you said as you dropped down into the seat opposite him. 

Matthew had the smallest sliver of hope that the sunflower dress would have reappeared, but he knew he didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve to see you look like you had when he had gotten the opportunity to take you out the first time, to do this right the first time. If he hadn’t screwed everything up with his stubbornness and his general inability to be a boyfriend, he wouldn’t be wishing for that dress right now. He could be in your apartment, holding you, face in your neck, arms around your waist, decompressing from practice and life in general. But he was here, sitting four feet apart, in the middle of a restaurant, knowing he wouldn’t even get to hold your hand on the walk to his car later because you hadn’t even driven together. 

“Um, practice was good,” Matthew told you, his mind still running through a seemingly endless list of things he could be doing with you right now if he hadn’t given up before ever really getting in the game. “How was your morning?”

“Good. Didn’t do much since I didn’t have work.” 

Matthew nodded, taking a sip of his water before doing what he would need to do over and over again, if he really did want to get the chance to love you to you again. He tried again.

“So, um, how’s your mom doing?” Matthew asked, hands trying to find a resting spot on the table, his lap, somewhere.

“Fine.”

The distance across the table felt wider with each passing second to Matthew, like you were somehow slipping further away from him with each clipped answer you gave. It was painfully obvious that the sunflowers had only gotten you to show up. The magic of them had worn off the second you sat face to face with him and had to claw through all of the emotional shrapnel that was heavy in your chest and in your mind that Matthew had caused to sit across a table from him. Just sitting across the table from him, all you had was your past with him on your mind. You had too much time to think, to remember. Matthew needed to find some way to overcome it, to make you see the him from the present and not the past when you looked at him. It wasn’t going to happen in this restaurant with nothing but time for you to get hopelessly lost in the past.

“Okay, nope,” Matthew sighed, tossing his napkin and menu onto the table. “We’re not doing lunch here.”

“You picked it,” your brows furrowed down in confusion as Matthew stood from the table. “Do you not like see anything you like?” 

“I see you,” Matthew slid in with a playful smile on his face and just for a moment, you remembered why it had been so easy to fall for him what felt like a lifetime ago. “But no, this just isn’t working. Let’s get out of here.” 

Matthew threw far too much money on the table considering the only thing you had ordered was water, but he felt bad for wasting the wait staff’s time, and started putting on his coat. You slowly rose from your seat to do the same, confusion pulling your brows together. A patented Matthew Tkachuk date was a meal and that was pretty much it. A change of venue mid-date? Multi part dates? Definitely not in his wheelhouse. Especially when you considered you hadn’t even ordered an appetizer yet.

“Where are we going?” you asked him as he gestured for you to lead the two of you out of the restaurant. 

“Honestly,” Matthew sighed as he pulled the door open for you, waiting for both of you to exit before continuing, “I don’t really have a plan. That just felt stuffy? Weird? I don’t know. It didn’t feel like us.” 

“What does us feel like, Matthew?” you sighed, tucking your hair behind your ear, a nervous habit that would never die and never stop making Matthew want to die since he thought it was the cutest thing he’d ever seen, every single time. 

“I know what it used to feel like when it was good,” he told you. “We could talk for hours about anything. We used to be able to anyway. I know it might be awhile before we can do that again, but that wasn’t like the good parts of us and you know it.”

You sighed again, something you knew you would probably be doing a lot as you tried to give Matthew the space to just try, but the part of you, a large part of you, the part couldn’t stand not being the line leader in kindergarten, was screaming at you to do something, anything. Kiss him, which would have been the worst idea you might have ever had, slap him, also not advisable, get in your car and leave, not a great suggestion either. Just something, anything other than just standing in the street, looking at him and remembering how much it all hurt, how much it hurt to love someone who always seemed to have one foot firmly planted somewhere that wasn’t with you.

“Come on. I know a better place,” Matthew told you, pulling you out of your spiraling thoughts before you could fall too deep into them.

It took everything in him not to offer you his hand. He was pretty sure holding your hand might make him cry, which wouldn’t be the best look for him, but he was pretty sure it would feel like heaven. But no pearly gates were going to open for him today. He’d have to settle for standing next to you with the knowledge that maybe heaven did exist after all.

You walked side by side with him as he weaved through the streets of downtown, staying close, but far enough apart so you couldn’t accidentally brush his hand with yours. You stayed in step with him into a nearby coffee shop, the warmer more comfortable atmosphere already sinking into you and Matthew, loosening your shoulders, the tension softening. The restaurant had been cold somehow, harsh, and considering your love for him was pretty frozen in permafrost, this was much better. 

“They supposedly, according to Benny, have the best blueberry scones in the city,” Matthew said softly.

“You know me,” you smiled softly. 

“Love a good baked good.” 

You and Matthew spoke in unison, bringing a laugh over both of you, tension continuing to loosen with each passing moment. Matthew asked you what you wanted and ordered for you, mostly so he could pay without hearing a fight from you about how you didn’t need him to pay for you. You sat down with your scone and your coffee at a table Matthew dwarfed, but he didn’t seem to mind too much as he looked at you. 

“So, take two,” he joked. “Is this better by the way? You just didn’t seem happy at all there. It seems like this is more your speed.” 

To say you were stunned that he was actually checking on you, trying to tune into your emotions, would be an understatement. He had showed up early and was asking about how you felt, genuinely. His blue eyes, long standing one of your favorite features of his, bounced across your face, trying to take in every micro expression before you could even answer the question.

“Yeah, Matty,” the older nickname sliding out, “this is better.” 

“Okay, good,” he smiled softly and this one made its way to his eyes, crinkling them at the corners. 

He asked you about work, desperate to catch up on the office drama he had missed. You asked for updates on the team, the things the media would never and could never find out about. He asked about your mom again and you actually told him. Sliding back into old ways, it didn’t feel like your relationship in the coffee shop. It felt like your old friendship. The world felt like it felt when you fell in love with him in secret originally. Matthew was actively listening to you the entire time, something he deeply struggled with because did he ever have the tendency to talk too much, but he was trying. He apologized for cutting you off once to tell his own story and you almost got whiplash when he sank back into his chair and verbally gave you the floor. He was making space for you, fully and honestly, and trying to appreciate you inhabiting the space he was making for you in the conversation and in his life. He talked too much, but there was a peace he found in listening to the best person he had ever had the privilege of knowing tell him stories, tell him about her life like she wanted to give him part of it and god, did he ever want part of your life. 

Matthew went home that day and was damn near clinical about the whole thing, breaking apart everything he could remember about how you reacted to what he said, what you seemed to appreciate and what you didn’t. He treated his memories of it all like game tape, reviewing what he considered to be a win after a rough first period showing, looking to areas of success and areas of possible improvement and man, he was finding a lot of areas to improve. He kept getting stuck on your smile, the few true ones in the coffee shop, where you looked like the girl he fell in love with instead of the hollow one he created with his own words. Matthew let himself sit with those moments for a couple of steady breaths. You were worth the effort, he reminded himself again. You were. 

The next morning you were thankfully already milling about, halfway through your coffee and halfway through getting dressed when the knock came to your front door. You had a suspicion based on the knock which somehow itself was cheery that you were going to open the door to the same delivery person as yesterday. There she was when your door swung open, ponytail swinging, smile tattooed on her face, unable to fall. This time though, she shoved a bouquet of a dozen red roses into your hands, much to your confusion. You almost asked her if she’d given you the wrong flowers, but she had already vanished who you looked up from the flowers, off to curse the next person with her cheeriness. 

When you placed them on your side table next to your sofa, the spot on the kitchen table still inhabited by the sunflowers from the day before, you at least knew she’d given you the right bouquet. 

Can’t always get you sunflowers, sweetheart. Got to keep you on your toes. :) - Matty

You immediately pulled your phone out of your pajamas pants pocket and shot off the first thing that crossed your mind to him. 

Variety is NOT the spice of life, Tkachuk. Stick to the status quo.

You got a text back shortly after exchanging your comfortable pajama bottoms for the confines of work appropriate pants. You checked your phone seven times on your walk to your car, feeling like a version of yourself you thought you left behind in middle school. You had dealt with unrequited feelings for Matthew so long, fell in love with him in secret, that when you had the chance to love him out loud, you jumped at it and so did he. It might have been the only time you had ever been completely on the same page together. Before that, you had been fast friends, falling into friendship without any effort really by either of you. This was something else. Matthew Tkachuk was putting in more effort than you saw him put into anything besides his career. The effort was making you feel like you should be back in a plaid skirt, shoving a binder into your locker, and whispering about the cute curly-haired boy from your science class, a kid with a crush who had no idea what was yet to come.

But you could only wish you had no idea of what was to come. It had already come, running you over faster than you could ask, your heart shattering under Matthew’s feet due to his carelessness. One sentence from the speech he so carelessly used to break your heart felt like this moment. At best, I think we just had middle school crushes gone off the rails. The amount of times you had fallen in and out of crushes in middle school was too high to even attempt to count. Was what you were feeling just a recurrence, a temporary realignment of the train on the tracks? Was Matthew putting in all this effort for fleeting feelings? Was he right this whole time? 

------

Matthew Tkachuk was working against himself with you, fighting the mess he’d made of you and him a month ago. He created the situation that made you build the walls he was trying to surmount with an army of sunflowers and his poor excuse for love. Matthew was good at a few things, hockey, being a pest, and creating chaos. Righting the chaos he made had never been a task that was asked of him before and now, three days after that first day in the coffee shop, he was struggling to figure out where to go from here. He wanted to make the right decision, systematically work through the heartbreak he’d caused, taking leaps each time he saw you until maybe he’d be close enough to wrap you up in his arms and never let you go again. He might have to settle for a baby step today though since you were at work, slammed with a new project from your boss, with no time to see him

He sent you lunch at work instead, from your favorite burger place you always went together. You swore you could have cried when you realized he included both sweet potato fries and regular fries, your mind pulled back to the first time you went together, back when you were just friends. 

“Should I get the sweet potato fries or regular?” you asked him. 

“Get the sweet potato ones,” Matthew told you, running a hand to push his curls out of his face. “You always get regular fries and complain about how you should’ve gotten sweet potato whenever we all go out to eat together.” 

You agreed with his suggestion, letting the conversation fall comfortably back over the two of you as you waited for your food. You hadn’t even realized time had passed when the waitress dropped off your food. Spending time with Matthew melted away stress and your perception of the passage of time, letting you live in the moment, unencumbered by the stressful comings and goings of your day to day life. 

The sweet potato fries had been a good choice. They had a honey drizzle on them and you were more than pleased with your selection. But Matthew’s regular potato fries appeared to have some sort of special seasoning on them and you were itching to try one, but Matthew wasn’t big on sharing in general, let alone when it came to food. He saw you staring at them and groaned. 

“You’re the worst,” but he flipped his plate around so the fries faced you anyway. “Don’t say I never do things for you.”

“You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, Tkachuk.” 

You frequented that same burger joint with him throughout the years of your friendship that came after, and during your short relationship. The burgers you ordered changed, but never the fries. You got sweet potato. Matthew got regular. He let you steal as many of his as you wanted without a single complaint sliding between his lips despite dozens of repeat visits to the restaurant.

In your office, holding a container of sweet potato fries and a container of regular in opposite hands, you thought it was a little ridiculous that french fries were making tears well up in your eyes. He hadn’t forgotten. You shook your head to shake off the desperate thoughts that were swirling, the ones that were tying emotional weight to french fries of all things, and shot him off a quick text to thank him for lunch before getting wrapped back up in your day. You didn’t see his reply text until you had already kicked your heels off at home too many hours later. 

Would never forget to get my girl her whole meal :) 

Sometimes, love wasn’t big gestures. Oftentimes, it wasn’t even gestures that would make much sense to relay to other people. Two kinds of french fries wasn’t something you could explain to anyone else because it would just seem childish, but you felt cared for. Above all, you felt remembered when you’d opened that bag. You felt like Matthew Tkachuk had seen you almost two years ago in a restaurant and remembered exactly who you were in that moment and still knew who you were today. The french fries would go untold to anyone else, but they made you smile more than the roses on your coffee table when you fell asleep that night. 

The next month felt like it happened all at once. There were enough sunflowers to create your own you-pick patch of them, rose and tulips and whatever other kinds of flowers Matthew knew the names of interspersed, just to keep you on your toes. Movies nights at his place, complete with half-burnt, half-unpopped popcorn courtesy of Matthew’s non-existent culinary skills. Nights out, full of laughter and storytelling that made you feel like nothing had ever changed, like you had flipped over an extra month in the calendar, skipping one entirely, the month you’d been apart, and moved on without it. He felt like your friend again, something that had lapsed when you’d started dating. You both tried so hard, arguably too hard, to change your relationship into a romantic one that you didn’t leave space for friendship, booting it out without anything solid to fulfill its previously occupied space. The relationship collapsed without a solid core, the frail coverings of romance too heavy for the hollow center to bear. 

Matthew wasn’t perfect by any stretch of the imagination. He still talked over you, parts of his brain running faster than others. He still forgot to talk to you on road trips sometimes. He still forgot your sister’s birthday. He still resisted emotional responses from you, physically pulling back and trying to dodge conversations that would bring discomfort. The gestures were there, hundreds of them in the form of your favorite flowers, but was it enough? Did you truly believe you two were hand in hand, putting the train station of your relationship back together, or was this just an attractive paint job hiding the cracks for a few months until they became exposed again because of time? Was the effort a permanent fixture? Or was it just a passing small town station that Matthew had created to attract you, pulling you into town with the promise of nice accommodations and restaurants always being available, only to abandon them as soon as the train left the station and your life got on without you, leaving you stranded, trapped in a small forgotten town forever?

As you walked into your favorite coffee shop, you cut the line, heading right to the front like you had become accustomed to doing. Matthew had called your order in and paid for it over the phone every work day before you got there since that first day after he sent you lunch. He knew what time you usually got to your favorite shop, and worked it out with the staff that they had your order ready for you now like clockwork every day. You had been able to gain twenty minutes of sleep from it, but you were wondering now if this would all stop if you took him back or not. Really, the coffee order ceasing would be more than fine. Love wasn’t in monetary gestures like this one technically was, but what else would disappear with it? Would Matthew trying to verbally and physically make space for you in his life disappear too? Would him genuinely trying to, even if it’s hard and he’s pretty shitty at it, understand your emotions fade away? Would all the effort fragment into sporadic moments, slowly growing further and further apart until they stopped happening all together and you wasted years of your life giving Matthew Tkachuk your love and not getting enough back? 

You didn’t know the answer, which is why you were thrilled you were having dinner with some of your closest, non-Matthew related friends after work. You had been keeping Matthew a bit of a secret. Actually, a complete secret. You knew your friends wouldn’t approve at the start, so you hadn’t told them a thing. They would have told you he didn’t deserve any semblance of a second shot, that the things he had said in the past could never be overwritten by future good actions, that you weren’t supposed to give people who break your heart second chances. But now, you were at a crossroads. 

You could give Matthew more time, maintain the status quo until inevitably your heart gave out. You could open your arms to love him again, knowing full well that you would never be one hundred percent sure or not. You could brush him aside, thanking him for his temporary effort that would never be enough for you. Three clear options left you further from a solution than you thought possible. You needed advice. You needed opinions from people who only had stake in you in this relationship. You needed to be more selfish than you knew how to be, so you were passing the task off to your friends. 

While they were usually quick to pass judgment, they were silent as you went through every painstaking detail of your past month, starting with that fated text about sunflowers, through every dinner, every movie, every moment until the text you got before you sat down in this chair at dinner with them. You were exhausted by the time you got through everything, emotionally and verbally spent, feeling no closer to your answer. You had hoped retelling everything would pull you in one direction or the other, with no such luck. Your friends, however, weren’t undecided in the slightest. 

“So, you’re ending this experiment, right?” 

You were shocked, almost spitting out your drink at the harshness of the words that spilled out of your best friend’s mouth. She shrugged off your shocked expression. 

“I mean, it was a nice experiment, I guess, but a total waste of your time,” another friend added. “There isn’t any way to prove this is a permanent change and I, for one, will never tell you to take that kind of a risk. You’re too good to put up with a guy who very well could end up not being worth it.” 

Your friends were talking a mile a minute, all at you, but really at each other in their bubble of agreement, agreement that Matthew Tkachuk was not worth your time. He could buy you flowers, coffee, as many lunches as he wanted to. He could make promises about listening and trying and making an effort, but he was on trial during it all. He was under a performance review. It was a manufactured situation as far as they were all concerned, entirely unrepresentative of who he would be outside of it. When there wasn’t a close date, a date he could begin to slack off again according to your friends, and you demanded engagement and effort from him every single day without any relief from that pressure, he would fail. He would fail every single time. 

How had you not seen that? You created a situation with a time limit, a window in time he would have to be a different person than he was, with a definitive end date. Was anything he had done representative of actual change, or was it just a temporary side step towards being closer to what you needed, only to return back to his original spot when you took him back? There was no way to know if anything he had done over the last month was real or some elaborate farce.

The farce, this charade of a month, it swept the both of you up with returning feelings of seemingly endless longing from when you loved each other in secret. You were pretty sure Matthew had gotten swept up right along with you by the fantasy of fate and love being something unbreakable that would always pull people back together. This effort wasn’t real, even if Matthew believed it was. It was all part of some twisted game fate was playing by telling the both of you that you were meant to be. Two puzzle pieces that aren’t supposed to go together don’t go together, even if one tries to bend their corners until they can. Matthew thought he was cutting corners off, not just bending them, making permanent changes to fit with you, but it would never matter. The picture the two pieces that were you and Matthew created together would never be correct. You were shades of blue, like the sky on a Sunday morning as you remembered it as a child full of wonder, like the ocean, powerful and unstoppable. Matthew was red, like the deepest tones of a fading sunset, like the feeling of sitting by a fireplace on Christmas morning. Both pieces individually were beautiful and important to the larger picture, but they didn’t belong anywhere near each other. There were no transition colors. It was blue and red, black and white. They couldn’t mix. They just had to fit. And you two just didn’t fit. You didn't create a picture together. It was just two pieces trying desperately to create something you couldn't because red was your favorite color and blue was Matthew's and fate was a fucking bitch.

You were crying as you walked into your apartment building and pulled out your phone. You typed out a text that echoed one you’d received two months ago without even meaning to do it. 

We need to talk. Come over? 

It was identical to the one Matthew had sent before he set all of this in motion and you were about to mirror him even more closely. Before he came over, you had to have your words collected. You knew he would push back, try and argue that your friends didn’t know the two of you, that they didn’t know what you both felt. But feelings were fickle and often told lies and it was telling you and Matthew the same one right now, that this would work if you tried hard enough even though it would just hurt a thousand times worse when the lie became undeniable six months down the road. 

You almost didn’t notice the small package on your doorstep, eyes too clouded with tears to successfully unlock your door on the first three tries. You snatched it off the doorstep, a sob breaking through your chest when you realized it was from Matthew, no address on the package, just your name scribbled on the top in his horrendous handwriting. He had dropped this off himself and somehow that made it all feel more heartbreaking in your chest. You shuffled inside, the fourth attempt being the charm today, and tore into the package as you kicked the door shut behind you. The wrapping was even his handiwork, too much tape, not enough but somehow too much paper, and you were ruining it with tears dripping on and staining the paper. 

You sat down on the floor, back against your front door. The lid of the box slid off easily and you tossed it aside. You were greeted with a picture of your mother, one you had framed on your front table, mere feet from where you had collapsed on the floor. It was your favorite picture of her, something you had definitely told and retold to Matthew one too many times. You flipped it over in search of some reason for it’s inclusion, finding more of Matthew’s handwriting on the back. 

Hey sunflower, 

Hope work was good today :) If it wasn’t, I’m sorry and call me and we’ll talk about it. They switched our flights around for this roadie so I’m on a plane right now, but I wanted you to have these before I left. 

You told me your mom was a big part of the reason you loved sunflowers and that she had these sunflower earrings you loved growing up, but that they were lost. I saw your mom was wearing them in this picture, so I took it to a jeweler and well, they aren’t the ones your mom wore, but I hope you like them anyway. 

I know you probably aren’t ready to hear it from me, feel free to skip to the end if you aren’t, but I love you and the past month has made me realize just how much I do and how stupid I was in the past. I’m going to keep trying to get a little better every single day and maybe, if I try hard enough, I might become someone who deserves you. 

- Matty  

Your hands shook as you slowly set the picture on the ground next to you and pulled back the tissue paper. Nestled safely in the box were two golden sunflower earrings, delicate golden wire bending to make up their shape. They were identical to the pair your mother had worn almost every single day of every summer of your childhood. Except these were yours. And they were made for you by a boy who loved you who was trying really hard to become a man who loved you and deserved to be loved back by you.

Suddenly, it didn’t matter. Your judgmental friends didn’t matter. Your negative thought spirals that tried to ruin everything good you ever had that was risky because the best things in life were always inherently risky didn’t matter. Fate and whether or not she was on your side or not didn’t matter. Matthew Tkachuk mattered. His effort was real and raw and pure and the most beautiful thing anyone had ever done for you and it mattered. And all Matthew needed for all of his effort to matter was exactly one single act of effort from you. It would have to be a continuous act, a constantly, daily task, but all he needed was your patience with him. And as you sat on the floor, tears staining your cheeks, holding a pair of sunflower earrings you knew Matthew Tkachuk was worth your patience, that he was worth your love, and that you didn’t hate sunflowers at all, not even a little bit.

People weren’t puzzle pieces. You and Matthew Tkachuk didn’t fit together seamlessly to create one image because that’s not how people work. Puzzle pieces are stagnant, fixed, unchangeable. People are supposed to flex and grow and change, be mutable over time, with contact from others. You were blue now, but there was no reason to say throughout your life, from touching other people and their beautiful lives, that you would always be the same shade of blue you were now. Tomorrow, maybe you’d meet the most yellow person you had ever met in your life, and you’d be a little more green for it. Matthew Tkachuk was red and just maybe, purple was supposed to be your favorite color. 

You pulled out your phone and deleted six words and two punctuation marks you had typed walking into your apartment building, but never sent. You replaced that text with a picture of the earrings in your lap, and simple red heart emoji because you knew words would fail you and any words that came to you, you wanted to say to his face when he got back from his trip. He texted you back almost instantly, just a simple red heart emoji. Matthew had started the red hearts. When you were friends, he’d send every other color except red. But when when you started dating, he would send a red heart whenever he wanted to kiss you but couldn’t, when he was on the road and wouldn’t see you for a while, when he was across the table from you at dinner with his parents. It was one of your little quirks, little things that neither of you had forgotten, an old habit that never worked its way out of your behavior. You didn’t send red hearts to anyone else anymore, and neither did he. But you sent one to him now. 

Matthew Tkachuk sat on a plane that night, wishing he could driven across town fast enough to deserve to get pulled over and kissed you instead of sending you a stupid fucking emoji. He fell asleep that night, letting himself remember what it felt like to kiss you, something he had kept in the back of his mind for the last month because the thought of never being able to do it again made his knees pull up into his chest to try and block off pain that was unfortunately coming from inside himself. But tonight, tonight he let himself remember it, let himself pretend that you were thinking of the same thing, let himself remember what it was all like with you because you wanted to kiss him too. He fell asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in months and woke up the next morning with it too, still thinking about you and getting back home to you to finally get to kiss you again. 

------

Matthew didn’t even think twice when his feet touched the tarmac a few days and two road wins later. He knew where he needed to go. He got to his car and tossed his tie into the passenger seat before starting to drive way too fast to your apartment. He didn’t hit a single red light, which made him think about fate again for a brief moment, but then he remembered this wasn’t about her or anyone else. Everything was just about you, you and your love affair with big yellow flowers and hopefully, him again. He took the stairs two at a time after parking incredibly poorly in front of your apartment, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to kiss his best friend, the girl whose heart he broke, the girl that somehow didn’t hate him or sunflowers, the girl that just might love his undeserving self in spite of it all. 

He barely got two knocks on your front door before you yanked it open and Matthew could swear he wanted to die. There you were, a lightness in your eyes he hadn’t seen for months returned to you. Your hair was pulled back, the earrings he had made for you on display. His eyes drifted down, taking in the familiar golden chain around your neck, the one that had been missing for two months now, the one that held a small sunflower and the number nineteen at its base. But Matthew Tkachuk swore his heart almost gave out when he saw the familiar white neckline of that damn sunflower dress. You hadn’t worn it in the past two months, unable to take it out of your closet without crying, but you put it on today and it made you smile. 

“Hi,” he breathed out. 

Driving over with the intent to kiss you was as far as he’d gotten and you in that sunflower dress was making it impossible to think of anything other than that one word he had managed to say.

“Hi,” you breathed back, a genuine smile pulling up the corners of your mouth.

Matthew cleared his throat, letting his eyes close for a second so maybe he could try and think about something other than how you looked right now. He let his head fall back, taking in a deep breath, giving his head a shake in a vain attempt to shake off some nervousness from his mind to clear his thoughts. It worked well enough so one thought could slip through as he let his head fall forward and opened his eyes into your gaze again.

“Do I, um, get another month?” Matthew asked you, his voice timid and frail, on the edge of breaking. “Today is a month.” 

You looked up at him, eyes taking him in. The parting of his lips, the happiness that finally reached his beautiful blue eyes, the curls falling on his forehead, the wrinkled game day suit sans tie that you knew was probably crumpled in the passenger seat of his car. He was on a tightrope, ready to fall to either side with your answer. One side was absolute heartbreak, the kind he was pretty sure would taint the concept of love for him for most of this life, and the other was joy and love and happiness and everything he ever wanted. He was ready to fall with your words, giving you all the control to push him to one side or the other. 

“No, Matthew,” you told him softly.

Matthew’s face started to fall instantly and he felt like his heart dropped into his stomach where his own body started to eat away at it immediately. The dress, the earrings, the red heart, everything, he thought he had finally broken through to you. More than that, he had thought he finally was loving you in a way you wanted, in a way that you deserved. He thought he finally had enough of the pieces of what you needed, wanted, and liked together in himself to be someone you wanted to give your love to. He knew a month wasn’t a lot of time, but he’d loved for over two years now. He loved you as a friend. He loved you when he thought there were only unrequited feelings. He loved you when he was your lover. He loved you when he broke your heart out of sheer stupidity, when he thought fighting meant you would never work together, that somehow he was wrong to love you. He loved you the entire month he didn’t see you. He loved you this past month he spent desperately trying to show you he could love you through actions, not just in his own head and chest, that he could love you like a partner, like you deserved to be loved. 

“You don’t get another month,” you continued, each syllable twisting the knife deeper into Matthew’s chest. “You don’t get another month because you don’t have anything else to prove to me, Matthew.” 

Matthew willed his eyes to find yours again, hoping the hope that had just alit itself in his chest wasn’t misguided. You were calm, your eyes steady, keeping contact with his. Matthew almost dared to feel reassured for a moment, like maybe the hope he felt when you said he had nothing left to prove was correct. But if he was wrong, which he so often was in general, but especially with emotions, yours in particular, it would just serve as an additional twist of the knife. When it was already in so deep, did it really matter anymore? 

“You’re not on trial. No more tests,” you said to him, letting your love for him you had tried to store away pour out. “I want you, Matthew. I want you and me. I want to see if purple is my favorite color.” 

The purple part was beyond Matthew and he made a mental note to ask you about it in a minute, but he needed to kiss you right now. He reached out and you leaned into his touch for the first time in a long time. His hands cupped your face and you rocked up on your toes as he pressed his lips to yours. Your hands came up to rest on his chest as he kissed you so softly, tenderly. He wanted to crush you into him, but that wasn’t what this moment was. This was hopefully the end of the longest period of his life he’d ever have to go without kissing you again. He wasn’t going to rush this, his second chance with the girl who loved him for some reason and sunflowers for much more obvious reasons. 

Matthew was slow as he pulled away and tilted his head down to rest his forehead against yours. One of his thumbs shifted to ghost over your lips, his blue eyes staring into yours, but really past your eyes, and into you, seeing you better than anyone else did. He loved you without the rose colored glasses. He saw you and loved you, it had just taken him almost too long to figure out how to show it. It had almost taken him too long to figure out that love wasn’t just something you could feel and ride the feelings to bliss. Love was daily effort, trying and retrying and sometimes he would fail, but it was constantly showing up anyway. Love was hard, but holding your face in his hands, he knew you were worth the effort he planned on putting in every single day for the rest of his life. 

“I love you, sunflower,” Matthew whispered, the words left raw and unpolished by how real the feelings he injected into them were. 

“I love you too.”

[sidespart]

For the fic title thing: Make Up Your Mind/Catch Me I’m Falling

Make Up Your Mind (this seriously got away from me and became basically a whole string of conscious fic whoops)

Logince, Bakery/coffeeshop AU Mutual Pining/ Not-Actually-Unrequited love, + loceit friendship

So Janus owns a Bakery (struggling to think of a snake/lie based bread pun for the name but ehh). He is the head only baker and sends most of his time in the basement kitchen blasting the phantom of the opera soundtrack and kneading dough. 

Logan is his childhood friend. Janus hired him as cashier after Logan dropped out of collage but then he never left and is now basically manager/ accountant/ hbic of this whole operation.

So one night as Janus is leaving he’s casually like: ‘oh by the way, a couple are coming by tomorrow for a wedding cake consultation’

And Logan blocks the door and is like: ‘Janus. We don’t do wedding cakes. We don’t even do cake. You only make weird artisanal bread. it took me 6 months and 8 powerpoint presentations to convince you to sell banana loaf’

Jan, his eye enormous: ‘but Logan, you should have heard this guy on the phone. They only want to use LGBTQ businesses for their wedding, they want to support the community that’s supported them for so long. He spoke so passionately and eloquently about why it just had to be us I couldn't say no’

Logan, his eyes not enormous: did you tell this man we make wedding cakes just to make the phone conversation end?

Janus: I was going to miss the murder, she wrote marathon, Logan 

So Jan manages to escape, and Logan rolls his eyes but like. This is nowhere near the worst ‘cleaning up after Janus lied to get out of a situation and made everything more complicated for no goddamm reason’ incident that he has had to deal with during the course of their friendship so, whatever: he can tell the couple there was a miscommunication when they show up in the morning. 

Next day, the guys arrive. Virgil, who barley introduces himself and then stays hunched in his hoodie not speaking for the whole meeting, and Roman. 

Roman does not have a problem speaking. Roman has lots of ideas.

Roman has a binder. 

Somehow in the course of this conversation Logan goes from ‘we don’t make wedding cakes’ to ‘I’LL SHOW YOU, WE’LL MAKE THE BEST GODDAMM WEDDING CAKE THIS TOWN HAS EVER SEEN’

Maybe it was the passion of Romans argument. Maybe it was the slightly disdainful look on his face when he looked round the shop. Maybe it was the ridiculous amount of money he was prepared to pay (see: Janus insists on only making specific, weird bread as to why the shop’s always on the brink of collapse). Maybe it was the power of the binder (Logan is like 80% sure Roman hit him with the binder at one point). Maybe its just Logan hasn't had a full blown passionate argument like that since high school debate club and the rush of adrenaline made him dumb.

Whatever the reason - they’re now fully committed to making this 6 tier, purple and blue, Disney inspired, multiflavoured wedding cake

(Janus, who skipped out on the meeting because he is Like That: But Logan....we don’t make wedding cakes...this was really irresponsible of you...

 Logan: I know where you sleep. I could kill you at any time) 

Which would be doable (the weddings a while off, and Logan is ready to RESEARCH) except Roman keeps. Coming. Back. 

With new ideas. And tweaks. And suggestions. All of them seemingly designed to make the cake less structurally sound. 

Basically every time he comes in they end up having a blazing row, first about Romans inability to make up his mind about the cake and then about...literally everything. One time they spent 25 minuets arguing about whether or not Shakespeare wrote all of his plays, which somehow turns into ‘who was the best host of blues clues?’ which then turned  into ‘how would nationalised healthcare best be implemented?’ (the loudest arguments were during the blues clues section).Logan had even fewer customers then normal that day.

(Logan: I hate that guy so much! He shows up at 2pm every day and now my blood pressure has started going up at 1.55pm in anticipation of the fight! He’s causing me actual medical distress because he’s so stupid!

Janus:...you’ve memorised some guys schedule and your heart starts racing whenever you see him?

Logan: yes! because he is my enemy!

Janus:...

Janus: mmKay.)

ANYway, one day Roman turns up and is like: Can’t fight today. Need caffeine. Must Study. and sequesters himself on one of their two rinky dink tables and starts pulling enormous textbooks out of his bag. Turns out Roman is in law school, he’s back home for the whole summer to help with wedding prep and has been neglecting his summer reading. He wants to be an environmental lawyer and, ideally, singly handily prosecute every oil company and give a speech at the UN whilst wearing an immaculately fitted Italian suit. 

Logan has a panicked moment of OH NO HE’S SMART (he doesn't need an oh no he’s hot moment because Roman’s been hot the whole time). Very carefully he does not think about how upset hearing Roman mention the wedding again made him feel, and then shares a bit about his own anxiety during college which led to him dropping out.

Roman says degree or no degree its obvious Logan is one of the smartest, most capable people Romans ever met.

Cue: blushing, stammering, Logan standing up to quickly and knocking half a pot of coffee over etc etc all that good fluff. 

And after that their conversations are less confrontational (although they still debate like. everything.) and more friendly.

They have one (1) more conversation about the wedding wherein Roman apologises for being so stressed and snappy over all the preparation stuff but he just wants everything to be perfect for Virgil. (Logan, awkwardly: you must love him a lot. Roman, himbo-ly: Yeah!) aaand then Logan changes the subject to the best rhyming structure because Romans big sappy grin is making his heart do awful twisty things-

And eventually, Roman asks Logan to go out with him outside the bakery.

Logan: hahaha this is friendship, we are great friends, we are going out as friends. I am not going on a date with a man with a fiancé because that would be the actions of a crazy person.

 So they go on their date. It’s amazing. Roman leans in for a kiss at the end and Logan is delighted!

And then devastated.

He pushes Roman away, yells some creative insult (malodorous centurion?) and flees. Spends the next week basically hiding in the kitchen area, refusing to see any customers and working on the wedding cake.

(which is looking perfect by the way)

So after a week of Logan moping round the kitchen Janus finally blocks the door to stop him leaving and demand he tells him what the hell is wrong. And after a few minuets of filibustering Logan ends up telling him everything.

“In any case, the very fact that he is the kind of man who would cheat on his fiancé means he’s not the kind of man I thought he was. Therefore any alleged feelings I may have developed towards him would now be null and void” says Logan, looking like the worlds sadist accountant

Janus: So...wait. You’re saying wedding cake guy and hot lawyer guy are the same person?

(Logan: you need to come out of the basement more often Janus: YOU need to tell me what’s going on in your life more often. (they have had this conversation many times in the past))

So Janus sincerely tells Logan he’s sorry...and that he’s even more sorry that he needs him to help him deliver the cake to the venue tomorrow.

(this thing is way to big for one person to carry and there’s no way Jan would trust any of their occasional teenage cover staff to do this and ‘we’ll go round the back and you wont have to see anyone anyway comon Lo’ you basically built this monstrosity you should see it home)

So, reluctantly, Logan goes. And they go round the back as promised, and get this enormous cake settled, and then get told to wait there one sec cus one of the grooms is going to come sign for it and before Logan can throw himself out of the widow (get OFF me Janus we’re on the ground floor it’s FINE)  from behind them they hear squeeing.

There’s a curly haired dude in a pastel blue linen suit who Logan has never seen before in his life looking at the cake and cooing over ‘all the little details! its perfect! oh Virgil is going to love this! You know he was so embarrassed about asking for a Disney themed cake he had to ask Roman to go with him to -”

“Who ARE you?”

The man blinked at Logan, who realised dimly that he still had one foot up on the windowsill and slowly returned it to the floor. 

“I’m Patton” said Patton.

“And I’m Janus” said Janus, removing his arms from where they’d still been clamped around Logan’s waist and stepping smoothly towards Patton, clipboard held aloft “A pleasure to meet you, if you could just sign here...”

“BUT-” Patton paused, hand still raised to accept the clipboard, and looked over again at Logan who found himself mumbling:  “but - but the groom is supposed to sign for it?”

And Patton just smiled at him looking a bit bemused and goes ‘I am the groom? And who are you kiddo?”

Logan says he’s Logan. Patton suddenly looks a whole lot less friendly. 

“Oh.” says Patton. “You.”

And since Logan’s mind is currently refusing to take in the information in front of him Janus is the one who ends up stepping in between them and going “so just for 100% transparency - you are Patton. 

“yes?”

“and today you are marrying the love of your life: Virgil?”

“Yes!”

“And are either of you, at any point today, also planning on marrying one Roman Sanders, caffeine addict and terrible communicator?”

And Paton burst out laughing and says “ROMAN? Virgil’s big brother Roman? He’s my best man but I don’t think we’re planning to take it any further...”. And because Patton is apparently much quicker on the emotional uptake than Logan he gives him a vey soft, if slightly exasperated, look and says:

“Roman - who again, is my future brother-in-law- is helping set up in the main hall.”

And Logan likes to think he said thank you before he took off fucking RUNNING through the building but he can’t be sure.

So he gets to the hall, where a load of people are setting out chairs, putting up flowers etc,  and skids to a stop at one end of the aisle. Shouts: “ROMAN.” (Roman and Virgil, who were standing at the other end arguing over a flower arrangements, both look up) “YOU’RE NOT MARRYING YOUR BROTHER.”

“um.” Says Roman “No?”

Explanations are given. Virgil, who is a lot more talkative now that he’s not on 7th wedding appointment of the day burn out, is ready to physically fight Logan for breaking his brothers heart. And then once he understands the full story is ready to kill both of them for being such dumbasses.

Roman: But I s2g I told the guy on the phone that it was the groom and best man coming??? Logan: Yeah he might have lied and said you were a couple for a joke, or he may have just straight up not listened to you. Either way, he is just Like That.

Logan: WHY DID YOU NEVER MENTION VIRGIL WAS YOUR BORTHER?? Roman: I WAS TRYING TO GET TO KNOW YOU AND ALSO SEDUCE YOU WHY WOULD I WASTE TIME TALKING ABOUT MY LITTLE BROTHER??? Virgil: Yeah...he does like talking about himself, sorry he’s just  Like That.

Anyway it all ends fluffily, Patton and Virgil get married. Roman cries. Logan and Jan hang around for the wedding. Roman and Logan hold hands throughout the speeches and dance during the reception. Roman has to go back to law school soon but they agree to call each other every day at 2pm to catch up and argue. 

Janus gets off with the moustachioed DJ. 

And Roman and Logan get another chance at their first kiss.

[bisexual-horror-fan]

Stu Macher Sugar Daddy AU Headcannons.

So back when I did Kinky December, to close out that super fun event, I wrote this, fun little peice, an AU story about an older Stu Macher being your sugar daddy and it was on my mind and figured fuck it, why not do a personal headcannon post for this AU? If you like this and got any additions or ideas, have it, shoot me an ask or something! I like to think in this AU Stu has some big job he got via family connections in the financial district in New York and also while he and Billy have some certain tastes, they never indulged fully but that is part of where you come in! So let's get into it under the cut.

This is a sex worker positive space and sex work is valid work, if you don't think so, move on.

Rating: NSFW. Length: 1.5K. Warnings: Daddy Kink. General Poly!Ghostface Fuckery.

-Stu and you start this with the explicit implication of what your relationship was meant to be. He found you through the site you advertise yourself through for sugaring. The usual protocol followed after that. A date to determine how compatible you both were and you were both kind of surprised by how well you got along on that first date.

-You both obviously wanted to see each other again and so after discussing the usual things, expectations, wants, needs, allowance, and so the arrangement began officially.

-Neither of you expected how quickly it would escalate or how well you would truly get along. You and Stu got on like a house on fire. Conversation was lively and frequent, he was true to his word and gave even more than initially promised. Money was seemingly no object, he would pick up the tab without question, and would surprise you frequently.

-You dropped your other regular dates shortly after that. He didn’t ask you to but it was something you wanted to do, simply wanted to spend as much time as possible with him and be available whenever he needed and money wasn’t an issue at all anymore.

-It wasn’t just a business relationship anymore, developed into more than that and you couldn’t be happier about it.

-Yes you do call him Daddy, but not explicitly in public a lot of the time, something he asks, but it makes the times he TELLS you to call him it in public that much hotter. He calls you tons of pet names and you love it.

-He takes the title seriously. He actually CARES for you. It is about a hell of a lot more than just the sexual angle.

-You would stay over at Stu’s constantly, loved his place and he loved to have you around. He still insisted that you have your own place, paid for by him of course, he would even come by on occasion but much preferred to go out or have you over at his place. He liked you having your own space in case you ever needed it and didn’t want to intrude on YOUR space, even tho it was intruding at all.

-He loves to bring you to work events and show you off. Not just how you look and how well you are dressed and the finery he buys for you to trot you out in but also with the intelligent and insightful things you have to say and contribute. He also may or may not have given you pointers on shit pertaining to the business he was in prior to the event to make you look even better than you already were. You had done the going to work functions thing in your line of work a lot and were no slouch and it was something else that made this set up all the better.

-What is your poison because my God Stu is gonna be giving you it so much. You a fan of high end coffee? Yup you can count on him bringing you one or asking you out for coffee, dropping one off or sending someone over with one or hell getting an expensive and personal machine installed in your kitchen. You like getting your nails done? Well fuck how much babe, let him flash some cash and let you go get the most crazy nails your heart desires. You a foodie or a total lush? Lucky you! He loved going out to eat and for drinks. Or do you have a total shoe fetish? You getting any and all pairs of shoes you have ever even remotely laid your eyes on with even mildly passing interest. Clothes too duh, he loves to dress you up.

-So what interests you? Because Stu is interested in it now as well. He could listen to you go on about what was important to you for literal hours and you better believe he uses every little bit of info to better spoil you! While he loved to get you the more obvious things, food, clothes, money, basic luxuries you better believe he would get you items especially tailored to your hobbies and likes.

-Any place you ever wanted to travel too? Oh what a wild coincidence! All of a sudden a beautifully planned and paid for trip that Stu just HAPPENS to have tickets as well as his scheduled opening up all MAGICALLY coincides and you have the best time.

-The sex is insane. I mean duh, of fucking course, that happened early and often and was a big factor in determining your compatibility. He loved to spoil you in that way too, lingerie and toys and lavishing you with attention. My God he sure liked to use that mouth of his for more than just talking.

-He loves semi-public stuff. Loves pushing boundaries too. He adores going out for dinner with you looking just so dressed up and gorgeous and not being able to wait to get back to his place and fucking you in the back of the towncar on the way home.

-Having you suck him off under his desk at work on a lunch break.

-Having you ON that desk after hours.

-Fucking you on literally every surface of his apartment.

-So it doesn’t stay just Stu, you know that right? Once he is sure that you are an amazing fit he introduces you to Billy. Tells you that they have been friends for-fucking-ever and that you both liking eachother was important to him.

-You get along great with him too. You loved to see how they were together, he brought out this side in Stu that was so fun, not like he wasn’t fun usually but it was just kinda different, more playful you could say.

-You realize that you are introduced to Billy for more than just friendship.

-You are not opposed to this at all. You ask if they have done this before and the answer is yes. Sharing partners? Yep. Just them being together? Yes. Swapping? Naturally. Billy was hot and fun and treated you well too and again, the sex was fuckin’ good.

-So when the three of you were fully into the swing of this arrangement it was really fucking good. Plus you were literally never lonely. Some dates were just Stu and some were both and if Stu ever had to go out of town for some reason and you couldn’t come, well then Billy got you all to himself.

-He would insist that you stay at his place during those times to- “Properly keep an eye on you.” and you did not complain. Nights in with take-out that ended with you both on the couch or the mornings you’d share a shower before he had work or coming to his office all dressed up with lunch to impress his co-workers and maybe give him some head under his desk just like you do for Stu, all amazing.

His place was nice and you loved getting to have some time with just him, it was a great change of pace and Stu would love to come back to see you two being even closer.

-Stu coming back was so good too because of how he treated you when he missed you, a big date was a must after he was away and the way he fucked you after was specatular. The way he would whisper to you, asking about what you did this week and wanting to be filled in on all the dirty details of what you did with his best friend while he was away. You were all too happy to fill him in.

-Billy and Stu have some particular tastes. They suggest a weekend away, they have a game they want to play with you and you tentatively agree. You trust them both with your life and when you worded it that way the look they shared with a smirk should have been telling.

-A big rented beach house, a phone call, a “break in”, ropes and knives and costumes and more and oh my fucking God you got it. You understood it and were hooked and when it was all said and done and the ropes were being untied and you were still coming down with stars in your eyes and them praising the literal fuck out of you that they let it slip how often they had fantasized about this. That part of why they picked you, because Billy had been a bit more involved in the process of selecting you than you were initially made aware of, was how good they thought you would look being fucked by knifepoint.

-By what a-"pretty little victim you’d make” and well you knew you would be doing this again sometime. And it becomes a semi-regular occurrence in your sex lives.

-You spoil Stu in all kinds of ways. You surprise him with meals he loves, surprise visits when he is working, dropping in with the sweetest gifts, you try to remember all the little things he likes and love to listen to him. He knows he is in deep when you are traveling somewhere together the next day, a vacation, he works that day, comes back to his apartment to find you packed for him. You paid such close attention to detail and he felt so seen and appreciated.

-You do all the little things. Making breakfast the way he likes when you stay over, keeping in mind which clothes and lingerie he likes on you best, making notes when he particularly likes something you do or a color you wear.

-You still have your own life outside of your relationship. Friends and freedom, independence and it is all fucking great.

[soccerbites]

PAPER RINGS | Spencer Reid soulmate! au

rea/n: hii, so this is my first time writting for spencer and i’m not sure if it’s ok. Sorry for any mistakes i did not re-read this before posting it, might do it later tho, english is not my first language so please be nice :)

REQUEST: this was a request from @urie-bowie-mercury​ “Hi, i was wondering if you could do a spencer x reader x soulmate au. Where the reader finds out they’re soulmates first and doesn’t think he’ll like her so she runs away. Angst but ends in fluff, if that makes sense. Thank you so much!”

WARNINGS: little bit just a little bit angst.

WORDS COUNT: 1,2k

Being best friends with Spencer Reid was one of the best things that happened to you in your entire life, even though you aknowledged each other’s existence for many years; your friendship had not started until a few years ago.

In fact, you two went together to school when you were kids. You knew what Spencer had gone through during his childhood, and you really wanted to help him, but you were afraid that if you did; those mean kids would do the same to you. So instead, being nice to him was what you did, sitting with him during launch or joining him on school projects, he barely talk, but he very much appreciated the gesture.

Everyone knew how smart Spencer is, and that was why the news of him moving to D.C to join the FBI did not surprise you at all. You wondered what had happened to Diana, he never mentioned her problems but you had heard your parents talk about it a few times.

But one saturday afternoon, your twenty third birthday day, you went with your mom and dad to visit your grandpa and that was when you saw her sitting by the window while writing on a little journal, you asked if it was ok to talk to her, the nurses told you it was, so you did. Diana told you about the letters Spencer sent and how proud she was of him, and she also mentioned how it was her birthday too, crazy, isn’t it?. It took you by surprise when before getting up and leaving she asked you if you were ever coming back, you said you would, and on the way out you could see Spencer arriving with a little present on his hands. And ever since that day, every time you visited your grandpa, you also did Diana.

An entire year went by and you were twenty four when you got an offer to work at a publishing company in D.C, which of course you accepted. 

It was one of the first mornings after settling in your apartment when it happended.

“y/n y/l/n” the girl behind the counter called your name to give you your order.

“can I have some extra sugar please?” she nodded and gave it to you.

You turned around and started walking towards the door, passing by a few people sitting at tables. 

“y/n?” you heard your name being called, and as you lowered your glance to the man calling, you noticed it was Spencer.

“Spencer! hi” you extended your hand for him to shake and almost instantly took it back, “sorry, I forgot” he smiled.

“What are you doing here?” Reid asked.

“In D.C? I’m working, first day today” you answered.

“Well, good luck then” 

“Thank you, have a nice one Spencer”

“You too” and just like that you exited the coffee shop.

After that day you crossed paths always, except for saturdays and sundays, and after a few times, you exchanged numbers, slowly becoming friends.

You couldn’t believe it had been four years since you met again.

It was not a secret you liked Spencer, a lot. His entire team seems to know, everyone except him. For being a literal genious, it was dumb for him to not realize you were over heels about him.

One night out with his team, while Spencer was in the bathroom, Morgan looked at you and told you  pretty boy was in love with you too, and that you two were meant to be, Penelope used the word “soulmates”. You laughed at them, but it certainly left you thinking about it for weeks, which ended up on you developing even more feelings for him. 

It got to the point when it physically hurt you not being able to tell him how you felt. He was way into his work to get into a relationship with someone, and you were not even sure if he liked you that way, maybe you were blind to the signs too...

Spencer was working on a case in Texas, and it had been almost a week since he left town for it. You took this time to think about it, almost barely doing your own work. The word kept appearing in your mind “soulmate”, and you started to think about all your life coincidences, school? sharing birthday with his mom? D.C? maybe the butterflies you felt when he did the most nomral things? both of you liking extremely sweet coffee?, “they are just coincidences, this is just a crush you are having right now, it will go away” you told yourself.

But it didn’t, it never went away, and every time it got harder, and harder, and harder to be around him and stopping yourself from kissing him or holding his hand.

Distance.

It was your best option, if you stopped seeing him for a while, it would finally just go away, at least that was what you hopped.

He called, he came by your apartment, but you always found a perfect excuse to not answer the phone or the door.

In the other side of the story, Spencer was hurting, he needed his best friend, and he used all the time you two were not seeing each other to think, he always had a thing for you, and by saying always, I mean always since school to this current day. If he couldn’t have you like he desired, he will have you as his best friend.

It hurt you too, at the end of the day, he was your only friend in D.C.

While you kept yourself busy with your work, he couldn’t focus on his.

While he wrote letters to Diana talking about you, you visited her and talked about him.

“Honey, you need to talk to him, he loves you” his mother told you.

When you came back, two days after visiting Diana, you opened your apartment door and found Spencer sleeping on the couch.

“Spence” you brushed your hand through his hair and he slowly opened his eyes.

“I have the spare key” he said.

“I know” you smiled at his sleepy face.

“Where were you?” Spencer asked while sitting straight.

“I went home for the weekend” you sat next to him.

“No. I mean where were you the past two weeks?” 

“I just needed some time off”

“Some time off from me?” he sounded sad.

“Spence-”

“I was worried you know?, you didn’t return my calls, I came by and you never opened the door when I know you were here because of the brownie smell, you didn’t even bother opening my messages”.

“I know Spence and I’m sorry but-” you looked at your hands and back at him.

“No you don’t know y/n, it hurts, it hurts because I love you” he never stopped looking to your eyes, “and I know you don’t love me in that way and I get it but please do not avoid me like that again I thought there was something wrong with me or you and then-” you cut him off by kissing him, finally, he instantly followed it.

“Spencer Reid I would marry you with paper rings anytime you asked me to” you said while pressing you forehead against his.

“What does that mean?” you laughed.

“It means that I love you too genius” now it was you who looked into his eyes and he smiled. Pulling you closer with a hug.

Soulmates? Could it be?

[ningningsdream]

keep it low | mk.l

pairing: music student!mark x music student!fem reader

genre: fluff, angst, roommates-to-lovers

word count: 6.5k

warning(s): swearing, maybe a little suggestive (mention of making out and implicit allusion to sex but no smut)

description: in which you didn’t expect to also be a love counselor when you moved in with your new roommate.

a/n: this is apart of my new series of roommates-to-lovers with the dreamies, sweet life

main masterlist

when you were younger, you’ve always expected to stick with your best friends after highschool, having the best uni experience together, being roommates and all but you never expected almost all of them to either go study abroad or in a university far away from yours. you went to Seoul Music University, a prestigious school you had the chance to attend thanks to your good grades and the entrance interview you nailed a few months before receiving your acceptance letter. the only ‘bad thing’ about being accepted at SMU was that you lived really far away from Seoul but one of your friends who knew people at SMU told you that there was this building known to house a lot of students from the university. even though the building wasn’t linked to the school, it was treated as if it was part of it since most of the person living in that building went to SMU because it was literally five minutes away from the university.

you asked your friend to ask her friends at SMU if they knew anyone who needed a roommate and that was how you ended up with mark lee’s number.

you: hey, is this mark?

possible future roommate: uhm yes? who is this?

you: im y/n, my friend gave me your number because your friends said you were looking for a roommate? and im actually looking for a place to live

possible future roommate: oh right!

possible future roommate: do you want to come see the place tomorrow?

you: mmh yeah that would be great

possible future roommate: great, just text me when you’re downstairs, i’ll come and get you

you: you’re not a creepy dude that’s going to kill me right?

possible future roommate: no

possible future roommate: even if i was, i wouldn’t admit it

you: really reassuring 😭

the first time you met mark, let’s just say that you didn’t expect him to look like that. you didn’t know what you were expecting but surely not a cute guy with glasses and a dorky smile. as for mark, he almost fell on the floor when he first saw you -literally, his feet somehow got tangled-, he was nervous about the possible idea of having a girl as a roommate. to end the awkward silence he asked you questions about yourself which you returned.

mark learned that you were starting your first year at SMU, that you were going to study musical analysis and songwriting and that you needed a place to stay because your hometown was far away whereas you learned that mark was already in his second year at SMU making him one year older than you, that he was studying musical composition and sounds aesthetics and that his ex-roommate moved out to move in with his girlfriend.

mark gave you a little apartment tour which was surprisingly pretty neat. it was a lot bigger and more luminous than you expected. the room that was supposed to be yours was simple yet cozy. mark told you everything you needed to know about the rent, the neighbors, etc. and you agreed to be his roommate.

living with mark was pretty simple at first. you two didn’t really get out of your rooms so you wouldn’t interact often, just short greetings when you bumped into each other in the hallway or the kitchen. but the peaceful atmosphere changed when uni started. you two saw each other even less than before, having different majors and different schedules but you sure were hearing him more.

well not him, his music.

it was pretty soft at first, you could barely hear it but as weeks passed by, the volume became louder and louder. you would sometimes go to his door, knocking on it with an annoyed expression on your face but every time he would open the door with this apologetic face, looking at you like a stray puppy with his doe eyes while apologizing for the noise, promising to turn it down, you couldn’t be mad at him, not with that face.

every morning for the past month, you needed a cup of coffee - even though you hated coffee - to stay awake all day long.

“why are you so sleepy again?”, lia, the only friend that followed you throughout your entire life, asked you as she saw your half-open eyelids.

“my roommate stayed up so late, blasting his music through the speakers in his room. i’m still surprised we didn’t have any complaints yet.”, you said, before putting a hand on your mouth to yawn.

“tell him to turn it down.”

“already tried but it seems like he instinctively turns it back up gradually.”

“then tell him to shut his freaking music off so you could get some beauty sleep.”

“can’t.”

“why?”

“because he always looks at me so apologetically that i can’t get angry.”

“girl, you have a crush on him or something?”

“nah, he just has that kind of face, you know?”

one night, apart from the beats and music coming from mark’s room, you also heard his voice, stopping mid-sentence every time to see if the lyrics were good. this time the song was a lot slower and softer than the usual stuff he would do so instead of keeping you awake, it kind of lull you to sleep. the next morning, you felt refreshed and more energetic as you had your eight hours of sleep.

“you looked better today girl! what happened?”, lia asked enthusiastically as you sat down next to her.

“finally got a good night of sleep.”

during your classes, from time to time, your brain would hum what you identified as mark’s song from last night, lyrics popping here and there in your brain, a mix of the one you heard from him and new ones you just made up. you wrote them down on a random piece of paper as they seemed to be stuck in your brain.

later that day, you were sitting on your bed while going through the list of first years in the composition class to find a partner for this project you have to do for your writing class. every year, students from these two classes would collaborate to create a song and it was supposed to represent 35% of your semester’s grade so it was pretty important. to choose a partner, your professors had made this list thing where they put the students’ music profiles next to their name so that everyone can collaborate with someone that had the same interests musically. the few students you managed to pick already had a partner and the process of selecting other students was already tiring you.

as you were about to dive in the list again you heard mark’s voice starting to sing the same song that lulled you to sleep. you could clearly hear the hesitation in his voice as the lyrics came out. your eyes wandered to the stacks on notebooks on your desk in which was the piece of paper you wrote lyrics to his song on and you thought about it for a moment. should you give him the lyrics you wrote or should you just let him do his thing? after all, he never meant to share the song with you.

after a hot minute of thinking, you stood up and went to your desk, taking the piece of paper out of one of your notebooks and headed to mark’s room.

when he heard the knock on his door, mark thought he knew what you wanted to tell him. he thought it was the usual 'can you turn it down?’ question so he opened the door and went, “i’m sorr-”, but you interrupted him by giving him the paper with the lyrics on it before going back to your room without saying anything. mark stood there with a frown on his face, trying to understand what just happened. he looked at the piece of paper you just gave him and recognized some of his lyrics along with unknown ones. he started to sing it in his head as he closed the door walking to his desk and decided to give it a try with the music.

you sat on your bed, waiting impatiently for his next move. a few seconds later, you heard mark singing the lyrics you gave him to his instrumental and found yourself smiling at how good it was. satisfied with how smooth the song sounded now without mark interrupting himself every second, trying to find better words, you were about to dive right back in that list of students, determined to find a partner when your roommate barged into your room.

“sure mark, come in.”, you said, sarcastically rolling your eyes.

“sorry…”, he quickly apologized, rubbing the back of his neck, “the lyrics you gave me, how-”

“i can hear everything coming from your room mark, the lyrics just popped in my head this morning as your song was stuck in my brain.”

“it’s- it’s really good. the lyrics.”

“well thanks. i am studying that after all.”

“i- uhm…are you busy right now?”, he asked, his shyness taking over his body.

“oh uhm i have to find a partner for that composition-songwriting project.”, you sighed before turning your attention back to the list.

mark nodded a little bit disappointed. he wanted to ask you if you wanted to maybe, possibly help him with his song but since you were busy with that project- wait, he too had the same project to do.

“do you want to do it with me?”, mark’s voice suddenly surprised you as you thought he already left.

“what?”, you asked because you didn’t really hear his question as your focus was on your laptop.

“the project. want to do it together?”, he asked, full of hope.

“aren’t we supposed to do it with someone from our year?”

“i’ll ask mr.kim if i can do it with you, only if you want to though.”, he said, rubbing the back of his neck. you nodded with a smile. now, you could stop going through that hell of a list. after receiving a positive answer from your professors, you and mark started to work on your song.

at first, you thought that the two of you would just work on the project, you didn’t expect to actually get to know your roommate more. you spent the last few nights in mark’s bedroom, working on your song while having some extra fun because your roommate was unexpectedly a bigger dork than you thought.

“how about we change these lyrics to those?”, you suggested, showing mark the two sentences.

the song you were making was supposed to be a sad and heartbreaking one and you wanted the lyrics to hit deep in people’s soul.

“damn girl, who hurt you?”, mark’s question made you smile, satisfied with his reaction.

you yawned a few minutes later, falling onto mark’s bed while stretching, “i’m just going to rest my eyes for five minutes. if i fall asleep, wake me up.”

you opened your eyes and it was the next morning, you panicked for a moment before remembering that it was sunday and that you didn’t have any classes to attend. you rubbed your eyes and looked around the room but saw no trace of mark. you heard some rustling in the kitchen so you walked out of mark’s room, stopping by the bathroom before joining your roommate in the kitchen.

“why didn’t you wake me up?”

“you were so cute, i didn’t want to wake you up.”, your ears perked up at the compliment while mark was trying to correct himself out of embarrassment, “i-i-i mean peaceful, yeah peaceful, you looked peaceful. anyway, breakfast?”

you smiled at how dorky he was, realizing what you’ve been missing out on during the first part of your semester.

“what’s for breakfast?”

“i tried to make eggs but they didn’t turn out great…gordon ramsay would be ashamed.”, mark said, rubbing the back of his neck with a little embarrassed smile.

“it can’t be worse than your curry that smelled like burned chicken.”, you commented, thinking about the time your roommate said he would try and cook something new but it turned out real bad and you just ended up ordering jajangmyeon.

“it wasn’t that bad.”, he corrected softly, earning a look from you which made him admit the disaster that was his attempt at cooking.

“oh by the way, where did you sleep?”

“on the couch.”

“that must have been so uncomfortable, you don’t even fit on the couch! you could’ve just lied beside me, it’s no big deal.”

“i’m a sleep cuddler, didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“i wouldn’t have minded the cuddling.”, you jokingly shrugged as mark felt his ears becoming redder and redder. you took a bite of his eggs and frowned a bit, “they are surprisingly okay.”

the more time you spent with mark, the more you learned to love these little things about him, like how he would get excited and laugh his heart out while clapping hard or kicking his legs or how he played his music a little too loud at night because 1. you were now in the room with him and not trying to sleep and 2. you admired how dedicated he was to his music. even if you still asked him to keep it low when you went back to your room, you would always smile when you heard his music increasing slowly.

mark would also slowly get more comfortable around you, letting his weird but cute little quirks come out more often like now when you two go grocery shopping together he didn’t have to hide his excitement every time he saw watermelons.

“you wanna grab dinner tonight?”, lia aked you as you sat next to her in class.

“sorry, i can’t tonight. mark and i are staying late to record our song for the project.”, you said with a little pout.

“oh so you and mark huh? you’ve become quite close.”, lia wiggled her eyebrows at you, subtly hinting at something.

“well yeah, he’s my roommate after all.”, you simply reply, ignoring her teasing.

“you were still calling him 'your roommate’ a few months ago, i didn’t even know his name was mark.”, lia deadpanned.

“i just need time to get to know people.”

“i’m sure you two will really get to know each other in that dark studio all alone.”

“one, nothing is going to happen and two, we’re not going to be alone, mark asked his friend to sing the demo so we’re not going to be alone.”

“mmmh i still ship it though.”, your friend smirked before turning back to writing her notes.

after your last class of the day, you went back to your apartment to take a shower and chill a little, waiting for mark’s 6pm class to end.

sucky cook 🍳: my class ends in 15 minutes, meet me in front of the room?

you grabbed your bag, put your shoes on, and made your way to mark’s classroom on the composition side of the campus. you took a peek into each classroom to see if mark was in there -thanks to the little window on the door. when you finally spotted him, you waited patiently for five minutes before the door opened, startling you.

“it’s me.”, the familiar laugh made you frown and hit the arm of the person it belonged to.

“marrrk, you scared me! you could’ve opened the door softer goddamnit!”, you complained as you two walked to the studios’ area.

“oh come on, you scaredy-cat.”, he said, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and messing your freshly dried hair up.

after you two stopped by the studio reservation office to grabbed the key card of the studio you two reserved for that day, you entered the little dark studio and started to prepare the tracks and everything.

mark’s friend, donghyuck, arrived a few minutes later and introduced himself to you. you discovered that donghyuck was your age and that he wasn’t really a singer or anything, mark just liked the tone of his voice which you agree with. you three were so concentrated on the recording that you didn’t even notice how many hours had passed by until your stomach growled.

“oh wow it’s 8pm already. we should take a break and get something to eat.”, you said after looking at the time on your phone.

“don’t worry, i already took care of that. i texted my roommate to bring us some food.”, donghyuck said.

“oh by the way, your voice is really nice. have you considered being a singer professionally?”, you asked him while you three waited for donghyuck’s roommate.

“no, not really. i didn’t really know that i knew how to sing until mark made a comment about it.”

“you should really consider the option though. i’ve never heard a voice like yours, it’s really unique and recognizable. honestly, you could make it as a singer.”

“it’s not that special…”, mark quietly said, hiding the sulkiness in his voice.

donghyuck eyed mark as the two of you started to argue -not really- on donghyuck’s voice with you being almost more offended at mark’s comment than the one it was about. the younger boy’s eyes went back and forth between the two of you as he would slowly start to realize something.

mark was the first one to tell him that his voice was great and was always the one who praised the uniqueness of his tone so why the sudden change?

was mark lee…jealous?

donghyuck was trying to hide his smile at the thought of a jealous mark lee when you all heard a knock on the door. donghyuck opened it, being the closest one to the door and revealing a short girl behind it, holding bags of food.

“you’re lucky i owe you big time.”, his roommate said, handing him two bags that donghyuck hurriedly took.

“you kids enjoy this.”, he said, putting one of them on the mini table, and then he turned back to his roommate, pushing her outside the studio, “we have to be somewhere.”

before his roommate could even protest, donghyuck had already closed the door, leaving mark and you alone with a lot of questions going through your head.

you two started to eat while talking about your lives, “so how did you meet donghyuck?”

“oh he knew one of my friends, johnny, and we met at a party of his. i thought he was a brat at first.”, mark replied, earning a laugh from you.

“what about now?”

“he’s still a brat…but he’s also one of my closest friends. i-”, mark was interrupted by his phone ringing but when he checked who was calling him, you could see the hesitation in his eyes before he declined it, “sorry, i’m going to put it on mute.”

after mark’s little story about donghyuck puking on his shoes once when he was drunk, not because on the alcohol but just because he wanted to, you two went back to your songs.

“maybe right there we can enhance the-”, mark stopped again in the middle of his sentence to look at the caller id on his phone for what seemed like the hundredth time to you.

along with the calls he has also received some messages which you didn’t read because you respected his private life and at that moment, it was maybe because of your tiredness or just the annoyance of that caller that didn’t seem to understand that mark was busy but you said, “you can answer it if you want.”

“nah, it’s okay. i don’t want to talk to that person.”, mark replied, giving you a sad little smile which you wondered the meaning behind it.

mark continued his explanation and you started exchanging ideas when the caller id appeared, again.

enough was enough for you.

you took mark’s phone and answered the call, “hello, can you stop calling please? we’ll really appreciate it, thank you.”, you didn’t even wait for the caller’s response and immediately hung up.

a sudden feeling of guilt took over you as you realized you’ve just invaded his private life. you shouldn’t have answered that call for him.

without even noticing it you started to ramble, “i-i’m sorry. i shouldn’t have done that. i overstepped-”

“it’s alright, it’s alright. if anything i have to thank you.”, mark reassured you even though you still felt a little bad about the situation.

after you answered that call, the person stopped bothering mark and you managed to finish your song that night. you felt so relieved after that, you had more time to rest and more time to hang out with lia, it felt like forever since the two of you hung out.

“so tell me everything about you and mark? how is it going?”, lia asked, dropping the delivery food you two ordered on her coffee table.

you and lia decided to have a movie night but it was more of a 'catch-me-up-on-everything-happening-in-your-life’ night while you were both eating fried chicken.

“i already told you! there’s nothing between mark and me.”

“you sure of that? nothing happened? at all? not even a tiny teeny thing?”

“well…”

“i knew it! tell me everything!”

“it’s nothing, really, nothing at all. there was just that one time, we were taking a break from the song for our project and i spotted the guitar in the corner of his room so i asked him if he knew how to play. he said yes and you know me i always talk about my life so i told him that i’ve always wanted to learn how to play the guitar. then he handed it to me and told me it was easy, he started to teach me the basic notes and everything, it even came to a point where his arms were around me because he was putting my fingers in the right places and when i turned to look at him, our faces were so close.”, lia let out a little squeal at your story, “but nothing happened!”, you clarified as your friend’s expression changed from excited to disappointed.

“why not?!”

“because- because we’re roommates!”

“so what?”

“it will be awkward if we broke up. i’m really not ready to find another roommate.”, you explained.

“but what if you’re missing on something?”, your friend argued, not wanting you to regret anything.

“i’ve never been really lucky in that area of my life…”, you stated, reminiscing your past relationship.

“you know it’s been a long time right? you have the right to try with someone new.”, lia reassured you, knowing exactly where your mind was going.

“i know but we were so good together, i don’t know if i can ever find someone like him.”

“y/n, sweetie, you’re not supposed to find someone like him. just find someone who can make you as happy as he did if not even happier.”

“i have you, that’s enough.”, you said, wrapping your arms around lia.

“my girlfriend would not agree with that.”, lia replied with a chuckle.

“why not? we could be the hottest throuple.”, you retorted jokingly.

“never suggest that to my girlfriend, she might accept.”, lia said, making the both of you laugh.

before it got too late, you left lia’s apartment to go back to yours. luckily, her building was just a couple of minutes away from yours, so it didn’t take you long to come back to your dorm. when the elevator’s doors opened, you got out and walked to your door while texting lia that you got home safely but when you looked up, you saw mark and another girl kissing in front of your shared apartment’s door. you froze for a moment as your eyes widened, your phone slipped out of your hands and fell to the ground, causing a big and loud noise to erupt, making the couple stop in their heated action.

“i-i-”, you stuttered, picking your phone up from the ground, “i am so sorry. i-i’m going to go…uhm…you guys…continue what you were doing-”

“no, please stay. she was going to leave.”, mark said, without an ounce of emotion in his voice but his eyes were begging you.

the girl eyed you then mark and left without saying a word. mark walked back into your apartment, letting the door open for you to enter. you closed the door and removed your shoes before turning around ready to apologize again but when you did so, mark had already disappeared into his room. you sighed and made your way to your own room. you changed into your pajamas and lied in your bed. you tossed and turned for what seemed like an hour, failing to fall asleep. the previous scene seemed to be stuck in your head, you felt incredibly embarrassed, not only because you interrupted mark and that girl you’ve never seen before but also by the fact that maybe you were starting to develop a tiny crush on your roommate.

after some more tossing and turning, you decided to get up and made your way to mark’s room.

maybe apologizing to him will make you feel more at ease about the whole situation.

you knocked on the door, fiddling with your fingers while waiting for mark to open it.

as you heard the door open, the words immediately came out of you, “i am honestly so sorry about what happened earlier, i know i already apologized but i feel like-”, you looked up to see mark’s bloodshot eyes, sadly staring at you, “are you okay?”, your roommate just sniffed in response which you took as a no. your expression softened at how he looked…lost and conflicted.

“do you think i should get back with my ex?”, mark opened his mouth to ask and his voice sounded so fragile.

“okay…we definitely need to have a conversation.”, you said, putting your hands on his shoulders and turned him around, pushing him into his room. you closed the door behind the two of you and sat down on his bed. you grabbed one of his pillows and hugged it while making yourself comfortable, “now tell me what’s up.”

mark sighed and sat next to you, “the girl you saw earlier is my ex-girlfriend.”

“well if you’ve been smooching her like that then yeah you should get back together. seems like you still have feelings.”, you said, even though you may had a crush on him, you were mature enough to put your feelings aside and answer honestly.

“she cheated on me.”

your eyes widened and you quickly corrected yourself, “then don’t get back with her. never. EVER.”

“but-”

“no but! she cheated on you once, if you forgive her now, she’ll think she can get away with it again because you forgave her the first time.”

mark sighed and looked down, his phone vibrated next to him on his bed, “it’s her.”

“don’t answer! give me your phone!”

“no!”

“mark!”, you almost jumped to reach for his phone and your body was literally crushing his. you grabbed his phone and turned towards him saying, “if she didn’t appreciate you enough the first time, she doesn’t get to have a second chance. please don’t let people you love treat you like shit.”

mark suddenly wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you tightly against his own body. you let out a small surprised noise at the unexpected hug but let yourself melt into it anyway, “can we stay like that for a moment?”

“of course.”, you whispered, wrapping your arms around him, rubbing his back.

after that night, you made a mission to help mark get over his ex.

first step was to make mark block his ex’s number. it was tough but after some convincing talk, you managed to persuade him.

second step was to let mark express what he felt about his ex and the whole situation.

“so you want me to write down…my feelings? how am i suppose to do that?”

“just- just write down what you’re feeling. sad, happy, disappointed?”

“are you sure this is going to work?”

“well, you won’t be a 100% okay but you’ll feel better.”

mark sighed and complied. he looked down at the blank piece of paper and scribbled some words. few minutes had passed as mark tried to word his feelings while you were trying to play the guitar - keyword 'trying’.

“i can’t do this!”, you heard mark complain and put his guitar aside to get up and see how he was doing.

“three words? really?”, you asked, looking at the three scribbled words on the piece of paper.

mark stood up and walked to his bed, “i’m not good at expressing myself with words. you’re the songwriting student here!”, the little pout and frown on his face made your heart do that weird little thing.

“okay, fine. let’s do this differently. tell me how you feel in your own way. let’s start with how you felt when you found out about the whole cheating thing.”, you said while looking at the boy falling down on his bed.

“i-i was…angry? sad?”

“angry at her?”

“at myself.”

“why?”

“i-i don’t know- i- feel like it was my fault. maybe if i was like i don’t know, a better boyfriend? i should’ve...saw it coming? change things? like say ‘i love you’ more often?”

“so what you’re saying is that you’re angry at yourself because you think it’s your fault? you think that you could’ve done something to prevent it like being a better boyfriend or telling her you love her more frequently so she wouldn’t have gone to someone else for it?”, you tried to rephrase his messy thoughts into something less messy and more structured.

“wow, you’re good.”, mark said, pretty impressed by how quick your brain worked.

“mark…”, you sat next to him, “you really should stop blaming yourself.”, you put your hand over his, tapping it in comfort, “what stopped you from getting back with her?

"i…don’t…really know? i guess a part of me had doubts because i felt betrayed. you know, it was my friend renjun who told me about it, she didn’t even have the guts to do it.”

“see, this part of you knows that you’re worth more than that. listen to it more often.”, you commented, flicking his forehead, earning a complaint from him, “feel better?”

“better.”, he let out a sigh as his body relaxed after letting out all those feelings he tried to suppress.

third step was to distract mark from thinking about his ex.

you barged into mark’s room screaming, “get your ass prepped because we’re going out tonight!!”

“what are you talking about?”, mark asked, removing his earphones.

“seoul’s music festival!!”, you screamed, holding two tickets up, “lia’s girlfriend knows someone that got us free tickets!!”

“well, enjoy.”, mark replied, putting his earphones back on.

you frowned and walked to him to remove his earphones, “what do you mean? you’re coming with me!”

“nah i’m good.”

“i wasn’t asking. this is step three of the 'getting-over-my-ex’ plan. you need to get out and have fun. i’ve never seen you go out to have fun even once.”

“that’s an exaggeration. i do have fun…sometimes.”

“when was the last time you had 'fun’?”

“i-”, he stopped to think about it for a moment and realized that he didn’t even remember the last time he actually had fun outside with his friends, “fine, i’ll come.”

you two arrived at the festival and you already felt the vibe of the outdoor event. it had a really strong korean coachella feel to it. there was a big stage in the middle of the grass, multiple food trucks selling delicious foods, and lots of people dancing. you grabbed mark’s hand and dragged him to the middle of the crowd of people jamming to the group on stage. you joined in and started to jump up and down while screaming the lyrics to the familiar song. mark smiled while following your actions, enjoying his time with you. you two engaged into a little dancing relay as each of you did a funny weird dance that made the other laugh.

when the two of you got tired, you got away from the stage and the people to buy some delicious food before sitting down on the grass a little away from the festival where you could hear each other talk.

“i’m curious about something.”, mark said, taking a bite of his food.

“hit me.”

“how do you know all these things about getting over someone?”

“well first, the internet exists and second, that’s what lia used on me to make me get over my ex.”

“what happened?”, mark asked curiously, realizing that he didn’t know a thing about your dating life when you know so much about his already.

“well, nothing bad BAD happened, we broke up because he was going to study abroad and i stayed here. i was expecting it so it could’ve affected me worse than it did i guess.”

“do you miss him?”

“sometimes, but then i don’t know if i miss him or what we had and that’s a whole other question.”, you sighed before checking the time, “oh, already?! let’s go check the temporary tattoo area!”

you got up discarding your empty plates in the nearest trashcan and grabbed mark’s hand for you didn’t even how many times tonight. mark didn’t seem to hate it, on the contrary, he quite like the feeling of your small hand in his and he wondered how his fingers would feel intertwined with yours. the answer is perfectly. as he slipped his fingers between yours, you turned to look at him with a confused look on your face that turned into a genuine smile which your roommate returned.

you got a temporary tattoo of a poppy flower in color on the inner side of your forearm and mark got one of a lion on his ankle (something like this but like a lion).

“i can’t believe i got a tattoo. what’s my mom going to think?”, mark said in disbelief as you two walked back to your dorm hand in hand.

“it’s a temporary one, you silly. stop being dramatic.”, you rolled your eyes playfully at him.

“thank you for tonight by the way. it was really fun.”, mark let you entered the apartment first still holding onto your hand as you replied.

“see, you should go out more often. get laid from time to time, one night stands are not that bad. i’m going to change out of this now, goodn-”, as soon as you let go of mark’s hand, your roommate grabbed it again.

“wait!”, mark pulled you back, his other hand instinctively and gently placed itself on your cheek and his lips softly landed on yours.

you were surprised but kissed him back nonetheless. your eyes closed as your whole body enjoyed how mark was making you feel right now. you both pulled away for air and you heard mark ask, “wanna be my one night stand?”

you searched his face for any sign of him kidding but he seemed pretty serious about it, “this is completely physical, right?”

“completely.”, both of you knew that it wasn’t only physical but it’ll suffice for now.

your arms automatically sneaked around his neck and his hands grasped on your hips, bringing your body closer to his as you two engaged into a heated make-out session that turned into more for the rest of the night.

the next morning, the light of the sun coming through the window annoyingly stirring you out of your deep sleep.

can’t a girl just enjoy her morning free of any classes?

wait. this blanket didn’t smell like yours.

your eyes widened as you looked at your surroundings, blushing at the memories of last night. you lied back in mark’s bed wondering where your roommate was. you grabbed your phone on the bedside table and noticed that mark sent you a text.

sucky cook 🍳: hey, sorry i had to leave, didn’t want to be late for my morning class. wanna grab lunch together?

the text unknowingly made you smile as you got out of bed to get ready. when you stepped out of your building, the sun was high in the sky, the wind was softly brushing against your skin and you felt amazing. making your way to mark’s class, you politely greeted the people you knew in the hallways.

mark was impatiently waiting for his morning class to finish, wanting to finally be able to ask you out on a real date. he would’ve loved to ask you before what happened the night before but he sure was not complaining. you made his heart do all sorts of flips and just the thought of you made him all giggly.

“what’s up with you today? you look extra happy.”, his friend, lucas, asked him, after noticing a change in his 'aura’.

“really?”, lucas nodded as an answer and mark just giggled while scratching the back of his neck, “it’s nothing- i mean- no, no, it’s not nothing- i mean- i-”

“ooooh you got laid.”, lucas chuckled as mark tried to shush him, “i didn’t take you for a one night stand kind of guy.”

“i’m not- i mean, it was but- what if i don’t want her to be just a one night stand?”

“oooh hooo mark lee, yes man. get your girl.”

you waited outside of his classroom like last time while scrolling through your phone when a girl stopped in front of the class and checked inside before leaning against the wall next to the door. you looked at her for a second before focusing back on your phone. she looked quite familiar but you didn’t know where you’ve seen her.

“excuse me, are you mark’s roommate?”, the girl hesitantly asked you, snapping you out of your thought.

oh right, mark’s ex.

“uhm…yes.”, you gave her a short answer, not wanting to continue this conversation but she didn’t seem to get it as she walked closer to you.

“what are you doing here?”

“i’m waiting for-”

“y/n!”, both of you turned to the direction the voice came from and you smiled at the boy walking towards you, “kyunhee? what are you doing here?”

“i- i was wondering if you wanted to, i don’t know, grab something to eat?”, she asked, bouncing back and forth on her heels while holding tightly onto her books.

“oh, sorry. i already planned something with y/n.”, mark said, grabbing your hand and intertwining your fingers together, “see you around, kyunhee.”

you still looked at mark with wide eyes as the two of you walked away, “what?”, he asked, noticing your expression.

“you just completed the fourth step without me telling you what it was.”

“what’s the fourth step?”

“rejecting your ex if they come back.”, you proudly said then added, “even though you didn’t have to hold onto my hand to do that.”

“well, i like holding your hand.”

“i thought it was just supposed to be a one night stand.”, you said, hinting at your previous night together.

“what if i want it to be more than a one night stand?”, mark asked, sending a hopeful smile your way.

“i’d like that very much.”, you smiled back at him, giving his hand a light squeeze.

a/n: alright, i finally posted this!!!!! i hope you like it!! i posted this to celebrate nct 2020 and the two new members hnquhncfjkdfhsyufh i can’t wait aaaah and btw i love jisung’s hair so much rn

taglist: @planetjisungie​ @thatanonymousgirl-as14​ @xiao-zi​