#and it's something we bond over and our whole relationship always boils down to the fact we're very similar people

[hella1975]

joel very clumsily but very earnestly trying to be there for her. stop it right now

finale time!

[imaginativeamateur]

can you do 30 with kakashi and a fem reader pls 🥺🤲 I love your work and am so happy for you regarding your follower milestone, congrats !!

[Kakashi Hatake X Reader] The Power of Love

|200 Followers Event|

Prompt: 30 — "I mean it."

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x fem!Reader

Note: Aloha, I'm back!!! Thanks for the request and the cheers😝 Okay, this one is AHHH, the title :DD This one is very sentimental but playful at the same time. There's like some serious talk but also entertaining moments, too. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Constant requests that you get married were sent in your way for the past several months. Your parents were tired of having to wait to see you bring a man home, but you had no intention to comply. The topic would come up to the table during dinner every now and then, with your mother furrowing in her brows and your father sighing in distress. On your part, you played cool, soothing them that you just found a guy and dismissing the matter with a feigned grin.

Everything would be ordinary, much to your own liking until your parents secretly signed you up for a match-matching service. You had a big argument that night but they smugly smiled and ensured that you would fall in love with him immediately. It was ridiculous.

“You’d be head over heels in no time, Y/N,” your mother said.

“Like she knows who he is,” you mumbled, scoffing on your way back to your apartment.

Though you completely shut the door to the new romance—the guy that you presumably knew nothing about—you woke up earlier than usual, earlier than you should. You blamed it on your neighbor’s child crying but you discerned that you were being irrational. The whole situation was aberrant. You purposefully threw on a pair of jeans and a shirt that was too worn out for a first date. Still, you could not be any more careless, the last thing you wanted was to get the man to generate some form of adoration for you. You checked yourself in the mirror and made sure that you looked representable nonetheless.

The sun was already high up in the sky when you locked your door and tiredly dropped the keys into your handbag, storming to the destination with angry steps. It was your day off and you could have spent your time on something much more meaningful, training, for example. Kakashi-senpai said you still needed to hone your close combat skills. You pursed your lips at the thought of the Hatake, feeling even more enraged and annoyed. The said Shinobi was a nice guy, he was gentle and mannered with everyone but you. He treated you like his kid, bossing you around, requesting you to dig through the shelves of bookstores to find the limited edition of Icha Icha that was recently published. But you did not quit being his subordinate. Kakashi had everything that you needed to harness, from his skills to knowledge, and you would never let such a golden opportunity go wasted.

Being with him for two long years brought you many benefits and visible improvements, one of them being your patience. You were short-tempered and Kakashi was just the perfect tame to your boiling climate. The silver-haired veteran knew you were cantankerous on some days, like today, when you were having an involuntary sunbathing session, and would always be later than he usually would. Over the drenching months, you grew indifferent to his tardiness, adapted to his peculiar conscience of time, and no longer rambled when he arrived. He would come up with the most bizarre excuses to get away with it, and at first, you were furious about it, but you found them somewhat adorable now.

You smiled, wondering why you were recalling your moments with Kakashi when you were waiting for your date to come. You bit the inner side of your cheek when you realized your patience was running thin—it reminded you of your silver-haired senpai. Releasing a shaky breath, you calmed yourself down, assuring that you would apologize to the man that it was merely a misunderstanding with your parents that they signed you up for today. You rubbed the surface of the table with your fingers and let your thoughts carried you away at the moment, unconsciously drumming the rhythm of your favorite song—his favorite song that you grew accustomed to after years of the very special silver-haired occupying your day.

“You seem nervous.”

Your head perked at the unexpectedly familiar voice, “Kakashi-senpai?”

The silver-haired settled himself in the opposite seat with ease, “Good morning, Y/N.”

“What are you doing here?” You did not bother to greet him back properly due to the tremendous shock being registered into your system.

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to… to,” you came to a halt, fumbling with the hem of your shirt when you found it impossible to continue. It was embarrassing.

“Blind date?” He questioned, quirking a brow.

Your cheeks heated up in modesty, unable to answer his beseech.

“That seems like a yes,” Kakashi leaned back, enjoying your flustered state, “I’m here for a blind date, too.”

“A what?”

“A blind date,” he repeated without failing to lose his composure.

It took you several seconds to comprehend the whole situation, then you shifted in your chair, propping your elbows onto the table to hide your blush, “This is such an… interesting encounter. But I won’t change my mind.”

You were fairly absolute with the plan to turn the whole thing down, despite whoever was your date, despite it being Kakashi Hatake. You did not want to risk the bond that took you so long to form with him and the trust that he enlisted you upon. You could not.

“I also came resolute,” he made a simple, yet down-to-earth statement. Kakashi caught your eyes and challenged, “What do you want to do after a coffee date?”

“No,” you jerked away, “what are you saying? Are you okay, senpai?”

“We’re on a date and you still call me senpai?”

“Look, we’re not going to do this, we can’t, Kakashi,” you tried to explain but to no avail.

The silver-haired smugly smiled, “Good, Kakashi sounds much nicer.”

“I’m not joking,” you cleared your throat and glared at him.

“Neither am I, Y/N. I mean it.”

Your lips fell apart as the coherence in your mind shattered into bits and pieces. Kakashi silently observed the fleeting expressions that you made, waiting for your response.

“I don’t know,” you stuttered. You knew who Kakashi was and the tragedy of your occupation. The two of you did not deserve anyone’s love, for once that you held the chance of breaking their heart. You looked away from his eyes to conceal the wavering of your emotions, “I never thought about life in that way. I don’t need a man in my life, that’s what I’d like to believe. I don’t want anyone to feel battered when I’m gone.”

“I hate it to see those I love cry and mourn, too,” he mumbled. You listened attentively as though it was yourself confessing to the dark. Kakashi continued, “I only live for a certain amount of time but I have been constantly filling it with despair and loneliness. There were things that I want to do and people that I want to love, but because of my fear of hurting them, I didn’t. But after the massive loss that I’ve experienced, everything was different, I understood how painful regret actually is.”

Tears began to well in your eyes the more his words dropped. You balled your fists, blinking profusely to prevent the warm droplets from escaping. Kakashi noticed your quiet sobs, running his fingers over your trembling hands, loosening your grip, and interlacing your fingers with his. You released a heavy sigh and pulled both your hands back, wiping away your tears as quickly as when they fell and dampened the fabric of your jeans.

“You’re not at the bottom of agony when you lose someone important,” Kakashi breathed, “it’s when you feel empty after they’ve left and mourning on what you could’ve done when they were still with you.”

Your sobs eventually assuaged as you chewed on his words. The silver-haired distracted himself by stirring the liquid of his drink, but he was in no state to enjoy its taste. He already said everything he wanted to say, and the decision was now fully on your shoulders. But by your lack of response, he was sure that you did not see your relationship taking another form—the way that he wished. He abruptly stood up from his seat, fleeting on his feet, “Let’s forget about what’s happened. I mean I still respect you as my teammate, Y/N. Don’t forget our meeting tomorrow.”

“No-no, Kakashi-senpai, wait,” you moved, hastily shoving your hands in his direction, gripping his wrist like a vice. You hung your head low to avoid his investigating gaze as you spoke, “I do.”

His gears in his head turned, and Kakashi smiled with satisfaction, “You do what?”

Your heart was beating frantically in your chest, so fast that you felt its rapid pumps in your throat. You stuttered out, voice growing quieter the more you expressed, “I-I want to go out with you, senpai—”

“Drop the ‘senpai’ already,” he playfully hissed and you grinned, certain that you just made the best choice of your life. Kakashi leaned down and rested his chin on your shoulder blade, snuggling his face into your neck, “Thank you, Y/N. Thank you for letting me love you.”

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

Taglist: @dai-tsukki-desu @thenightfallingstar @iam-gaaras-loveintrest @animepickle7 @tirzamisu @rinnegankakashi

[ssahotchhner]

angel of spite

hi, i wrote a quick little something about the reader intentionally making hotch jealous as revenge. i hope you like it (: i'll be working on a few requests in my inbox next. i also finally made a masterlist which i'll link below!

masterlist

questions, comments, concerns

You supposed you should have known better than to spite Aaron for staying at the office too late, again. You had simply texted him that since he was going to be working late to not expect you to be there when he got home. Maybe that had been unfair to him, and you were normally so patient with his work schedule, but the last three nights in a row he had promised to be home for date night and continually cancelled last minute. Tonight, you had gotten angry when he texted you yet again, apologizing and saying he would be back late.

He tried calling you over an hour after you had sent the text message, having just then seen it in the throws of a difficult case, but you didn’t pick up. He tries to push down the flare of annoyance he feels, after all, this was the third time he had flaked on you. But still, you were acting like a child. He also knew part of the reason you were doing this was because you knew it would piss him off.

All he wanted at the end of a hard day was to see you waiting in bed for him with open arms. He put on a big show of being the dominant one in the relationship, but both of you knew Aaron became putty in your hands when you gently scratched at his scalp and whispered sweet nothings in his ear. You purposely took that away from him, knowing it was one of the only things that could get him through a tough work day. The more he sat at his desk trying to work, constantly checking his phone to see if you’d called or texted again (you hadn’t) the more angry he became. In fact, he stormed out of the BAU without saying goodbye to anyone without finishing his report.

He called you over and over again until you started sending him straight to voicemail. And so by the time he’s able to make an educated guess about what bar you’re in, his rage ripples off him in waves. He flashes his FBI badge to the bouncer to get inside without waiting in line, something he’s definitely not supposed to do, and heads up the elevator to the rooftop. Once up there, he heads straight to the bar. He scans the room quickly, but you’re nowhere to be found. Until, across the room, sparkling golden crescent moons dangled from someone’s ear. Aaron knew those earrings, he had bought them for you for your birthday this year. And standing in front of you is a broad, tall man. Not as tall as Aaron, but he was built a bit wider than Aaron, as if to make up for it. You sit on the arm of the couch, you look relaxed, your legs open just enough to get the man that was in front you salivating.

When your eyes settled on him, you couldn’t help the cocky smile that lit up your mouth. Unbridled fury filled his face when he saw the lawyer in front of you that was clearly wondering what you’d let him do to you in bed. You sigh as Aaron begins walking over you and turn to look at the lawyer, “I’m really sorry about this.” You say, cutting off whatever he was saying.

He frowns at you, “What?”

But Aaron was here now, “Hi baby,” You say sweetly, “I didn’t think you were going to make it tonight.”

He gives you a withering look as if to say I’ll deal with you later, before turning to the lawyer. “This is Ronnie, he’s a lawyer.”

Ronnie stared from Aaron, who was still silent, to you and back again. “And… who is this?” He refers to Aaron.

You open your mouth, but Aaron speaks first, “Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, Unit Chief of the BAU. I’m also her boyfriend.” He gives the lawyer a look that anyone in opposition to the unit chief had experienced many times over the course of his career.

I’m sorry, you were mouthing to Ronnie from behind Aaron’s shoulder. “She didn’t mention a boyfriend.” Ronnie says.

You sigh, leave it to you to pick the one guy in this room that would decide to challenge Aaron Hotchner rather than just apologizing and walking away, “Oh, you idiot.” You murmur.

Aaron tilts his head to the side in an almost predatory way, “Are you suggesting that I’m lying?”

“I’m suggesting that the lady obviously doesn’t want you since she didn’t mention you, Mister FBI.”

“Oh, God help us.” You shake your head and say into your lap and the next time you look up Aaron’s fist has connected with the man’s face and whiskey had splashed on the floor and your ankles. At that your eyes widen, “Aaron, what the fuck?” Aaron had given many men that flirted with you a firm talking to, sometimes escalated to yelling, but never in the entire time that you’d known him had Aaron physically hurt anyone who had advanced on you.

Aaron puts a firm hand on your wrist as a commotion begins to gather around the two of you and pulls you away. He doesn’t speak as he practically drags you out to the back door, down several flights of stairs and out another door behind the building. Once the cold night air hits you, you pull your wrist away from him, “What the hell did you do that for?”

“Did you want him to fuck you?” He practically growls.

“No,” You say, exasperated, “Aaron, we play this game all the time, you’ve never hit someone.”

“You’ve never deliberately gone out of your way to flirt with someone else.”

It was true, you supposed. You always let the men come up to you if they were interested, but you never were the one to initiate. Why would you when no one would compare to Aaron anyway? Today you had come here with specific intentions to speak with someone that would piss off Aaron. “You’re right,” You admit softly, “I’m sorry, I just… I wanted you to feel what I’ve been feeling.”

“Do you think I enjoy coming home late and not spending time with you?”

“Yes, I do! You love your job!”

“So you behave like a child because you’re jealous of my job?”

When he says it out loud like that, it sounds ridiculous and your eyes water, “Yes.” You say quietly, “Because I need to make sure you still want me just as much as your job.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, “Honey, of course I do, but I can’t control when I have more paperwork or a heavier caseload than usual.”

You feel deflated and stupid all of a sudden with the condescension that’s written so clearly on Aaron’s face. “Whatever, let’s just go home.”

“Sweetheart—“

“I don’t want to talk about it. Did you drive the SUV here?”

He looks at you hopelessly and then sighs, “Yes.”

You let him walk a couple of steps ahead of you the whole way, not wanting to let him hold your hand if you were close enough. He did open the car door for you, but you didn’t look at him as you climbed in.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t consider your feelings more this week when I cancelled our dates.” Aaron says. You remain quiet. “I’m nearly certain I’ll be off work this weekend. I’ll make it up to you then.”

You can’t help the roll of your eyes, “You have to stop making me promises that you can’t keep. We all know you’ll probably get a case in the middle of the weekend.”

His fingers flex on the steering wheel, “I don’t know what you want from me.”

“Aaron, I’m not even mad about you not being here all the time. I accepted that when we first started dating. I just hate when you promise you’ll do something and then you don’t do it. We planned this dinner weeks and weeks ago and you swore to me you’d get it off. And then we had to reschedule the reservation three nights in a row and you still didn’t show. Then you do show up, but only for the chance to be mad at me and condescend me which just tells me that you could have left work tonight if you wanted to. That’s why I’m mad.”

He supposed you were right. He had ended up leaving work early because he was upset with you. He knew that hadn’t been your intention, you had expected him to quietly stew in his anger until the next morning or until you had come home that night. But he had done it all the same, unable to bear even the idea of you flirting with another man in his absence. He figured it had to do with previously being cheated on because of his job, but he knew you would never do that. Knew that your relationship wasn’t fundamentally broken in that way, could tell by the way adoration still glowed in your eyes when he came home every night. But if he wasn’t careful, he wondered if you ever would. Just the thought had his knuckles whitening as he clenched the steering wheel. It was this thought that had made him punch that lawyer back at the bar.

When you arrive home, you get out of the car without waiting for Aaron, unlocking the door before he’s even out of the car and heading inside, heels in hand. Jack was sleeping at a friend’s house tonight as it was supposed to be date night. You don’t slam the bedroom door, but you close it as Aaron is walking down the hallway which in his mind is the same thing. He stops in the middle of the hallway, wondering if he should go in anyway. A minute later, he hears the intro to The Phantom of the Opera blaring from your bedroom.

He sighs, “Fuck.” He murmurs to himself and turns away from the room. Your mutual love of the theater had been something the two of you had bonded over early in the relationship. Aaron had learned quickly there was a specific stage performance of Phantom of the Opera that you turned to for comfort. If he ever came home to it playing, he knew you had had a bad day. Rarely, though, had you put it on after a fight with him.

He heads to the kitchen and turns on the electric kettle figuring he’d better come into the bedroom with your favorite tea if he was going to brave it at all. He sits down as he waits, resting his head in his hands. The two of you rarely ever fight and so Aaron is still trying to figure out how to do that with you in a productive way.

The kettle switches off and he pours the boiling water into your favorite mug, dunking your favorite tea bag before leaving it to steep. He takes a deep breath before picking up the mug and walking to the bedroom. When he enters, you don’t look at him until he stops by your nightstand, noticing he brought you tea. The gesture is sweet and so you sigh and pause the show.

“Hi.” You say softly to your boyfriend who’s still standing next to you.

“Hi.” He says gently, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” You say, and he knows it’s a test.

“For making promises I know I can’t keep. For leaving work early after I told you I wouldn’t be able to solely to punch whatever man wanted to sleep with you. For patronizing you.”

You cover your hand with his, “And I’m sorry for flirting to intentionally make you upset. You know I’d never actually do that, right?”

Aaron looks down at your hands, “I saw the way you had spread your legs for him, just a little bit, and I…” He sighs, “I never told you this, but my last wife cheated on me because I wasn’t around enough and seeing you like that, I guess I just…” He trailed off shaking his head, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have snapped like that.”

“Baby,” You say softly, eyes wide, “I’m so sorry, I had no idea… I never would’ve done that if I had known.”

“I know.” He gives you a small smile.

“Why don’t you come lay down and tell me about your day?”

His smile grows and he crawls into bed, laying his head in your lap and your fingers begin combing through his hair as he talks about the case.

[doreamu-san]

An analysis of SolKy

Hello! Thank you so much for clicking on this. A while ago, I was asked to do an essay explaining why people ship SolKy other than the whole rivals/opposites attract reason, and I got a lot of feedback stating it was useful for newcomers to the ship! As a result I’ve decided to post this on tumblr, but just on the ship’s tag as to not bother uninterested people.

A couple of disclaimers before I begin. This is firstly just my own opinion, so whilst it makes sense for me, other shippers may disagree with my points. I’m also not claiming they are canon because they are not. But I do hope it’ll give some insight into why some people like me enjoy them together.

Even once you’ve read this essay, you can still dislike SolKy. This isn’t an essay stating you have to ship them.

This will be extremely long as I basically cover every single interaction they’ve ever had with each other since I know some people sort of gloss over their dialogue, so grab yourself a drink, get comfy, and I hope you enjoy reading!

(Last edited: 09/05/2021. This will be updated again when Strive releases!)

How this all began

If we’re starting right at the beginning, it’s common knowledge that Ky and Sol weren’t exactly on great terms and often clashed most of the time due to their conflicting beliefs. Ky saw the world in terms of black and white, and had very strict rules on what constituted as right and wrong. Sol seemed to think differently and went against that, which was a stark contrast compared to the other Order members at the time.

Considering that they were in fact, in the middle of a war, you would think that generally people would be willing to put their differences aside and work together.

But Sol wasn’t like everyone else, going off and doing his own thing instead of actually listening to orders, so it’s understandable why Ky found him rather irritating.

However, Ky did grow curious of Sol. Obviously curiosity does not equate to love, but it is the basis of Ky wanting to become more friendly with and know more about Sol. There seemed to be something that Sol knew but Ky didn’t, but how was that possible..? As a result, despite how infuriating he could be, Ky sought to seek out the truth and so fought him for answers.

In regards to why exactly they fight (aside from the fact that this is a fighting game), Ishiwatari wrote something called ‘Hostility is Akin to Love’ right above a picture of them fighting:

Hostility is akin to love Thinking of your opponent’s actions to fight, Reading your opponent’s inner thoughts to fight, Planning attacks that will hit your opponent to fight, And then transmitting your thoughts with those attacks, The more you think of your own advantage, at the same time you think of your opponent, In the instant you mix with your opponent, a passionate feeling arises, and blood boils, Reality is hurt, and you wound your opponent, Hostility is akin to love. ��� Guilty Gear Isuka Mook

It states how fighting someone can be close to feelings of love because you have to think about what your opponent is doing, as well as how you’re going to respond to your opponent. Overtime, you start to memorise how your opponent thinks, and as a result you’ll know them on a deeper level.

So considering the above, this explains how even though they weren’t on friendly terms, they still formed a bond with one another.

Now we’ve established how exactly their relationship started, and why Ky was curious about Sol in the first place, let’s look at things from Sol’s perspective.

Sol’s attitude towards Ky

We know that Sol was also pretty annoyed by Ky, which was totally justifiable given the extreme way in which Ky thought the world worked. But Sol didn’t exactly dislike Ky.

In order to provide some evidence that Sol cares about Ky, let’s cover that infamous scene everyone likes to reference which shows Sol crying over Ky’s dead body:

Sol:     "I came to pick you up." Ky:      "Always coming late... you never could fix that..." Sol:     "You..." Ky:      "As to be expected... until the very end... I could never beat you..." Sol:     "Don't say anything!" Ky:      "I have... a request..." Sol:     "I said shut up!" Ky:      "After Commander Kliff... carry on... the Holy Order..." Sol:     "Stop it... that's your job!" Ky:      "Please... promise me..." Sol:     "Dammit..." Ky:      "If it's you... you can do..." Sol:     "Hey.... what's wrong. Hey! KYYYYYY!" — Guilty Gear XX Drama CD Side Red, Battle of Rome — Deathmatch

A lot of people bring this quote up when discussing SolKy and yes, it does show Sol cares about Ky considering how Sol never really cares about anyone in general, but the fact that Ky’s death managed to make him emotional shows what an impact Ky had on him. There are however more quotes that show Sol’s feelings.

There’s this scene in the GG Xtra manga, Ky and Sol get attacked by a mountain-sized gear. In order to save them, Sol rips off his limiter and Dragon Installs. This scene is very poignant when you take into consideration what Sol said in After Story A:

Sol:     "Back during the Crusades, before we met... Kliff told me this rumour about a prodigy swordsman." Sol:     "If you couldn't guess, that was you. I didn't give a shit at the time..." Sol:     "But then I saw you on the battlefield." Sol:     "I saw someone out there who surpassed all of my expectations. Or perhaps I should say 'something.'" Sol:     "No openings, no wasted movements, no carelessness, no hesitation, no embarrassment, not even any honor. No chivalry or mercy. A being unaffected by emotion." Sol:     "You were a killing machine. Taking down gears with brutal efficiency." Ky:      "...That was a long time ago." Sol:     "I'm not done talking. I've seen the face of the 'serious' Ky." Sol:     "Then one day, you challenged me." Sol:     "You wanna know what I thought right then?" Ky:      "..." Sol:     "I was afraid. Hell, I was scared shitless." Sol:     "'He figured out that I'm a Gear, and he's come to kill me.' That's what I thought." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, After Story A

Sol admits that he knows just how scary Ky can be. Since Ky was extremely against Gears, if Ky found out that Sol was a Gear, then Ky would have most likely attempted to kill him. But Sol knew this and was willing to die for Ky’s sake, and transformed anyway:

Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      (Really... that's really..) Ky:      (That's really you!?) Ky:      "SOL!" Sol:     "Shut it..." Sol:     "I didn't do it..." Sol:     "To help you out—...." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

Going off on a bit of a tangent from Sol’s feelings, but I just want to point out Ky’s state of mind at this point. Ky in this time period was still very anti-Gear, as it was only through this moment and his encounters with Solaria and Dizzy later that made him change his way of thinking. It took a long time for Ky to accept Gears, and he still had the remains of that mindset in him when he had Sin, as he refused to make eye contact with him because Ky was ashamed of having a Gear child. So the fact that Ky knew Sol was a Gear, believed all Gears were evil, but still decided to accept Sol into his life and wanted to support him regardless of that, is interesting.

Back to Sol, another small quote that manages to show Sol’s feelings towards Ky is this:

Sol:     (Maybe I'll finish them off while I'm at it...) Sol:     (But that would mean breaking my promise to Ky...) — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 2

Now, Sol doesn’t care about 99% of what other people do as long as they don’t get in his way. The fact that he intends to keep his promise with Ky suggests that he holds Ky in somewhat ‘high’ regards compared to others.

There’s also this quote that shows Sol is thinking about Ky in Overture:

The frustrations of the man wielding a giant sword were piling day by day, and a familiar face appeared in his head. What’s he up to right now? “Hmph, whatever…” With a feeling of self-contempt, Sol Badguy shook his head. What am I getting sentimental for? — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #0 “Noise”

And when Sol encounters Raven later on after seeing Ky incapacitated, Raven points out how he can tell Sol is upset, meaning Sol’s not really doing a good job of pretending he’s still indifferent to Ky.

Raven: "You're as ruthless as ever, huh, monster?" Sol:      "Look who's talking." Raven: "Can you not put down your sword and talk? I understand you're upset with Ky Kiske defeated." Sol:      "I'll ask your corpse for answers." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #5 "Gaze of the Chronicle"

Sol’s thoughts about Ky become even clearer during his confrontation with Sin when he’s under the influence of Valentine, where Sol defends Ky’s actions and tries to make Sin understand Ky is not 100% at fault:

Sin:     "Can you see it? Can you feel it? This is my real power. This is my mother's strength." Sol:     "But it's light. It must be from your father." Sin:     "Shut up! Don't ever mention him!" Sin:     "He abandoned my mother and me using justice as an excuse!" Sin:     "Who cares about the King!? Who cares about the people!? That man, and that Kingdom, not one of them can protect a damn thing!" Sol:     "I don't give a damn about your family." Sol:     "But you know what, Ky may be a stubborn idiot, but at least he's true to his beliefs." Sol:     "A punk like you is still alive thanks to his justice." — Guilty Gear 2: Overture, #15 "Roaring Compass"

Okay, that’s the pre-Xrd era for Sol done, now to focus on Ky’s pre-Xrd’s emotions.

Ky’s attitude towards Sol

We’ve established earlier that Ky was annoyed by Sol and disliked him in the Crusades. However, afterwards it seems as if Ky saw himself as friends with Sol:

Ofc1:   "All of them seem to have been destroyed by... fire?" Ofc2:  "Yeah... why could that be?" Ky:      "........" Ky:      "Change our course!" Ky:      "Head towards the Eastern United States!" Ofc1:   "May I ask why, Chief Ky?" Ky:      "To meet an old friend." — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 4: Former Friends

We know that Ky outwardly expressed his first signs of liking Sol when Sol stole the Fuuenken and Ky chased after him, only for Sol to win in their duel, and Ky says this:

Ky:      "Promise me one thing..." Sol:     "..What?" Ky:      "We'll meet again." Sol:     "Hmph... Well, if fate brings us together..." Ky:      "..That's fine." — Guilty Gear XX Accent Core Plus R, Sol Badguy Path 1

It’s pretty interesting that Ky wanted to see Sol again despite how Sol never used to listen to his orders, and how Sol never even tried to act like what the Order expected their men to act like (chivalrous, putting the people first, etc). It at least shows us that Ky saw possibly the potential of becoming friends with Sol. And Sol didn’t even say straight up ‘no’ or ‘in your dreams’ or whatever Badguy-esque notion he usually would’ve done, so we can assume he doesn’t mind seeing Ky again either.

Then they don’t speak to each other properly for 5 years until the tournament that Testament holds, though they have probably ran into each other a few times within those years.

A common misconception people have is that during those 5 years, Ky was obsessed with Sol and would constantly try to find him. Obviously, this is not true. Ky was busy with IPF stuff and Sol was hunting Gears down.

However, it’s not as if Ky completely forgot about Sol — he was just probably at the back of his mind, and Ky does admit that he has been chasing after Sol the most more than anyone else:

Ky:      (Waiting outside for me when I left the ship... burning red flames. Soon, they seem to take the shape of a man... and he appears before me. Yes... it's him. The one I've been after the most... it's him.) — Guilty Gear X Drama CD, Vol. 1: Track Seven — Crater

There’s also these two other quotes:

Ky:      (Sol...) Ky:      (Why are you so stubborn about doing things alone?) — Guilty Gear Xtra, Chapter 5: Unspeakable Thoughts

You can interpret this in two ways: either Ky wants to help Sol out and/or he’s curious as to why Sol always does stuff alone.

And then there’s this:

Ky:      "Maintaining peace, law, and order. That is my duty." Sol:     "Whatever..." Ky:      "You and I, we are cut from the same cloth." Ky:      "How long are you going to keep that facade?" Sol:     "..." Ky:      "Answer me Sol!" — Guilty Gear Judgment, Sol and Ky Ending

Being ‘cut from the same cloth’ is quite a strong statement. The phrase means that Ky thought he and Sol were similar somehow, and that he shared something with Sol. Regardless, the ‘how long are you going to keep that facade’ at least shows that Ky knows Sol is intentionally acting distant/rough/etc. and that its not actually who he is.

Jumping to pre-Overture, just before Ky gives Sin to Sol, Ky is in a really depressive state due to all of the stress he’s been going through. This leads Dizzy to contact Sol. The fact that Sol is called means that Dizzy knows that Sol is possibly the only person who can help Ky at that point, which puts some emphasis on just how much Sol means to Ky or at least affects him.

Before I move onto Xrd, there’s this part where Ky gives his son to Sol. This proves he trusts Sol so much considering he was asking him to take care of Sin for a long period of time.

Ky:      “Sol....I want to request something...” Sol:     “...hnn?” Ky:      “My son....Sin..can you take care of him for a while?” Sol:     “...what did you say?” Ky:      “I know it’s unreasonable but...I still want to ask...” — GG2: Overture Story, Sol's Story

The Xrd era (because it is so long, it needs its own section)

The Xrd era is extremely interesting to me, because Sol and Ky have some more in-depth conversations, and boy, do they have a lot of conversations.

Focusing on Sol first, theres a scene in REV where Sol asks Ky why he isn’t interested in his past:

Sol:     "Why don't you ask me already?" Ky:      "Ask you what?" Sol:     "About my past." Ky:      "I can ask you?" Sol:     "I guarantee, it won't be interesting." Sol:     "Every other word that came out of your mouth was 'Duel me,' or 'I challenge you!' You were so eager to fight and..." Ky:      "........" — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

Given that Ky was constantly pestering Sol about his background in the past, it makes sense why Sol is suddenly a bit confused about Ky’s sudden change in behaviour. But it also shows that Sol wants Ky to know about his past. After ~170+ years of being alive, Sol wants to finally open up to someone again, and he specifically chose Ky for this. It shows in the very least Sol trusts Ky and knows him well enough to decide to let him know about who he used to be.

And then Ky says this, which is basically him just showing Sol how much he cares and understands him:

Ky:      "Sol. Of course I have an interest in your past." Ky:      "But wanting to understand someone and trying to understand everything is completely different." Ky:      "Right now, Sol Badguy's future matters much more to me, than Frederick's past." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 03, Sense A

There’s also this scene in SIGN:

Ky:      "I don't know your history." Ky:      "I don't know if you had friends once, or if you fell in love, or why you burn with such hatred for That Man and the Gears..." Ky:      "I don't even know your real name." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "But I do know a great deal about a man named Sol Badguy." Ky:      "Blinded by vengeance, he lost sight of himself, and now he runs from the truth that frightens him." Sol:     "...Say that again." Ky:      "Tomorrow always comes, Sol." Sol:     "..!" Ky:      "If tomorrow promises to be cold and dark, I cannot stand idly by... even if I know my efforts will come to nothing." Sol:     "... The self-righteous apple doesn't fall far from the tree." Ky:      "I don't expect the world to change tomorrow, but I do hope that, today, perhaps my words will reach you." Ky:      "Sol..." Ky:      "I'll be waiting for you. We'll all be waiting for you. Sin, Dizzy..." Ky:      "Once all this is over... come home." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

Three things to take away from this:

Ky admits that he doesn’t know anything about Sol’s background, but that he knows a lot about the current Sol, and then goes on to explain how Sol acts. Which to expand on, means that although Ky used to care about Sol’s past, he doesn’t really mind about it anymore because Sol’s past won’t really change much who Sol is to Ky now. Also, the part where Ky explains how Sol was ‘blinded by vengeance,’etc. shows that Ky knows Sol’s current personality well enough in order to be able to distinguish his behaviours. Which is interesting because nobody has been around Sol long enough to be able to know him really well unlike Ky (Aria and Asuka count too, but they were around Sol when he was Frederick, and Sol seems pretty adamant on the idea that he’s a separate person from Frederick.)

‘Come home’ is pretty significant, as it implies that it’s almost like Ky is saying home is with Sin, Dizzy and the Valentines, and so when Sol is done getting revenge on That Man, instead of letting Sol just wander off alone, Ky wants Sol to be a family with them.

The fact that says Ky says ‘I’ll be waiting for you’ separate from ‘we’ll all be waiting for you’ implies that either Ky’s want to wait for Sol is somehow different from everyone else’s or it’s just for the sake of being dramatic. I interpreted this in both ways, as it seems like Ky knows that Sol treats him differently compared to others. So in a sense, by Ky emphasising that he’ll be waiting for Sol, it might make Sol more likely to ‘come home’.

There’s also a scene that shows Ky knows Sol’s personality well:

Ky:      "When I look at you, Sol, I see a man who is afraid." Sol:     "... What?" Ky:      "It became clear when I watched you caring for Sin." Ky:      "You work very hard to keep everyone at arm's length." Sol:     "..." Sol:     "I got Gear blood in my veins, and it ain't friendly. It's always there in the back of my head, whispering that I oughta just destroy all of this." Sol:     "The only way I'm gonna get some closure is tracking down That Man and beating some answers out of him." Sol:     "And if he doesn't have 'em..." Sol:     "Then maybe there really isn't a good way to live." Ky:      "That's why you close your heart off." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

There’s also this:

Ky:      "Not all people have the strength to stand on their own." Sol:     "..." Ky:      "If only life were simple, and the right path was laid out before each of us..." Ky:      "But even then some would leave it, and some would struggle with walking it. Such is human nature..." Ky:      "The truth is that no path will ever be 'right' for all people. Each of us must find the one we are meant to walk--and sometimes that is where none exists." Ky:      "That is what I learned from you." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 08, Hope A

This just shows that Ky actually learnt something from Sol. Which I think is important because Ky is someone who always used to be very strict to his ideals. The fact that he learnt something from Sol that had an impact on his mindset means that Sol actually managed to have a great impact on Ky.

There’s this scene where Sol finds out that Aria isn’t dead when he confronts That Man, and he has somewhat of a mini mental breakdown. So Ky excuses them from the room, and goes outside to talk with Sol:

Ky:      "Sol. The grudge you hold is certainly not something that can be taken lightly. And, whatever answer you think you've found, I doubt any of us will be able to stop you from seeing it through..." Ky:      "But we have very little time left. Right now, we need the Gear Maker's help." Ky:      "So, I'm begging you... Just for now. Why don't you stay outside with me." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Chapter 06, Cause A

The last line that Ky says is interesting because it’s obvious that he’s just trying to calm Sol down, and Ky thinks that if he stays with Sol outside for a bit, he’ll be able to help him calm down. Furthermore, Ky thought it was more necessary to pause everything and help Sol out rather than keep listening to the plans of what their next course of action would be.

Ky does have the habit of comforting Sol. One of the more significant moments is whenever Sol refers to himself as a monster:

Ky:      "Yes, he took away some of what makes you human, but that doesn't mean he altered your mind or your soul." Sol:     "So what?" Ky:      "I want to believe that you'll fight for the people of this world." Sol:     "Are we seriously having this conversation?" Sol:     "Look, kid. I'm a monster. I'm here to do two things: Destroy That Man, and kill all the other Gears." — Guilty Gear Xrd -SIGN-, Story Mode: Chapter 04, Kaleidoscope B

To expand a little on Sol’s mindset, it’s common knowledge that Gears were generally in the past regarded as akin to monsters. Now we don’t have any solid proof Sol is referring to himself as a monster because he’s a Gear, or because he feels guilt about the whole Gear Project, etc. But we do know it’s something he’s affected by given that he constantly refers to himself as one.

So the fact that Ky constantly reassures him that he’s not one, and that Ky didn’t treat him differently after finding out he was a Gear, must be comforting to know.

Then at the end of REV, there’s the scene where Daryl is about to shoot Sol, because he (quite rightly) doesn’t trust the fate of the world to be left to Sol. And so, the kids get beamed up, but Ky asks to be left behind:

Ky:      "But, if you plan on targeting Sol, then you must leave me behind, as well." Daryl: "What!?" Zappa:"60 seconds until impact..!" Sol:     "What the hell are you doing?! Stay with Sin!" Ky:      "I am well aware that this is a one in a million chance..." Ky:      "But, if I survive at the expense of my dear friend, then there is little reason left for my ruling this world as king." — Guilty Gear Xrd -REVELATOR-, Story Mode: Final Chapter, Fireworks

This was a really odd moment because Ky’s life was never in danger at that moment. If he had been sent on board Daryl’s ship as originally planned, he would have been safe. But Ky intentionally chose to risk his life, and its kind of startling because Ky has always put his people above everything. There were times when he put the people above his own family, like when he kept his family a secret instead of coming out with the truth about them in order to remain as King to protect his people.

So Ky suddenly going ‘I would rather die with Sol than take care of my people’ is really extreme. Also Ky was willing to leave his family behind, which is even more extreme. So this just really proves how highly Ky regards Sol considering how he would rather die with him than live without him.

Some concluding notes

I think Sol and Ky’s personalities do work really well. Perhaps not in the Crusade era, but if we take a look at the Xrd era, they have shown to get along and have deep conversations with one another that they both enjoy. They know each other extremely well; they know how to support one another when life gets a bit too much and they’re also capable of telling one another when the other is wrong.

Sol teaches Ky that life isn’t as simple as it seems, and that (figuratively speaking) he shouldn’t stick exactly to the textbook. He’s able to see under that perfect image Ky puts up about him being able to cope with everything, acting as a source of stability when you consider how Sol has been the only person who’s been around Ky since the very beginning.

Throughout all of Ky’s life, he’s been under so much pressure. From being Commander in the Crusades, to becoming the Head of the International Police Force, to becoming King. In every situation, people are constantly relying on him, and his environment is changing rapidly. But despite everything, Sol has always remained the same. He looks the same, acts the same, etc. Ky can rely on Sol and trust Sol. He’s like a source of stability for Ky in those hectic times.

And Ky provides something similar to Sol too, given how often he ran into Sol time and time again. When you’ve been alive for so long, it’d feel reassuring in the very least to see a familiar face. And Sol does seem to get less annoyed each time they meet each other again, considering like how in Overture he voluntarily went to go see Ky after seeing himself on a wanted poster.

Ky also gives Sol the chance to open up to people again and form connections with them, something that Sol has been reluctant to do. Sol needs someone to care about him, and Ky proves that by constantly reassuring him and never giving up on trying to help Sol, even though he kept getting pushed away.

They may not be canon but I really do love how they work together. Yes it’s true some people may like them because they are ‘rivals’and seeing rivals get together and bicker is great, but actually I think when people focus more on how much they support and rely on each other, as well as the fact that they do get along, them being in a relationship is more convincing.

Whilst this essay focused on their canon interactions, there’s plenty of other great material out there. For instance, the Guilty Gear 4KomaKINGS manga provides plenty of great SolKy interactions (like the time Ky wanted to have a friendship diary with Sol, only to get rejected and start crying about it. Of course, take these interactions with a pinch of skepticism considering the frivolity of the source material.)

And that, was my very long SolKy essay. I hope you’ve enjoyed reading! Though you may not have agreed with everything I have said, you still continued reading, and I am grateful for that. Thank you for showing such enthusiasm and loving this franchise.

[hmslusitania]

I see we're going ape over buddie and Choices tonight so

Yknow in 2.07, when Shannon comes back and her and Eddie have their first scene together? The argument at the end, after Eddie says it wouldn't be a good idea for her to see Christopher bc she left them, she says she needed him, she needed a husband and a co-parent - and "I needed someone to have my back!"

To which EDDIE says, "I always had your back"

*insert Incredibles "coincidence? I think NOT" gif here*

(Also side note, I do like that the show doesn't try to sugarcoat what Shannon did being messed up, and that Eddie's own actions weren't really the right thing either[thinking about his conversation with Buck where he says he got to pretend he left for a noble cause even tho he was running], and that it was just a sticky situation that neither of them were equipped to handle in any way, and snowballed. I do kind of wish we could've gotten post-divorce Shannon and Eddie and Christopher interactions, figuring out how they fit together, if at all, bc I like those intricate and messy situations but I could see how that might get too close to retreading old ground re: Michael and Athena's divorce. But I do hate how ive seen the fandom like. Seem to oversimplify things with Shannon sometimes? And make her the ultimate villain, and Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, Ever)

Hi Anon!

The decision to have Buck and Eddie's first bonding moment end with "You can have my back any day" and "or, y'know, you could have mine" only to then six episodes later find out that at least a contributing factor to Eddie's marriage dissolving was that he "didn't have her back" is like. Such a galaxy brain chaos move for them to take, honestly. Like?? They could've had the phrasing be literally anything in 2x07 but instead they had it directly echo Buck and Eddie in 2x01. What was the reason? Why did they do this?

As for the rest of your ask:

(gosh this got long and, uh, opinionated. It is Not Pretty below the cut)

One of the things I really liked about Eddie Begins is that we did get to see him at the beginning of his journey in being Chris's dad because it gives us an opportunity to appreciate how amazingly he's grown as a father. Like, he didn't start out as a perfect dad and he was definitely kind of lost in the woods at the beginning there when it came to the whole "how do I parent" thing. And before Eddie Begins, we'd only ever seen the end result of the growth he's gone through, where he really is a fantastic dad whose son is basically his entire reason for being. Before Eddie Begins, we get to hear him say things like "I left first" and "I've failed that kid more times than I can count but I love him enough to never stop trying" but we kinda have to take that on faith? Because we hadn't actually seen him be anything besides a good dad until we saw his Begins episode. (And even then in his begins it's like "area man in his early 20s unsure how to care for small child while also coping with PTSD and a toxic support system" which like. yeah. no shit. there's one hell of a learning curve there)

The thing about Eddie and Shannon as a couple and as parents that always gets to me is that they were so fucking young. We don't know exactly how old Eddie is in the show, but we can guesstimate pretty safely that he's around the same age as Ryan which would make him between 23 and 24 when Chris was born, and it seems reasonable to believe Shannon was around the same age. It's also a pretty common reading in the fandom -- although I'm not sure how much canon support there is for it because we really, really don't know anything about their relationship pre-Christopher unless I'm forgetting something -- that they got married because Shannon got pregnant and that was the Done Thing. And when you're 23-24, baby on the way, freshly married, that is just like. So much. It sure as hell ruined my parents' relationship when they did that exact thing, and then they disliked each other until they were 27 and then they got divorced, and no one was happier than me about it, I have to tell you.

Back to the show, I can only give you my impressions, obviously, but the impression I have always gotten from the whole "I left too" conversation and the context that goes into it and the different behaviours we see exhibited by the characters is that Eddie "left" first and it comes across to me that he was basically an early twenty-something kid running scared from the abstract concept of being a father in general, and then when he was forced home by an honourable discharge, and was confronted with the reality of Christopher, he managed to step the fuck up and become Christopher's dad. It's there in 2x02, right? "Oh, you've got a kid? I love kids!" "I love this one." Eddie doesn't strike me as a Swiss Army Knife all-purpose Dad(tm) the way Bobby is. Eddie is Christopher's dad. (and like, of course, he's obviously moved by kids when he's on a call, we've seen that enough times to know that if there's a child who can even glancingly remind him of Christopher, Eddie's sense of self-preservation goes out the window, and I love that about him as heart-stopping as it can be in practice)

Shannon, on the other hand, didn't run from the idea of being a mother -- at first. When she left, it wasn't from the abstract. She left Chris (and "gave up" on Eddie, thanks Helena). She was not running from a concept, she was running from a reality. I think Shannon is a fascinating character to include in a television show as a side character, because she really isn't a one note character. Like, she was unarguably a bad mother, and from what we saw, she was a questionable romantic partner to have (but as you said, anon, Eddie was also not 100% the best romantic partner when he was with Shannon either; their entire relationship so far as I can tell was built on sexual chemistry which, uh, super does not sustain a relationship), but she also seems to have been a devoted daughter? I mean, yeah, it's entirely possible that her mom being sick was a convenient excuse to bail -- and obviously she didn't come back after her mom died, and didn't, y'know, contact her son or husband in the interim, so yes, I can see that being a valid way to read the situation. I don't think she's the Ultimate Evil, because she strikes me as a very human character in all the ways that people are more often than not really fucking flawed.

But then we get back to the actual break-up scene. The first time I watched it (and second, and third; then the fourth time the person I was watching with was like "I mean, sure, but it could also be read in this light") her "I'm just learning how to be someone's mother" speech really bothered me? Partly because it was the abstraction of it, right? Eddie doesn't like kids, he likes Christopher, and Shannon sort of had the inverse journey there, I guess, where it went from she didn't know how to be Christopher's mother, to she didn't know how to be a mother. And that speech bothered me because it always sounded to me like she was bailing again. She begged Eddie to let her back into Christopher's life (guilt? I guess?) and like, straight up bribed him with sex which was sure a choice, and then decides -- for a second time -- that she's out. It sounded, to me, she was handing Eddie papers and maybe, in a few years, possibly, once she'd had "time" to "figure out how to be someone's mother" she would try again. Just like she had in the interim between leaving when Christopher was little and the time of season 2.

And like, that could totally be a misunderstanding of the scene and what she was saying. It's what I took away from it, but that could very well be influenced by the fact I was raised by divorced parents and my dad had custody and if you count up all the time I spent with either parent when I was a minor, I was predominantly raised by my father and have had an especially tempestuous relationship with my mother that is mostly (sometimes) repaired now that I'm in my late twenties and have not lived with her since I was sixteen.

Back to the show, and to your comment that the fandom tends to treat Shannon like the Ultimate Evil and act like Eddie Did Nothing Wrong, I mean. Yeah. Fandom as a rule tends to shirk nuance. We're all fools here on the internet sitting in our blue industrial waste container crying about a wee woo show. I personally believe a more nuanced take on that might be that Eddie has shown a great capacity to learn from his mistakes (sometimes to make fun, shiny, new ones, but for the most part, just like ends up doing better the next time) and Shannon did not show that capacity in the time we knew her.

I think, depending on what they did with it, there was potential for an interesting storyline if they'd played through the divorce. I don't think it would've been rehashing ground covered by Michael and Athena's divorce because I can't see Eddie and Shannon having reached a point of amicability and friendship. The only thing we know they had in common was Christopher, and frankly, when you boil it down, the ways they engaged with Christopher as a person were so disparate that -- to me -- it really didn't seem like they had Christopher in common when you get right down to it. But I wouldn't have wanted to see Christopher and Eddie dragged through an ugly divorce process. They deserve better than that.

There's also a conversation to be had about Shannon's blatant ableism towards her own son, but that is extremely not my lane since I am not disabled myself. But even from an outside perspective, basically their entire parking lot conversation in Haunted, uh, haunts me with it's repugnance and the fact that instead of calling her on any of it, Eddie "Chronically touch starved" Diaz's response was to kiss her? Gosh golly do I wish that was one of the mistakes he learned from properly instead of finding a new, shiny version.

ANYWAY this got long, tl;dr (although if you clicked on the read more, you probably read it) version is No, Shannon is not the Ultimate Evil, she's a shitty mom not a demon in a skin suit and a pretty yellow sundress; and No, Eddie is not a flawless human who's never done wrong in his life but holy fuck is he trying and he'd be the first person to tell you he's made mistakes (and often has been); and no, sorry, I don't want to see the divorce storyline play out because we probably would've had to see either Eddie Bashing, Shannon Redemption, or Shannon turning up again like a cardboard cut out of a cartoon villain the way Eva did and I want to be witness to exactly zero of those things.

[fawad-khan]

Together Always

A/N: hey guys, this is a part of @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh 's 1k writing challenge, congratulations again, queen K! I hope you enjoy. I’m so sorry for the delay hvfuuvcurv, i hope you enjoy! This is my longest yet, if this flops, i will be angy :)

Masterlist

Pairing- Harry Holland x reader

Warning- some angst maybe? mentions of hospital, nothing too gory, maybe swearing here and there

Word Count- 3.5k+ (woohoo!)

Prompt- “Marriage? Pass”

Prompt will be in bold

Summary- you finally realize why people choose to go ahead and take a long term committment with each other.

(At age 10)

You were sitting on a park bench alone, crying by yourself. No one was around, for you were sitting in a quiet and empty part of the park. Your head was bent to your knees, which you had brought closer to your chest. You were so engrossed in your own sorrow that you did not notice two identical faces catching your sight and walking towards you, wondering what was wrong.

"Hey, what happened? Are you alright?" You heard a voice in front of you and looked up, seeing two twin boys standing in front of you. One of them had curly hair, while the other had straighter hair.

"Well no, I'm not in a really good mood right now." You replied meekly.

"Do you want to talk about it?" The curly haired boy asked. You let out a sniffle and wiped your wet eyes. They sat down beside you, the curly haired boy sitting on your left and patting your hand for comfort, and the straight haired boy sitting by your right.

"Well, uh it's just that my mommy an-and my daddy they do-don't want to live with each o-other anymore and are getting a d-divorce."

"Oh, uh that's really sad to hear. Do you know exactly why this happened though? Like do they fight or anything?"

"Harry, don't ask her all that! She will tell us if she wants to."

"It's ok, uh they kind of fight a lot everyday and I overhear them saying they cannot live like this and all, I guess." You said, smiling sadly. "Now I have to decide who I want to live with. It's gonna be a bit hard for me." You sniffled again, making the boy named Harry (you guessed when the other boy called him) rub your arm in comfort.

"Well if you ever have any difficulties, we don't live very far from here. You can always come and maybe live with us, if our mum agrees with it."

"No no, I don't wanna burden you like that, but uh sounds nice!"

"Oh and I'm Harry, he's my twin Sam." He said, pointing to the straight haired boy.

"I'm (y/n)." You said, shaking their hands. Little did your 10 year old self know at the time that their friendship would make a tremendous difference in your life.

----

(6 years have passed)

It has been 6 years. You decided to finally move in with your dad, partly because he was kind of a better parent to you and partly because his house was near the Hollands, which made it easier for you to see the twins more often.

Ever since that day, you had become great friends with Harry and Sam. Of course, through them, you also met Tom and Paddy and their parents, and they were the sweetest people you ever met. They helped you go through your parents divorce, as it is always very difficult for a small child to go through such things alone. They were like a second family to you. Tom kind of became like a protective older, while Paddy was like a little brother.

Harry and Sam were your best friends, of course. They never failed to always keep you happy and amused, especially when they did a lot of silly things on purpose.

Harry never failed to pull you out of your blues. No matter what it was, he always managed to get a smile out of you every single day. He made you feel warm and fuzzy every time it was just the two of you together. You often accompanied him whenever he would do some casual photoshoots, as you were a great help to him, giving valuable tips, helping him choose a perfect scene, etc.

Of course, as you grew older, puberty was obviously very much favourable to all of you. Harry was no longer the cute little boy with a baby voice, you were no longer the small girl with a doll face. Harry grew more tall, his muscular features become more and more prominent. His voice had become deeper, which you found pleasant to hear all day long. Not to mention, he was more attractive as well, so naturally he often attracted the attention of girls in school which often made you jealous.

Sam of course grew up to be a very charming and handsome lad as well, quite like his twin. His cooking skills had improved a lot too. But, the bond between the two of you was more platonic. You felt a deeper connection with Harry, something more than friendship. You were still wary of a long term committed relationship, given that you had gone through your parents divorce, but that did not stop you from daydreaming about what it would be like if you and Harry were together.

----

(Age 17)

It was your senior prom and your date had turned out to be a bitch, deciding to never show up at your house to pick you up. He had messaged you about having caught the flu, and right when you were about to just give up and stay in at home instead, Sam insisted that you come to prom anyway. What you did not know was Harry had not managed to get a date, so he just decided to show up solo. He had been hoping to ask you, but seeing that you got a date already, he decided to just go by himself.

So when he saw you alone and dateless, looking absolutely impeccable and breathtaking in your body hugging purple dress that ended above your knees and hair opened save for a small braid in the side, he decided to take this chance and go for it.

You had seen him too, looking so handsome in his tuxedo. How you were mentally wishing that you both would be together instead. The way his curls flopped despite his best efforts to keep them tidy only made him seem hotter in your eyes.

"What happened? Todd ain't here?" He asked, referring to your date.

"Na, he's had a bout of flu, at least that's what he says."

"What do you mean by that?"

"I dunno, I guess I just kinda had this coming you know, maybe I'm not meant to have a nice date to a dance and have fun. Ah, just my luck."

"Come on, any guy would be lucky to be with you."

"Yeah right." At that moment, his eyes fell on a couple who had entered the ballroom, and when he realised who it was, his blood boiled and his fingers were clenched as he tried to control the urge to just go and punch him.

You could feel him tense up beside you, and looking at his face, you could sense something wasn't right. His face held an agitated expression.

"What's the matter, Harry?" You asked, concerned.

"I hate to tell you this, but uh looks like Todd is in perfect health." He mumbled.

"Wait whatever do you mean?"

"See for yourself." He pointed you in the direction where he was looking, and to your immense surprise, there was Todd all suited up, getting quite cozy with some random chick who was in a dress slightly shorter than the prescribed dress code. You could feel your blood boiling. The audacity of the motherfucker to lie like this and then just show up like that, you couldn't control the rage building in you.

Before Harry could stop you, you stormed your way towards the couple, who were now making out in a corner and ripped them apart. The chick had barely uttered a word when you gave him one tight slap.

"Fucking bastard, so this is your flu? How did I even agree to you, you son of a bitch?!" You shouted out so loud that now the whole hall of students was staring at this scene. Harry finally came behind you and held your shoulders in an attempt to calm you down.

"Hey hey hey, just leave that fucker alone, okay" he whispered in your ear and dragged you away from them towards the drinks table. He handed you a cold drink and you gulped half the drink in one sip, which helped you to calm down.

"Are you okay?" He asked softly, holding your hand for comforting you.

"Yeah, I'm fine just, I should've expected this would happen, I guess. I don't think boyfriend and all is meant for me." You said, feeling a small lump in your throat as you felt tears in your eyes.

"Hey hey hey, now don't say all that." He lifted your chin up and looked into your eyes. "Don't cry over that wanker. You wanna dance with me?" He held out his hand, waiting for your answer. You wiped your tears and smiled at him, taking his hand, which he took as yes.

He took you to the dance floor and held you by the waist, pulling you closer towards him. Some slow music was playing. You held his shoulders and rested your head on his chest, swaying slowly to the music. The space between the two of you was not that prominent now, and you could hear your heart beat very loud and felt that Harry could probably hear it too.

He was feeling sorry. Sorry that you were made upset by a total jerk, but at the same time glad because that was the reason he was here, holding you close, dancing with the prettiest girl he knew, the girl he had liked over the years. He could smell sweet shampoo from your hair, mixed with some perfume you had applied, lulling him into a trance of you.

The beat of the music changed as the DJ changed into another song with faster rhythm, making you pull away from each other as you matched to the rhythm. He accompanied too, although he wasn’t too great of a dancer, but he still looked cute trying to match your moves, making you giggle at him. You danced to a few more songs, before you felt a little hungry and thirsty, signalling Harry who was feeling the same. You went to the snack counter and got some snacks for both of you, while he got the drinks. You quickly chugged the drink and snacks at once, making him laugh, you following suit.

“Thanks for this Harry, I’m really enjoying prom.”

“You’re welcome, love.” you froze a little at that nickname. Love, huh. You’d love to get used to that nickname. You just smiled in response.

The rest of the prom just went in a blur. All that you really remembered and cared about was when you sneaked out of the party and took a walk in the park. You both were just walking side by side, hands brushing every now and then. Harry suddenly stopped and let out a deep breath.

“Hey, (y/n)?”

“Yeah Harry?”

He cupped your cheeks and leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on your lips, catching you off guard. Slowly you melted into the kiss, moving your lips against his soft ones. He pulled away from you, eyes closed and pressed his forehead against yours, hands still cupping your cheeks.

"Would this be a good time to say that I like you? Like maybe we could be something more?" His eyes slowly opened, looking into your (y/e/c) eyes, both of you knew the answer.

"Yes Harry, I'd love that." You said smiling, making him grin from ear to ear. He leaned in again to kiss you harder, one hand still on your cheek while the other pulled you closer by the waist to practically press into his chest. Your hands went around his neck as you kissed him harder as well, with more passion, as if letting out all of the tension into it. Needless to say, this was your happiest memory of your lives.

----

(Age 23)

You never thought that you'd be in a relationship this long, but here you were, six years later. Harry was now a professional photographer and often had lots of photoshoots lined up for him. You had decided to take up journalism, as you were fond of writing a lot and often wrote plenty of articles in your school days.

You both now lived together in an apartment of your own, not very far from the Hollands'. You were both busy in your professional lives, but always found time for each other as well. You’d maybe go out on dates to a restaurant or to the movies, or have a night in having a movie night or just do something goofy or have some fun ;)

He has always made you feel complete. Neither of you really felt the pressure to go to the next step, which was marriage, or well so you thought. Harry would lie if he said that it didn’t occur to him. However, he knew that you weren’t ready just yet. He did not mind much, so as long as he could be with you all his life.

You were sitting and having tea with one of your colleagues Sally, who was also a good friend of yours. You were just sitting and discussing stuff about some work and boyfriends, bitching away about some stupid colleagues in your office.

“Oh also, I have something to say.” she said in a very excited voice.

“Oooh what is it?” you asked, curious as to what she was going to say. She simply squeeled a little and  thrust her left hand in front of your eyes and you saw a beautiful silver princess cut diamond cut ring on her ring finger. You covered your mouth, a big smile on your face. You gave her a big hug. You were so happy for her.

“Oh my god, Ricky proposed? I cannot believe this! When did this happen?”

“It happened this morning! He did it when I woke up! Isn’t he so amazing?”

“Of course Sal, I’m so happy for you!”

You could not, however, feel a panging in your heart. It felt a little like a longing pain, as if you would love for something like this to happen. You had no intentions to settle for a long term commitment like a marriage, but maybe, just maybe, there was a teeny tiny part in you that perhaps wanted that with Harry.

“So what about you and Harry? Are you guys planning to marry any time soon?” she asked cheekily. You gave a clamped smile.

“Marriage? Pass.” you said, trying to sound nonchalant, even though your voice quivered a bit.

“Are you sure though hun? I mean, you and Harry have been going strong for years now. Don’t you even think about it sometimes?” 

You gulped. She was kind of right.

“I don’t know, maybe? Ok, yes maybe I’ve thought of this a few times.” you paused to take a sip of your coffee and continued, “well actually speaking, I have some issues to be in a long term commitment. So far, I am kinda surprised that I’ve been in a relationship this long, although Harry is really amazing. It’s just that, I don’t want that if we marry then something happens, creating a wedge between us, and then we have to split up. Like, in the case of my parents as well, who couldn’t wait to leave each other. I guess, I’m just scared of that happening, that’s all.”

“Oh I see. Hey, its normal to feel scared of what may happen in the future. I would be lying too if I said that I’m scared too. But sometimes, we just have to go for it, you know? Life is a roller coaster, yes, but if you find the right person to spend it with, then you’ll be ready to face them.” she held your hand to give you assurance. You let out a breath and nodded in agreement.

“Thank you so much, Sal. Also congratulations again! I’m so happy for you!” you hugged her again and headed towards your bike to go back to your apartment, Sally’s words never leaving your mind.

----

(many weeks later)

You were sitting in your office cubicle, editing an article on your computer. Suddenly you saw Sam’s name flashing on your phone as it buzzed since you had put it on silent. Sensing that something was up, since he never called you while you were at work unless it was an emergency, you picked up the phone, a “hello?” leaving your mouth. If you were not mistaken, you could hear him crying.

“Sam? What happened? Is everything okay?” you asked, getting worried.

“Oh (y/n), come to the hospital quickly. Harry’s been admit-ted.” he stuttered, followed by more cries. Your hand flew to your mouth, you went into a shock. Harry? In the hospital? Was he ok? With so many questions buzzing in your mind, you managed to mutter a quick yes and got up from your desk, gathering your bag and telling your boss briefly that you needed to go to the hospital urgently, to which he agreed. You quickly climbed on your bike and drove to the hospital, which was thankfully not very far off.

You went to the receptionist, where Sam was standing, waiting for you. Seeing you walk towards him, he just gave you a hug, tears dropping from his eyes. You hugged back, trying your best to soothe your best friend by patting on his back.

“It’s ok Sam. Where is he?” your voice was suddenly high as you choked back your tears. He just led you to a hospital room, where Tom was sitting beside the hospital bed, face tear stained. He gave you a small and faint smile when he saw you. Your eyes finally fell on Harry, who was lying on the bed, his eyes closed. The heart monitor was bleeping, he had an oxygen mask on his face. Many wires were attached to his left hand, for medicine and blood supplies. He had some bandages on his left arm and his left leg as well.

“Wh-what exactly h-happened?” you stuttered, tears spilling from your eyes. 

“He got into a crash, and got injured. The doctor said that he hasn’t suffered too many injuries, but he is yet to gain consciousness.” Tom said, voice still shaking. “We’re all just waiting for him to wake up.”

You took a seat beside the bed and held his right hand, which did not have any needles. You muttered a silent prayer for him to get well soon. You stroked his hair as he kept on sleeping peacefully.

----

Harry finally regained consciousness two days later. You all were so happy and relieved. The doctor also gave good news that he was better and would be good to go in two more days, as he had to do some minor check ups. You were relieved that he was going to be alright. You had been so afraid to lose him, as you couldn’t imagine your life without him. He had been your support all your life. 

Oh. Oh. A realization hit you. He was your whole life. You did not want to spend your life without him. This episode of almost losing him had made you realize it. You quickly made your way towards Harry’s room, where he was just lying awake. Sam was telling him something, and he had an amused look on his face.

“Hey, babe. How are you feeling?”

“Better. How’re you?”

“I’m great. Hey, could I talk to you for a minute?”

“Yeah sure, (y/n/n) what is it?”

You took a deep breath. “So uhh, I’ve actually been thinking ever since we almost lost you. I don’t know, but it got me thinking. You know how I’ve always been wary of the idea of marriage, as I have always feared that what happened to my parents, would happen to us, which is not what I want. But umm, I’ve realized that I never wanna lose you, ever. I cannot imagine a life without you with me. Also, what Sally said to me the other day, made me realize that you are indeed the right person for me.”

“Oh my- wow (y/n) so, are you saying that um, that umm you’d consider taking the next step?” he asked, hoping you’d say yes.

“Yes Harry.” you tucked a hair strand behind your hair, took his hand in yours and continued, “so Harry, I know this is probably not the place to say this, we’re in a friggin hospital” he chuckled as you smiled and continued, “but maybe, when time comes, and I’m hoping it comes soon enough, do you wanna consider maybe going further? Like, be together forever?”

“You have no idea how much I’ve waited for this.”

“Is that a yes?”

He just pulled you towards him in response and caressed your cheek, attaching his lips to yours. You kissed him back gladly, smiling into the kiss. He pulled away and stroked his finger on your hand, whispering a “yes”, a goofy grin on his face.

The End

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[aperrywilliams]

The Right Moment (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

(Not my gif!)

Masterlist 

———————

Summary: Love confessions doesn't count in Spencer’s strengths. Don't you think?

Word Count: 5010.

Warnings: Curses… is so soft anyway. Fluff.

A/N: I’m so happy. This is my first fic with a beta, so y’all will not suffer with my all writing mistakes of before ones. All the love to the great @imagining-in-the-margins​

——————–

The first time I saw (Y/N), I’m pretty sure I stopped breathing for a few seconds. I could have counted the exact time, but I was so focused on looking at her that I only realized it when I was almost choking on my own breathlessness.

We were all in the conference room waiting for Prentiss to review a new case. She had already notified us a new member would be joining the team, which was a relief considering the amount of cases was getting quite heavy. Even just one more member could be of great help. When the two of them entered the room and Emily began to speak, I lifted my head from the file in front of me.

"Guys, this is the SSA (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is joining our team since today. (Y/N), meet the SSA Luke Alvez, SSA Tara Lewis, SSA Jennifer Jareau, SSA David Rossi and Dr. Spencer Reid".

Everyone gave their welcome words except me, of course, given my edginess. I just nodded my head in greeting without saying a word. She waved back and quickly sat down to begin reviewing the case.

I couldn't say exactly what was the first thing about (Y/N) that I fell in love with. Perhaps it was her appearance as a determined woman, confident, intelligent, friendly, and very nice. She looked like those kinds of people who are able to fill a room with their mere presence. It wasn't long before my hypotheses about her were confirmed. Indeed, the entire team loved her immediately. She was the first person to say hello to Penelope in the mornings. She teased Luke as she passed by his desk, and bonded quickly and closely with JJ, Tara, and Emily. Rossi loved her too, especially at dinners at his house, where (Y/N) was always the first to compliment the chef.

And me? Well, it wasn't long until we became best friends. She was one of the few people who didn't bother or interrupt my ramblings. There were many times we had to make geographical profiles and visit crime scenes together; clearly not very romantic things. But the time we spent together was growing both inside and outside work. In our rare free time, we would go for a walk or watch a series sitting on the couch at her place or mine.

Those were the moments where I felt I fell more and more in love with her. For a long time, I tried to push those thoughts away by telling myself that it was something platonic, that it was the attraction of someone with a very different personality than mine. I tried to convince myself that eventually, the infatuation would pass and our friendship would persist. But seeing how the months passed and the feeling didn’t subside, I began to sink into despair within myself. I tried not to feed myself any hope.

(Y/N) was leading her life very well and I fit perfectly as the best friend – just that. Someone to trust and a shoulder to cry on. I tried to convince myself having her around was more than enough for me, even if there was no romantic interest from her.

"Do you know what it’s called? The Friendzone." Emily said to me one day after I had to confess my feelings towards (Y/N) to someone. A somewhat forced confession, since the whole team knew it already without me saying a word. It sure was printed on all my face.

"Whatever your name it, I’ll never get out of there". I replied with a shrug.

"But why don't you tell her? You should be honest with her about this, Spencer. You’re friends. You trust each other, right?" Emily inquired, trying to awaken some courage in me to express my feelings to the woman herself.

"Tell her? No, of course not. Our relationship would become weird. I don't want that.” I replied with a shake my head.

"How do you know if isn’t mutual? You two spend a lot of time together, and I've seen how you seeing each other. Maybe she also likes you." Emily was a very good FBI agent, but not the best cupid. There was no point in what she was saying to me. Friends can also spend a lot of time together. That doesn't mean anything.

"Of course it is not reciprocal! Two days ago, she told me she had a date with Tim Robertson from Organized Crime and she was 'excited.'” I emphasized the word ‘excited’ by making the quotes marks with my fingers.

"Uh-oh" she replied with that 'oh poor boy' look. “Spencer, eventually you’ll have to do something. Love is not going to disappear spontaneously.”

I only took a deep breath and drop the subject, but I kept thinking about Prentiss’ words. Was I meant to be the eternal friend? Statistics were not on my side: Studies show that if a man over 30 invites his female friend to dinner on a weekend, only 40% of women will likely consider it a date. But if the invitation is made by a non-friend male, the odds increase to 85%. If a woman is the one inviting her male friend, she is more likely he considered it as romantic date, because men are more frequently to consider everything as a date. Conclusion: I have no chance.

I felt more defeated when (Y/N) told me one day that she was now regularly dating Robertson. The boldest thing I asked her was if she liked him. She confessed to me it was ‘very likely.’

As the weeks passed, the cases came and were resolved. (Y/N) didn't spend as much time with me outside of work anymore. She had a formal relationship with the... guy... from Organized Crime. At this point not even the 'friendzone' comforted me, because I also felt I was losing my friend. What did that lead me to? Frustration. Anger. Introversion. Everything very Spencer Reid style.

One day flying back from a case, (Y/N) sat at the front of me and looked at me with concern, as I plunged into a book.

"Spencer, is something wrong?" she asked, leaning down and resting her hands on the table between us.

"Uhm? No. I'm fine." I replied, barely looking at her.

"Spencer, I know you..."

Oh, how I hate people think I’m an open book and everyone feel free to say they know me!... Even if they are right! For God’s sake!

"Are you upset with me?... You have barely spoken to me these days and we haven't sat down to talk for a long time..." She said, taking the book I had in my hands and laying it on the table. Thus, I was forced to look at her.

"No. I'm fine. Totally fine. And if we haven't talked for a long time, it's because you're apparently very busy…” My last comment wasn't very nice, but I couldn't help it.

"Oh, I see." I took my book again and opened it to resume my reading. "You’re jealous of my relationship with Robertson." She stated seriously.

What? Did she know it too? Had the pilot been told, too?

"No. Of course not. Where do you get that from? You can do whatever you please with your life…” I said with the greatest calm that my boiling blood running in my body allowed me.

“You're jealous because I don't spend time with you outside of work anymore. Spencer, honey, you’ll always be a priority for me. It's just I have less time now, you know? We're just starting something,  Tim and I. But I promise not to be one of those women glued to my partner all the time and neglecting my friends". (Y/N) ended her statement by gently stroking my hand over the book I was still holding. I felt relief and defeat at the same time. Clearly, it didn't feel better.

But (Y/N) was genuine to her word. Indeed, she looked for a way to adjust her time with him so we could return to some movie nights on the couch and occasional walks in the park. It felt good to at least fit into her life again. Of course, this had a flip side: knowing how her relationship with Tim Robertson worked, or not. The guy showed clear narcissistic features and although (Y/N) seemed to be aware of that - as the good profiler she was - her infatuation clouded her judgment. I couldn't blame her, either. I just tried to be gentle in my criticisms, but I saw how easily she dismissed them by always excusing him.

One night I was lying on the couch reading. It was close to 2 am when I heard two knocks on the door and a loud sob. I quickly got up to open the door and saw (Y/N) standing in front of me, crying. When she saw me, she threw herself into my arms and cried harder.

"I knew you would be awake..." She murmured with her head buried in my chest. I helped her into the apartment and sat her on the couch.

"Hey, what happened?". I asked in a soft voice so as not to disturb her more than she already was.

"I broke up with Tim..."

And here I was, with my shoulder ready to contain her tears. (Y/N) clung to my neck sobbing and cursing at the same time. It wasn’t the first time I had to witness a love breakup from (Y/N). As I said before, I was her best friend, and that forced me to know things that I often didn't want to hear, but it was only fair. She also was there for me many times. I had also cried on her shoulder and cursed - a bit - at situations that overwhelmed me.

I tried to comfort her by hugging and stroking her back. The sobs subsided over time, and eventually she fell asleep. I tucked some pillows under her head and covered with a blanket. I sat for a moment to watch her while she slept. I would have done anything not to see her this sad. She didn't deserve to be hurt by an idiot like Robertson. She deserved someone who truly loved her, unconditionally. Someone she could trust, who could be always there for her, who made her laugh and comforted her when she was sad.

She needed someone... like me?

I know, it sounds not so humble. But I would be all that for her and more if necessary. Maybe Prentiss was right. Maybe I should be honest and tell her about my feelings. At least I could know if I'd ever have a chance. Well, I would have to try. Here the results.

First Attempt

The next morning I woke up smelling a pleasant scent from the kitchen: freshly brewed coffee. I got up, rubbing my eyes before I saw (Y/N) making breakfast.

"Good Morning. Breakfast is ready!” She gave me a warm smile.

"Hey... you didn't have to bother with breakfast." I replied in a raspy voice due to the disuse as I slept. "How do you feel?" I hastened to ask.

"Like I broke up with my boyfriend. But it's okay. It'll okay.” (Y/N) said, giving a deep sigh. I approached the counter where she was while she passed me two plates ready with pancakes.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I asked, placing the plates on the table and sitting in one of the chairs. She got two mugs with coffee and sat across from me.

"The usual; men who end up being assholes. The initial spark’s gone. The end.” She shrugged and took a sip of her coffee. "You know my taste in men follows an evident pattern, right?" (Y/N) stated with a sad smile.

"Maybe you need to double check your parameters and change it..." I said, testing the waters before I dove in. I didn't know what kind of reaction to expect, but she burst out laughing.

"I've thought about it – don't think I don’t. But bad habits are persistent.” She answered me as she cut her pancakes before popping a piece in her mouth.

"You could try at least..." Bringing out a confidence I thought I didn't have, I dared to take her hand over the table. She looked at me curiously.

"Do you think so? I honestly think I’m meant to be a total failure in love, always.” She told me with a grimace.

“I think you need a guy who understands you. A guy that’s there for you when you need him. Someone you can trust…” I didn’t know whether to persist with the description so as not to sound... too self-referential?

“But that's what I have you for, Spence. You are all that to me. That's why you are my best friend.” She said, squeezing my hand and smiling at me. I held my breath for a second and tried to continue.

"Perhaps... I could be more than that, more than a just..." I couldn't finish my idea because our phones started ringing. We had a case. End of conversation.

Fate: 1, Reid: 0.

Second Attempt

After a hard case that had us seconds from emotional overflow, Penelope had the wonderful idea we should go to a bar to 'drown' our frustrations. Hanging out with the team is always a good thing, although the idea of a bar never seemed entirely appealing to me.

Of course, I usually ended up being the designated driver since my alcohol consumption was minimal or nil. That night was no exception. Sitting with Rossi and Luke, I heard them talk about their love experiences as I watched the dance floor where Emily, Penelope, Tara and (Y/N), with high levels of alcohol in their blood, danced as if the world were to end in that moment. Rossi and Luke’s voices sounded distant to me. I could only focus on how (Y/N) moved on the dance floor and how I wished I could touch her... and kiss her... and...

"Reid? Reid!" Luke's voice brought me out of my fantasy. Not even in my own mind could I have in peace! Not even a single damn fantasy with (Y/N).

"Uhm?" I replied by inertia.

"I was asking you if you agreed with what Rossi said..." He asked. I wasn't even listening.

"Eh. Yeah. Sure. He has more experience… in everything.” I guess that answer was enough for the moment. "I'm going to get something else to drink". I said, getting up and walking to the bar. On my way I looked again to (Y/N), who kept dancing sensually with the others.

My emotional and sexual frustration by now was killing me. I gestured to the bartender for another soda. Focused on my own misery I didn't realize when (Y/N) gave me a gentle knock in the ribs with an elbow.

“Hey Reid! Don't tell me you're going to drink alcohol…”. (Y/N) joked.

"No, just a soda. You know I'm the designated driver today…” I replied as I nervously tapped the surface of the bar with my fingers. (Y/N) in her obviously drunken state suddenly hung her arms around my neck.

“Sorry Reid, always… always… you end up being our watchman. You can't even have some funnnnn…” She sighed, resting her head on my chest.

"It's okay. Seeing you all drunk to the bone can also be some fun.”. I replied, daring to take her waist to prevent her from slipping to the floor. She sighed again.

"I think... I don't feel okay... oh my… I'm feeling drowned… Spencer, I feel sick… I’m very dizzy … I feel like… ”

"Come, let's go out for some air. That’ll make you feel better."

We left through one of the back doors of the bar. Once outside, the fresh air made (Y/N) feel somewhat more restored. "Better?" I asked her.

"Yeah… I guess. But despite how drunk I’m… because I know… I’m soooo drunk… It isn’t pleasant to see that couple fucking on that wall...".I looked in the direction of her finger pointing a wall and the couple there didn't even bother acknowledging our presence. I must say some envy awoke in me. I took (Y/N)'s hand and led her further away from the alley before I pointed to the sidewalk and we sat down.

"Now we don't have to look at them." I told her. (Y/N) nodded. Breathing more coolly, she looked at me with tears in her eyes and smiled.

"Thanks Spencer. I don't know why you have such patience with me…” Oh boy. The emotional moment of (Y/N). Despite that, my love didn’t give up even a single millimeter.

"You don’t have to thank me. That's why we’re… friends, right?” I replied, barely outlining a smile.

"Yes. But… I don't know… you are always beyond that… I feel like I don't deserve you Spencer…” Her sobs began to mix with hiccups.

“For you (Y/N), I’ll do everything I can. Always”. I said it in a sincere tone. I never expected after having said that, that she would throw herself towards me and start kissing me. After the initial stun, my head began to wonder if that was okay.

Her drunken state told me that it was wrong, but it felt so good to have her lips on mine - ignoring the smell of alcohol, of course. It only lasted a few seconds. She pulled away quickly, as if a wave of sobriety hit her abruptly.

"Sorry! ... Spencer, I’m sorry!... I didn't want..." She started to stutter and cry at the same time.

"Hey, no... don't apologize. It’s okay…” I tried to calm her down.

"I don’t know what happened... I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable..." She kept stammering, hiccupping and waving her hands in the air.

"It’s okay (Y/N), I don’t feel uncomfortable... Matter of fact, it’s the opposite." I was going to tell her; I couldn't take it anymore.

"No?..." Her confused face in another context would have made me laugh, but in that moment I was too busy being nervousing about confessing my love to a drunk woman.

"Well…". I took her hands and started stroking them gently. "For a long time I wanted to tell you... and I know we are friends, but I would like..." I had to clear my throat again. "What I mean (Y/N), is I love..."

Unable to finish the sentence, (Y/N) suddenly leaned into my lap, letting out an explosive puke on me. A second followed... and then a third.

The next day all she remembered was the dance floor, and the fact she emptied her stomach on me.

Third Attempt

I hate cases where unsubs try to escape. That always means a chase, and dramatically increases the probability of someone getting hurt. It was in Alabama, and the unsub had hidden himself in a barn. (Y/N) and I stepped in with our flashlights and weapons in search of him. J.J. and Luke were in the backup group.

What we didn’t expect was the bastard climbing onto an attic with his gun pointed at us. When I lit up his face with my flashlight and pointed at him with my gun, I only managed to shout "Stop! FBI!” before I heard a shot in my direction.

I felt a burning and intense pain near my face before falling to the floor. With another shot, (Y/N) struck him in the chest and the unsub fell to the floor.

Oh God, my body hurt a lot. I felt the blood run down my shoulder. The bastard had shot me in the neck! I was going to die in a filthy barn and without having ever declared my love to (Y/N). She quickly knelt down and tried to locate the source of the blood, pressing her hand to my wound.

"We need medics here!" She yelled frantically. I felt dizzy, and (Y/N)’s voice was further and further away.

Was I really going to die there? At least if that was going to happen, I had to tell her. "(Y/N) ..." I said to get her attention.

“No, no… no… don't speak Spencer, keep your eyes open, but don't speak. The paramedics are coming. Come on, squeeze my hand!"

"I have to tell...".I tried to speak but between the dizziness and the pain, I had trouble articulating words.

"Spencer, please. Listen to me. You're going to be fine… everything will be okay.” She tried to reassure me.

"I... love you..." I managed to say, trying to look her in the eye. She looked at me tenderly.

I said it! I said it! I could die in peace now, couldn’t I?

"Spencer, honey..." She said while stroking my hair. I closed my eyes and the paramedics came to check me. One of them asked (Y/N) what happened and how I was doing. She summed up the incident and finished off by saying between sobs, “Please do something. He is dying. He even started to rave."

Fuck!

Then I fell passed out and I don't remember anything else.

The Summary

I could keep on listing the times when I tried to tell her. None of them seemed to be the right moment. And when it did seem to be, something happened. Destiny definitely didn’t want my confession to come to light. So okay, I thought, maybe I should just keep it to myself forever.

One morning, I stepped in the conference room with my usual coffee in hand. There were Luke, Emily, Penelope, Tara, JJ and (Y/N). The conversation was about the latest BAU girls' night. I sat down, taking one of the files settled on the table and starting to leaf through it.

"No! In defense of (Y/N), I must say she was as calm as we were at the table when the guy approached to her.” Tara said.

"Ah, so there was no flirting?" Luke asked.

"Hey! Who do you think I am, Luke? We were there for girls' night, not to catch lovers." (Y/N) replied laughing.

"Of course, they didn't stop looking at each other all night..." Stated JJ with a giggle.

"No JJ! I don't know who you were looking at, but it wasn't me." (Y/N) defended herself. The conversation was inherently awkward for me at that point. I silently didn’t take my eyes off the file in my hands.

"Well, even if she did it, (Y/N) is a free woman and could have run away with whoever she wanted, right?" Luke had a point and that made my blood boil. I'm sure Prentiss noticed.

"Okay, but nothing happened in the end. The guy left and we kept drinking. And here we are, safe and sound.” Prentiss summarized, trying to end the conversation. My hands were sweating, and I looked sideways at (Y/N) who was giggling nervously. Prentiss was probably lying just because I was there.

“Oh yeah, but just before leaving he slipped you a piece of paper with his phone number. I'm sure you saved it in your contacts and called him later!” Penelope said directly to (Y/N), who didn't say anything back. Okay. I was fed up. This conversation had to end at that very moment. I closed the file and dropped it on the table with all the force of my frustration. I got up from the chair, clenching my fists and saying "Enough!" with my jaw clenched. Everyone in the room froze and stared at me in astonishment. Prentiss was the first to react.

"Okay, Luke, Tara, JJ Penelope... to my office. Now." Emily quickly left the room and the rest following her almost instantly. (Y/N) looked confused as the group left, then fixed her eyes on me.

"Spencer?... what's going on ?"

In silence, I closed the door of the room and leaned my back on it, crossing my arms over my chest looking at (Y/N). "You okay?"

"Not. I'm not okay. This is driving me insane.” I said, uncrossing my arms and scratching the back of my neck.

"Tell me, what's going on? Maybe I can help..." (Y/N) tried to get up from the chair to approach me.

"Just don't say anything, okay? I just need you to listen to me, and I need no one and nothing to interrupt me this time.” Just as a precaution I locked the door. (Y/N) opened her eyes with concern.

"Spencer, you're scaring me..." I just stared at her as she remembered I told her not to speak. "I’m sorry..."

“I'm going to start at the end, to make sure you hear it well. Okay?” I cleared my throat and continued speaking. “I love you (Y/N), I've loved you since practically the first day that you walked through this same door with Emily. And no, this goes beyond our friendship. Of course, I love being your friend. But that is no longer enough for me. Every time I see a man in your life, I feel something burning inside me. It hurts me deeply to see you suffer for some idiot who doesn't deserve you. I can’t take it anymore. I tried to tell you so many times, I think I’ve lost count. But if you never even considered the possibility, then I can't do anything else.

You don't even remember that you kissed me outside a bar! When I told you that I loved you while almost dying in a dirty barn, you thought I was delusional! Every time... every single time I thought I gave you signs, you either didn't see them or you didn't care. I don't know what hurts me the most, your blindness or your indifference. You’re a profiler like me! How is it possible that you never…? Damn it (Y/N)! The thing is, I can't live with this stuck inside me anymore. And I'm sorry if telling you all this ends up ruining our friendship, but not being honest with you seems so much worse now. And... and... since I told you this, I think you can go on with your day... Goodbye".

I pulled the lock and opened the door to leave the room. After my confession/outburst, I didn't even dare make eye contact with (Y/N). I was about to cross the threshold when one of (Y/N) 's hands slammed it shut again. I turned around and (Y/N)'s arms wrapped around my neck before she lifted on her feet and collapsed her lips against mine. My first reaction was to raise my hands and smash my back against the door. Stupid reaction, I don't even know why I did it.

That didn't stop (Y/N), who gripped my hair to keep our mouths together. Realizing what was happening, I took her by the waist and brought her as close as possible to me, emptying all my accumulated frustration into that kiss. I don't know how long we were like this.

Okay, yeah, I really do know. It was 2 minutes and 45 seconds. After that time, we both pulled away because we could hardly breathe.

"Wow... (Y/N)... what ...?" I tried to articulate some coherent phrase, but nothing else came out.

"Now you are going to listen to me." She said as she began to play with my tie between her fingers. “First of all: neither blindness nor indifference. Denial only. Spencer... I'm clear on all the times you tried to tell me. Really, even before I broke up with Robertson. Since the time we talked on the jet and I asked you if you were mad at me. I just wanted to deny it all this time. It’s stupid, I know, but I didn't want to hurt you. I was scared I would hurt you if I crossed that border of our friendship. And yes, I also remember the night at the bar. And when you got shot in the barn. I must insist, it was all to deny myself the possibility.

And here comes the second: I did it because I... I love you too. I have for a long time. Why didn't I do anything about it...? Well, it’s kind absurd now I think about it. I did nothing because I was afraid of ruining it. All my relationships end in disaster and I didn’t want that to happen to you. And if that meant locking myself out of the possibility of going further, I was willing to do that so I wouldn’t lose you…”

This time it was I who connected my lips with hers. It felt so good, so soft, and so warm. Not even my best dreams could compare to it. When we pulled back to catch our breath, we looked at each other and started talking at the same time.

"I’m so sorry Spencer... I never wanted you to feel like this..."

"I was waiting for the right moment..."

"If I knew how to compensate you for this..."

"(Y/N), if I had known..."

“What the hell Spencer, why we are so bad at our job…”

"We are the worst ... we should resign..." We both started laughing.

"Come here, Reid." She said, taking one of my hands and pulling me into a hug. "Could you forgive me for making you suffer all this time?"

She didn't need to ask me that. I would do anything for her.

"I let you puke on me... 3 times in one night. I think that exceeds all tolerance limits on my part, don't you think?"

She started to laugh, stifling the noise on my chest. It felt so good to have her this close, to be able to touch her.

"I love you (Y/N), so much." I said, stroking her cheeks and looking at her almost without blinking.

"I love you too Spencer. My friend, my partner… and now, my lover.” She replied, winking at me.

"Hey, that last one you still owe me... with interest due to all the time that’s already passed."

"Don’t worry, honey, you just have to hold on for a few more hours, and I assure you that we will catch up quickly".

———————

[fermented-writers-block]

Who and what is Kikimora?

Although she has only made a single appearance in the show with just barely three lines to her name, Kikimora is an interesting character to me in what her apparent position and possible inspirations could mean in terms of the overall plot and history of the Boiling Isles going forward. 

Starting off, it is interesting to note how, so far, Kikimora is THE most respected character we’ve actually seen in the show - as Belos has yet to make an official appearance - as well as having one of the biggest yet understated impacts on the plot. Of course, the former can be inferred by how Lilith - THE leader of the best of the best witches outside of Emperor Belos himself - defers to her in a subservient manner, but for someone with such little screentime, Kikimora’s appearance set into motion an impending deadline that Lilith now has to fulfill soon if she wants Belos’ end of their promise. 

Additionally, it’s a subtle detail, but Kikimora’s use of just Lilith’s first name implies a ton of familiarity between the two and or that Kikimora is much, MUCH higher ranking than Kikimora in the hierarchy. As for figuring out what position she fills, well:

She is most likely Belos’ right hand woman after all, and quite literally at that. 

However, besides the literal wordplay of her design, I’ve been looking into the origins of her name and found that "kikimora" refers to a kind of spirit within Slavic mythology of which there are two kinds: one from the forest married to the spirit Domovoi,and the other from the swamp married to the spirit Leshy.

There's conflicting accounts on whether kikimora are evil or simply a difficult spirit to appease between the sources I could find, but a common thread seems to be a close association with spinning and being a symbol of impending misfortune with her psychic abilities. 

However, what I find most interesting and what I’d like to focus on here is the way she is most commonly depicted in terms of appearance. Between the unclear translated details of her exact stance and attitude towards humans, all of the sources I’ve seen more or less agree that she is a kind of powerful house spirit that is small enough to pass through keyholes, and that she is either a goddess of or are highly associated with chickens - sometimes bearing chicken feet like the ones in the drawn rendition below:

As to why I find this detail interesting, for those of you who haven’t been following my discussions with my friend @sepublic​, we have been working on plotting out the various possible narrative parallels between the characters of The Owl House and the in-universe characters of the Good Witch Azura series for a while now, with Luz and Amity being Azura and each other’s Hecate, Eda and Lilith as the old lady/mentor figure, and King and Emperor Belos as the likely small animal companions/proclaimed group leader.

With these parallels established, I have come to the conclusion that there is a FOURTH set of characters - one whose correlation in the Azura books we’ve yet to see or hear about, but will play an important role in both the overall Owl House plot and the in-universe Azura series - of which Kikimora makes up one half on Amity’s side. 

Assuming that Kikimora takes a decent amount of inspiration from her namesake in a number of ways, the most likely candidate for her parallel that I can see is - as surprising as it may seem - none other than Hooty, aka this goofball:

TLDR: Why I think both Hooty and Kikimora might turn out to be/have been bird-themed deity-like entities supporting their respective rulers, or how the epic kaiju fights were in our houses all along

To explain what I mean, with the major fan theory that King used to be the Titan/an actual king of demons and some of the recent character interactions these last few episodes, I believe that Hooty and Kikimora might be even more similar than just the mythological connotations behind Kikimora’s namesake.

For a long while now, I have been theorizing that Hooty will turn out to be a powerful owl-like spirit or being with a very severe case of power and memory loss, but to be more specific here, I think that Hooty - or the Owl Deity as I’ve taken to calling the being in the owl mural - used to be King’s second in command. 

Here, I think such a revelation would fit well with the kind of misdirection present within The Owl House’s storytelling. After all, for as much as Gus picking Hooty in UW was played as a joke, one must remember that Gus had been looking for THE most interesting, accomplished, and noteworthy person he could get, and it would be just like this show for Hooty to turn out to actually fit that criteria, much like Luz’s “bad girl chosen one” description in WBW being extremely applicable to Amity the next episode. 

In a similar vein, while King immediately shutting down Hooty’s declaration to become his recruit in AitE was a quick and funny joke in the moment, Hooty calling himself King’s “faithful pal” and the bonding moment the two shared after the carnage when King found himself ultimately relying on Hooty’s strength in the end feels to me much like the Owl House writers setting up hints for what kind of dynamics the two might have had in the distant past. 

Now, I know you must be wondering how exactly this would further tie into Kikimora being parallels with Hooty. Well, the thing about that is that I suspect that both of them played a major role in helping their respective rulers come to power a long, long time ago.

Specifically, as two bird-based deities - not necessarily gods or chicken-based ones per se, but incredibly powerful beings that might have been seen as akin to such - that King and Belos turned to for help in different ways.

I admit that this sounds like a pretty major stretch - especially in regards to Kikimora and her three lines of dialogue - but given the multiple posts of evidence-adjacent details I’ve made for Hooty being the Owl Deity, I think this would make the correlations between the two all the more cleaner. 

With King and Hooty, I could see the latter potentially being the former’s first loyal follower and or main enforcer of his will, a reliable friend and powerhouse that King depended on until both of them were overthrown and reduced to the sad state we see them in now. 

And with Belos and Kikimora, I could see the former having been a fresh new recruit in King’s army back then, one who became fed up with his arbitrary demands and impulsive abuses of power - much like Private New Guy in AitE - and called upon Kikimora for her help in staging a mutiny against Hooty and King. Meanwhile, I could also see the latter being themed after a different bird within the world of The Owl House than chickens, potentially even being the basis behind Lilith’s corvid iconography and maybe the wings on Belos’ symbol.

That said, to contrast Hooty and King’s relationship, perhaps Kikimora and Belos’ is more transactional in nature befitting how in some folklore, kikimora - when pleased with the family of the house she resides in - apparently serve as their guardians and can warn her family of impending disaster with her powerful psychic talents, whereas only when she is displeased does her mischief to act up for the residents within. As such, Belos may or may not be doing something to make sure he keeps her favor as an asset to use and keep control over her/to enhance her powers, something which possibly could even be connected to the apparent search for items of eternal youth.

Though just to get this clear, I am NOT saying that Kikimora is the real mastermind behind everything while Belos is a mere figurehead. Rather, I’m suggesting that Belos and Kikimora might be more like business partners in crime compared to the possible past friendship Hooty and King might have had.

Furthermore, to develop Hooty and Kikimora even more as foils of each other, I think it would be rather fitting if the latter was revealed to have been in this picture the whole time as Belos’ castle itself:

After all, I’ve made note before of how the majority of the Owl House looks like it used to be a portion of a large “Owl Temple,” so considering how Hooty is the house itself and how Amity and Luz’s groups are positioned on opposing extremes, it would make sense if Kikimora leaned into the “house spirit” aspect of her inspiration by being Belos’ castle itself - or at least, being able to animate it, that is.

I mean, there IS always the possibility that she will stay closer to her inspirations and be a separate entity from Belos’ castle - aka where she’s still capable of traveling through keyholes and that’s how Kikimora was involved with Belos’ mutiny by sneaking through Hooty’s mouth entranceway - but personally, I think it’d be rather fitting if in a reversal of folklore kikimoras, she was the keyhole of Belos’ castle instead.

After all, if she IS the castle like Hooty is the Owl House and both of them turn out to be deity/bird-like beings, then I predict that we might get to see a clash of the titans somewhere down the line after Hooty regains his former form and memories - potentially even having gotten back the rest of the Owl Temple to more evenly match Kikimora in scale for a battle of epic proportions.

Overall, to summarize, I think Kikimora and Hooty will turn out to be parallels in terms of being powerful bird-themed deity-like entities, being capable of becoming and or already being giant “castle/temple demons,” and being/having been the respective second-in-command of Belos and King. 

As for how they would contrast with the other, it’s too early to tell with how little we know of Kikimora at the moment, but judging from how the other characters between Amity and Luz’s groups parallel each other, it will be rather interesting to see how her personality and motives might serve as a reflection to that of the Owl Deity across the extremes of individualism vs conformity.

[astrolovecosmos]

Neptune in the Houses and The Dissolved Ego

“Neptune embodies the urge to transcend the boundaries that keep the soul separate from the whole. Neptune seeks dissolution of the ego, the small self, but this can dissolve into not knowing who or what the self really is.” - Judy Hall.

Neptune in the 1st: There is a sometimes unrealistic environment around the development of self. Many warn of being impressionable, that there are no boundaries for the self. In best case scenario one could argue the ego sees past itself with this placement. This person has a more immediate understanding of the human condition and especially feelings of others. From this can be a healer, poet, helper, maybe empath BUT from this can also be a struggle to find self. In a more negative scene this can be someone with less boundaries, they find it easy to become intimate and vulnerable. Intimacy can be a weapon they wield or blocks for relationships to build or both.

Neptune in the 2nd: Let me guess have you heard that this placement is bad with money? They always are left wanting, even if well off? They are impractical?  While I won’t say these associations are completely untrue I understand if you are tired of them. With Neptune in the 2nd things like art/creativity build up their worth. If we look at more specific associations - photography, music, dancing, and poetry. Religion or spirituality could help them feel more bounded to the real world. In the 1st intuition is seen in the self but I would make a claim this placement has a lot of seen or outward intuition too. Here this exist in a tangible way. Their intuition interacting with reality. We know substances are associated with Neptune, there comes a warning that substances can boost their self-esteem but in a house connected to the senses there can be more of a spiritual experience with some substances, of course I know this is a controversial take. Finding great value and meaning for the self in something as innocent as food and drink could be part of this interpretation with substances + senses + value. In terms of “ego”, this allows one to find value in elements other than the material. Ego does not have to rely on objects of wealth. There is depth in a house that tends to get a very surface level reputation.

Neptune in the 3rd: Known to be elusive in communication and connection. A natural knack for creativity which really comes from an idea that they do best with creative ways to learn. The ego here doesn’t get hung up in words and intellectual dogma. There is a way to share feelings and thoughts that reaches others. Expression and learning are important to them especially in an artistic sense such as poetry and song writing. Easily distracted and can lack discipline but they are highly adaptable and this may be seen most in their childhood as well as times when they are open to learning. They help others understand them, the nature of emotions, and fellow humans through communication.

Neptune in the 4th: Things like pride or selfishness are likely to not get in the way of what matters most - family or the feeling of finding belonging. Attachment to the changeable and an unstable home life is associated with this placement. But intuition and feeling is nurtured from their past somehow. This is a highly sensitive individual who was not programmed into being misled by the ego. The flip side of this is that their sense of self might not have been solidified growing up. Selfish wants and needs were not always catered to and this can have both positive and negative outcomes. On the positive this is someone who can be giving and easily sympathizes with others, may even have a sense of humility. But a lack of boundaries and self-focused needs being met can still have consequences that allow them to be easily used and hurt. Learning that change is the only constant at an early age can be an area of strength for them.

Neptune in the 5th: Could get carried away in romances and easily lose sense of self within them BUT while I don't want to downplay those risks, if there was a house with plenty of positives for Neptune it is this one. A creative, intuitive, and emotionally in-tune planet sitting in the house of pleasure, play, and creativity. Neptune can be about romance and in the 5th... here the ego dissolves into foam of fantasy feelings and expectations. Disappointment and crashes down to earth can await but at least here the soul, the individual gets to feel something truly special in their romances. "Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all." There is a greater understanding about themselves and about others when they dive into the arts/creative expression. Pleasure, the joys of life are felt on another level, maybe even a spiritual one.

Neptune in the 6th: Creativity, imagination, and intuition in the mundane is a gift for this placement. Prone to hypersensitivity and over stress is one burden of this placement but that hypersensitivity still has the ability to grow emotional and inner strength. Here the ego is dismantled by a desire to truly serve and help others. Teamwork and honestly a humanitarian aspect exist in this house. Neptune is here with a connection to human emotion and spirit. They give back on multiple levels.

Neptune in the 7th: Alright, loss of self in a relationship, easily being influenced and used, lack of boundaries - this does exist. Don't boil down Neptune in the 7th to just this. First their ability to read others is uncanny. They know what others need and want. Part of them is driven to please or care for others and this has an ability to be a good thing. The ability to adapt to others can be a skill. They share themselves with many and while this has its downside, while they should learn to protect themselves, this can still be great. One book describes the 7th as a place where we share our humanity. Giving many access to one's humanity, is a positive. Online I know many love to throw around the word "mirror". That element has a place here. They can at times act as a mirror for another, helping them see things in themselves and to learn. Of course "being a mirror" is not anyone's responsibility, something to keep in mind. Relating to another can be a spiritual experience and in many ways, shouldn't it be like this? In the 7th, the ego is dissolved into others.

Neptune in the 8th: Yes their intuition is powerful, it is strong. Can we get an applaud for this? Many books and articles I see warn of a lot of danger and negatives with this placement. A warning of being taken advantage of financially is talked about frequently. If I had to distill it down, the warning would be this: don't let anything good slip away from you. Appreciate what you have in the moment and watch out for the wolf in sheep's clothing. Here walls are peeled away in terms of intimacy, giving, sharing, fears, and the unknown. Not an open book but they have no fear of vulnerability. It is their hunches that will protect them because without it there is just an urge to merge and to share. From this comes the danger of being deceived. The ego doesn't fear appearing weak, showing flaws, getting close. Maybe it isn't always that the ego is dissolved but shared. The self and its expectations, wants, needs are shared to whoever flashes vulnerability back at them. I would look at this as a place of bravery.

Neptune in the 9th: Something to be said about their idealism! Spiritual learning and subjects can take a seat here. "[there is the call] towards ritual and mysticism - or the illusions that pass for it." - Judy Hall. I think the 9th house is an area to be careful of in general - but that is a talk for another day. Be cautious of falling for spiritual illusions and being misled in the area of knowledge, education, morals, and religion. Be careful of blind faith. But Neptune here is in touch with the spiritual realm or the human spirit. Their own inner faith is not that of over confidence but a faith in the universe. Their beliefs overcome any of the ego's needs or insecurities.

Neptune in the 10th: Attracted to creative/artistic careers or careers that can heal/help/serve others - yes. okay. let's move on. Here we see the ego, the self being shared on a mass level. It is "dissolved" into the public sphere. No boundaries can be useful though, giving so many over access, honestly a possible good position for gaining "fame". But I don't like to label certain placements as the "fame" placement. You will find celebrities and public figures with all kinds of charts. But the idea that the public has easy access to them can be a real threat to be aware of too. They can be far reaching in their community or career. They make an influence on others which has its positives and negatives. They connect with others easily on a platform, through their art, or through their work. On an even larger scale, when thinking about society here is someone who can help make the world a better place.... or could set in motion harmful ideologies and emotions to cling to. An ability to see the wounds in society is a strength that would benefit many of us.

Neptune in the 11th: So sensitive to the collective, to the group, maybe even the mood of the room. There is compassion for their fellow woman/man. Being easily fooled/misled in a group setting can be a big negative. Being used by friends is a reoccurring theme. This is a very cordial, amiable, and accepting placement when it comes to dealing with others. Intuition among the collective and within the social realm is strong and this will help them to overcome issues with deceptive or unhealthy friendships. The ego puts down its sword and shield to connect with others in the most straightforward way. It can forge spiritual bonds with people that is unsullied by heavy expectations. Depth can be found in friendship, in a group, in an organization, among an array of relationships and depth doesn't have to be confined to romance or family.

Neptune in the 12th: If there was a place the ego would metaphorically "die", this would be it. Tapping into intuition, creativity, spirituality are strong but out of all that, I want to put the spotlight on how this gives someone a very deep ability to connect with the human condition and the human spirit. Kindness and forgiveness are learned here. I emphasize learn, not inherit, not natural, learned. Understanding when one is a victim that needs to be saved and when one needs to move past being a victim is important. Strength will always exist in the non-tangible. Strength exist in uncovering what is hidden. Strength comes from understanding and accepting what is within.

[jencsi]

Let’s Talk- Finn and Russell;

From the very beginning, we get the hint, notion, presence of a deeper connection between Julie Finlay and DB Russell. In Seeing Red, when she hears him, not even having to look and know he’s there during the crime scene reconstruction, just his voice alone makes her roll her eyes, gets her fired up with some sort of passion, anger, emotional reaction. As evidenced from their conversation about the blood spatter case, her resistance to proceed further with him again shows she is not quite over what has happened to them in the past and it makes viewers want to know, what the heck happened? What could this seemingly unbothered hippie like guy have ever done to cross this already sullen yet spirited woman? Despite her futile attempts to deflect him, she cannot help but be drawn to the case, he sought her out after all, he must be desperate. When she retrieves the file he leaves behind and it piques her interest, she gives in, with probably a lot of hemming and hawing off screen, before venturing to CSI for the first time.

That single solitary scene cemented in my brain their dynamic from that day forward. There was no going back for me. Whatever they had in the past, whether that be something romantic, friendly or just work related, my soul ached to know more and even better, my heart yearned to watch them more, to listen, to observe the bantar, the sarcasm, the snark, the sheer and utter pure honesty that comes from their conversations. DB Russell is not trying to trick Finn, he’s not trying to make her figure out some silly puzzle or game, he just wants her expertise and guidance. Once she accepts his offer, her personality begins to shine via her work (Should I wrap it up and take it back to the lab? Took the words right out of my mouth smart ass” “You know me so well” “And you know blood, better than anyone I know”) her bonding with her colleagues, and even better, the little hints at what was between her and Russell back in Seattle.

When we finally do get to see that past revealed, ripped open like a fresh wound, via CSI on Fire, we see the headstrong and overheated Finn on a mission, prove that Tom Cooley is a killer and bring justice to the families of his victims. Of course that journey is not without complications and wild accusations, of course Finn would never kill anyone, that I firmly believe, unless of course it’s to save a friend or colleague (saving Greg from that supposed innocent victim of the Gig Harbor Killer in The Twin Paradox) but Cooley rattles her, gets under her skin in a way different from Russell. In fact it’s Russell warning her to be careful, to go with caution, but her typical rebellious nature of “I’m not listening” pushes her further to the truth and to danger at every turn.

Her tone when speaking to Russell about the discovery of Cooley’s body in his hotel shifts our thinking that maybe she isn’t the same person she was two years ago. If what we are observing right now is the casual cool collected Finn, just how reckless was she in Seattle? She feels the disappointment from Russell in his tone, the way he looks at her, and she hates that, she doesn’t want to disappoint anyone, especially him. His presence in her life since the Seattle days has created this combination of not wanting to let him down or disappoint him mixed with her fierce loyalty to the truth, to the victims and their families, clashing with her exuberant personality.

With CSI on Fire resolved, Finn melts back into a rhythm with her ex-husband, also a component of her former life in Seattle, all seems right between Russell and her, a trademark of their friendship, forgiveness and acceptance.

Looking at their dynamic from the perspective of the actors who portray them, Ted Danson has referred to them as the bickersons, like oil and water, but at the same time, Finn/Elisabeth and her characters intrusiveness helps him do his job better and see things clearly when it comes to cases as well as other aspects of his characters life. Elisabeth meanwhile seemed to enjoy the back and forth dialogue and the testiness of their relationship, she seemed invested in their past in Seattle and wondered where the writers would take that.

In Homecoming, the season 12 finale, we see corruption and problems arise amongst the police force and Russell apologies for seeming to drag Finn into this mess and bringing her there to work but she states that she makes her own decisions and doesn’t seem bothered by the issues until she is thrown into the chaos of it all when she trails Crenshaw and stumbles into the violence they have created around them with the assistance of McKeen and Kimball.

The Finn and Russell dynamic gets tested here when Katie, Russell’s grand daughter is kidnapped and Finn attempts to save her. In the chaos, she sends Katie out into the unknown alone while she does battle with Crenshaw (a violent but epic struggle, major kudos to the stunt work they did here, it felt so real and made me love Finn even more, seeing how far Elisabeth was willing to take this character) Russell is devastated to learn Finn let Katie escape alone but is also distraught knowing both were hurt and in danger. His anger at Finn boils over when she insists she’s fine, how he refers to her as “Finn” on the phone instead of the sweeter Jules we are used to hearing, and when she discusses the case with him in the bedroom where Katie was taken from and he punched the wall, leading to a missed clue. Despite the resentment towards her, they figure out Katie’s whereabouts and stop McKeen from carrying out his plans. We can see and feel Finn’s guilt deep down for her mistakes, even if everything works out, the way she stands holding the phone, the way she looks at Moreno who tries to assure her it will be okay.

At the end of Karma To Burn, Finn and Russell reconcile again, not so much with words but in the way she snaps him out of his fantasy of ever having to use his gun in a real life situation, of how far he was almost pushed to the brink when it comes to saving his work family, not just Katie. His use of the nickname Jules on several occasions, something she claims to hate but also doesn’t, comes back when Barbara inquires if she will stay for dinner. All is well again.

The final blow and perhaps the deepest cut of their relationship occurs with the reopening of the Gig Harbor Killer case. From the get go, we start off with a bang, literally and figuratively. It is Russell who is at the mercy of Winthrop who demands he admit they did not capture the correct killer in order to relinquish Finn from the confines of her bomb invested car. With much reluctance, he admits their mistake and Finn is spared. The hug they share in the parking lot after she is freed breaks me every time and just further adds to the complicated but always present nature of their relationship. The next go around, Maya, Russell’s daughter is targeted, but this time, she is used as bait to try and lure the copycat out to play and be captured. When that fails, Finn unwillingly becomes the next target and once again Russell is thrown for a loop. This time however, there is no mercy, no chance at redemption, Finn is ripped from him violently and with no regard. Worse still, we get to see a tiny bit of his life afterwards, via CSI Cyber, when he observes another coma patient in Hack ER. Avery Ryan takes notice of his demeanor and quietly brings up Finn. Russell’s memories play out in quick flashbacks and we see where his heart belonged the entire time. He speaks of reading to her, hoping she’d wake up, then darkness, never to see her eyes pierce him again, no more bantar, no more snark, no more intrusiveness. The fact that almost a whole year later we get a resolution for Finn and get to see Russell pine for her one last time gives us closure and really showcases how strong this bond was for three and a half years.

I will always wish for a better outcome for Finn, as originally scripted, but somewhere in the chaos of writing and producing, we lost her. I will always be sad we didn’t get to see more of Russell at her bedside waiting for her to wake up. That emotion would have been so raw and real coming from Ted. These characters deserved a proper ending and reunification because it just wasn’t justified to wreck their metaphorical ship that was so strong and sailing along fine before colliding with the iceberg of violence. Nevertheless, this dynamic holds strong in my heart to this day. There are plenty more examples to pull from the show, every time they chatted about cases and made progress just by talking it out, every time they fought about their thought processes and reckless behavior, every soft sweet utterance of “Jules” will forever gut me, weaken me, bring me to my knees, but somehow give me strength. That’s how powerful their relationship was and appeared to me on screen, they were a paradox, love, hate, push, pull, oil and water as Ted stated before, give and take, and boy did they give me so much more than any naysayer could ever attempt to take from me. No matter where anyone stands on the fandom line, so much heart and soul went into Russell and Finn, and when you really sit down and watch and listen with perspective and acceptance, you can see it and feel it. I think that type of power transcends just your typical acting alone, it truly feels real. Give me that dynamic everyday, sign me up. I don’t think I’ll ever be as lucky as I was to witness such greatness on the screen between these two. Good things don’t happen twice, as I have unfortunately learned the hard way over the years, once it’s gone, it’s gone.

But in the heart and soul of Russell and Finn is an incredible ability to keep a stronghold on viewers like me, or maybe not, maybe I’m just crazy, but here were are, years after things have ended and the screen has faded to black.

[happytsukki]

me, you, and us.

t. kuroo

genre: angst

wc: 1.5k

a/n: i’ve had writer’s block for a few days and i was about to just stick to reading bc i can’t write to save my life. was genuinely about to give up and just finish my smau LOL but here’s my attempt to keep going ;-; should i write a pt 2? dont know if its better left at that sooo you should tell me your thoughts!

“look, i’m happy for you, really y/n,” kuroo hesitates and inhales sharply. his fingers fidget around the mug laid in front of him, eyes avoiding the look tinged with concern painted across your face. “but what about us? you said— no we said we would do this whole adult thing together. we would build our lives in tokyo with our family and friends. you would become a lawyer, i would become a scientist. then, we could start a family, have mini me’s running around here,” he shudders, his voice growing increasingly weary with every word. his chest heaves up and down as he fights the urge to cry out in frustration.

three years. it’s been 3 long, glorious years since kuroo confessed his feelings to you back at nekoma. and what first began as something simply platonic blossomed into an enduring type of love that allowed the two of you to brush past all the obstacles. first, it was conflicting time schedules at work, then it was that overly flirty coworker that seemed to constantly cling on to him, and there was also the ex-boyfriend trying to “befriend” you again ordeal; but despite all the struggles, your love reigned supreme and nothing seemed to separate the bond you two held.

and love to kuroo meant not only reminiscing in the first’s, and reveling in the now’s, but also dreaming about the what if’s. dreams that he so badly wanted to become a reality.

“i know, tetsu, but look,” you desperately plead, a hand reaching out to capture his face, jaw tightened and brows knitted tightly. your knees brush his thighs as you lean forward but he remains rigid in his position. you’ve never seen him like this, indignation underlying his despair. “it’s a paid internship with one of the best firms in the nation! imagine how many opportunities this opens up for me, no, i mean for us in the future. besides, distance has nothing on us, right?”

no matter how hard you tried to sound confident, it sounded too much like a question rather than an affirmation. you could feel the cracks emerging in your relationship. the doubts washing away the glue that held you two together against all the past ups and downs. and despite being only a few feet apart, you felt oceans away from the man in front of you.

“no,” he says sternly, recoiling from your touch. he stands and takes steps away from you, a pained expression staring right back at you. “there’s no us in this, y/n. this is all about you. you’re the one being selfish.” he snarls, pointing a hard finger at your face.

“don’t say that tetsu, that’s not true,” you shout back, rage stirring within the depths of your stomach. you couldn’t fathom how he was blaming you right now. you were fully certain that if he came home to you one day, rejoicing in news of an opportunity for his career path, you would cry out in jubilation. so the fact that he was doing quite the opposite made your blood boil.

“i thought you would be happy for me— but you’re just being a dick about it!” you scream, loud enough for your neighbors to hear past the thinly lined walls of your apartment, but you couldn’t care less. your emotions were high and there was no off switch to stop the flood of venom slipping out your lips.

“are you kidding me? i’m the one at fault here y/n?”

at this point, both of you are shouting at full volume, anger bouncing off each other, and chipping away at your hearts. how could the one you loved the most be the one who ended up hurting you the worst? you think to yourself, breaths growing ragged from your emotions.

“but you are tetsurou! why can’t you support me?” it’s tiring, and maybe it’s your mind fighting your heart, but whatever it was made you feel completely helpless. it was like being stuck between a rock and a hard place, and each choice resulted in your own misery.

“what am i supposed to do while you pick up everything and move to the other side of the japan? did you expect me to come with you, or stay here and continue long distance? admit it, you didn’t even bother thinking about me in all of this, because i was never a part of your future!”

then there’s silence.

a deafening silence that was far too long on your part. and kuroo decides right there and then.

amid your scramble to find the right thoughts, right words to convince him, no— yourself that he was always in your mind, a priority in your heart, he storms off into the bedroom you shared.

you chase after him, legs absolutely numb as you attempt to drag your heavy feet across the carpeted floor. oh how quickly your anger dissipates and transforms into a painful sorrow.

“tetsu?” you whisper from behind him. your eyes fall onto the suitcase laid out on the bed, clothes overflowing from it. he hears you, but he doesn’t pause. he continues his fit of rage, walking back and forth from the dresser to throw his belongings into the suitcase. kuroo rummages through the drawers, leaving a mess behind everything he touches, but it didn’t matter at this point.

“don’t do this tetsu. please.” you cry out, hand clutching at the tighteness in your chest that made it difficult to find a breath. you find yourself following his every step, fingers reaching out for his but he dodges your desperation every time.

“why? you were gonna leave me anyway,” he hisses stridently behind his lashes brimming with tears, zipping the last of his stuff away in that little suitcase.

before he can walk through the door of your bedroom, you stop him and place your fists against his chest.

“look at me, tetsu. i love you. please, don’t do this,” you breathe. your hands go up to cup his face, sending shivers down his spine. as the pads of your thumbs delicately wipe away the tear stains, you can almost feel him lean into your touch. and for a moment, that hardened expression softened into the one you had grown to love for years. but it’s gone within seconds and your hands turn cold, missing his warmth.

“i’m only making this easier for you. now you don’t have to go through the pain of choosing, because i think we both know how this ends.” he sighs.

your forlorn whispers grow into desperate pleas for him to stay. but his feet don’t stop until he’s facing the front door, fingers grazing the silver knob that led to an escape from this situation, an escape from what he used to consider his paradise.

“don’t please. kuroo. tetsurou. i love you. don’t leave me.”

your sobs drive you to your knees and you reach for his arm one more time. maybe he’ll stay. maybe he’ll forgive you. maybe he’d still let you be a part of his future. you silently pray over and over, hoping that maybe the heavens could hear you and convince him. and those same thoughts run through kuroo’s mind but the words he was truly seeking for was nowhere to be found.

i won’t leave you.

that’s all he wished you would say. but minutes pass and he thinks it’s hopeless.

so he walks right out your life, just like that. he manages to mutter a sad “i love you too” before shutting the door but it’s far too quiet to be heard and you’re left alone in that empty, desolate apartment.

it’s cold, lacking the warmth that kuroo radiated from his mere presence. it’s dark, deprived of the brightness kuroo cast from his silly jokes and sweet words. so you’re sitting there, back against the door while you wretchedly wrap your arms around that old picture frame. it contained your graduation picture, lips pressed against kuroo’s as the team looks on proudly.

you start to think how funny it is how these memories that once made your heart swell with bliss became the monsters breaking down your very existence.

you’ve memorized every great and minute detail about him, but now you want to lock these up and throw away the key. it’s not out of regret or contempt, but protection against the guilt writhing away at your whole being.

and while you wept relentlessly, tears drenching your cheeks and the weight on your chest expanding, kuroo was lost.

how could the entire premise of his future slip out of his fingertips so easily?

a day ago, kuroo felt like he was on top of the world, basking in the vibrancy you continued to bring into his dull life. an itching sensation blossomed in his heart as he gushed to kenma over the idea of proposing, and of course, his best friend happily encouraged him to.

but within hours, an earthquake had sent tremors through his world. you were his entire foundation, a stabilizing rock against all the raging shakes and storms. but you weren’t his anymore.

without you, he lost the feeling of feeling. black and white darkening his world into nothingness.

[steppedoffaflight]

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 12

Catch up on Chapter 11 here

“So?” Van brings you back to reality.

“So what?”

Van’s eyes widen like your question was stupid. “Are you able to go to dinner with us?”

Your neck jerks back like he’s just said something repulsive. “Why would I go to Benji’s birthday dinner?”

The longer Van stares at you like you’re an idiot, the more irritation boils under your skin. “Because you’re our friend?” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

or

You’re cordially invited to celebrate Benji’s 29th birthday.

Word count: ~14k

A/N: content warning for drunk sex and some sliiiight under-negotiated kink

Chapter Twelve July 2019

True to your word, you hold Van hostage at your place for the rest of the weekend, making sure he gets plenty of rest, fluids, and soup. It feels amazing to have him close by, not having to wonder about what he’s up to or how he’s feeling. Whether you’re on the porch with your nose in another one of your books, or finishing up some work things at the kitchen table, it relieves you to know that Van’s only a room away, snoozing peacefully on your bed. 

On Sunday evening Van feels well enough to sit on the couch with you, dragging your comforter along with him. You two resume the Netflix show about the stalker and have a small binge of it until both of you are distracted with your phones.

“Hey,” Van croaks. “What’re you doing Monday?”

“Tomorrow? The same thing I do every Monday, Van.” You can already tell from his tone that he’s most likely about to suggest something insane. You mentally gear up for his argument against your no.

“Not this Monday, the next. And I know you work, so shut up-” He shakes his head in exasperation when your mouth opens to tell him that. “I mean after work.”

You open up the calendar on your phone. There’s nothing special happening on the day in question. “Um, nothing…” You answer Van wearily, bracing for his request.

When Van doesn’t speak you dare to meet his eyes. “Uh, why?”

“We’re having a birthday dinner for Benji,” Van tells you. “Technically his birthday is on Thursday but we’re flying out on Tuesday and we wanted to go to that restaurant we like. The one I took you to?”

You nod at the memory. How could you forget it? It was the most exclusive and expensive place you’d ever eaten at. Not to mention it’s sort of where this whole thing with Van started. Or would San Diego be considered the place where it all started? You lose your train of thought pondering this.

“So?” Van brings you back to reality.

“So what?”

Van’s eyes widen like your question was stupid. “Are you able to go to dinner with us?”

Your neck jerks back like he’s just said something repulsive. “Why would I go to Benji’s birthday dinner?”

The longer Van stares at you like you’re an idiot, the more irritation boils under your skin. “Because you’re our friend?” He says, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Your jaw goes slack at this. He didn’t say my friend. He said our friend. As in the fucking band.

“What- I mean, Benji doesn’t even like me!” You insist. “He doesn’t want me at his birthday dinner. We’ve barely said five words to each other!”

“Aw, Blakes likes you plenty. He’s just quiet, is all. Bob’s cool with everyone. You know John adores you. We love having you around!”

You can’t even wrap your head about what Van’s saying. You’ve always figured you were a nuisance to the other boys, an inconvenience at their shows. The guitar Bondy had gifted you had been an incredibly nice gesture, but you always assumed his kindness was a direct result of trying to make Van happy by welcoming you.

“I think you’re just saying that,” You argue. “I don’t think they like me. They’re nice to me because you like me.”

“Not true,” Van says. “All of them have said they liked you. They think you’re cool. You’re chill at the shows, they thought you were hilarious that time we had drinks on the patio, and Bond still talks about that one time we smoked weed at my house and you told us to do Encore at our set. It was a big hit, by the way. He loved that you made the right call.”

“I didn’t make the call,” You huff. “You two both like Encore best.”

“Y/N,” Van says seriously, “Conversation is a single. The label was one-hundred percent expecting us to do Conversation. We switched the set because you, a listener, liked Encore better. We were not going to do Encore.”

All you can do at this news is blink at him.

Van wiggles around underneath your comforter. “So are you going to fucking dinner with us or not? No pressure, but I already told them you’d most likely be there and they’re excited. Afterward we’re gonna go back to John’s place and have drinks. You don’t have to stay late, though.”

They were excited that you’d be there? “Um. I mean. Well, since you’ve already told them I’m going, what choice do I have?” You roll your eyes, but it’s all just an act so Van doesn’t feel like he got his way that easy.

Van beams at you before starting to tap away at his phone. “Perfect. It’s gonna be class.”

\\

Van makes a speedy recovery on his antibiotics, and on Tuesday you come home from work to a clean kitchen and an empty sink. 

Your house is so small that you don’t need to call out to Van that you’ve arrived, like you have to do at his house if he’s not in the living room. You can instantly hear the strumming of an acoustic guitar ringing out from your bedroom. 

You open the door slowly to reveal Van sitting on your bed, strumming away at the guitar Bondy gifted you. It’s been propped in the corner, unused, but you’ve noticed Van steadily gravitating towards it during his recovery, unable to resist the temptation of messing with it. Today’s the first day you’ve caught him doing more than just tuning it or plucking a few strings; he’s got his leather notebook spread out next to him, and he’s bobbing his head to an imaginary beat that continues even as he looks up at you. 

He finishes playing his tune, setting the guitar next to him on the bed and scrawling a few things into his notebook before closing it and tossing it onto the bedside table. “How was work?”

“Good, actually,” You tell him as you head to the closet, already starting to unbutton your silk blouse. The workday didn’t feel completely behind you until you’ve changed out of your professional clothes and into something that made you feel like yourself. “I made good progress on the research for that water company.”

 Van lays back on the bed, watching you shamelessly as you peel the silk off of your shoulders. “Ah. Do you think they’re gonna make it?”

Although it was difficult to explain exactly what it was that your company did, your department specialized in market research. In L.A. everyone’s got a big idea, and they paid your department to investigate if there was something to them. As you were only a couple of years out of college, you were assigned businesses that didn’t have a big research budget to spend, ideas that you could clearly see wouldn’t be taking off. Your more experienced coworkers were reserved for companies that had something to them, that would likely be developing life-long relationships with your firm. And though it was frustrating being assigned the businesses doomed to fail, you could tell your experience was starting to pay off, and could more easily recognize who was worth more of your time. 

“Not at all,” You snort. The business in question was run by two men that looked about your age, but were probably younger. Typical surfer-stoners, they’d developed a concept about THC water. Not CBD water- which was beginning as a profitable trend- but THC water, inspired by their friend group who thought it would be a million-dollar idea to be able to get high as they hydrated on the beach. But THC water is already a patented idea, the production costs are extremely high, and there are a lot of legal hoops to jump through with THC marketing campaigns.

You’d never discussed your job before with Van, but who could blame you? What job beat touring the world performing to screaming fans? But once you’d answered his questions about what you’re always doing on your MacBook, he’d become obsessed. A big fan of the underdog, he’d taken to placing bets against you on all of your projects. He’s certain this water company is going to make it.

“Nah, just wait,” He assures you. You turn to face him as you stand there in your bra, shimmying your slacks off of your legs. You narrow your eyes at him.

“Shut up. They’re doomed, Van.” Van gives you a once over as you stand there in your underwear, and you turn away just to deny him the privilege of admiring you. “Plus, their budget is almost used up and I’ve barely done anything. They’ll likely pull out next meeting.”

“I’ll fundraise for them,” Van jokes. “Send out a couple tweets, get the fans behind them. They’ll take off.”

“Or,” You suggest, snapping your bra off and throwing a clean t-shirt on, “Save yourself the effort of trying to remember your twitter login, and smoke your weed like the rest of us in California.”

Van laughs at that, and the argument is settled.

“By the way,” You’re clad in your typical t-shirt and sweatpants now, and pick up your guitar to settle it back in the corner. When that’s put away you sit down on the bed next to Van’s sprawled out body. “Why’d you clean the kitchen? You’re supposed to be resting.”

“I was bored today! I didn’t do anything crazy like mop. I just wanted to pay you back for the dinners.”

You’d quickly learned that Van’s chef act that he’d whipped out the first time you’d stayed the night at his place was just that: an act. He was absolutely hopeless in the kitchen if eggs and bacon weren’t involved, which meant that every night you were the one cooking up dinner for you two while Van hacked up a lung from his spot on the couch. 

“You don’t have to pay me back for anything, stop,” You ruffle his hair. Van untucks one of his hands from behind his head so he can playfully bat you away. “If anything, I owe you the dinners for the car.”

Van shakes his head at this. “What car? The car I leave baking in my driveway most of the year?”

You bat at his hand as he plucks at the hem of your shirt, another telltale sign he’s not feeling deathly anymore. He’s been making passes at you for the past two days, but you’ve dutifully ignored them. Your first fuck after time apart was always intense, and truthfully you were a little worried about breaking him. You bat his fingertips away, playfully grazing the soft skin of your stomach, and then he bats at you in retaliation, and soon you’re both breathless from laughing and your hands sting from slapping at each other. 

“So what should we do for dinner?” You ask when you’re done giggling. “Let’s get something. I don’t wanna cook.” What you actually didn’t want to do was ruin the clean kitchen. 

“Let’s go somewhere,” Van suggests. “Nowhere fancy. But I’m really in the mood for a burger.”

That’s good news, considering he’s only had an appetite for simple sandwiches and soup. And a burger does sound good, so you agree.

You sit up, preparing to switch out of your sweatpants into some leggings, when Van’s arm suddenly shoots out, keeping you from standing up.

“Wait,” He sits up, his hair straying from its usual side part. 

“What?” His sudden seriousness has you worried.

“Is that us on your shirt?”

You frown in confusion, looking down before you understand. You’re dressed in the shirt Van had given you in San Diego, the Balance toucan design on the front. “Yeah. You don’t remember?”

“Of course I remember! Just figured you’d have thrown it out by now.”

Your eyes widen in shock. “Why would I throw this out?”

“We didn’t speak for like, three months after that! Figured you forgot about me.”

“It was a free shirt! I wasn’t gonna waste it! Plus, that was a night to remember.”

Your words are tender, and you worry for a moment that you’ve betrayed your real feelings for him. But Van looks just as nostalgic and dreamy, nodding as he runs his fingers through his hair.

“It was, wasn’t it?”

There’s a beat of silence as you both remember that night, and then you both get up, preparing to make yourself presentable to the public.

\\

You’re tucked in a booth at the diner two blocks away from your house, a place where you and Mary have heavily frequented over the years. It was the perfect spot for some greasy food after your late nights out, considering it was open 24/7, and they also made some killer pancakes, perfect for mornings when she stays over and neither of you feel like making breakfast. But this time it’s you and Van settled into your usual spot, and you can see the gears turning in Van’s mind as he ponders the burger menu.

They’re not very busy tonight- probably because it was a weeknight- and the waitress is able to take your orders without much wait, and your food comes back almost as quickly. You’ve both gotten burgers and fries, and the steaming baskets placed in front of you look mouthwatering as she shuffles away, leaving you two to dig in.

Van’s gotten a classic cheeseburger, no onions, while you’ve treated yourself to the burger that included a fried egg. You didn’t get it often, but you always cursed yourself for not ordering it every single time when you remember how good it tastes. 

There’s no conversation for the first few minutes of eating, the only noise the crinkling of the paper lining in the plastic baskets. But after a sip from his bottle of beer, Van clears his throat.

“I think the waitress fancies you,” He says quietly.

His words instantly jar you. Crushing on the same sex was a complicated ritual, a delicate balance of over-friendliness while trying to avoid seeming like a creep in case the girl was straight. You’d never had any sort of playful interactions with your waitress, although she’s served you and Mary plenty of times. 

“What makes you say that?” You ask.

Van hunches over slightly, subtly trying to come in closer as he chews on a fry. “Okay, well, as soon as we got in here she started whispering,” He tells you, carefully looking around for her. “And then the second we sat down she basically ran over here and was being all nice to you. And I dunno. She was blushing when she took your order.”

You shake your head and take a sip of your lemonade. “I’m pretty sure Alexis has a boyfriend. Maybe they’re broken up now, I dunno. Mary and I heard her getting into an argument with someone in the parking lot the last time we were here.” Even as you reject his suspicions your cheeks heat up, and you fuss with your shirt self consciously. Alexis had an influencer look to her, with tanned skin and black hair so smooth and straight you were sure it was mostly extensions. There was no denying she was gorgeous, but every girl in the city was. 

“A boyfriend don’t mean nothin’,” Van insists. “Look at you!”

You choke on your bite of burger as you laugh. Your cough is loud in the small space, and you notice Alexis peers over at you where she’s dutifully bussing the front counter.

“Not everyone is bi just because I am,” You tell Van. 

He only shrugs. “Didn’t say that. It’s a possibility, that’s all.”

You shake your head. “I think she’s crushing on you, actually.”

“Me? Hell no. I’m a fucking toad.”

You roll your eyes. “Not true. And you’ve got that accent. Even the nurses were swooning over it.”

Before Van can argue, you two both sense Alexis approaching your booth.

“I’ll get you another lemonade,” She nods to your almost-empty glass. “Do you want another?” She asks Van about his beer, but he shakes his head.

“I’m alright. Cheers, though.”

She giggles as she trots off, and both of you look at one another with your eyebrows raised in a see? Sort of expression. 

\\

The sun is starting to set as Van pays the bill, and the air has cooled when you two exit the diner. You’re light on your feet, giggling as you and Van resume your argument over how you wanted to split the bill. You two are halfway across the pavement, Van jabbing at you with his elbow at something you’ve just said, when you hear the clatter of the rusty bell the diner keeps tied to their door. 

You two keep joking, disregarding the sound, until you hear someone call softly: “Hey!”

At this you two suddenly go quiet, turning to see Alexis approaching. There’s another waitress behind her, the one she’d been giggling with when you two had entered. You both stay rooted in place as they make their way to you.

“Sorry,” Alexis says immediately. “I didn’t wanna interrupt your meal, and this is so weird, but… Do you mind if we get a picture?”

Both girls are radiating nerves, their eyes glued to Van. looking at their wide, starstruck eyes makes the entire evening make sense. The blushing, the whispering. Van had misread the situation this entire time. They were fans.

As soon as they’ve broached the question, Van’s shoulders relax, his usual breeziness immediately resuming. “Oh, deffo,” He tells them, untucking his hands from the pockets of his jeans. “For sure, for sure. How are you guys?”

They both rush to answer his question, stammering and speaking over each other. You’re momentarily forgotten, his attention entirely dedicated to his conversation with them. You’re a bit amused at how they react to his intense eye contact, freezing up and stuttering over their sentences. It’s the exact same reaction you tend to have when he sets his sights on you like that.

The pictures only take a moment, each of the girls holding the phone for the other. But even after the pictures are done, Van gestures with his left hand absentmindedly.

“Have you got anything for me to sign?” He asks them, but neither of them do. “Go get my receipt,” Van tells Alexis, “I’ll sign that.”

The two girls hurry off, practically falling over their feet as they go. Once they’ve disappeared inside of the building Van remembers you exist.

He smiles in amusement, a secret inside joke over how starstruck they are, and you instantly feel included again, beaming back at him. The bell on the door rings again, both of them returning. Alexis has the bill Van just paid, and the other waitress has the pad of paper she records orders on, and Van signs both with a Sharpie they’d grabbed on their way out before he exchanges final goodbye hugs with them. Once they’ve walked back inside, giggling with each other the whole way, you two finally finish your walk to the Range Rover. 

“I’m sorry about that,” Van says immediately when you’re alone in the car. In the business of the fans you’d forgotten that you were supposed to be the one driving home, and Van’s the one that reverses out of the parking spot.

“Are you alright to drive?” You ask him worriedly, remembering the beer he’d ordered.

Van huffs out a laugh. “I’m fine.” The diner is so close to your place you’re already well on your way home by the time he passes under the stoplight in front of the building. 

“Alright. And don’t be sorry. I thought it was sweet.”

Van chuckles. “Sweet?”

“Yeah! They were so nervous. And the way you made them go get something for you to sign was so nice. You could’ve just taken the pics and left.”

“Yeah. When there’s nobody else around and I can take a second with them I like to do that. It doesn’t happen often, one or two people approaching me. Either I go without being recognized or I’m getting mobbed. Which, I’m proper surprised I got recognized. I never am in the States.”

“It was a strange coincidence,” You agree. “You’d never think the waitress that serves me and Mary all the time was a secret Catfish fan. And, by the way, I was right! She had a crush on you, not me!”

The car is stopped at a red light, and Van throws his hands up quickly in a show of surrender. “You were right, I’ll give you that. But we’ll find someone for you, don’t worry.”

You turn to look out of the window, hiding your blush from Van. How was he supposed to help you find someone when they were already sitting in the fucking car with you?

\\

In a strange- but pleasant- turn of events, Van doesn’t go home. On Wednesday he runs home to grab his MacBook and some fresh clothes, and on Thursday morning he shaves over your bathroom sink as you wiggle around him trying to get ready for work.

“Good luck with your meeting,” You call to him as you stuff things into your work tote. The band had some sort of Zoom call with their U.K. label. Van already told you what the meeting was about, but you’ve forgotten.

“Good luck with yours!” He shouts back. “Tell them I’m rooting for them!”

You’ve got a meeting today with the two founders of the THC water. You roll your eyes even though Van isn’t in the living room to see. “I absolutely will not! Bye!”

As you close the door on the morning commotion, surrounded instead by the peaceful quiet of your little street, you smile to yourself. You’ve been living alone for over a year now, and you’ve forgotten how pleasant the chaos of someone else being around can be. When you get along with them, that is. The chaos of living with an unbearable roommate is the whole reason you wanted to be alone to begin with. But you and Van seem to make it work just fine.

Your meeting goes just as you’d expected. The research budget is draining, but the boys insist you keep going, their belief in their idea still going strong. When you present the budget and the plan for your future work they make your workload easy by having to cut half of what you’d intended to do. They leave discouraged, and Van’s support for them rings through your mind. You make a mental note to put a little extra effort into their project, pro bono. At the very least, maybe you could make some calls and find someone more experienced in THC marketing that would be willing to meet with them.

You had felt your phone buzzing with texts during the meeting, but you don’t get a chance to look your notifications over until your lunch break. You’ve decided to take your break out of the office today, walking the short distance to the little coffee shop you frequent. 

There’s a text from Van asking about the meeting, and you regretfully inform him that things were going exactly as you predicted.

Mary’s sent you a picture that takes a second to load, only her message underneath visible at first: Tell me why Alexis just tweeted this last night??

The picture is a screenshot from Mary’s twitter app. There’s a tweet from @A_lexi_s that reads: Ya’ll I met Van McCann how is this my actual lifeee. She’s attached the picture you’d watched Van pose for in the parking lot. His arm is draped over her shoulders, an easy grin on his face. The breeze has made his hair a bit disheveled, and the wrinkles in his button up are visible where she’s got both of her arms wrapped around his waist. She’s absolutely glowing beside him, her waist length hair shining and her smile bright and perfect. You hadn’t realized she had eyelash extensions until now, seeing how the extra length of her lashes perfectly frame her eyes.

It’s a great picture. You don’t think you’ve ever taken a picture on the fly and looked as good as she did. In response to Mary you send back You follow Alexis on twitter?

Mary’s message pops up in your notification bar as you scroll through Instagram and munch at the bagel you’ve ordered. You don’t?! 

Before you can ask how Mary even got her handle Mary sends two messages in quick succession: That’s not the point, and This is!

Before you can question what “this” is, a third message comes through, another screenshot. 

It’s the replies to Alexis’s tweet. You recognize her coworker in the icon of one of the replies, her response a string of hearts. Someone else has asked who is that, and then someone else has responded with omg where did you meet him???!?

Alexis hasn’t replied to anyone except the last user. I served him at work!

The person has replied back Was he nice? With an emoji making an uncertain sort of face.

He was! You read Alexis’s tweet back to them. Very polite and he tipped well lol!

Was he with the band or eating alone, the user wants to know.

With a girl! I’ve served her before she’s always super sweet. 

The replies end there, Alexis’s words putting a cold pit of dread in your stomach. 

Instantly your mind starts racing. Do you tell Van? Keep it a secret? You check Alexis’s followers. 4k. Not a huge number, but there’s obviously people in that mix that know who Catfish is. Was this info going to blow up out of proportion?

You don’t reply to Mary, and spend the rest of the day debating if and how you should bring this up to Van. You push your worries aside long enough to get your work done, but the whole drive home you start to feel sick. Things felt like they were going so good. You loved having Van over and you two had been getting along so well. Now this gossip will probably scare him off. 

Still, you know honesty is the best policy. That’s why when you get home, interrupting Van as he watches something on TV, you don’t have it in you to greet him with the same enthusiasm he welcomes you with.

“Was the meeting that bad?” Van notices your energy is off immediately, sitting up straight. 

You take a shaky breath. Maybe if you were calm, you could show Van these screenshots in such a nonchalant way that he wouldn’t care. You knew your anxiety was only making everything a bigger deal. Yet, you couldn’t help it. Your heart felt certain that everything was fucked up now.

“Um. I have something to show you,” You tell him, sitting down on the couch next to him. 

Van’s brows furrow in worry as you pull up your texting exchange with Mary.

“Mary sent me these,” You tell him as you hand over your phone, letting him read the screenshots on his own.

His brows stay furrowed as his eyes skim over the tweet and its replies, and then his expression relaxes when he understands.

He hands you the phone back gently. “She said I’m nice and I tip well,” He laughs. 

You don’t have it in you to laugh along with him.

Van looks a little hurt that you don’t joke with him. “What’s wrong? Are you that embarrassed to be seen with me? Christ.”

You look up at him in shock that he read you so wrong. “Aren’t you worried about this blowing up into some big rumor?”

Van laughs at that. Like throws his head back, genuinely laughs. “I’m fucking twenty-six years old, Y/N, I don’t care what people on social media are saying. One time I took my necklace off to go through airport security and forgot to put it back on and this giant rumor started that my folks, like, disowned me or something. Shit on there does not make the slightest bit of sense. That’s why I stay away from it.”

Your nerves are still shot from the fear of Van wanting nothing to do with you, but you start to relax at how he brushes the entire thing off. 

“You’re so tense,” Van points out after you stay quiet. “Want me to roll us a smoke?”

You do, and while he goes to get the weed tray you head to your room to change. Alone in your bedroom, you let out the breath you feel like you’ve been holding all afternoon. For once, luck was on your side with Van. 

\\

On Monday morning when you rush to silence your blaring alarm, you’re alone in your bed. 

Not because Van’s left, because he hasn’t. By the weekend he was already too committed to staying at your place, citing the fact he had absolutely zero food at his own. There was no use in going back home and trying to order groceries or clean up, he’d argued, because the boys were leaving for the next leg of the tour on Tuesday. For the record, you couldn’t care less about his reasoning. You’d listened politely, nodded along and assured him he was welcome, all while repressing the urge to jump for joy. 

He’s not in bed this morning because he couldn’t sleep. His full recovery from his strep meant that he was no longer exhausted, back to his usual bouncy self. Last night you’d left him on the couch, watching some sort of British show that was available on Netflix, and then had been woken at God-knows-what hour of the night to Van slipping into your room and grabbing your guitar. He’s taken to playing in the guest bedroom when he needs to be quiet, even though there’s no furniture in there and he has to sit on the floor against the wall.

When you stumble out of your bedroom, rubbing your eyes, the whole living room is dark except for the flashing lights of the TV on mute. Van’s lumpy form is curled up on the couch, fast asleep on a decorative pillow with throw blanket on top of him. The blanket is way too small for his height, and his legs are completely uncovered, his bare feet exposed to the chilly morning air of the house. 

You leave him be and head for the kitchen, switching on the lights so that you can start to get some coffee brewing. While that’s going you jump in the shower, mentally trying to prepare for the day ahead of you. After work you’ve got Benji’s birthday dinner, and tomorrow morning you had to drop Van off at the airport. This week of domestic bliss would be coming to a close. You dreaded it already.

Your robe is actually clean for once, a direct result of Van learning to use your washer and dryer. He throws a load of your clothes in anytime he needs to wash his briefs or the t-shirt he’s been sleeping in, and now you were actually caught up on the laundry. He couldn’t take all the credit, though, because you’re the one who actually folds the clothes. If Van had it his way, everything clean would be in a rumpled pile on the floor. 

When you emerge from the bathroom, wrapped in your fluffy robe with your towel dried hair, Van’s awake.

“Hey,” You greet him before turning the corner into the kitchen. You prepare yourself a mug of coffee before returning back to the living room. “When did you go to bed?”

Van shuffles over on the couch, making room for you to sit with him. “I dunno,” He yawns. “Lost track of time.”

You flick the floor lamp behind the couch on, the space basked in light before you sit down on the cushion Van’s cleared for you. Van searches for the remote in the cracks of the couch for a minute before he finds it, flicking the television off. 

“Write anything good?” You ask, taking a sip of your drink.

Van fusses with the throw blanket, trying to make it cover his folded legs. He nods. “I’ve had some scrap verses that I couldn’t find a place for. Finally wrote a nice chorus for them last night.”

He reaches for his pack of cigarettes on the table. He doesn’t ask if you want one anymore, automatically plucking one out of the box for you. 

“So…” You take your first drag of the day, even if 6:30 A.M. is way too early to be having a cigarette. “Who gets to hear these songs?”

Van was always writing. Always jotting down things in his notebook, always audio recording bits of melodies with his phone. But you’d never gotten to hear a finished song, or read any of these lyrics. You didn’t want to pry, but his enthusiasm for the things he’d been creating lately made you curious. 

Van scratches at his stubble. “Nobody, at first,” He says. “Unless it’s love at first listen, like this one is. So I’ll probably play this one for the boys soon. But I save mostly everything until it’s time for the new album, and by then I sort of know what my favorites are. Pick a few of those, then we’ll we write the rest around them.”

“What about me?” You decide to ask, keeping your voice light and joking. “When do I get to hear them?”

Van grins. “When the fourth album is out, duh.”

You scoff at the unfairness, before quickly composing yourself. “Fine. But if we hate each other by then I’m not listening.”

Van pretends to be wounded, hand to his chest. “Hate each other? You’re my best mate!”

You shrug as you take another sip of coffee.

Van wiggles into your personal space, resting his body against yours. You catch a whiff of your shampoo as he leans his head on your shoulder, and can tell from the waves in his hair that he’d taken a shower last night to pass the time.

He knocks your balance, almost spilling your coffee. “Van,” You glare at him. 

He blinks up at you in mock innocence. “How could you hate me?” He pouts. “Because I want you to hear a full, cohesive album? Aren’t I your best mate?”

You pat the crown of his head. “You’re my best friend,” You correct his British vocabulary. “But Mary has seniority, so be careful.”

“And friends can fight,” You point out. “You can ruin a friendship like anything else.”

Because it’s true. You two could find out you disagree on something fundamental, like human rights. Or the connection could fade with time and distance, as has happened with many of your friends back home. Or everything could be royally screwed up by unrequited love, for example. That’s an example, obviously. It’s not like you were sitting here with Van’s body pressed to yours, breathing in the scent of his clean hair as your stomach already ached with how much you would miss having him around because you were terribly, hopelessly in love with him and he didn’t feel the same. 

“Nah, not us,” Van shrugs you off, sitting up so that he was supporting his own weight now. “We’re solid.”

“Hmm,” You hum thoughtfully. Then, as you lift your mug to your mouth: “Are you pro-choice?”

It’s Van’s turn to scoff. “Course I am! It’s your body, innit?”

When he realizes how you two have never discussed this, his expression turns from indignation to confusion. “Aren’t you?”

Your laughter echoes through the silent house.

\\

Considering the fact you’ll be up late tonight for the birthday celebrations and up early tomorrow morning to see Van off, you throw yourself into work today. The less you had on your to-do list tomorrow, the better. By the end of the day you’re satisfied with what you’ve gotten done, and relieved that you’d been so distracted you’ve forgotten to be anxious about the dinner tonight.

You return home at the end of your workday to a silent house. Van is burrowed in your bed, comforter pulled over his head, the curtains in the room drawn tight.

“You’re still sleeping?” You ask, poking at his legs through the comforter while you get undressed. 

He really is sleeping, because he doesn’t respond. You tug the comforter down away from his face, watching his nose scrunch in displeasure. 

“What time is it?” He whispers, struggling to tug the blanket back over his eyes. You don’t let him.

“It’s about to be six,” You tell him, leaving the side of his bed so you can finish getting dressed. The reservation wasn’t until eight, but you might as well throw your outfit on now. You had a pretty good idea of what the boys would be showing up in, so you’ve picked out your own clothes accordingly. You’ve just bought a new baby blue tank top for your work wardrobe, with fabric so light and flowy it was like crepe paper. You throw some dark jeans on to keep it casual, and grab a dark cardigan off of the hanger so you don’t forget it. 

Van is awake, squinting up at his phone screen. 

“You gotta get ready,” You remind him.

“Gonna take me about six seconds,” He replies, his voice stiff.

You ignore him, closing the bedroom door behind you when you leave. You’re starting to learn that grumpy, exhausted Van wasn’t worth getting worked up over. You immediately head to the kitchen, getting a pot of coffee started. You weren’t usually one to have an evening cup, but Van was. You cut yourself up a bruised apple that’s been sitting in your crisper for a bit too long, and scrape the bottom of the peanut butter jar to make yourself a snack to hold you over until dinner.

You bring your paper plate into the other room, settling yourself at the table. The coffee machine has just finished warming up, getting noisier in preparation to run the hot water over the grinds, when Van finally emerges from your room.

“Coffee?” He grumbles, stumbling into the kitchen before he realizes it’s still brewing. He redirects himself to the bathroom, taking a piss with the door open before he finds his way back to the table. 

“For you,” You tell him around a bite of peanut butter covered apple. 

He perks up at that. “For me?”

“Yeah,” You keep your tone indifferent, hoping he realizes that he’s pissed you off. You think he does, because he stays silent until you hear the machine sputter, signaling the end of the brewing cycle. Van immediately jumps up, heading into the kitchen to pour himself a cup.

He comes back with two mugs. One is filled with black coffee, for him, and the other has milk in it. He places the one with milk down in front of you.

“I don’t drink coffee this late,” You inform him. You’d planned on having a cup, but Van didn’t need to know that.

“We’re gonna be up late.”

You’re both silent except for the sound as you bite into your apple slice, and the noise of Van setting his mug down. 

“Sorry I was a dick. I’m fucking wiped out.” 

“I know,” You sigh. With his apology, your mood has cleared, and you slide your paper plate towards him slightly. “Want some apples and peanut butter?”

Van shakes his head. “Apples make my teeth shift. Drives me nuts.”

You tug the plate back towards you. “More for me.”

\\

You two were supposed to leave at 7:30, but as always Van is running late. Why exactly, you don’t know. When the Uber pulls up outside, struggling not to block the entire street, Van is still in his socks, fussing with his hair in the bathroom.

“Uber’s here!” You call, but Van can’t hear you over the sound of the blowdryer. You repeat yourself in the bathroom doorway, watching Van style his hair with the dryer and a brush. 

As Van finishes shaping his waves into a presentable shape, you notice in the mirror that his hair’s gotten longer. 

“How often do you get your hair cut?” You ask as he unplugs the blowdryer, rushing past you to stuff his feet into his boots. 

“Dunno,” He shrugs. “We’ve got a stylist on tour. She gives me a quick trim whenever I need it.”

Van never seemed to have a solid concept of time. It seemed like he just floated through life, sleeping, eating and performing whenever, wherever. Unlike you, who had to look over your calendar app multiple times a day. You sigh at his vague answer, sliding your cardigan on and grabbing your bag. 

It’s 7:50 by the time the Uber is pulling away.

“We’re not gonna be there in time,” You tell Van after you check the time on your phone. The driver is grumpy that he had to wait on the two of you for ten minutes, and is brooding in the front seat. It’s making you uncomfortable, but Van seems oblivious.

“Bob’ll be there,” He shrugs. “He’s always early. Bet Bondy’ll be later than us.”

“So Bob’s just supposed to sit there alone?”

“I’m sure Blakes is there! They don’t like being late, those two.”

You raise your eyebrows. “And you do?”

“I don’t mean to be!” Van sighs, frustrated. “Christ, woman.”

You cut him some slack, deciding to drop the subject. 

You two arrive almost twenty minutes late, Van scrambling to give the driver a ten dollar bill as you two rush into the building. Once he informs the hostess of your reservation you two are led out of the lobby and into the familiar dining area. 

You spot the table that you and Van had eaten at, momentarily lost in your reminiscing as the hostess leads you away from that dining room and around the corner to tonight’s table. You’re in your own private room tonight, which hosts two large circular tables, five seats each. Only one is being used, Bob and Benji looking up as soon as you two enter the space.

Nobody gives Van any shit about being late, and Van doesn’t offer any apologies. Bob is sitting next to Benji, and Van slides into the empty seat on the other side of Bob. You sit down next to Van, and that means that Bondy will be sitting between you and Benji. You feel relieved with how the seating works out. It’s always strange being sat next to someone you didn’t know that well, but Bondy was enough of a familiar face that you didn’t mind. 

Bread has already been served, and Van reaches for the basket eagerly while you’re distracted admiring the decor. There were still the glossy white floors and the dark walls, but this area lacked any of the windows looking out onto the courtyard. Instead, the walls boasted a collection of impressive looking paintings. One catches your eye in particular, a renaissance style oil painting that depicted a woman preparing a loaf of fresh bread. It was in the sort of style where the humans don’t look very realistic, her face and arms painted with curvy, disproportionate strokes. Her dress is covered in intricate designs and bright colors. 

“Whatcha looking at?” Van interrupts your thoughts, mouth full as he chews a bread roll. 

“That painting,” You nod to the one of the woman with the bread.

Van looks it over carefully as he swallows his bite of food. “Kinda looks like my mum,” He says finally.

At this you dissolve into a fit of giggles.

“What’s so funny?” Bob asks, a smile blooming on his face only because he’s watching you and Van laugh. 

Van gestures to the painting. “Doesn’t that look like my mum? Blakes? She looks just like me mum!”

Both boys crane their heads to look at the painting. “It does,” Bob agrees quietly, smiling to himself as he returns to looking over the menu. When Benji turns back towards you guys he looks repulsed.

“Van, that doesn’t even look like a person,” He insists.

Van gestures passionately with his hands. “Oh really, because everyone agrees! It looks like my mum!”

It’s this moment that Bondy’s chosen to join everyone, trailing in behind the hostess as gets him settled with a menu in the seat next to you. Nobody seems to mind her presence, Van and Benji bickering like noone’s watching. 

When she’s gone, Bondy looks up from his menu with a confused smile. “What’s this about?” He asks you, because you’re letting them battle this out between themselves. 

“Van says the woman in that painting looks like his mom,” You try to discreetly point to the one you’re talking about.

Bondy shifts in his seat so that he’s closer to you, trying to figure out exactly where you’re pointing. “The one that looks like the virgin Mary?”

There’s a painting near the one you’re referencing that clearly has heavy religious influence, although you’re not positive if it’s a painting of Mary. “Below it,” You correct Bondy. “The one making bread.”

Van and Benji have started to quiet, but both jump to attention at Bondy’s deep, throaty laugh.

“It does, it does,” Bondy agrees, and this starts them up again.

They settle when the waitress turns the corner, prepared to take their orders now that everyone’s arrived. 

“Do you want the wine we got last time?” Van stage whispers to you as the waitress hovers around Bob, carefully noting what he’s pointing out on the menu. You nod eagerly, remembering how it tasted. The freedom of not having to worry about driving home means that you’re eager to start drinking as soon as possible and loosen up. 

When the waitress gets around to Van, he orders his usual lobster and a bottle of the wine for you two. You settle on the chicken parmesan, and listen as next to you Bondy orders the roast dinner. Then your menus are carried away, and the chatter starts up again.

“So you agree?” Van jerks his head to ask you. “That looks like my mum?”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. Debates between the boys can go on forever, fueled by each of them always wanting the last word. “I don’t even know what your mom looks like.”

Van pauses, realizing this is true. “You’ve never seen a picture?”

“Where the fuck would I see a picture of your mom?” You laugh.

“Dunno… The internet?”

You actually cackle at this, even if it makes Benji look at you from across the table. “Do you think I like, sit around googling you? What should I search up? Van McCann’s mom? I’ll get right on that.”

Even Bondy snorts from where he’s engrossed in his phone. 

Bondy’s snort at his expense has Van narrowing his eyes, gazing past you at Bondy. “Texting your girl, John?”

At this you jerk your head to look Bondy. “You have a girlfriend?”

Bondy rolls his eyes at Van before setting his phone down. “A gentleman can’t say,” He teases.

“You can’t say if you have a girlfriend?” You laugh. “I don’t think that’s a real rule.”

You knew from dressing room conversation that Bob and Benji were seeing someone, but Bondy’s never spoken about his romantic life.

“Is she British, too?” You decide to ask.

Bondy takes a long sip of his ice water. “She’s not my girlfriend.” He aims this dig at Van, glaring at him. “But she’s from here, actually. She’s in London for work. But that’s all I’ll say, I don’t wanna jinx anything.” He holds up his hands, and you know that’s his way of politely shutting down any more questions.

“He’s been after her forever,” Van pipes up, ignoring Bondy’s attempt to close the topic. “She’s finally done with her bloke.”

“He’s finally got a proper chance,” Benji grins.

It feels like a family dinner, the way everyone bickers. The food is finally served, and it takes forever to eat with everyone too engrossed in conversation. Benji’s digging into the roast chicken entree you got last time you were here, and Bob’s picking at some sort of creamy pasta. Everyone drinks except Bob, and the waitress is scary good at bringing beer for Bondy and Benji whenever they’re running low, and delivering freshly chilled bottles of wine for you and Van. 

There’s not a moment that feels awkward. Just like at soundcheck, everyone loves using you to pick at Van, and your heart feels so full and warm from the atmosphere that you don’t mind. It used to be overwhelming at first, but you realize you’ve gotten much more comfortable interacting with the four of them all at once. 

You’re in a wine-induced haze as everyone heads out to the parking lot. Patrons in the regular dining area go silent, glaring at the five of you as you all laugh way too loudly at a joke. Soon you’re out in the warm summer breeze, headed for Bob’s car. 

He’s got a small sedan that only seats four. Bondy calls shotgun immediately, tucking himself into the front seat, and then it’s up to you, Van, and Benji to decide on the seating arrangement in the back.

Before your anxiety can even get a headstart on worrying, Van puts a hand on your back, leading you over to the driver’s passenger side. He climbs in first before motioning for you to sit in his lap. You’re thankful it’s dark enough that nobody can see the blush that starts burning on your cheeks.

“Put your seatbelt on,” You tell him, and Van obliges before reaching for you again. You crouch down, sliding into a sitting position on top of Van’s thighs. You feel him stretch underneath you as he grabs for the door, closing it securely.

Nobody says anything about your seating arrangement, but you’re still so self conscious you could combust on the spot. You try to shift your weight around.

“Am I squishing you?” You ask Van quietly as Bob starts to back out of his parking spot. You hunch your shoulders, lowering your head so that he can see behind him in the rearview mirror.

“Not at all,” Van says, and then you feel his arms slide around your waist, pulling you close to him.

You’re stiff as a board as the car pulls onto the road, careful to shift your weight as forward as possible, trying not to smush Van between you and the seat. But he tugs you back by your waist until you’ve relented, allowing your weight to press against him. Forever unbothered by other’s opinions, he hooks his chin over your shoulder, closing his eyes serenely. Your hands come to his forearms, one of your thumbs starting to rub back and forth, feeling the hairs on his arm ruffle with every swipe.

None of the boys even give you two a second glance. Bondy is helping Bob navigate to his house, and Benji’s on his phone, the glow of his screen lighting up the dark car. The drive is longer than you expected, and eventually you relax fully, tipping your head so that it was gently resting against Van’s, feeling his breath on your ear the rest of the way. 

You can’t help the stab of disappointment when the car lulls to a stop, Bob finally having pulled up at Bondy’s. You try to shake off the drowsiness that the car ride and glasses of wine have left hovering around you as everyone climbs out of the car and heads inside. 

While Van’s house is more classic-L.A.-bachelor-pad, Bondy’s house has a heavy Spanish influence. Missing are the clean, stark-white floors and dark walls typical in the newer homes. Instead, warm hardwood extends in every direction, interrupted only by plush rugs with rich colors. There’s at least one eccentric, abstract piece of art adorning every wall, and guitars are everywhere. Some are hung with the art, and you spend a moment hovering by his stone fireplace, admiring a very used guitar with someone’s illegible signature on it. And there are others that it’s clear he uses, one propped by the plush armchair, some on a storage rack by a large potted plant. 

The ceilings are insanely high, supported by thick wooden beams that keep the extra space from feeling empty. You gaze around in awe, mentally debating whether you prefer Bondy’s decor over Van’s.

While you’re distracted, the boys make themselves at home. Van and Bob get lost in conversation in the foyer, where they’re supposed to be taking their shoes off and hanging their jackets. Bondy has already headed to the kitchen to start the drinks, and Benji made a beeline for the bathroom, clearly comfortable with the layout of the house.

As if synchronized, the moment that the flush of the toilet sounds from the hall, Van and Bob emerge from the foyer, everyone stumbling towards the kitchen at once. Van hangs back for a second, waiting for you to stop flicking through one of the coffee table books.

“This is so cool,” You look up to see Van watching you in amusement. “Have you looked through this?”

It’s titled 1000 Record Covers. Every page is dedicated to a photo of album artwork, with minimal captions describing the source. You know Van’s waiting but you’re too intrigued.

“I have,” Van says, his voice gentle with understanding. “You can spend hours going over everything.”

You close the thick, hardcover book with a satisfying thud, and catch up to Van. He slings an arm around your shoulder, warm and comforting, and suddenly you’re regretting this afterparty. It’s lovely to be in Bondy’s home, but you wish you could be spending your last night with Van snuggled up in the comfort of your own bed. 

Bondy’s kitchen is as gorgeous as the living room. A large, square island takes up the center of the room, counters and appliances running along the walls. Everyone makes themselves at home, reaching into cabinets and shuffling around as you’re all responsible for your own drinks. 

Van grabs a beer from the fridge, and helps you navigate the kitchen as you make yourself a Diet Coke and vodka. It transports you back to your college days when you take a sip, remembering the nights where your goal was to get as drunk as possible, as fast as possible. Now you typically enjoy a more tactful (and better tasting) approach, but it’s clear the boys mean business tonight. As soon as everyone has their drinks, Bondy has procured shot glasses and is starting to splash tequila into them. 

Even Bob is cajoled into taking one. The entire night has consisted of cheers to Benji turning 29, and this shot is not an exception. After cheersing over Benji’s birthday you all down your glasses before heading into the living room. Bondy and Van struggle to get a fire going, but eventually one is roaring and everyone gets cozy on the couches, the endless stream of conversation picking up right where it left off at the restaurant.

Van slings his arm over the back of the couch, so essentially around you as well. You’re tucked into Van’s side, sipping idly at your drink while the others talk. The conversation has somehow migrated to the band, and you don’t have much to contribute. Before you know it, your glass is empty.

You don’t rush to fill it, knowing you’ll make the same mistake of downing your next one too quickly. You wait for Van to finish his beer, your body occasionally jostled when he talks with his hands, lifting the arm behind you to gesture. 

The fire makes the space a bit warm for comfort, and when Van asks you to hold his beer bottle the cold glass feels nice.

“I’m gonna down this,” You warn Van, peering down the neck of the bottle to see what’s left. It’s only a couple of inches, a few nice gulps. You see him look over at you in your peripheral vision.

You look up and Van’s smiling. “Go ahead, love,” He chuckles, but he doesn’t tune back into the conversation. He’s waiting to see you do it, so now you can’t back down.

You hate the taste of beer, but it’s bearable because it’s cold. When you’re finished you hand Van the now-empty bottle and beam at him. “Now come get another drink with me.”

You trail after him into the kitchen, where he grabs himself another beer. 

“I’ll have one too,” You say quickly where you’re leaning against the counter next to the fridge. The marble is cool under your palms, and you wish you could press your face into it. You don’t know how long you consider doing it before you realize Van hasn’t passed you a bottle, and is staring at you with his eyebrows raised instead. 

“What?” You giggle.

“I’ve never seen you drink beer, that’s all,” Van shrugs before he grabs another bottle. He uses the bottle opener set out on the counter before passing you your very own ice-cold drink. 

“It’s so nasty,” You confess, contradicting yourself by taking a sip. “But I’m so fucking hot and this is cold.”

“You do look pretty warm,” Van points out. You can feel your body radiating heat, sweat forming at your hairline. You don’t know if it’s from the wine, the vodka, or the fire. 

Van looks reluctant to head back into the other room, taking a swig of his own beer as he leans his hip against the counter. Your eyes roam over him. His cheeks are pink, too, and any effort to style his hair has gone to waste by now, the waves falling into his face. He looks so happy, like he has all night. It’s as if joking around with everyone has lit him up from the inside out, and now you just wanted to be alone with him and bask in the glow of a nice night out.

Without a second thought you pop up onto your tiptoes, pressing your mouth to Van’s. 

You’re startled by the noise of Van setting his beer down, both of his hands reaching for you instead, pulling you closer. For a moment everything is off kilter, the balance of the moment disrupted. You’d only been prepared for a quick kiss but Van’s desire for more is evident as he keeps you close, kissing you again, and again. Your body only needs to borrow the spark of Van’s attraction before you feel the heat in your belly, a full fire burning for him under your skin. 

It’s during that third kiss that you both hear someone call Van’s name, the two of you jerking apart. Your hands fly to your hair self-consciously, easing your fingertips through the strands that Van had just had his hands entangled in as Bondy comes into the kitchen. 

“We’re gonna break out the big E,” Bondy declares, shuffling past the two of you. He looks completely oblivious to anything that’s just happened in here, and you relax in relief. Van looks over at you with worried eyes. You furrow your eyebrows in a silent question.

Bondy’s been digging through different kitchen drawers, but suddenly he procures a zip lock baggie out of one of them, shutting the drawer with a thunk.

“Here we go!” You can tell he’s drunk by the way his voice rings loudly through the kitchen. “You want some, Van?”

The bag contains a collection of colored capsules. They look like vitamins. You hadn’t understood what he’d been referring to at first, but now it’s clear: Ecstasy.

Van looks uneasy. “Maybe in a minute, mate,” He tells Bondy, who does not seem to catch on to the lack of enthusiasm. He proceeds into the living room, hollering about what he’s got. 

You can hear Benji asking for a capsule, which makes you snort. Van looks alarmed.

“What’s wrong?” You ask him. “Are you gonna have some?”

Van’s eyes widen. “Are you gonna have some?”

You shake your head. It had crossed your mind, but probably wasn’t the best idea if you had to drive early in the morning. “But you can!”

Van hesitates before shaking his head. “Nah. It’s alright.”

You roll your eyes. The spark of your kiss minutes before has started to fizzle out with Van’s weirdness. “What’s wrong? Isn’t ecstasy, like, your favorite?”

“Nothing’s wrong. As long as you’re not uncomfortable.”

You laugh at that. “Uncomfortable? Why? I know you’ve done it!”

“I haven’t recently,” Van mumbles, sipping his beer. You remember yours, and decide to press the cold glass against your cheek after you take a sip. “And I dunno. It’s weird to be the only one in the room not blitzed out of your mind. I’ll say no with you.”

His unease makes sense now, and his concern has you stepping forward for another kiss, Van reciprocating passionately. 

“What time is it?” You ask when you pull away. You hadn’t brought your phone into the kitchen, but Van procures his from his back pocket, flashing you the time. It’s slightly past midnight. 

“One more drink and we can head back to yours?” Van suggests, and you nod in agreement.

“What are you two doing in there?” Bondy calls, all of the boys chiming in with their own teasing. Van rolls his eyes, pressing his thumb into the fingerprint sensor on his iPhone.

“Order the Uber now, you know the wait’s gonna be ages.” He passes his phone into your hands before he goes back into the living room. You immediately hear him laying into everyone, a bite of annoyance in his voice. 

You blink down at Van’s unlocked phone, handed to you so trustingly. His Instagram feed is pulled up, his favorite app for passively scrolling. You hit the home button twice to see if the Uber app was still open from your first ride tonight. 

There’s a few things running in the background, but you don’t see Uber right away. There’s Instagram (obviously), and his notes app, and you flick through the line of open applications until you see Uber, right at the end. 

But right next to it is Safari, and the preview makes you flush brighter than you already are. You can clearly see the miniature layout of a porn website, a paused video front and center. Your curiosity gets the best of you. You have to click it.

One tap of your thumb expands Safari so that it encompasses the screen. The still of the video expands, but it takes a second for your brain to understand what’s going on in the tangle of limbs on screen. It’s a woman, hunched over a man. She’s clearly riding him, evident from the focus of the shot where their two bodies are joined. PINNED DOWN AND FUCKED, the title of the video boasts in bold letters, and when you peer at the paused moment more closely you can see that the woman has two hands around the man’s neck, choking him. 

You quickly click away to the Uber app and start ordering a car, your head spinning. When you hurry into the living room to sit back down with Van and tell him when the car would be arriving, it’s clear that Bondy and Benji’s ecstasy adventure is underway. Bob’s opted out as well, and Van’s discussing how he’d like the drums to sound on the song he’s just written this morning, leaving you to ponder Van’s porn choices while you wait. 

You end up grabbing the coffee table book with the record covers again, admiring all of the artwork while you listen to the boys talk about the next leg of tour. It used to be awkward when the boys start going on about band things you couldn’t relate to, but you find that you’ve adjusted to it. They didn’t mean to exclude you; they were just passionate about their work. It feels nice to be a fly on the wall sometimes, listening to them interrupt each other in excitement. You smile to yourself at how many fans would die to be in your place right now. 

Van isn’t paying attention to his phone when the screen lights up on the coffee table. He’s too busy laughing at Bondy and Benji, who are slung over the couch opposite you three. They’re already starting to sweat, and you can tell they’re speaking faster. Benji especially tended to speak in longer, meandering sentences, and it’s clear he’s rushing to voice his jumbled thoughts. They’re discussing something about Austin Powers, which you hadn’t realized Van was so passionate about.

You grab Van’s phone, showing him that there’s an Uber notification. With a press of his thumb you see the notification that the car’s arrived.

“Alright boys, this one has to get to work tomorrow,” Van explains, heaving himself off of the couch. You follow suit, saying goodbye to everyone. Bondy and Benji reach out for hugs, and you give them one good-naturedly. Bob, who’s not craving touch like they are, gives his usual wave. You and Van stumble around the foyer, tugging your shoes on, and Van slings his jacket over his arm, and then you two head out. 

For once you’ve managed to get a female driver, and have avoided pissing her off. She’s the type who makes small talk as she navigates back to your place, and although you prefer to quietly stare out of the car window, Van clearly enjoys the attention. 

You’re both quiet as you stumble through your front door into the dark living room. Van clicks the lamp on, heading straight for the bedroom, but you head for the bathroom, eager to wash off your makeup. You’ve had it on way too long, and it feels nice to wash it all away, your skin feeling like it can finally breathe. 

In the bedroom, Van had already stripped down and changed into boxers, starfished across your comforter. 

“Are you gonna get under the covers?” You giggle, kicking your shoes in the general direction of the closet. No thoughts of neatness cross your mind as you let all of your clothes fall into a heap on the floor. You’re still flushed, and the cool air feels good on your exposed skin. You climb onto the bed in only your underwear.

Van’s eyes had been closed, but he opens them as the mattress shifts with your weight. His eyes widen when he catches sight of you topless, attempting to yank your sheets back while Van weighed them down. 

“You gonna sleep like that?” He asks, his voice high in that amused tone he gets.

“You act like you’ve never seen me naked,” You reply, finally able to tuck your body into the soft cocoon of your bed. The sheets against your stomach feel nice, and you wonder why you don’t sleep without clothes more often. 

“Never seen you sleep naked,” He points out, finally joining you under the covers.

“Well, I’m still hot!” You switch your lamp off before flopping back down, sighing happily.

You can feel your whole body thrumming with contentment. Tonight was wonderful. You felt welcomed and accepted by the boys, you were warm from plenty of alcohol and laughter, and now you were settling down for the night next to the man you loved. You can’t remember the last time that your heart felt so full. Even in your best moments, you always tended to feel a trickle of sadness, like a piece of your heart was out of place. You didn’t know why. You only knew that nights where that shadow wasn’t lurking around were few and far between; Christmas in your hometown, sleepovers with Mary where you two stayed up giggling about nothing like you were kids. But now you could add tonight to the list. Everything in the world just felt right.

That’s why you feel compelled to snuggle up to Van, kissing his neck without hesitation. 

Van’s body stiffens. “What’re you doin’?”

His lack of immediate reciprocation might send you into a spiral any other night, but tonight you’re blissfully free from inhibitions, continuing to mouth at his pulse point. 

“It’s our last night,” You murmur into his ear, smiling when you feel him shiver. “Let’s do it the right way.”

Van’s time in L.A. has completely slipped through your fingers. Between the strep throat fiasco and your busy workweek, there’s been no extra energy or time to fool around. Your bodies have been running on different frequencies all week; either Van’s in the mood and you’re not, or you’re in the mood and Van’s finally catching some much-needed sleep, or there’s the nights where you had your mind set on messing around, but had fallen asleep as soon as you’d laid down.

Van tucks a finger under your chin, tugging you away from his neck before connecting your lips with his. You recall how he’d kissed you at Bondy’s, the way he’d surprised you with his urgency. It gets that fire going all over again, and you seat yourself on his thighs, still hunched over to kiss him. 

Van’s too close to his edge of the bed, your knee dangerously balanced on the mattress. “Scoot in,” You instruct him, and your bodies rub together as he shuffles towards the center. While he’s adjusting his hips you get your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, attempting to tug them down. You don’t get very far.

You climb off of him, dealing with your own underwear while Van kicks his boxers down around his ankles. It feels so good to climb back on him again, to feel the warm muscle of his thigh press right against the tenderness of your clit. The sensation makes you jump, which only provides friction. You hadn’t realized how slick you were until you realize you’ve gotten Van’s thigh damp. You curiously run your fingers over his skin, unable to help your small gasp of surprise when you realize how much you’d smeared on him. You’d been oblivious to how bad your body was craving him.

You lean over to kiss Van again, pressing his lips apart the same as he’d done to you earlier. He tastes like beer and Diet Coke and vodka.

“You had a lot to drink,” Van murmurs when you pull away. You realize that you were the one who tasted like the Coke and vodka.

You pause the kissing momentarily, instead nuzzling into his neck. You were well past tipsy, but nowhere near blacking out. If this was someone you’d never met, going further wouldn’t be appropriate. But cuddled up to Van, breathing in his scent, you give another happy sigh. With Van, this was a no-brainer. 

“Not enough to not know what I’m doing,” You tell him. It’s definitely true. You would remember this tomorrow, even if the memory will be a bit fuzzy. 

You lean away from his neck, admiring his beautiful face. “And you’re my best friend. It’s safe.”

Your words don’t come out exactly right, but Van’s expression softens as he gazes back up at you. You had meant you were safe with Van. Because you knew it was true. You had been to plenty of sketchy parties with your ex-girlfriend, who was on the hunt for the cheapest coke she could get her hands on. You’d seen bonfires escalate from a joint being passed around to people shooting up heroin behind closed bedroom doors. You’d been approached by shifty, jittery men more times than you could count, towering over you as you struggled through the weed to figure out how you were going to get out of there. It was only pure luck that nothing dangerous had ever happened. 

But at a party where people were blatantly peddling coke, Van turned them down like he’d never done it. In the presence of four men that were all various levels of inebriated, it never crossed your mind that anything would go amiss. You trusted Van with every bone in your body, and you hope you convey that message as you lean in for a kiss. 

“Alright,” Van replies. He uses a hand on the back of your neck to tip your head down, giving your forehead a quick kiss. “If you’re sure.”

“I am,” You chirp, happy to have gotten your way. When you sit up again, you yawn. “Condoms are in there.”

Van twists to slide open the drawer of his nightstand, procuring the large value box of Trojans you’d purchased at his suggestion. “You shouldn’t have!” He teases, popping the box open to grab one of the packets. “You want me to put it on now?”

You nod. Clearly from Van’s thigh you were in no real need of foreplay, and you were eager to get started. Van gives himself a few firm pumps before expertly rolling the condom on. 

Getting into position over him makes your heart start to race. You loved riding Van, the way he went absolutely nuts when he couldn’t control every single little thing. 

“You’re not too drunk, right?” You ask when you’re ready to lower down. You had no idea how many glasses of wine he had, or how many beers.

“Nah,” Van laughs. “We’re about the same, I’d say. I think you’re just having a better time.”

This was probably true. Van’s brain wasn’t being clouded by crazy love hormones like yours was. With that settled, you sink down onto him. You’re so wet that he slips in faster than you’d prepared yourself for, the breath punching out of you. Both of you pant for air as minor adjustments are made before everything is going at a steady pace.

As predicted, Van is clearly going crazy over his lack of control. He can’t stop touching, stroking his fingers over any of your skin he can reach. It’s fine when he rubs his calloused fingertips over your nipples, or eases a thumb against your clit. But then he’s just restless, stroking lightly at your sides, which is tickling you.

“Will you stop?” You huff, pushing his hands away from your ribcage. He starts to smooth his palms over your lower stomach instead, where your skin bulges slightly with a pesky pocket of fat. It makes you self conscious, which is distracting.

You think about the porn he had pulled up on his phone, and the gears in your mind start turning. Van is stroking your upper arms now, an unnecessary sensation as you try to figure out your pace. You’d never choke Van without his consent, obviously, but maybe you could try something a little less intense, see how he reacts to that. If he’s not a fan, he only needs to say so and you two can get back to your regularly scheduled programming. 

You have to lift your hands from where you’re using them for balance against his chest so that you can loop your fingers around his wrists before bringing them down to the mattress. You press them down on either side of his head, and keeping your weight forward to balance yourself means that you can successfully apply enough pressure to hold him down while also continuing to ride him. 

Van looks stunned.

“I said stop touching me,” You explain. “It’s ruining my focus.”

Van stays silent, but under your palms you can feel his arms tense, testing how hard you were pinning him. You swear you’re not imagining how you feel his dick twitch inside of you as he relaxes, surrendering to your hold.

“You done? Want me to let go?” You ask him, eyebrows raised. It seemed like a clever enough way to make sure he was alright without breaking the mood, and you’re happy it works. Van shakes his head, and you see his Adam’s apple bob as he gulps.

You feel a satisfied flush burn on your chest, pleased that you knew him well enough to get this right. 

Only as you keep Van helpless beneath you do you realize how much he’s actually necessary during sex. You’re quickly exhausted being responsible for all of the thrusting, and without any hands available you’re not getting any of the stimulation you’ll need to come. You’re dying to kiss Van, to run your fingers through his hair or over the soft hairs on his stomach, but none of that’s possible as you keep pressing him down.

But even with all of the drawbacks, it’s one-hundred-and-ten percent worth it for the view. Van is a complete mess, sweating and squirming and whimpering. He’s not exactly one to keep quiet during sex, but you’ve never heard him like this, practically whining with each breath. He’s gulping down air like he can’t get enough oxygen, squeezing his eyes shut like looking up at you is too much for him.

He doesn’t squirm too much at first, but things get more difficult as you feel him ready to finish. Your thighs are on fire, but you keep your rhythm as steady as possible. You don’t have the core strength to lower down with control anymore, instead simply slamming down against him before you struggle to lift yourself up. The stiffer he becomes beneath you, his muscles starting to clench in preparation, the more you feel his wrists press against your palms, fighting against your restraint. You’ve got to shift more weight forward, your shoulders burning with the resistance against Van’s struggling. There’s a few moments where you realize you might have to give up, that you’re not physically fit enough to both fuck and pin down a full grown man. And then Van really pushes up against your hands for a moment before he cries out, melting beneath you as you feel the condom start to fill inside of you. You hold his wrists until you feel him shudder through his aftershock, finally opening his eyes.

Your muscles cry out as you finally shift your weight back, releasing Van’s arms. Everything aches. Van reaches down, getting his hand around the base of the condom, and you can feel his fingers trembling. Your thighs feel like jelly as you lift off of him, and the noise of him slipping out of you is obscene. 

You take care of the condom this time, worried that it’ll slip through his unsteady hands. Neither of you say anything as you gently free his dick from the latex, struggling to tie it off in the dark before leaning over to toss it into the small trashcan by the bed. 

You haven’t come, but something about Van’s orgasm felt final. You don’t expect him to muster up the energy to finish you off, and truthfully you don’t really feel like you need it tonight. 

Van coughs to clear his throat before he puts his hands on your hips, tugging you forward.

“C’mere.” His voice is rough. 

“What are you doing?” You ask, frustrated. You’re too tired, and he’s not making any sense. 

“Sit on my fucking face,” Van bites back at your frustration, and you freeze in shock at his request.

He tugs your hips forward again, and this time you start to walk your knees up the sides of his body until you’re seated on his chest.

“Have you ever done this before?” Van pants, licking his lips. 

You shake your head, reaching out for balance. You’ve got an iron bedframe, so it’s easy to wrap your palms around the top bar of the headboard. 

“That makes two of us,” Van tells you, his palms cradling your ass as he adjusts himself slightly. “So let’s see how this goes.”

You’re careful when you lower down on his mouth, scared to death of smothering him. He’s got to crane his neck up slightly so that he can lick at you, and you shiver, clenching your bedframe tightly. 

After a few licks, Van jerks you down harder onto him, his arms wrapped around your thighs. You startle, attempting to hoist yourself up again.

“Stop going so easy on me!” Van laughs, pulling you down again. He’s pulled you off balance, and your hand flies to his hair to steady yourself.

“I’m trying not to fucking kill you!” You tell him, easing yourself back up. 

“Will you quit?” You can hear the amusement in Van’s voice. “Let me do this properly.”

If he wants to be stubborn, fine. You let him pull your weight back down, pressing his tongue against your clit. Every lick makes an audible noise, and you’d be cringing self consciously if it didn’t feel so fucking good. He’s got a 5 o’clock shadow, and although his is never visible with his facial hair being so light you could definitely feel it. 

He’s angling his mouth to get deep, licking you clean when you seize up around him, frozen in place as the waves of your orgasm rock through you. Van is an expert at making it last, of keeping his licks quick and light to draw your climax out as long as possible, and as you tumble off of him you’re already dying to know when you can try this again.

Van immediately hops up from the bed, rushing from the room. He must have to pee. You catch your breath while you wait for the bathroom to be open, your mind trying to get some sort of grip of what’s just happened. 

When Van comes back in, he hunts around in the dark for his boxers. You flick the lamp on, and he finds them instantly, shimmying them on. 

It’s your turn to pee and then clean yourself up, tossing wad after wad of toilet paper out covered in your come. When you get back into the bedroom you don’t feel like trying to track down your underwear in the mess on the floor, and climb right into bed instead. 

Van has a cigarette lit, and he passes one to you right away. As terrible as you know smoking is for you, Van’s onto something with the whole cigarette-after-sex thing. It’s a nice way to relax and come back to reality. 

“Can we do that again?” You blurt out shamelessly. 

Van jerks his head. “Tonight?”

“No!” You laugh. “Not tonight! You think I’m ready that quick? Just… again!”

Van nods as he tips his head back, a puff of smoke floating from his mouth. “Shit. Whatever you wanna do, I’m down.”

You blush at that, peeking over at the time on your phone.

“Oh my god, it’s two,” You groan. You take one last hit of your cigarette before carefully snuffing it out on the empty water glass you’ve left in here. You carefully set the extinguished, half-smoked cigarette aside so that you could finish it tomorrow. You’ll have to try to remember to get yourself a pack after you drop Van off at LAX. 

Van yawns, but doesn’t seem disturbed that you two will only get two and a half hours of sleep.

You almost doze off while you wait for Van to finish his cigarette, but you’re jolted awake as he leans over to shut the lamp off before burrowing down next to you.

You wait for him to flip away from you and head off to sleep, but instead you feel the warm press of his body against yours, nudging you until he can rest his head on your chest. You force yourself to stay awake, to savor this moment, and you bend your arm so that you’re cradling his head and able to lazily play with his hair.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?” You ask him, your voice syrupy and slow with exhaustion.

He jostles your body when he shakes his head. “You got it right,” He tells you.

“Okay,” You exhale a big sigh of relief, and feel Van chuckle against your chest. “But I have a confession to make.”

You can feel Van grinning. “And what’s that?” 

You yawn. “I saw the porn on your phone.”

Van stills. “You didn’t.”

“I did,” You nod. Your mind is so hazy with sleep that you don’t consider that Van might not take your news very well. “I didn’t mean to. I was only trying to open up Uber.”

“You liar,” Van lifts his head, but he’s smiling. “You were being nosey!”

“No!” You argue, but Van’s smile is contagious, so you look like you’re lying. “Okay. Alright. I was curious. I guess I didn’t realize you were so serious about the whole… I dunno. Rough thing. Whatever you like to call it.”

Van shakes his head in disbelief, wiping his hands over his face. “Christ. You’re unbelievable. A lad’s porn is sacred!”

“I’m sorry.” You put on your best pout. “Am I still your best friend?”

Van sighs. “Of course you’re still my best mate. And if looking at my porn is what gave you the bollocks to do that, you can look at my porn history anyday.”

“Bollocks?”

“Balls,” Van translates, flopping back down against your chest. “G’night.”

You pat his hair. “Night. I’m gonna miss you.”

“I miss you already,” Van mumbles against your skin.

When you wake up at 4:30 A.M., barely conscious enough to be driving Van over to his place so you can help him pack, you shoot a text to your boss that you’ve come down with a nasty case of food poisoning so you’ll be taking a sick day. And you do it without one single lick of regret, because those late night moments with Van were worth every. Single. Second. 

\\

[hq-vbc]

it’s you part 14.5

part 14.4 < part 15

it’s you masterlist

word count: 2690 (usually I don’t do this but this time, the writing part is longer than the others)

a/n: okay, final part of part 14! sorry that it took so long to finish it, I hope you enjoy reading it! I wanted to add more but it was getting too long and I think I’ve added everything that is important anyway :))

“everything’s alright now?”, oikawa asks with a smile.

you nod, letting out a deep breath.

“sorry, I was just so overwhelmed right now and happy and sad at the same time and then everything that I was holding in came out and-“, your boyfriend interrupts you. “there’s absolutely no need for you to apologize in any way, it’s okay. better cry than breaking down”, he assures you lovely, brushing your cheek.

for a moment, you appreciate the time you have with oikawa. being in his arms, having him around and knowing he loves you.

“it’s getting late”, you let him know, “do you want to continue listening? you have classes tomorrow, I can tell you the rest an other time.”

“absolutely not! you’re struggling and there’s no way I’d let you by yourself when you feel so conflicted right now.”

you mumble a quiet “thank you” and try your best to hold in your tears.

“okay so... I’ve told you about how akaashi and I became best friends. obviously, we were quick to decide on the same high school. fukurodani high it was. unfortunately, we were not in the same class, but that wasn’t an obstacle in our friendship. akaashi decided to play in the volleyball club. however, I wanted to look for another club. sure, we‘re best friends and all but I thought some space in between would had been nice, you know? I went to the cooking club instead, sounds pretty boring but at that time it was the best decision I could make, living alone and all. well, akaashi joining the volleyball was probably the best decision he could have made in high school because that’s how we met bokuto. you should have listened to him talking about that super cool player in the club! seriously, I’ve never heard akaashi talking that much”, you chuckle remembering how much akaashi actually looks up to bokuto.

“I can see why. akaashi seems more introverted and I’m sure that bokuto managed to inspire him in a way no one else could have. after all, bokuto is easy-going. he’s the kind of person to befriend others easily and in my opinion, he’s stupidly honest, too, but you can’t be really mad at him just because”, oikawa adds cheerfully.

you totally agree: “I know right! one time there was this boy at my school who had to hand me notes because I was sick and bokuto witnessed everything, thinking my classmate was confessing to me! he then screamed across the whole school that I don’t even have time to date and the boy could never give me what I ‘deserve’. it was so embarrassing, I felt the whole school looking at me and I was never able to talk to that boy ever again”, you sigh.

“I can totally imagine that!”, oikawa laughs: “but this just shows how precious you are to him.”

“you are right. I’m glad that the three of us became friends. you know, since akaashi was a setter, bokuto always wanted to stay longer with him to practice as much as possible. usually, akaashi and I always walked home together so I ended up staying late as well. bokuto often tagged along and that’s how we befriended each other. at some point, it was just natural for us to be together. just like any other friendship, our bond grew over time. it especially strengthened because of two accidents. one of them is the accident with aya. as you’ve said before, bokuto befriends others easily and up to this day I wonder if I should be happy about it or curse it. aya was, or more likely is, obsessed with akaashi. we guess that she must have noticed him in a volleyball match but we aren’t sure. aya transferred to our school, really sudden at that. anyway, it seemed like she had a hard time approaching others but it was just a facade. bokuto befriended her because she was often alone. we also didn’t mind her being around us. bokuto was also pretty fond of her, encouraging her to tag along with us, be it at lunch, breaks, club activities or going home. aya enjoyed it, even wanting to join the volleyball club as the manager but at that time, the team already had enough.”

“weren’t you jealous of her? I mean you emphasized a lot now how naturally the three of you became friends but now it sounds like aya was a problem rather than an enrichment to your friendship”, oikawa interrupts.

you smile at how attentive your boyfriend listens to you: “I noticed how she always dragged me away whenever I was in the middle of bokuto and akaashi. she also visited akaashi’s class pretty often, even when our break was only 5 minutes long. furthermore, she’s the same age as bokuto that’s why she saw him more often, being in the same school year as him. I noticed how she did a whole lot more to befriend the two than I did. she put a lot of effort in them but never tried to do the same with me. occasionally, I took the initiative, asking her to have a girl’s day or something because I was kind of excited that a girl joined our small circle but I was always rejected. it made me anxious and I seriously struggled. I doubted myself, thinking what I was doing was not sincerely enough. I just had to put more effort in everything, you know? anyways, aya often went home with us but by coincidence I was informed that she actually lives somewhere else and that she was always walking in the opposite direction with us. that made me wary, especially because she always followed akaashi. bokuto and I always had a bit more to walk together so on one day, I decided to talk about my problems. about how I’m afraid of losing them to aya or how I may be replaced. bokuto assured me that there’s no way the two of them would ever forget or neglect me, that I’m just a little worry wart. I believed in his words. I believed in them so much that I didn’t even realize how the next accident happened.”

oikawa scoffs.

you only look at him confused.

“I feel like whatever happened must be because of aya and it already makes my blood boil”, your beloved one tells you.

nodding at his assumption, you continue the story: “as I’ve said before, she was alone but it was just a facade because in no way bokuto would have let someone be alone when that person is in reach. she actually made lots of connections at school. she was even quite popular but neither akaashi nor bokuto nor me noticed it. the three of us were living in our little world, not even paying attention to the rest”, you let out a sigh, starting to shiver at the thought of what happened next.

oikawa takes your hand into his, brushing his fingers softly against your skin.

“my nightmare became reality. for some reason, I couldn’t see bokuto and akaashi that often anymore. I didn’t notice it right away but suddenly, they were always surrounded by others and whenever I got the chance to be with them at school, I noticed glances all around me. I ignored it. I tried my best but it only got worse. I heard people whispering not so nice things about me. every time something like that happened the names of my two best friends were mentioned. I started to link their names with the actions that made me feel uneasy. suddenly, the whole school was judging me for only being with them, that’s how I noticed how popular bokuto and akaashi actually were. I mean, akaashi got the looks and bokuto the personality. I knew it but I wasn’t aware of that, if it makes sense. I had to realize it in a rather negative way anyway. the whole school got manipulated by aya. my classmates started to gossip about me even more, like how arrogant it was from me to keep these two by myself, how I must think that I’m better than the rest. aya spread lies, saying that I alway tried my best to get rid of her and treated her like dirt. rumors began to spread about me and the line between truth and lies got blurry. I didn’t even know what was right anymore even though the talking was about me. rumors do that to you, they make you question yourself and suddenly, you don’t even know who you are anymore. in an instant, no one talked to me anymore. aya had the whole school in her hand and she used it against me. school became a place that took my whole energy. it was exhausting to get up to go the same place that drained you every day. I couldn’t even seek help because of the relationship to my parents. my teacher even told me that I was probably just interpreting too much in the words of the others. I distanced myself from akaashi and bokuto. obviously, they tried to approach me several times but whenever I saw them, I felt my heart racing. my hands were shaking and I could only think of how to escape from them. sadly, this lasted longer than I remember.”

oikawa takes you into his arm. “I’m so sorry that you had to experience that.”

you feel his soft hair against your ear.

“it’s not your fault.”

“even if it’s not, it happened and it breaks my heart to know you were afraid of being with the people you appreciate so deeply.”

oikawa kisses your forehead: “I will make sure that you never feel that way again. I mean, I got the looks and personality and I’m dating you, so don’t worry about me. I will always be by your side because that’s how awesome I am.”

you could only smack your boyfriend: “decide whether you want to cheer me up or push your own ego.”

the two of you start to laugh, filling the dark, depressing room with happiness and comfort.

“so? does your every lasting drama end?” oikawa asks, not letting go of your hand.

“it does, but it wasn’t easy. somewhere in between, aya actually confessed to akaashi and that’s how things got even more out of hand. aya already manipulated the school and my feelings but that wasn’t enough for her. especially since akaashi rejected her. she stopped bullying me passively, she put more effort into letting me know how much she despised me. once, she humiliated me first in the morning. it was a winter day in January and she purred ice cold water all over me. my whole uniform got wet and I didn’t have any spare clothes so I had to sit in class with my wet uniform. my underwear was looking through and I was shivering from the cold the whole school day. no one even tried to offer me a hand, they acted like there was not a problem. akaashi and bokuto noticed me but I was too afraid at that time to talk to them properly so I just ran away. aya really pushed me to the edge. I never talked back or defended myself, that’s how little my confidence was but I think this just comes naturally? I mean, you just get more aware of yourself and your flaws, especially when everyone else is pointing them out. well, one time, for one time I talked back to her and it made her furious, she was about to slap me when bokuto luckily got in between. I’ve never seen him so disappointed. I couldn’t run away from him, so he took my hand to drag me out of that situation. he fetched akaashi and from that point on, things turned for the better. the three of us talked about the whole situation. I talked about my feelings more honestly and how aya must have manipulated the school and me. I told them how afraid I was to be with them and how exhausted I was of everything. akaashi confessed that he was afraid of aya, too, since she’s been following him ever since. he told us how aya followed him to his house, how she even talked to his parents and how she told them, she’s his girlfriend. it even went as far as her coming to his home occasionally whenever akaashi had practice so she can become more friendly with his parents. neither akaashi nor me felt safe anymore because of aya. bokuto obviously didn’t notice much since he was preparing for college and being only aware of that so late hurt him deeply. bokuto never said it out loud but he must have felt guilty since he did the first step by welcoming aya. in addition, he was already in his third year while akaashi and me had one more year to go. it broke his heart to leave school soon when right then we needed him the most. that’s how we promised to go to the same college and well, here we are. we wanted to make up the time we missed because of what happened. since aya had to leave, too, akaashi and I felt more comfortable at school. we never left the other because of how worried we were. we ignored the others and built our own world again, step by step. we did our best to go to the same college as bokuto. akaashi and I were overjoyed when we were accepted and couldn’t wait until college started. there was nothing that motivated us as much as being together again. unfortunately, things got a bit out of hand and now, there’s this mess in our friendship.” and with this said, you end the story. “I don’t really know what to do anymore because if we lose bokuto for real I... I just-”, you are at lost with words and can feel tears leaving the corner of your eyes. you can’t help it but after remembering so much about your friendship there’s no way you could not be this emotional.

oikawa lets out a deep sigh.

you don’t respond.

the air in the room is heavy and you wonder if your boyfriend had to endure this heaviness the whole time without you noticing it?

“I can’t believe that because of one person the three of you had to endure so much. it must have been painful”, oikawa comforts you, putting your head on his shoulder.

you let your tears roll down even more.

the room is filled with your sobs and your boyfriend strokes your head slowly.

“it’s hard, I can understand. you must be hurt and scared and I can totally understand that, too. I don’t have the right answer to this whole situation but I appreciate you telling me this, trusting me to this extent so thank you”, oikawa’s voice is low and calm, he takes his time to speak. he sincerely thinks about what to tell you. he wants you to feel understood and doesn’t want to rush the whole thing. it breaks his heart to have you crying in his arms right now because you feel so hopeless. it shatters his heart since he can’t come up with a solution.

“you probably know what people say, right? ‘communication is the key’. what you three should do is to talk personally, not over text messages. if you want and if the others allow it, I can stay by your side. maybe there’s even more behind bokuto’s actions than you think. there isn’t a right choice to pick for this situation and no one of you guys are at fault. you three were just unlucky with how things developed but you can work it out, just like in high school. I will also make sure to be by your side. I won’t leave you alone and I will always be there.”

you nod, appreciating oikawa’s presence.

“I’m really happy that you told me so much about yourself. I feel like I’m more connected to you”, oikawa whispers in the dark room.

the two of you lay down, oikawa hugging you. doing that, you can listen to his heart beat and start to calm down. from time to time your boyfriend gives you a kiss and thanks you for opening up and telling you over and over again that you’re not alone. the whole scenario repeats until the two of you fall asleep in each other’s arms.

[jeremiah-valeska]

Birthday Surprise || Discord

Summary: Jeremiah kidnaps Dick and forces him to relive his childhood trauma. Trigger warnings: Death, Trauma, Abuse, Dark Themes, Violence Written With: @flyingboywonder

Jeremiah

It was perfect. Just how he pictured it to look. How he remembered it to look. "When you're awake, you're going to love this!" Glancing up to the stands where he had Dick placed in the audience. (The Audience consisting solely of the members of his Church. All in everyday attire.) He said busting into uncontrollable giggles. He placed his hand on his chest. His gloved hand over his red ringleader's coat. An exact replica of the one Haly used to sport years ago. "Dick! Common, Dick, wake up!" He called from where he stood. "We're getting off schedule." He mumbled before walking into the audience and scooting past a few of his people so that he could sit in the empty spot next to his best friend. Reaching over, he jostled him a bit. Trying to wake him. Leaning close and whispering in his ear. "It's the most important day of your life and the drugs should be wearing off... you should probably wake up. And... pay attention to me..." His last few words were very breathy and he reached a hand up to brush the hair from Dick's face.

Dick

He could feel warm breath against his ear, could make out the words Jeremiah was saying. He vaguely remembered them hanging out together, having a couple of drinks, watching TV. And then... It was a blur. His eyes slowly opened, trying to adjust and focus on what was around him. "J-Jeremiah?" His voice was croaky, and his head felt a little dizzy. "What's going on?" he asked, head turning to look at the other man. There was a glint of excitement in his eyes, then Dick looked towards the stage. Haley's? That wasn't possible. The circus had been gone for years. Was this a dream? He'd dreamt of his childhood hundreds of times -- dreamt of the night he'd lost his parents. Watching them fall over and over again, unable to catch them, or tell them what was going to happen. "Am I dreaming?"

Jeremiah

"Ah! There you are." He said with a smile, clearly proud of himself. "For a moment I was scared I may have used a little too much. Do you feel alright?" He asked, placing a hand on his forehead to check his temperature before pulling back and swiping the air.  "You're fine." A large and manic grin stretching across his white face. Twitching a bit like it might have been too big of a smile for himself to even handle. He checked the watch on his hand quickly before letting out a gentle huff. "We have time... I suppose. You see, Dickie. Ever since that day we got to talkin' about your parents I realized something. See I wasn't there. That's why you don't feel about me the way I feel about you. I couldn't be there for you... I couldn't hold your hand or tell you that it'll all be alright on the most important day of your life." He reached forwards and grabbed Dick's hand between his own. Silvery eyes widening. "But I can be now. I just... I want to be connected to you."

Dick

Used a little too much? Jeremiah had drugged him. Something that was very much not okay with Dick. "What do you mean, do I feel alright? I just found out someone I considered a friend slipped me something. What do you think?" Listening to the other speak, it was obvious that there was something very wrong with him. He wasn't the same person that he'd once known at the circus. "Most important day of my life? It was the worst day of my life. Why would you want to connect to me through that?" He tried to pull his hand away from Jeremiah, but he was still a bit weak from whatever he'd drugged him with. "There's other ways to connect to me than kidnapping me and bringing me to a place that haunts me."

Jeremiah

He pouted when Dick started to talk back to him. "Best Friend. Don't be inconsiderate, Dick. How else was it meant to be a surprise if I didn't knock you out... besides... it shouldn't give you any long lasting effects. That I know of." He said, unable to prevent a sick chuckle from escaping.  "Why?" He asked taking a hand back and placing it on his chin in thought. "Well, Dick. You see... I thought of it... Over and over and I realized that Anthony Zucco held a more important place in your heart than me." He said, pressing his hand against Dick's chest and looking into his eyes as though he was pleading with him. Trying to get him to understand. "As well as your super powered friends. Zatanna... Wally... They're all so much more important to you. I want to be important to you! Me!" He raised his voice, gripping the fabric of Dick's shirt. His lip quivering. "If you can't love me, then we can be bonded in other ways. I'll be important to you once the night is over... You'll see... I won't be so insignificant to you anymore."

Dick

Best friend? Was that what this was all about? Now Dick was starting to understand how Bruce felt when it came to Joker. "You could've just blindfolded me and said you had a surprise. There are other ways to do things. Drugging people without their consent should never be an option, Jeremiah." The mention of Zucco made his blood boil in his veins. How dare Jeremiah bring him up. "Don't say his name," he hissed, trying to get up from his seat. He knew that he was feeling a little groggy, but he couldn't move. Looking down, he noticed that he'd been bound to the chair. "You could've been important to me! I cared about you!" he yelled, fidgeting in his seat, trying to get free. "You want me to love you? You drugged me and tied me to a chair, built a whole replica of Haley's! You want me to relive the worst night of my life!" Panic was rising in his chest, his heart pounding and his breaths becoming ragged. "Let me go, Jeremiah! I want to go home!"

Jeremiah

"But then there's the complications that come with the blindfold. What if you peaked, then the surprise would have been-" He whistled and gestured like he was throwing something into a hoop. "Out the window." He said, pulling his hands back into another shrug. Dick's reaction to Zucco's name made Jeremiah shift back from him like he was scared he might bite him before his lips twisted again into a smile. He shook his head like he was shaking them of silly thoughts. "See, that's how you should react if someone's important to you!" He said. As if this proved any point. In his delusional mind, everything that he was doing and saying made perfect sense. "Don't pretend I ever could have been more then the childhood friend you've pitied all our lives." He said giving him a frown, "There would have always been someone above me if I didn't do something grand." He told him, raising his voice as though he was speaking to an audience. All at once, his cult turned to look at them as if they recognized his commanding tone. "Anyway, show must go on and all that." He said waving his hand around and getting up. "Sit tight, Dickie! I have to play understudy for the ringleader." He said, scooting his way out of the audience seat and sauntering down the stairs and to the stage.

Dick

"It's not because he's important to me! It's because he killed my parents!" He tried his hardest to understand what was going through Jeremiah's mind right now -- what would lead him to do a thing like this. Dick thought that he knew his old friend, but clearly he'd been hiding a dark secret from him. "I don't pity, Jeremiah. Or at least I didn't, until now. I thought you were a friend. The one last connection I had to the good part of my past, but you've ruined it. It's tainted now." He was right. There would always be someone above him. His daughter for one, and his girlfriend too. Wanting to be the centre of Dick's attention was a crazy desire. "The show doesn't have to go on! You could just let me go home to my kid, to my... To my Zee." He was practically pleading now, his eyes filling up with tears. Tears of both of anger and fear. "No!" he yelled, watching the crazed clown walking to the stage. "I don't wanna do this, Jeremiah! Please! If you care about me, you won't make me do this!" Dick fought against the restraints, but it was no use. Maybe if he closed his eyes... Yeah, that's what he'd do. He squeezed them shut tight, clenching and unclenching his fists as he tried to calm himself. "Do it for Mar'i. Get through this for Mar'i," he whispered to himself. "Do it for Zee. For the Titans... For your family." You can do this, Dick. Bruce's voice rang clear in his head, and he focused on it. "I can do this," he breathed. "I have to."

Jeremiah

His eyes darkened for a moment, "Since he killed your parents, he's important to you. Can't you see it's one in the same? Jerome killed my parents and voila! He'll always have a place in my heart." Though he wasn't sure if it was fair to use his twin as an example. It didn't matter. Dick and himself were the same. Both orphans who came from the same place and rose to where they were today. Successful. The only difference being: Jeremiah didn't have what Dick had. Important people in his life. All he had was Dick and he had to share him. How was that fair? "Your Zee?" He half turned on his walk down and his teeth grit together hard, the next words were spoken through them. "This is why I have to do this. You've always put her in front of our relationship." He turned back and stepped onto the stage, turning in a dramatic fashion on the stage and tipping his hat. Dick should be happy that this was all he was doing. Out of respect for him... he wasn't eliminating the competition. And, oh. How he thought of it before. How he'd do it... Instead of killing them all while the spell took place he was putting on a show for his ungrateful best friend. "Ladies and Gentleman! Boys and girls! Children of all ages! Welcome to the circus! Hear the music! Laugh at the clowns! And be thrilled by the daring feats of our Acrobats!" The audience irrupted into cheers and he looked up with a smile on his face. Finally catching Dick. Who's eyes were closed. "DON'T CLOSE YOUR EYES! You'll miss out on the big surprise!" He made a gesture and one of his cult members moved next to Dick and pried his eyes open for him. "Let's give a warm welcome to THE FLYING GRAYSONS!"

Dick

He felt sick to his stomach. The way Jeremiah was talking was enough to make him want to throw up his breakfast. "It's not the same. Your brother is a psychopath, and I'm starting to think that you are, too. Maybe it's a twin thing," Dick hissed. He wasn't helping his case by upsetting his old friend, but he didn't care. They were truths that he needed to hear. If he realised just how alike he and Jerome were, perhaps it'd be enough to make him stop this insanity. "She's my girlfriend. I don't know what you expect from me. Normal friendships aren't like this, Valeska... Are you in love with me? Is that what this is about? We can talk through it if you are, you don't have to go this far." His words were falling on deaf ears. It was clear that Jeremiah had a plan and he was going to see it through, no matter how much Dick tried to put a stop to it. Hearing the other man starting to shout like he was the star of the show, he shook his head, desperately trying to ignore it. Suddenly, though, his eyes were being pried open, forcing him to look at the stage. "No, no, no. Please, let me go," he begged. He'd never sounded more broken. A man and a woman walked onto the stage, and his heart sank. "Momma?" She looked exactly like her, and the guy looked exactly like his father. It wasn't them. It couldn't be. "STOP!" He threw himself as far forward as he could, but the hands on his face pulled him back. Dick was starting to lose control, tears streaming down his face, his body writhing as much as the restraints would allow. "I'm going to kill you, Jeremiah!" he screamed. "You're gonna die, just like Zucco!"

Jeremiah

He tried to continue the show and ignore the screaming of his best friend as he sat in the audience but when Dick asked if he was in love with him, he felt himself freeze and tense up. Trying to swallow the lump in his throat that was choking him. "You kn- you know..." He stammered, losing his cool for a moment. He wasn't in love with Dick. No. They were just best friends. At least he thought they were, right now Dick was acting like they weren't and he had to push through it, knowing that the connection they would have after this would be stronger then what they currently had. Dick would think of him all the time because he'd think of this night. He'd always be a thought, lingering in his mind. He pushed though the brief moment and wiped a bead of sweat from his face. "And introducing! The youngest Acrobat we have! Dick Grrrrayson!" He announced getting back into character. Gesturing to the young boy who just walked on stage, he couldn't have been more then 9 years old. Meanwhile, the real Dick Grayson was screaming from the audience that he was going to kill him. "I like the passion, bestie! But how about we cheer for this little guy here instead of making promises you can't keep! Poor thing's gonna need it!" He said as the family behind him started getting to their places. He had them put under a spell from Zatanna's book. Forced to follow his every command.

Dick

Jeremiah's answer didn't satisfy him. But he knew better than to push it. Everyone around him had been telling him that Jeremiah had a crush on him for months, but he refused to listen, and now he was the subject of all his attention. Hearing himself being introduced, he focused on the little boy on stage. Curly black hair, bright blue eyes, and a wide smile. Was this innocent little kid going to die because of him? "Let the kid go! He hasn't done anything wrong. Let them all go!" His eyes were stinging, and he was so, so angry. But beyond the anger, there was terror and sheer panic. His chest was heaving, and he gritted his teeth. He wished that he could get free, that he could get onto the stage and warn these people. Dick wanted to save them because he couldn't save his parents. He didn't get to warn them on time about Zucco's plan, and because of him, they were dead. And now these people were going to die, too. "You need to get out of here! He's sending you to your deaths!" They didn't move, and Dick let out a scream of frustration. Knowing how this was going to go made his whole body shake, his hands unable to fiddle with the binds keeping him down. The more he tried to squeeze his eyes shut, the rougher the henchmen were with him. There was no way out of this. Nobody to help him. Hadn't anyone noticed he was gone yet? He sank back in his seat, exhausted from fighting, and from the drugs. "Just... Don't make me watch this. I... I can't."

Jeremiah

Jeremiah turned to watch the family go to their spots before Dick caught his attention again. He was still fighting this? Still screaming at him like he hadn't already made up his mind. He had been working on this for months. Transforming Amusement Mile into a replica of Haly's. Finding performers that met the builds and appearances of his parents. Casting the perfect kid to play Dick... and even rebuilding his Church so they would have an audience. He did all this work and Dick thought he was not going to go through with it? His eyes narrowed. No, that would be a waste of money and a waste of months of work. "They can't hear you, Dick!" He called up to him. "They're under a spell-" He sighed dramatically and shook his head before coming back into the audience. The Ringleader didn't need to be there for the rest of this anyway. He gestured for his cultie to get out of his spot before reclaiming it. Taking a seat besides Dick. Watching as he started to give up. "Shush," He said softly. "It'll be alright. You survived this the first place and you can do it again. You're amazing." He offered his comfort, placing a hand on Dick's leg. "We'll finish this together... and then once it's all done... every time you think of them... you'll think of me."

Dick

Under a spell? Where had he even found magic? Dick knew that Zatanna would never help him with something like this. Any sane person wouldn't. "Even if they can't hear me, I still had to try," he muttered to himself. His shoulders tensed when he saw Jeremiah leaving the stage, coming back towards their seats. "I only survived because of Jim and Bruce. Without them, I wouldn't be here." His stomach was churning. Bile was burning the back of his throat. "Connecting you to this isn't a good thing." His voice was void from emotion now, and he didn't even bother to move his leg when he felt a hand rest on his upper thigh. He didn't want to be touched, but Jeremiah wasn't listening to anything he was saying, so what was the point in fighting it? "My parents dying broke my heart. I tried to bury the pain for years. You're bringing it back to the surface. I won't be me after this." It was his last hope at getting Jeremiah to change his mind. "You love me as I am. Want to be the best friend of this version of me. You're about to ruin who I am, all because you want to be important to me. But you won't be, because you'll have killed this Dick Grayson."

Jeremiah

"Jim and Bruce were very kind to you. Jim said something to you right after. What was it...? There will be light?" He replied, looking up at the performance they were starting it now while the little boy stood and watched. Not in on the action. He wasn't trained like the performers and Jeremiah didn't want that ruining the bit so Little Dick was instructed to just watch and to scream if his "parents" were to fall. "I'm prepared to fill both roles for you, so don't worry about that. I'll make sure it's exactly as it should be. I'll be there for you..." He said. "That's all I want. To be there. I'm so uninvolved. So forgotten about that I have to insert myself more into the story... you understand." He said, like it made sense. He leaned back in the chair, listening to Dick talk. He frowned. Feeling a small sense like he might be doing the wrong thing here, he shook his head. Bringing his hands up to hair. "No, no, it's fine. It's fine." He said, "It's all going to go according to plan." He said to himself, a manic edge to his tone. He shook himself out, trying to get rid of the doubt. "I'll love you in anyway that you are." He corrected him after a long moment. "It's you who doesn't care about me. You won't die. They will," He gestured up to the performers. "But you won't."

Dick

How did Jeremiah know what Jim had said to him. Did he know every little detail of his life somehow? "How do you know that?" Dick asked, needing to know who was giving out such private information. "You can't just replace Bruce and Jim. You can't be a father figure to me." He was so confused, so utterly overwhelmed by everything that was going on around him. Jeremiah confirmed that the people on stage were going to die, and Dick thrashed around to get out of his binds once more. Luckily, all his fidgeting had paid off and they came loose. "Not if I can help it," he growled, pulling the ropes off. The first thing he did was make a fist, then punched his old friend in the jaw. "You're sick, Jeremiah. As soon as I'm done saving those people, I'm putting you somewhere secure. You're never going to hurt anyone again," he told him, jumping over the seats and running towards the stage. "Stop!" he yelled at the people. "I'm coming to help! Don't climb up there! Jeremiah, stop the spell!"

Jeremiah

He smiled pridefully when Dick asked how he knew that, "I did my research." He quipped. Deciding to keep his tactics to himself, after all, Dick didn't need to know everything. All he needed to know was how far he'd go for him. "I was my own father figure, why can't I be yours too? I could offer you advice or play catch with you in the yard." He said with a chuckle. "Listen, Dick. I'm only doing this because I love you. You're all I have... and I don't like sharing." He admitted looking towards the stage and eyeing the performers. They were good but they weren't the Graysons. They didn't have the grace that Dick's parents had. He remembered watching them with Dick, sorta like what they were doing now. Only, Dick loved him then. They were all they had and he hadn't been replaced yet. His heart yearned for that feeling again. "Mhm?" He said, a bit confused. When he turned his head to look at Dick, he was greeted with a fist to the jaw. His head shot back with the force of it and when he looked up, Dick was leaping over the seat. Swiftly, he took out his gun and aimed it at his friend. Finger lingering over the trigger, trembling... but he couldn't do it. Instead he tossed it aside and ran after Dick. Was he ever fast... "Dick, wait! I can't stop it! What do I look like, your girlfriend??" He shouted back at him, Dick was already climbing up the ladder to get to the trapeze artists. He followed suit, quickly enough that he was able to grab his ankle. "Come down, you're going to get yourself killed. There's no saving them!"

Dick

Had Jeremiah gotten into his files? He'd made sure to have them triple secured so that villains couldn't get any private details. Maybe he'd forced someone to talk. It wouldn't be hard for a guy like him. He was smart and had a lot of connections. Maybe it was Jerome. He was close to Zatanna, and he knew that she trusted him. Paranoia was starting to cloud his judgement. Dick needed to shake it off and think clearly, but that was hard to do when you were being forced to relive the worst moment of your life with someone you believed was a trusted friend. "Everybody has to share the people they love. If you don't, that makes you a toxic and controlling person. I won't be controlled. Not by you, not by anyone." As soon as Jeremiah's head shot backwards, Dick felt a little bit of regret. Resorting to violence with sick people wasn't something he was fond of. But there wasn't any other choice right now. It was punch him or sit idly by while people got hurt. "What do you mean you can't stop it?! You started it! You have to know how to undo it!" As he climbed the ladder to reach his fake parents, he felt Jeremiah's hand wrap around his ankle. "Let go!" he yelled, looking down at him. "I'd rather die a hero than sit and do nothing. I don't give up. You should know that about me." With a frown, he kicked Jeremiah hard in the face, scrambling up the ladder when he felt his grip loosen around his ankle.

Jeremiah

He didn't see it that way. That it would be controlling. He thought, if anything it would be the two of them against the world but perhaps Dick would understand some day. After all of this was over and done with, after he got his audience to leave so the two of them could be alone. Then he could comfort him like he would have wanted to the day this really did happen. Instead of having to stay home ant get beaten for something he really didn't remember if he even did. His past was foggy to him, but it didn't matter where he was. The point was that he wasn't there when Dick needed him and now he was. "My magic guy's a little busy!" He replied. Not elaborating. Dick wouldn't like what he did to the city. To his friends. Dick told him to let go and he clung tighter to him. "Oh I do. I know you! As you should know I wouldn't give up on you! I need you to tell me something; Can't you feel it, yet?!" He screamed up to him. "The connection between us? Can't you? Please, tell me you--" He was cut off when Dick kicked him hard in the face and he couldn't help but let out a yelp in pain. For a moment he was seeing stars and he had to let go of Dick and focus on hanging onto the ladder as it swayed a bit form the force of the hit. Blood ran down his face like a faucet from his nose as he came to. Dripping onto the ladder. He glanced back up and watched as Dick hustled upwards. Quickly pulling himself after him, they were nearing the top when his foot couldn't get a grip. Slipping on the blood from before. "Dick!" He shouted after him. But the rope that held the False Graysons began to tare too...

Dick

He didn't know what the other man meant by 'a little busy', but he had a feeling that it wasn't by any means anything good. Jeremiah asked him if he could feel it, and Dick didn't know how to respond, on account of not knowing what it was. "All I feel is anxiety and anger. I should be with my family and friends, celebrating my birthday, but you're putting me through this!" As he reached the top of the platform, he tried to reach out to grab the hand of the woman. But it was too late, she'd jumped. He looked up at the rope, wondering how long he had. Hearing his name being called, he turned to see Jeremiah holding onto the ladder by one hand. Dick had to make a choice, and his rage was affecting his judgement. He took one last look at his childhood friend before dashing forward, just in time to watch the performers fall to their deaths. "No!" he screamed, grabbing a rope hanging from the ceiling. It wasn't very long, but he didn't need it to be. He swung off the ledge, then let go, gliding through the air with the greatest of ease, putting his tumbling skills to good use before he reached the ground. Dick landed a little off balance, but that wasn't surprising with everything he'd been through that night. He avoided looking toward where Jeremiah would've fallen, focusing on the bodies of the man and woman instead. Clutching his stomach, he doubled over and vomited. It must've been the shock, and the fear. There was so much blood. After using a shaky hand to check their pulses, he let out an anguished cry. "I'm sorry," he choked out, getting up from the ground and ignoring the pain in his ankle. Suddenly, he remembered the little kid, and spotted him on the other side of the stage, staring blankly at him. "Kid... It's gonna be okay, don't look at them," he told him, making his way over. "I'm Dick Grayson, and I'm going to take you somewhere safe." Picking the little boy up, he held him in his arms, trying to shield him and making a break for the exit.

Jeremiah

He could feel his hand slipping as he dangled off the ladder and warm blood from his nose gushed into the opening of his lips. Staring up with blurry eyes at his friend who looked down at him coldly.  Although he didn't have his glasses on and the lights were so... bright. Perhaps he was misreading his best friend's expression. Dick left his line of sight swiftly without extending a hand to help him and all he could think was: Oh. I suppose we're even. He wasn't there in Dick's time of need so Dick, in turn, wasn't there for him. But he really did believe for a moment there... Dick might choose me for once. Disappointment filled his chest and weighed him down. His fingers, that were curled around the step of the ladder wouldn't hold him anymore and in an instant he felt himself dropping like a stone all the way to the ground. Hearing the thud of the two bodies a split second before the thundering crack of his head against the flooring. His eyes still open and staring up towards the stage lights which reflected colourfully in his dull silver irises. Blood that had been in his mouth trickled down the sides of his face and dripped into the pool by his head. Creating a long red grin on his stark white face. He thought he heard Dick say something somewhere not too far from him. Promising that he'd take him somewhere safe before the world itself turned dark.

[fiercyy]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Naruto Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke, Haruno Sakura & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi, Team 7 - Relationship, Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto, Haruno Sakura & Hatake Kakashi & Uchiha Sasuke & Uzumaki Naruto Characters: Haruno Sakura, Uchiha Sasuke, Uzumaki Naruto, Hatake Kakashi, Tsunade (Naruto), Orochimaru (Naruto) Additional Tags: AU, Post-Chuunin Exams, post chuunin exams attack, Minor Character Death, Trauma, Team 7 Family bonding, Genin Era, Everybody moves in with Sasuke, he's got room, semi-au, Plot Twists, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Roommates, Friends to Enemies, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, BAMF Haruno Sakura, Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto) Feels, BAMF Dai-nana-han | Team 7 (Naruto), Team as Family, Slow Burn Series: Part 1 of Post-Chuunin Exam AU Summary:

Sakura always wished she could relate to her teammates better. She wishes she could take it back.

In which Sasuke acquires some unwanted roommates and a team becomes a family.

.

.

"You skipped training," Kakashi's one visible eye is narrowed in a foreboding expression. His large body takes up the whole doorframe when he holds himself up at full height.

Sasuke turns back to his book, earmarked not him but by Sakura, who the book belongs to. It's a historical account of the longest battle of the First Ninja War. For something so violent, it's extremely boring. "What's the point?" He asks petulantly.

"What's the point in training?" Kakashi asks incredulously. Surely Sakura's win hadn't hit him that hard.

"What's the point in the training we're doing? I'm not getting any stronger!"

"I'm teaching you restraint," begins the lecture he's heard what feels like a hundred times, "The Chidori is powerful and dangerous. You could hurt someone without meaning to."

Sasuke scoffs, "Sakura can beat me. I don't need restraint. In a fight, I'm trying to hurt someone."

"If your ego is so fragile then you're not ready for the responsibility of power."

"I am!" he argues. "But if power is such a burden then why can Sakura and Naruto keep getting stronger and now me?"

"They don't want power for power's sake!"

"Neither do I, I want power so I can use it."

Kakashi's eyes narrow, "I'm your mentor, not theirs. If you want my techniques you'll do things my way."

"Then I don't need you!" And desperate to escape the conversation, he jumps out the window.

"If you had control you wouldn't have hurt Sakura!" Kakashi shouts after him.

"I don't care!" he screams back. But that's a lie.

.

.

Sakura, for her part, has never been so thrilled to lose a fight. It doesn't feel egotistical to think that she basically won. She's just a softy who couldn't let him fall. It's a good thing, isn't it? That her instinct was to protect her teammate. (Even if, had he been thinking properly, he could have grabbed onto the wall with chakra.) That was what Kakashi was always ragging on her about, no? Not putting her team first?

She managed to surprise Sasuke and get the upper hand. She never thought she could do that. Never would have thought to… before.

Thinking about her parents brings her down. She can't do it often, it hurts too much. Since her heart to heart with Kakashi, she's being trying to focus on what she does have, not what she lost.

Her life has been in a quagmire since the attack, but at least she isn't alone. For that reason, she pities Sasuke. They both lost so much but afterward he had nobody. And she had so much. She's learning to be grateful for that, honest she is. She just gets so mad sometimes.

It's like when she was little. She was an angry kid. Her parents worked with her and taught her all the calming techniques; breaking deepy, counting, shoving it all into a box… The box worked best. All her longterm furies shut up where no one could see them. She let the bullies hit her as hard as they wanted. She wouldn't strike out. They could tease her all they liked, she wouldn't give them the satisfaction of a reaction.

She can't hold in that inner Sakura anymore. She won't be contained. Instead she's trying to come to terms with it all; work through it as best she can. It's freeing, to be a being who can feel anger again. The fight now, is to not allow it to consume her.

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"Hey," Naruto starts, only for Sasuke to stalk right past him and slam the door to their room. He glances at the clock on the VCR. It's 11:00. The lock clicks. Shit. He's terrible at picking locks. "Aw man, what am I gonna do now?"

Sakura—who sits on the opposite side of the table, books open and post-its at the ready—is unsympathetic. "Sleep on the couch."

.

.

Alone in his room, the nightmares plague him worse than before. The prophecy of being swallowed by the earth came true. He finds new things to fear.

Sasuke wakes in the middle of the night.

The voices no longer reside in sleep. Orochimaru's whispers reverberate all around him; promises of power, of bargains. How will you kill your brother if you keep you as you are? He asks with condescension.

Sasuke shakes his head and for now, the pressure in his skull is dislodged. He rises and leaves the bedroom for the living room.

The apartment is dark. There is just enough moonlight to see by. He treads softly into the living room and stares at Naruto's slack body, thrown over the couch and covered in the red wool blanket. It's large enough that all three of them fit under it but in the heat of sleep he's kicked it off his feet. His soft snores, so familiar, settle Sasuke.

He didn't want Naruto to hear his nightmares. They've woken him before, but he never seems to grasp what the nightmares are about. He knew he'd be talking in his sleep tonight. It's always worse when he goes to bed angry. Orochimaru is preying on those feelings, he won't be taken in.

Except he's told no one. They might see it as a sign of weakness, or Kakashi might try and reseal him. What power reserves would be taken from him then? The temptation of more than a taste of what the curse can give him… He's stagnating here, while others flourish. He needs to be stronger. Now. And Orochimaru wants to give him strength. It's that simple.

He'll kill him before fulfilling his end of the bargain.

That thought, formulating a plan, is what makes it too real.

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.

Sasuke's birthday is last in the calendar year and on the first morning of his 13th year, he wakes up to yelling and the sweet smells of an unhealthy breakfast.

"I made you an omelette actually," Sakura assures, plating her pancakes. It's dry and over seasoned, but he eats every bite slathered in ketchup. There's candles in it and they make him blow them out.

The day is spent in his favourite manner: outside, training. They read together in peace in the grass, for a while after that. (Sasuke and Sakura read. Naruto doodles crude caricatures in the margins of a magazine.) They go to lunch, then the baths. They henge into adult versions of themselves, laughing all the while at their absurd visions of the future. They use the illusions to sneak into a bar that's hosting a pub quiz. A jolly civilian in his 20s hosts. Naruto's only correct contribution is a question about the minutiae of the Teenage Mutant Firefighting Turtles lore.

They win second prize—a pitcher of beer. Their weak, 13-year-old tolerance ensures than they're unable to hold their henges for long after that. Once one breaks, the others do too and laughing all the while, they're kicked out of the bar.

"Technically this is your fault for giving it to us!" Sakura argues, "We didn't order any drinks!" The bouncer is unamused.

They stumble home, leaning on each other.

And when Sasuke stares at the spinning ceiling that night, he doesn't think of his childhood, his anger or the future. For the first time, he relives the same day he'll relive for years-the best birthday he ever had.

.

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"Teach me how to unlock the Magekyou Sharingan," Sasuke demands. He doesn't know what he's asking.

Kakashi tries to tell himself this, but when he reaches inside himself, looking for compassion, he finds only rage. "No."

"It's my clan's legacy, the next logical step. I need it if I ever hope to-!"

"If you're very lucky you will never have the Magekyou," Kakashi warns, "The cost is too great."

"I'll pay it!"

"If you do," he replies, enunciating carefully, "I will strike you down myself."

.

.

They ambush him in the evening on his way home from another seemingly useless session with Kakashi. The Sound Four and all of their formidable strength and second-hand arguments (such as they are) meant to persuade him to defect on his own. Or to take him by force.

His curse seal burns, curling across his body.

The time has come to remember his purpose.

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.

Sasuke strains against his restraints, spitting and snarling at his teacher. Kakashi's impassive eyes rove around, but his fingers are tight on the wire. The bark itches and the blood trickles down his arm where the wire has cut him.

"What's this all about?!" He demands.

"Sorry, but I knew you wouldn't want to sit still for another lecture." The second today. "Let it go, forget about revenge. Trust me, following the path of revenge never ends well. You'll only tear yourself apart. Even if you succeed, what will you have then? Nothing. Emptiness."

"Shut up!" Sasuke's blood boils, "What makes you think you know anything about it? You have no idea! Maybe if I were to kill the most important people in your life, anyone who's ever meant anything then you'd understand," he threatens cruelly, uselessly.

"Interesting theory, but everyone I've ever loved is already dead," he says it so calmly. Sasuke never knew that about him. "Besides you. And Naruto and Sakura."

Sasuke's sharp intake of breath is the only indication that his words have any effect.

"You and I are lucky. We've found new people to love, who love us."

The boy looks so small, his head drops so Kakashi can't see his face anymore. He loosens the restraints.

"That's all I wanted to say. You'll do what you want."

.

.

In the room he shares with his teammate, only feet away from his bed, Sasuke packs a bag in the dark. There's a photograph on the desk that he considers taking with him, but that wouldn't be wise. He lays it face down and leaves the room.

He hesitates at the front door and doubles back.

He doesn't know which cousin Sakura's bedroom belonged to. He never visited them before the Massacre. It's one of the reasons he feels safe here, it's untouched by death. They died at the compound with everybody else.

He opens her door a crack. The hinges are well oiled so they don't creak.

Asleep in bed, Sakura's back is to him, arm tucked under her chin and hair falling over her shoulders. He watches her for longer than he should, heart hammering in his chest. He's really going to do this.

He stays until he can't stand it anymore, it's too much.

Outside, the village is quiet. The streetlamps haven't been fixed in many neighborhoods, so he passes through the light and darkness with equal swiftness. His unhurried gait stops at the gates. They loom in front of him, a portal into his future.

"SASUKE!" Sakura shouts, breaking the stillness of the night.

He turns and can't hide his surprise at seeing her. He's a fool. He must have woken her with his goodbye. "What are you doing here?"

"This is the only way out of the village," she evades.

"Go home Sakura."

Before I say things we'll both regret.

"No," her voice breaks. She darts in front of him to block his path. "Why? I thought I understood you but I don't. I just don't. How can you throw everything away?"

"You could never understand me," he replies coldly. "I'm throwing away everything that doesn't matter. Anything that doesn't help me accomplish my goals."

"I know in the beginning you couldn't stand me. You probably hated me. But I thought-" here Sakura hesitates and the tears drip from her chin. "I thought that things were different now. You told me once that I have no idea what it means to be alone, well now I do. I do and I wish I didn't. It's horrible. But it's a little less horrible with you." She chokes on a sob and slaps a hand over her mouth to muffle it.

"You're just as annoying now as you were then." He steps up to her, so they're standing close. "Move," he commands.

"No."

"Move or I'll move you."

Her stance widens but her knees quake. "Try it then."

"Don't you understand that I'll kill you if I have to?" Move!

She laughs, so sad, "For the sake of your revenge."

"I'm travelling a path that you can't follow," in telling her so, he hopes to be kind.

Sasuke pushes past her. Like a willow branch, she moves aside then springs back to watch him walk away. All the fight has gone out of her. "You don't have to be alone. You don't think we would help you?" She cries, "Naruto and I would do anything for you. Why won't you let us?!"

"I don't need you!" He roars. "We aren't the same."

"I love you, don't you understand? Please don't walk away!"

With his back to her, neither can see the effect their words are having on the other, but they can hope. They can imagine.

"Stay," she whispers brokenly. "Or take me with you."

He turns. "Where I'm going, I have no use for you. Forget you ever knew me."

"No. You know that I can't," she says with force. He advances and her speech quickens. "If you move I'll scream, I swear I will, I-" In a flash, he's behind her. A sharp pain in her neck. Darkness descends.

Whispered words. Thank you.

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12 hours earlier…

Though some ninjas choose to work under the cover of night, many realize that it's far easier to work in plain sight, in the day, hidden by the crowd. Sasuke has only been to Kakashi's apartment once before, but he remembers the way. It's not so odd that a student would visit his master in the day time.

He knocks and Kakashi's surprised to find him at the door.

"Can I come in?" He trusts that his sensei's home is secure.

"Sure, Sasuke," Kakashi replies in his usual breezy tone. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to get me a covert meeting with the Hokage."

In under an hour they're in her office. Shizune, their only witness. Tsunade surveys the boy over her steeples fingers. "What can I do for you, Uchiha?"

"I need you to assign me an S-rank mission, to infiltrate Sound." Kakashi's eye cuts to him, "As a double agent."

[aliceslantern]

Give/Take, a Kingdom Hearts fanfic, chapter 8

Ienzo has been too busy since the war to be overwhelmed by the past. But with little progress to be made in his work with Kairi, old nightmares start to invade.

Riku is a glorified housesitter. Lonely and faced with no choice but to wait for a way to find his friends, he eagerly accepts when Ienzo asks him to help do repairs around the castle. Before long, the two strike up an unlikely friendship, united by their dark pasts and their attempts to be better people.

But just as they begin to consider something more... Kairi wakes up.

Ienzoku (Ienzo/Riku), post-Melody of Memory, slow burn. Updates Thursdays until it's done. Chapter summary:  With Riku gone, and their work done, Ienzo and the others try to move on.

Read it on FF.net/on AO3

---

With their work over… with Riku and Kairi on the other side… Ienzo and the others… had to try and move on.

The lab was a disaster storm of papers and books. After everyone was gone, and after several hours heatedly discussing whatever the hell had just happened… in an exhausted haze, they cleaned up. Even was still muttering about the ridiculousness of it all, and it annoyed him and Ansem both until finally Ansem just said softly, “Even, please, I think we could all do with some silence.”

Even just shook his head and stormed off to his own labs, not, Ienzo was sure, out of anger, but out of confusion.

Ienzo kept sweeping the papers into their piles. He felt so… heavy.

“I suppose we can ask Aeleus or Dilan to help us move the chair,” Ansem said. “We could always leave it until tomorrow, eh?”

“Right,” Ienzo said.

Ansem shook his head. “One has a sensation of “what now,”” he said.

“Yes. Exactly.”

Ansem smoothed his own pile of research. “Well, I could very much go for some ice cream. What do you say?”

“...Yes… alright.”

It wasn’t until both of them had their bars in hand that the silence broke. “He’ll be okay,” Ansem said. “I’m sure of it.”

“I know he will,” Ienzo stuttered. He watched a bead of ice cream roll down the bar; he had yet to bite. Finally, he did, only to get stabbed with a pang of nostalgia. There had been a reason he’d avoided getting one of these, despite his old love for them.

Holding Ansem’s hand walking down the hall to the labs feeling like a very good precious boy for scoring full marks on Even’s test--

“Oh,” he said.

“What is it?”

“It tastes like the past.” He felt tears welling in his eyes, and wasn’t completely sure why. “It tastes like…”

Ansem patted the small of his back. “I know.”

Weeks passed, then months.

Ienzo was never quite sure of what to do with himself. Since he’d woken as this new Ienzo, he’d always had a goal, something urgent hanging over his head. First it was trying to give Roxas a body. Then it was examining Kairi’s heart. Now… pure nothing.

He tried to do some work on the repairs, limited as his knowledge of that sort of thing was. Dilan was insufferable about it, but Aeleus was patient. “It seems like a long while since we've had more than a passing conversation,” Aeleus said. “Hand me the wire cutter.”

Ienzo did. “Yes. It does, doesn’t it?”

“You were always in that lab, or on the phone. One wonders if you even slept.”

“Barely,” he admitted. “Now I feel as though… everything’s just stopped.”

“A moment to breathe,” Aeleus said. He spliced together two wires in the wall and taped them together.

Ienzo shook his head.

“That’s not something you want?”

“I’m not used to it,” he said. “All my life I’ve been going, going, going, and now…”

Aeleus spliced together a few more wires. “Perhaps that will be good for you.”

He snorted. “Hardly.”

“It’s time for us to move on, which is no easy task. For you especially.”

“What do you mean?”

He shot him a look. “I can tell you feel overwhelmed.”

Ienzo sighed.

“It’s understandable for human emotion to feel like too much. We’re all on the same page, Ienzo.”

“Emotions were not nearly so complex when I last remembered them,” Ienzo said.

“You grew up,” Aeleus said.

He looked down into the toolbox. “Do you feel guilty, Aeleus?”

He paused. “I do. Yes. The memories of what we did… are everywhere.”

Ienzo nodded. Now that he had no directive to be in the lab, seeing that closed, sealed door leading down into the basement… Well. He’d started having nightmares more, about the faces of the people he’d broken, and he’d woken up sobbing more than once. How could he put it right? How could he sit here doing nothing ? But what else could he do to help?

Mixed with these memories were others. What do you think if we did this, Ienzo, is that something you’d like to do? He could see the manipulation more clearly now. I’m sorry. Master Ansem isn’t coming back. He’s gone mad.

“Can you try it now?”

“What?” Ienzo asked.

“The breaker.”

Ienzo switched on the panel. Immediately, the lights in the hallway got much brighter, and he winced.

Aeleus nodded once. “Better.” He started packing up the tools. “Ienzo--”

“Yes?”

He shut his eyes tightly. “I must apologize to you,” he said.

“Oh, Aeleus, you weren’t stealing me away from anything.”

“Not that. For… being unable to protect you better.”

“In Castle Oblivion? Aeleus, it’s all--”

“From Xehanort.”

Ienzo froze.

“I knew there was something evil about him, something wrong,” he said. “But he knew just the right way to stoke one’s ego, the… darkness in one’s heart. If any of us had been anything but selfish we could’ve stopped you from falling onto the path too.”

He sighed. “It’s alright, Aeleus.”

“No, it’s not,” he said. “But regardless… I hope our own sins don’t hold you down.”

He wasn’t sure what else to say to that.

“Shall we move on to the next one?”

---

Forgiveness.

The notion of it haunted Ienzo. He felt certain he did not deserve it from others. He hadn’t thought he’d be asked to ever give it.

He tried not to be bitter at the others for what they’d done in their past, but the longer he spent here in this castle with these memories and nothing substantial to do, the more he tried to wrap his head around their lies. Tossing his father away and lying to him about it.

Ienzo made his next major task cleaning up the library. It was a disorganized, chaotic mess, and though it kept his hands busy, the silence was utterly piercing. Had Riku and Kairi arrived at this “unreality”? Had they found Sora? Were they okay? He knew he had to trust in them both, but at the same time, he worried. Given that his bond to Riku had changed radically…

He missed him.

He felt tenderhearted, and a fool. Riku was the only real friend he’d ever had near his own age, and Ienzo did not feel secure in his relationships with the others to talk about anything really substantial. It ached .

Time passed.

---

“Be careful with the nitrogen, Ienzo. I thought I’d taught you better lab etiquette.”

Ienzo sighed heavily and adjusted his grip on the canister. He was supposed to be helping put samples of… something, on ice. Even had told him what, but he couldn’t remember. Lately everything seemed to be in one ear and out the other. He felt scattered.

“Careful now.” With his hair in a cap, and the goggles making his green eyes bulge even more, Even looked a little bit like a bug. What creatures we are, Ienzo thought. “I do so miss the days of our powers. I wouldn’t have needed to fuss with all these chemicals.”

“Do you?” Ienzo asked, carefully pouring in the fluid.

“The magic,” he said, with a sigh. “As much as I try to strengthen what I have left… it will never be as it was. That’s enough. I said that’s enough. ”

Ienzo set the canister down. They both watched the steam roll as the nitrogen boiled, and Even shut the lab’s freezer.

“Indeed, what has gotten into you?” Even asked. “You were never one for absent daydreaming.”

“I’m sorry, Even,” he said dully.

He frowned. He took off his goggles and gloves and went over to the sink to wash his hands. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“Yes. Fine.”

“Will I need Aeleus to drag you to bed again?”

He scowled. “No.”

Even took off the cap, a long braid falling over his shoulders. Not for the first time, Ienzo noticed that the ends of that hair were singed . He caught Ienzo staring and raised an eyebrow. “How have… things been for you?” he asked awkwardly.

“What do you mean? The days are the same as they ever were.”

“Are they?” Even asked. “I’ve been seeing you wander the halls aimlessly. If you need something to do , Ienzo, we can catch up on your chemistry education.”

He shook his head slowly. “With… no life or death task at hand… lately I feel as though… I’m stuck in mud.” He started shedding his own protective garments.

“That’s no surprise. I do too.” He sighed. “To suddenly be thrust back into a normal life… is to suddenly be thrust back into a normal life. After some ten years of abnormality.”

“...Quite.” He recalled when he was a child, and he'd felt quite comfortable telling Even everything.

Even, in fact, had been the one to tell him about Ansem. “What does that look mean?” Even asked.

Ienzo frowned. “I’m… curious. Why did you do it?”

“What? These samples? I’m exploring a new type of replica tech for Xion, Roxas, and Na--”

“Not that. Why did you lie to me all those years ago?”

All of the color left Even’s face, and the only audible sound was the soft hum of the machinery.

Ienzo pulled the bobby pins from his bangs. “I don’t ask this to be confrontational,” he said. “I just… truly, the more time passes, the more I want to know.”

Even squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again. “The truth, the whole, complete truth… is that I feared for our lives.”

Ienzo rolled his eyes.

“I mean it,” Even said in a low voice. “Even with darkness gnawing at our hearts, do you think we didn’t know Xehanort was twisted? That we didn’t know what we were doing was wrong? The thing is… with darkness… with sheer old-fashioned cognitive dissonance… we believed that the discoveries we were making… offset the human cost.” He sighed, and sat down heavily on one of the stools.

Ienzo waited.

“He wanted more subjects,” Even said tiredly. “Once we had run through our mill of the willing… then the coerced… after that, Ansem had found us out. And that he had… well. We were hungry. If Ansem didn’t disappear, and the experiments didn’t continue, he would instead use us . Namely… you. He was interested in children by then.”

Ienzo felt weak.

“It’s the hardest, and worst, decision I’ve ever made in my life,” Even continued, “Seeing we obviously became experiments ourselves. But I think the three of us were… trying … to protect you in the last way our twisted and darkening hearts could. It was Ansem or you and I chose you.”

He felt dizzy.

“I shouldn’t have lied, I know that much. Or even if I lied I should’ve told you the truth soon afterwards, when you could take it. But I was deathly afraid of word of you knowing somehow getting back to Xehanort. I’m not sure why that felt so urgent. Maybe you would’ve said something ill against him, and you were so small , I was afraid he’d…” He swallowed. “Ienzo, I’m not sure how I can impart to you how sorry I am. I don’t deserve your forgiveness. If I could go back right now and stop it all I would. I was vain, I was foolish, I thought it was… all worth it. But none of it was. Nothing.”

Ienzo had never seen this side of Even before.

“And yet somehow we’re still alive,” he continued wryly. “We’re alive. We’re whole. Somehow the town hasn’t come after us with torches and pitchforks. That has to mean something. I… plan to dedicate whatever’s left of my life to making things better, easier, for the people of this town. I know it’s some hope.”

“I see,” he said, numbly. “Thanks for that.”

“It’s because of all that you grew up a husk,” Even murmured. “And for that… I’m sorry, Ienzo.”

Ienzo realized he didn’t forgive him. Not yet. “I know,” he said.

Even stood. “I think you, out of all of us especially, get to deserve to try for something like happiness,” he said.

“You do?” he asked dryly. “But I… even I have done awful things--”

“Things you wouldn’t have done, I’m certain, if we hadn’t guided you onto that path,” Even said.

“Don’t exonerate me,” Ienzo said, with something like panic.

“It’s the truth,” he said. “You can’t expect your younger self to have magically risen above. If you’d gone against us, Ienzo, with no Ansem, where would you have gone? Would you have known how to survive?”

Something tight and hot surged in his breast and throat.

“You wouldn’t have,” Even said. “You were a… a rather sheltered child. Ienzo, I just… I hope you can learn to forgive yourself. You’re too young to suffer your whole life.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, like he was being crushed from the inside out. He found himself being eased onto one of the stools. He was sobbing, disjointedly, an awful aching weight inside of him beginning to lift because Even was right.

“Oh dear. That made it worse, not better, didn’t it,” Even said. He offered Ienzo a tissue.

“No,” he sobbed. “I… I think I understand.”

“Let it out,” he said. “Let it go.”

So Ienzo did. Awful, and humiliating, but at the same time a weird pressure was beginning to ease. Even rubbed circles into his back. It seemed to take a long, long time, and when he was through he felt exhausted, but not as horrible as he thought.

“There we go,” Even said, in a voice Ienzo remembered from his childhood. “Better?”

Ienzo swallowed. “I… I think so.”

---

Ienzo… took time. He walked a lot, even as the fall deepened into winter into spring. He read a lot of novels and kept doing repairs and tried to understand what it meant to be human.

Ienzo missed Riku.

Nobody had heard from any of them since the last he’d seen. He thought often of their kiss, what it had made him feel. Wondered if he would ever get to do it again, or if it were just a memory. Wondered what exactly this affection meant. More than like, more than attraction. Surely not love, not yet? He tried not to dwell on it much, tried to let the feeling pass like it was a bad cold. But it didn’t.

He was dozing over a pile of books in the library when his phone rang. It was late at night, so late as to be early. Sleepily, he stirred to look at the caller ID, and his heart jackhammered into his throat. He looked--he was sure he looked absolutely hideous--he scrambled to smooth the hair over his face. “Hello?”

The lighting on Riku’s video was awful, but Ienzo could see most of his face, some of it partially obscured by hair that had gotten even longer. He looked a bit thin, and very tired. “Ienzo. Ienzo.”

“You’re back.” He couldn’t restrain the emotion anymore.

“I’m back. I’m home.”

“You’re okay?” They were nearly talking over each other.

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I just got in, I just saw my parents, I knew I had to talk to you. I wanted to. I needed to. I…” He sounded choked up.

“How are your friends? Did you find him? Are they okay?”

“Sora and Kairi are fine. They’re with their families. We’re home.”

“You’re home. It’s okay. You’re okay.” He wasn’t sure if he was stating a fact or trying to comfort him.

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional--”

“No, don’t be, this is huge.” Ienzo swallowed his own tears. “It’s so good to hear your voice.”

“Yours too.”

A long pause. “You must be exhausted,” Ienzo said. “You should try to get some rest.”

“I just wanted to let you know I’m here.”

“Thank you.” He wondered if he should admit it. “I’ve… thought of you often.”

He laughed. Ienzo noted it sounded quite weak. “What, did you miss me?”

“Much to my chagrin.” His heart was in his throat. “Though I guess you were too busy adventuring to think of me at all.”

His face fell just the slightest.

“I’m… I’m sorry. That was a bit tactless.”

“It’s not you,” Riku said. “It’s just… it was really… a lot, I’m still… trying to accept how it all went down.” He took an audible breath. “But I did miss you. Kairi… wouldn’t let me live it down. Guess we didn’t seem so slick.”

He laughed a little.

“I’m not even sure how long it’s been for you guys, between the… the worldines, and the unreality, and the… I’m dizzy. ”

“Six months.”

“...Oh. Wow, that’s… more than I thought.”

“I’m just so glad you’re alright. I’ve been worried. You made me worried.”

He laughed. “Well you don’t have to worry anymore.”

“I guess not.” He didn’t quite feel the relief yet, still shaky with adrenaline. “Thanks for calling. You didn’t have to do it instantly. ”

“I sorta did,” Riku said. “I wanted to let you know.”

“When things… settle, when you get some rest. Will you call again? Or write me? Tell me what exactly you’ve gone through?”

“Yes. I will, I’m just… I should… talk to my parents, my mom’s watching me out of the backdoor to make sure I don’t disappear.”

“Of course. Be with your family. Be home. I hope you can enjoy it.”

“...Thank you. Um--”

“Until next time.”

“Right. Yes.”

He hung up, and for a long time Ienzo just sat starting at the blank phone screen. He let out a long, long sigh.

Riku was back. Riku hadn’t forgotten about… whatever they’d had. He’d made it a priority.

Ienzo hugged the phone to his chest, feeling like a schoolboy.