#at least he's loved by me as if two people loved him 🤎

[readingfolklore]

guys, i'm having a freak out session about turning 30 in just over 4 months... never thought i'd reach my 30's tbh, i was meant to stay stuck in my 20's forever, nooo. 😿

[avis-writeshq]

02 — haunted

summary: “something’s gone terribly wrong, you’re all i wanted.”/“you’re not gone, you can’t be gone.” pairing: spencer reid x fem!reader genre: best friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst warnings: rated 16+ for alcohol, religious talk (inaccurate portrayal of Christianity), vomit, INCREDIBLY CANON COMPLIANT ‼️IF YOU WERE TRIGGERED BY S2 EP15 REVELATIONS IN CRIMINAL MINDS, DO NOT READ THIS‼️ wc: 10.1k a/n: another special mention to @astrophileous for beta reading and hyping me up!! love you loads zahra 🤎 (she's also doing an AMAZING derek morgan series that i have the honour in beta-in so if you have time please do check it out!! it is an absolute work of art) SPARKS FLY MASTERLIST // MAIN MASTERLIST

There is never a dull day when working at the BAU. After weeks of cases and paperwork, a night out was exactly what everyone needed. A place to get drunk, have fun and unwind– and O'Keefe's was the exact place to do just that.

“You know, you can at least try to look like you’re having fun,” Emily muses, nudging your shoulder. 

Emily joined the team soon after Elle had resigned, and as much as you missed your friend, you enjoyed Emily’s company. She’s too observant for her own good; grinning at you from across the room whenever you have the slightest interaction with certain people. She’s a brilliant addition to the team, much to your chagrin, but you know it’s all in good fun. Well, all in good fun for her.

You shoot her a playful glare, sipping on your drink. “I am having fun!”

“Liar,” Emily says instantly, grinning at you. “C’mon, what’s going on?”

“Nothing,” you deny, “I’m just tired. Things have been… busy to say the least. I’m just glad that the team is getting some R&R. Well deserved, might I add. How are you? You know, with joining the team and all that.”

She smiles in your direction before downing a shot and shrugging. “It’s been good! Yeah, everyone is so… welcoming. It’s nice.”

“Different to a desk job?” You ask with a teasing lilt in your voice. 

Emily laughs softly. “Yeah, totally.”

Your gaze shifts to where Spencer is sitting, for once enjoying himself in such a crowded area. He’s talking to two strangers at a table, his hands gesticulating as he explains something and the two people seem thoroughly amused. 

“So… Spencer, huh?”

You frown. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”

Emily laughs, “You’re staring at him with heart eyes. Anyone can tell. Except for him, apparently.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“For a profiler, you’re a horrible liar.”

You let out something that sounds akin to a dying cow, turning your attention back to your drink. Your attention wavers and it shifts back to Spencer who is enthusiastically talking about something to the two amused guests. He grins at them as they drink, his own cup still full. Derek is thoroughly enjoying himself as he dances with a group of girls, and you can see Aaron and Haley dancing together on the floor as well. It’s wholesome, seeing everyone in their casual wear and just having fun.  

“You should talk to him,” Emily tries again, nudging you. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do.”

You raise an eyebrow. “You’re bribing me to talk to my best friend?”

“I’m bribing you to give me entertainment,” she corrects, laughing.

“You’re horrible,” you tell her, smiling, as you walk past her in Spencer’s direction. “I expect that drink to be delivered to me.”

“Deal!” She calls after you, downing a shot as she watches you. 

Spencer smiles when he sees you make your way over to him, shuffling his chair to the side to give you more room. 

“Hi,” he murmurs, pulling your seat closer to him. “Having fun?”

“I should be asking that to you,” you respond, smiling. The two people he was once talking to take their leave, giggling about something you couldn’t quite make out. “I didn’t mean to scare away your company.”

He immediately shakes his head at your words. “I’d rather talk to you anyway.”

You can’t help the silly grin that spreads across your face or the way your cheeks heat up and you cough. “Well, I hope I can live up to your expectations.”

Spencer laughs, his hand gravitating to your knee and he squeezes good-naturedly. “You exceed them.”

You think he’s trying to kill you and you swear you stop breathing as you choke out, “I’m glad.”

It isn’t long before Emily makes good on her promise, and a waiter appears on your left. He presents a drink to your table, the glass adorned with a lemon rind and a raspberry, and you eagerly take a gulp. 

Spencer frowns a little as he watches you drink. “Aren’t you going to question who it’s from?”

“I know who it’s from,” you respond cheerfully, letting out a contented sigh. You offer the drink to him, moving the straw so that it’s pointing in his direction. “Want some?”

He eyes the pink drink suspiciously. “What is it?”

“It’s a Pink Bikini!” You chirp, sipping the drink again. “Like… coconut rum, raspberries, and lemonade. It’s good, Spence, you can barely taste the alcohol.”

His nose scrunches at the idea of coconut rum. “I dunno.”

“You’re not gonna get drunk from one sip,” you protest happily, a little tipsy. “It’s good! Besides, how do you know you’re not going to like it if you never try it?”

“You’re literally drunk right now!” He points out, laughing a little and moving the drink out of your reach. “Give it to me.”

“That’s only because I had a couple drinks earlier,” you argue, lunging for the glass. You’re quick but Spencer is quicker (and taller), and he chugs the drink before slamming it back onto the table. “Spencer!”

He grins at you, smacking his lips as he plays with the paper straw. “I’m protecting you, (Y/N). Who knows what you would’ve done if you drank any more.”

“You’re insufferable,” you chastise half-heartedly, “I was thirsty.”

“I have water,” he says, fishing a plastic bottle out of his satchel. He cracks the lid open, taking a sip himself before passing it to you. “Drinking even moderate amounts of alcohol can lead to dehydration. Drinking water slows down this effect, allowing the liver to metabolise the alcohol that was already consumed. This also means you won’t have as bad a hangover tomorrow morning.”

You beam at him, taking tentative sips from his water bottle. The fact that you’re drinking from the same bottle as him is not lost on you, nor the fact that he finished your drink by using your straw– your lipgloss stained straw– and he didn’t even bat an eye. 

“What would I do without you?” You croon, handing his bottle back. 

“Probably die of dehydration,” he responds, taking one last gulp of water, before returning the bottle back to his bag. 

“Ah, yes, that’s right,” you laugh again, beaming at him. You’re not sure if it’s from the drinks, but you can feel your cheeks begin to flush. Did it get hotter in here?

“Hey, sorry to be the bearer of bad news but we have a case,” JJ pats your shoulder sympathetically, frowning. “Horrible timing, but it’s urgent.”

You all but whine. “But I’m tipsy.”

“I’ve got aspirin in my bag,” JJ says, “you’ll be fine.”

“Stupid serial killer,” you huff, getting up from your seat. “They owe me a day off.”

*** 

“You know it never fails. Just as I’m getting my groove thang going, bam! We’re back at the BAU,” Derek says, pouring himself a much needed cup of coffee and sitting at the roundtable.

Spencer shrugs. “You know, statistically, a case doesn’t come in with any more frequency if you’re at a party or gathering than if you aren’t. It’s a… trick of the mind. We merely remember the ones that came in that way more.”

“Besides, how long does it take for you to get your ‘groove thang’ going anyway?” You tease, sipping from your own cup of coffee, and Emily cackles from beside you. 

“Only when he’s sleeping,” Gideon comments, walking into the conference room and taking off his coat. 

Hotch’s brows raise in a mixture of surprise and concern. “Where were you tonight?”

“I told you, I went to the Smithsonian,” he grunts as he sits into his chair.

“You missed a good time,” Emily insists, smiling.

“I had a good time,” Gideon responds, his attention turning back to the screen where JJ was getting ready to present the latest case. 

“Well, that’s definitely over,” she says, flicking the screen on. “Georgia. The Kyles– Dennis and Lacy– were murdered an hour ago in the suburban Atlanta home.”

Hotch’s brows raise in surprise. “An hour ago?”

JJ nods. “Police were on the scene unusually fast.”

“Why?” Derek asks, leaning over the table.

“One of the UnSubs called them and told them that the other was about to murder the victims.”

You huff out a laugh in disbelief. “You’re kidding.”

“From inside the house.” JJ purses her lips, gesturing to the transcript that was printed out in their files. “According to the dispatcher, the first male sounded terrified and begged them to get there before the other, who they both identified as Raphael, was about to kill the sinners that lived there.”

“‘Sinners’?” Hotch echoes.

JJ nods again, a grimace painted over her features. “The 911 centre is going to send Garcia the tape.”

“How fast was the police response time?” Spencer asks, glancing at the screen.

“Four minutes, twenty-six seconds. During which time Raphael was able to do…” JJ clicks a button on the remote and an array of gruesome crime scene photos popped up onto the screen. “This.”

“In four and a half minutes?” Emily asks incredulously, frowning. 

Garcia immediately turns away from the screen, clutching her mug closer to her chest. You can’t help but cringe as well from the violence presented in the photos: blood everywhere, smeared across the walls and floors of the house, and the victims lifeless. 

“Mr. Kyle is a dot-com millionaire. His company is one of the largest employers in the community. There’s going to be media coverage. Also, when they arrived, the police found this displayed prominently on the bed.”

Another image appears on the screen, this time a page of the Bible placed into a plastic evidence bag with a certain section highlighted. 

“Revelation, Chapter 6, Verse 8,” Hotch reads for the rest of the team.

Derek can’t help but scoff. “They’re killing sinners.” 

“These guys are on a mission. And mission-based killers will not stop killing,” Spencer says with a wince. 

“‘And I looked, and behold, a pale horse, and his name that sat upon him was Death,” Hotch begins, eyes trained on the Bible page.

Gideon continues, his voice quiet and grim, “And Hell followed with him.”

*** 

You sigh tiredly as you slump into the seat beside Spencer, playing with the cap of your water bottle. The sky outside is painted in oranges and purples as the sun begins to rise, and you try to hold back the frustrated groan when you see the blaring ‘4:22AM’ flash on your watch. 

“Is everything okay?” Spencer asks quietly, looking over at you.

You shake your head, running your fingers through your hair. “I just… I have a bad feeling about this case. There’s something… off about it.”

He hums in thought, “we’ve dealt with religious motives before, though.”

“I know but just–” you huff, leaning against the headrest. “It’s just weird. I mean, usually if one of the UnSubs were partnered with someone who was a liability, they’d eliminate them. But that’s just not happening here.”

“Don’t think about the case,” Spencer says gently, resting the palm of his hand flat against your knee. “It’ll be fine, trust me.”

When you don’t respond, he pokes your cheek gently shooting you a lopsided smile. “Hey. It’ll be okay.”

“I hope it will be,” you respond quietly, moving so that your cheek is pressed against his shoulder. “But you saw those images; what the UnSubs can do in less than five minutes. I know it’s nothing we haven’t seen before but–”

“(Y/N).” He squeezes your knee again and you flush as he continues to speak. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be back home before you know it. Trust me.”

You nod, although you can’t shake this feeling off. “Promise you’ll be safe?”

Spencer smiles at you. “Promise.”

*** 

“I think I’m gonna be sick,” you mutter, turning away as the video of Mr. Kyle being murdered plays on repeat. Your stomach churns at the mere mental image that pops up in your mind, and a chill run downs your spine. 

The case is a lot more gruesome than you expected it to be, especially when it came to the team’s attention that a video of the murder was circulating the internet. The video was currently being played on loop, with the voice of the UnSubs playing out of the computer. You thought you saw it all but this was unlike anything you’ve ever experienced. 

That is, until Spencer stood from his seat. 

“Agent Franks?” He whispers, looking towards the lead detective. “Does this building have wireless internet?”

Agent Franks nods. “Yeah. Why?”

Spencer swallows, gesturing to the computer. “That camera’s on right now. The computer has connected itself to the internet; it’s streaming a video feed somewhere.”

Hotch’s concern only deepens, along with the frown on his face. “Can we trace the stream to the destination?”

“If we keep it open, Garcia might be able to–” Spencer begins, only to be cut off by a beeping from the computer.

In bright red lettering, the words: ‘THE ARMIES OF SATAN SHALL NOT PREVAIL’ flash against the black screen before turning off.

“So, they’re controlling it remotely?” Hotch asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Is that even possible?” Emily asks in disbelief. 

“Yeah, you can totally access someone’s computer remotely. It’s actually done a lot today when a mortal calls for tech support. Instead of giving you instructions the tech can work on your computer from wherever she is,” Garcia explains through the phone. 

“And they maintain the access even after the work is done?” Hotch asks.

“They’re not supposed to, but I suppose you could install a Trojan horse.”

Spencer turns to Gideon. “Something left in the computer to be turned on later. It’s the same way that websites get pop-up ads onto your computer.”

“Garcia can you check the Kyles’ phone records and see if they called tech support in the last six months?” Hotch requests as he flips through the Kyle family’s folder. 

“Right-o. Oh, and if you get me the laptop I can search the drive for anything implanted there.”

Hotch nods. “As fast as we can.”

“By the way, this video? It’s gone crazy viral.”

Gideon frowns. “What does that mean?”

“That means it’s the most downloaded video on the entire Internet. Worldwide. And judging by the responses people seem to think it’s pretty cool.”

“Call us if you find anything on the Kyles’ computer,” Hotch mutters, before the phone hangs up.

“Honestly, they probably don’t even realise that the video is real,” you say quietly, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I mean, you see a video on the internet. The last thing you’d think is that it’s actual people being murdered.”

“They probably think that it’s marketing for a horror film or something,” JJ adds on, but the look on her face is just as disgusted.

“Well, the UnSubs were right about one thing,” Derek mutters, nodding grimly. “The world is pretty screwed up.”

*** 

After hours of going through files and trying to find a paper trail, you’re left with a mountain of paperwork in front of you and sore eyes. You press the pads of your fingers against the corner of your eyes, slumping over the table. 

“Hey.” 

Spencer’s voice brings you out of your thoughts and you peek a look at him. “Hm?”

A takeaway cup of coffee is placed in front of you and you immediately perk up. He chuckles softly, patting your head. “You looked like you needed it.”

You spy the name written across the paper cup and frown. “It’s your coffee.”

“You need it more than me,” he says honestly, smiling. “Besides, I’m okay.”

You take a tentative sip of the drink, the sweetness of the sugar overwhelming the bitter taste of the coffee but you don’t mind it. Instead, you didn’t actually mind it; especially because it’s from him. 

“Thank you,” you murmur. “We can share it if you want.”

He shakes his head ‘no’, turning back to the files on the page. “Where did you get up to?”

“Nowhere special. Agent Franks is right; there’s nothing in any of the files relating to knife fights that are remotely similar to the case,” you say, slumping against the table and leaning your head on your arm. “I’ve got six or so left to go through but I’m not getting much luck anyway.”

At that moment, JJ enters the room, holding another cream coloured file. “What if we were looking at this the wrong way?”

Hotch turns to her. “What do you mean?”

“I looked for unsolved home invasions. Three months ago there was a prowler called in directly outside of the Kyles’ house.”

Your brows knit together at her words and look up at her. “A prowler?”

JJ nods. “The witness was walking his dog in a nearby park. Going back to his car, he saw a man in dark clothing go over the back wall and start sneaking up to the house. By the time the police got there, the prowler was gone.”

“Only one man?” Hotch asks. 

“Apparently.”

“Was the witness able to describe the man?” Spencer questions.

JJ looks into the papers before shaking her head. “If he did, it’s not in this case file.

Hotch looks at JJ then back at the corkboard. “Is there a name and address to the witness?”

“Tobias Hankel,” JJ reads. “Lives about an hour from here.”

Hotch lets out a heavy sigh, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a long shot, but he might be able to give us a description. Why don’t you and Reid go out there, see if you can find Mr Hankel, and see if he remembers anything.”

You immediately frown, perking up at his words. “I can go too, sir. There’s a safety in numbers.”

“You’re exhausted and we need you here,” Hotch says, immediately shutting your suggestion down. “We don’t need three people to talk to a witness.”

Your face falls and your stomach churns. “I understand that, sir, but it’s late and wouldn’t it be safer if more people go?”

“We’ll be fine,” Spencer reassures, squeezing your arm. “We’ll be armed and we’ve got our phones.”

A small breath escapes you and you nod slowly, chewing your bottom lip. “Okay. Be safe.”

He smiles. “I will.”

JJ snickers lightly, turning to Hotch. “Be safe,” she echoes, grinning.

Hotch can’t help but chuckle as he returns with, “I’ll be so safe.”

“Oh shut up,” you laugh, rolling your eyes. “I’m gonna kill you.”

JJ grins. “But how will that keep us safe?”

You throw an eraser at her shoulder in response and she laughs loudly, walking out of the room. Spencer squeezes your arm again, rubbing your shoulder through the fabric of his jumper before following after her. 

It isn’t long before the lead detective rushes into the room, his words flying out of his mouth. “Agent Hotchner, we got another murder.”

*** 

“Tobias Hankel is the UnSub.”

Five words is all it takes for your world to come crashing down around you. Hankel? The UnSub? Your mouth is dry as the head detective explains about the dogs and you think you’re going to throw up. Your mind spins and your chest pounds with anxiety because oh God, what’s going to happen to the others? 

“We sent Spencer and JJ there,” you whisper, your throat closing up. You tug desperately at your collar, trying to breathe. “Oh my God, we sent them there. We sent them there.”

“Hey, hey,” Derek is quick to ground you, gripping your shoulders firmly. “They’ll be okay. It’s Spencer Genius Reid and Jennifer Bad-ass Jareau. They’ll be okay.”

You shake your head firmly, pulling away from his grasp and clutching your head. “I should be there with them. I should have gone with them. We don’t know what Tobias is capable of, Morgan, something could have happened to them.”

“We’re dispatching police now,” the detective says, getting off the phone. 

Tears spill from the corners of your eyes and you try to keep your breathing steady. It doesn’t work. The room is spinning and you can’t see straight. The words your team are trying to get through to you fades into background noise and you let out a choked sob. 

“They could be–” Your words don’t make it off your tongue and you turn, gesturing to the black screen that was once playing the video of the woman and the dogs. “Oh my God.”

“(Y/N),” Emily holds your shoulders tightly, her words a mixture of firmness and care as she tries to snap you out of it. “They’re going to be okay. We have to go there now.”

“They can’t be gone. Spencer can’t be gone,” you say, more to yourself than anything. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s go. We have to find them.”

The others don’t need to be told twice. You get into the passenger seat with Emily, trying to calm your breathing. One hour is too long. Why does Tobias have to live so far away? You press the palm of your hand to your mouth, the lump in your throat getting bigger. Hot tears fall down your cheeks as the world becomes a blur of flashing lights and you try not to cry. It’s your fault. You should have been there with him. There’s safety in numbers. Why didn’t you trust your gut?

“Don’t do that,” Emily says sternly, gripping the wheel tighter. 

You can’t bring yourself to respond, merely shaking your head adamantly. 

“Stop blaming yourself,” Emily tries again, glancing at you for a second before turning her attention back to the road. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should be there with them.” Your voice cracks pathetically and you wipe furiously at your eyes.

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I should have.”

She looks at you again. “Stop. You couldn’t have known. It’s not your fault.”

The rest of the car ride is silent. You’ve learned that this is the hardest part of the job: losing someone. Losing someone because of a job. It seems ridiculous, considering that it’s something so miniscule in the grand scheme of things, and yet it is the most common factor in divorces. A lack of commitment. Instead of committing to something that actually matters and can’t be replaced, their attention turns to something so lacklustre. If Spencer were here he would tell you the exact statistics. If Spencer were here, you wouldn’t even need to think about the statistics. 

The sound of sirens echo through the once quiet country area and the police officers file out of their cars. You fasten your Kevlar vest over your chest hastily, fumbling with the clasps as you jump out of the car. 

“John, Bobby, take the house with Hotch, Gideon and (L/N),” the captain orders, pointing towards the house. 

Your stomach lurches as Hotch busts the door open, and you move upstairs with your gun pointed out. 

“Clear!” You yell, rendezvousing with Hotch and Gideon soon after. 

“Downstairs is clear,” Hotch says, nodding towards you. 

“Then where the hell is he?” Gideon mutters, looking around the rooms of the house.

The blood rushes to your ears and the air grows thick. You can’t breathe. The house is unmaintained with mould growing in the corners of the rooms and dust gathering on the shelves, the paint on the walls cracking from water damage. Your eyes sting as the air pricks at your skin, and your legs carry you down the stairs and out the house.

“JJ,” you breathe, your eyes wide as you meet the blonde sitting at the back of an ambulance. You pull her into a hug. “You’re okay.”

It’s a different JJ to what you’re used to. She’s always been put together with not a hair out of place. She’s usually so full of life and mirth, bringing a sense of serenity and security when you need it most but this… 

Her blue eyes are red and puffy from crying and she’s shaking miserably against your body. She scratches at her wrists and picks at the bandages, her bottom lip trembling. Her gun is set beside her, not in the holster she usually carries it in.

“(Y/N),” she sobs, her voice cracking. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“What happened?” You demand. “Where’s Spencer?”

“I’m so sorry,” she repeats, shaking her head. “I tried–”

“Where is he, Jennifer?” You ask, pulling away from her like she burned you. “Where is he?”

She sobs again, clutching her head. “I don’t know, we separated–”

“What do you mean you separated?!” You’re trying not to scream. Your thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Spencer is gone. He’s gone. “Why would you do that?”

Jennifer lets out a wail, trying to explain herself through broken words. “We didn’t– he said– I’m sorry I’m sorry–”

“‘Sorry’ doesn’t bring him here, does it?” The words are harsh and low, and you tug at your collar again. “He’s not here, Jennifer! Does that mean nothing to you?!”

“(L/N), that’s enough.”

Hotch’s voice makes you snap your head in his direction and you see red. 

“I told you I should have gone with them,” you snap, and it doesn’t even occur to you that this man is your boss. “If I went with them, Spencer would still be here right now!”

“(L/N).”

“No.” You glare at him menacingly, too deep in your anger to even comprehend anything else. “He should be here right now! He should– he should be spouting out statistics or coming up with some theory! He should be here and he’s not!”

“We’ll find him. Trust me.”

“I did!” You yell, your voice fervent. “I trusted your judgement! And look where that got us. Spencer is gone. He’s not here, Hotch, because I trusted you!”

“(Y/N), enough.” Hotch is firm and he stares you down. “That is enough, do I need to remind you who you are speaking to?”

In an instant you stop, your heart lurching and you quiver. “... This is my fault.”

He immediately shakes his head no. “It’s not your fault.”

“I should have gone with him. I should have– it’s my fault. It’s my fault.” Your eyes well with tears and you tug at your hair erratically. “He can’t be gone. He’s not gone. He’ll figure something out. Why didn’t I do something? I should have–”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” Hotch grips your shoulders squarely, bending down so that he’s eye level with you. “Take deep breaths.”

Your lungs burn as you try to breathe, hot ragged breaths leaving your lips shakily as you cover your face with the palms of your hands. Tears fall down your cheeks and gather in your hands as you make a desperate attempt to calm yourself down. It’s all too much. The sky is pitch black and the feeling of cold rain stings and bites your skin. The sounds of sirens fade away and for a moment it’s just quiet. Quiet, except for the words and the voices that swirl in your mind. 

“A man that matches Hankel’s description was spotted in the next town over.”

Derek’s words bring you out of your thoughts and you manage a soft, “What?”

“Alright,” Hotch nods, before turning back to you. “Go back to the police department.”

“What?” Your ears are ringing. You must have heard wrong. “No. No, no, I can’t– no, Hotch, I’m not going back to the police department. Spencer is missing.”

“You’re too close to the case.”

A humourless laugh leaves your lips as you stare at him. “We’re all too close to the case, Hotch. Look around!”

“You attacked JJ and you raised your voice at me. I want you to go back to the police department and work the case from there.” He speaks to you as if he were speaking to a child and it makes you feel sick.  

“Oh, so you’re punishing me?”

“No, I’m using you,” he says firmly, and then his voice softens. “It won’t do you any good to be here, (Y/N), you know that.”

“Aaron,” you try again, your voice wavering. “Please, don’t do this to me.”

“Go back and find us something that we can use.” He turns to one of the policemen. “Make sure she gets there.”

The policeman nods, tipping his hat, and gesturing for you to follow him. 

“Wait I– let me talk to JJ. I need– just, please,” you say quickly, clearing your throat. “Sir.”

He’s sceptical before nodding. “Go ahead.”

You don’t need to be told twice. In moments you turn back to the ambulance, letting out a heavy breath. “I’m sorry.”

JJ shakes her head adamantly. “No, you’re right. It was my fault.”

“It’s not,” you say quietly. “I know Spencer and I know you. It was… probably his idea to split up.”

She smiles wryly, fiddling at the bandage on her arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you say again. You’re not sure who you’re trying to convince anymore. “You went through something too and I ignored that and that wasn’t right of me. I’m sorry.”

JJ sniffles, pursing her lips. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be,” you respond quietly, patting her arm. “I need to go. Um, Hotch wants me off the case, or something.”

She nods. “Okay.”

You look at her again, the guilt building like bile in your stomach. “I really am sorry.”

“I know,” she whispers, wiping the tears away from her eyes. “We’ll find him.”

You don’t respond.

*** 

Everything hurts. His head is pounding and he can feel the sticky blood drip from the side of his head and against his cheek. His feet hurt from each thwack of wood, and his wrists hurt from the handcuffs. It’s cold. So, so cold, and he feels so weak. No amount of knowledge or training could have prepared him for this.

Spencer’s throat throbs from crying. No matter how many times he tries to convince whatever personality is taking over Tobias, it never seems to work. What’s the point of being a profiler if he can’t even save himself?

The creaking of the door brings him out of his thoughts and he jolts. Tobias, at least who appears to be Tobias, enters the room carrying a slaughtered animal. A shiver runs down Spencer’s spine and all he can do is watch. 

“You need to eat,” the man says, his voice strangely soft and oddly calm. 

“What’s your name?” Spencer asks, his voice small.

The man looks back at him. “Tobias.”

“Tobias, who was here before?” The fear is obvious in his voice and Spencer just wishes for an ounce of Hotch’s stoicism or Derek’s bravery. 

Tobias chuckles weakly. “It was probably my father. I’m sorry if he hurt you.”

Before he could comprehend his movements, Tobias takes off his belt and walks over to him. Spencer fears the worst. Did Tobias’s father take over again? He tries to inch away, struggling against the restraints as best he could.

“W-What are you doing?” Spencer asks shakily, trying to pull away from him.

Tobias doesn’t respond, slipping one end of the belt above his elbow. Everything begins to click.

“No, no. Don’t. Please, please don’t.” He resorts to begging. 

In this moment, Spencer hates the way his mind works because he doesn’t need to know the statistics. He doesn’t need to know that 75% of drug abusers started out using pain killers. His head swirls with what Tobias could be using. Codeine? Heroin? Opium? The list goes on and he tries to keep his breathing steady.

“It helps,” Tobias says, ignoring the way Spencer trembles and shakes his head adamantly. “Don’t tell my father. He doesn’t know they’re here.”

Tobias takes the syringe and the bottle out of his pocket and Spencer sobs even harder. He tries to appease him again, shrinking away as best he could in his chair. 

“Please,” he tries again, his chest heaving and tears wetting his waterline. “Please, I don’t want it, I don’t want it.”

“Trust me. I know.”

“Please,” he begs, tears slipping down his cheeks. “Don’t.”

Tobias doesn’t listen. 

The effects are far too quick for codeine, heroin or opium and Spencer can feel it hit. He knows it’s wrong. He can go on for hours about the statistics about it but the feeling so euphoric that he can’t help it. And then he sees it. 

“We have another recruit as well. Came in a couple weeks ago,” Derek told him, walking him through the halls of the BAU headquarters. “She’s part of the academy Honours program. Top of the class, apparently.”

“Oh.” Spencer nodded slowly, fidgeting with the zip of his bag.

Derek grinned. “Relax, kid. You still have the most impressive résumé. She’s just an intern; doing paperwork, mainly.”

“I wasn’t– I wasn’t worried about that,” Spencer stammered, wetting his bottom lip. “I mean– not that I think she isn’t smart or anything. I just meant–”

“Kid, I mean it when you have to relax,” Derek snorted as he opens up the door to the bullpen “Meet the rest of the team.”

He walked through the doors, ready to make his mark. He’s spent so long believing that he was nothing but now… he took another step, meeting Hotch’s gaze and– he didn’t get very far when something catapulted into his side. There was a flurry of paper work and cream coloured files, case details splayed all over the floor. Spencer grunted a little, tumbling to the ground like a house of cards. 

“Oh, my God, I am– I am so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going and I was running and I am not used to office attire! I am so sorry!” 

The ramblings of a girl– she couldn’t be older than him, at least, not by much– filled Spencer’s ears and he grimaces. “No, it’s– it’s okay. Don’t– uh– don’t worry about it.”

“(Y/N)...” JJ huffed out a quiet laugh, helping the other girl to her feet. “Are you guys okay?”

“I’m okay,” Spencer said, slowly getting to his feet. 

The girl didn’t do the same, instead scrambling to pick up the multitude of papers that litter the floor. “I’m fine! Just– great. Great. Brilliant.”

Spencer immediately started to reach for the papers, trying his best not crumple them up anymore than they already were. “You’re… the intern?”

“Is it that obvious?” You ask, breathless. “I’m still getting used to all…” You gesture wildly to the interior of the bullpen. “... this.”

“(Y/N), meet Doctor Spencer Reid. He’s the youngest addition to the team. Reid, meet (Y/N) (L/N). She’s part of the Academy Honours Program,” Gideon introduces, peering at the two of you from behind his glasses. 

“Hi,” you said meekly, stretching out your hand.

His words hitched in his throat because once he’s gotten past the flying papers and the fact that you literally ran into him, he realises just how beautiful you are. You were right there in front of him, close enough to touch but–

“I don’t shake hands,” he said quietly, the anxiety gnawing at his stomach. His fingers twitch at his sides and he moves them to grip the handle of his satchel. “Sorry.”

You smile at him and his heart thunders in his chest. Is this how Romeo felt when he met Juliet? Or how Charles Bingley felt when he met Jane Bennett? 

“It’s okay,” you told him, tucking the papers under your arm. “Don’t worry about it. So, you’re a doctor? That’s really cool!”

“Reid here got accepted into the BAU without even taking a physical exam,” Derek chimed in, practically bragging about Spencer’s intellectual prowess. “Isn’t that right, kid?”

“I’m not an athletic person,” Spencer said awkwardly, his worries dissipating when he heard you laugh good-naturedly. Regardless, he felt the urge to defend himself. “I’m not weak.”

JJ laughed along. “We know, Spencer.”

“I’m not weak… I’m not weak…”

“I don’t give a damn whether you’re weak or strong.” 

Spencer barely manages to blink his eyes open as he hears the familiar timbre of Tobias’s father’s voice fill the room. He’s slowly coming down from the high of the drugs and the room spins as he does. 

“Yell all you want boy,” Tobias sneers, bending down so that he’s eye level with Spencer. “Ain’t no one gonna hear you where you are.”

As if to prove his point, he begins to scream. Deep and rumbly, and it jolts Spencer back to reality. He wishes he was careful. He wishes he was with you.

*** 

“Tobias has dissociative identity disorder,” Garcia explains to you through the phone, and you slap a hand to your forehead. 

“That makes so much sense,” You mutter to yourself, pacing around the room of the police department. “I should have seen it. It was right there in front of me and I missed it.”

Penelope hums, her voice tense with worry. “Don’t beat yourself up about it. No one knew until we started digging into the journals and cross-checking dates.”

“I know but–” You rub your eyes, cringing as stars litter your vision– “it was just so obvious. What else have you gotten?”

It has been a little over ten hours since Hotch sent you back to the police department and you haven’t gotten much sleep. You tried, you swear you tried, but every time you see the terrified face of Spencer and it makes you sick. The whiteboard in front of you is littered with different evidence files and profiles. Profiles on Tobias, profiles on the victims, geographical profiles… the list goes on. 

“We know that Tobias is an addict,” Emily says. “He picked dilaudid as his poison.”

“For someone so hellbent on following the Bible, he’s incredibly hypocritical,” You say, jotting down the words onto the whiteboard. 

“His personality is split into that of his father, Charles, and Raphael,” Emily continues, and you can hear the frown in her voice. 

You’re about to say something when Garcia’s voice raises by an octave. 

“Oh God,” she squeaks, and you can hear the clicking of keys in the background. “Morgan? Emily, get the others, oh my God!”

“What’s going on?” You demand urgently, gripping the phone tighter. “Garcia, what’s going on?”

“It’s Spencer,” her voice is hushed and far from the speaker, and your heart sinks to your stomach.

“What happened? Penelope, what happened?”

“We have to go,” she says hurriedly, and the sound of footsteps from the rest of the team fill the speaker.

“No! Wait, don’t hang—“

The sound of the prolonged dial tone echoes in your ears and you resist the urge to scream. You press the pads of your fingers to your eyes, hot tears wetting your skin. Crying will get you nowhere and you know that. You know that Spencer is holding on. He’s relying on the BAU to save him. 

You gather all the available files on Charles Hankel, spreading them around the table. There’s not much to read; he’s lived a relatively quiet life. He was a farmer, his wife left him… dead end. Again. You’re at your wit’s end and you grab your keys. 

“John, want to work on a federal case?” You ask, shaking your keys. The younger policeman nods eagerly and you point to the door. “Great. Let’s go.”

It’s a small country town in Atlanta. Someone has to know something, especially if Tobias was a drug abuser. 

“We’re going to a few Narcotics Anonymous groups,” You explain to John who looks a little too excited to be sitting in a federal car. “Ask questions on Tobias Hankel and Charles Hankel. Someone has to know something.”

“All due respect, um, ma’am,” John stammers, and you raise an eyebrow amusedly. He coughs before continuing, “why aren’t you with the rest of the team?”

You falter, turning your attention back to the road. “They need me to work it from here. It doesn’t matter, anyway.”

Two miserable hours pass by with not much luck. Two hours that could have been used for something more meaningful than asking a bunch of drugged up assholes about the UnSub. Anxiety claws at your chest again as you flick through the answers. It’s nothing you didn’t already know. 

“I got something,” John says a little breathlessly, jogging back over to you. 

“Yes?” You need something. Anything. 

“A few sheep were stolen off of a farmer’s property,” he says, flipping through the notebook and reading off his scrawny handwriting. “Wasn’t Charles a farmer?”

“What does that have to do with–” You feel your mouth go dry and you turn to him. “Which farm?”

“Which– um…” He swallows. “Mcallister? Shawn Mcallister.”

In seconds you’re dialling Garcia again and she picks up with a trembling, “hello?”

“Is Spencer alive?” You ask firmly, slamming the car door. 

“Y-Yes. He’s– it’s not good, (Y/N),” she whimpers, clicking on the keyboard. “There was another murder. Spencer had to– he had to– he had to choose who to save. The UnSub fed a video to us, (Y/N), it’s horrible.”

There was another murder? John seizes up beside you and you grimace. You keep forgetting that John is practically a kid, barely twenty-one, and he hasn’t even seen the horrors of the world yet. 

“But he came back, right? To Spencer?” You ask, gripping the steering wheel tighter in an effort to keep yourself steady. “Penelope, Tobias posted a video of the latest murder, right? When was it posted?”

“9:23,” she says woefully, typing away.

“Okay, and…” you check the police radio, biting your lip nervously. “Okay, it says that the call for the murder came in at 9:04.”

There’s a little static in the background along with some shuffling before she responds. “Um… okay?”

“John, I need a map. Where’s– goddamn it– where’s the map of the area, John?!”

He fumbles, spreading the paper open. “Here!”

“That road– it’s 60 miles an hour, right? That means he needs to be–” you scribble across the map, frowning. “That’s within seventeen miles of the crime scene. There’s a farm, uh, poaching or something. Mcallister farm?”

“We’ll find something,” Penelope says quietly. “I’ll try find the farm area. He is going to be okay, I promise.”

You let out a heavy breath. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

*** 

The guilt alone is enough to kill him. Spencer knows that he is not at fault for this; Gideon said so. Regardless, he can’t get their faces out of his head. They were happy. What if they had kids? They were good people; they didn’t deserve to die the way they did. Spencer’s head pounds as he slumps against the chair, his breath quickening when he realises that Tobias is right there.

“Sorry, I had to leave for a while,” Tobias, the real Tobias, says quietly, strapping the belt to Spencer’s arm again.

He’s felt this so many times now. The high, and then the inevitable low. There’s no point fighting it, Spencer tries to justify, it’s biology. 

“You can leave again,” he says softly, “and you can take me with you.”

“My father would be angry,” Tobias says, drawing the liquid up the syringe.

“Not if he can’t find us.”

Tobias scoffs. “He always finds me.”

“If you tell me where we are, my friends will come and they’ll save us,” Spencer pleads, trying to look him in the eye.

“We can’t be saved,” he says dismissively, flicking the syringe. 

Spencer sniffles, and for a split second he feels the fear course through his veins. “We can. We can, I promise, if you tell me where we are I’ll save us both.”

“Listen to me. It’s not worth fighting.” Tobias pauses, readying the syringe. “Tell me it doesn't make it better.”

The silence that follows is humiliating. He hates the way that he isn’t fighting anymore but he can’t. It’s almost as if his body doesn’t even want to listen to him. Tobias doesn’t waste another moment and the familiar feeling of artificial ecstasy floods Spencer’s mind.

“Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

The phrase was so unfamiliar and Spencer’s brows furrowed as he looked at you. It has been a couple weeks since you were officially indoctrinated into the BAU and he couldn’t be any happier. It felt nice to talk to someone who was his age, especially because he never really knew anyone of his age back in Las Vegas. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. 

You laughed and his heart fluttered in his chest. He remembered the feeling distinctly; how could he forget? The feeling is still the same now.

“I mean… tell me something not a lot of people know about you. Like… okay, I’ll go first. Um… my favourite flowers are hydrangeas. The purple ones.” 

He committed that information to memory. Every year for your birthday he would buy you a new pot of hydrangeas for your apartment or something flower related like an automatic waterer or a replacement sun lamp. 

“Hydrangea macrophylla,” Spencer said slowly, his cheeks flushed. “It means… gratitude, grace, and beauty. It’s fitting.”

He relished in the way your eyes lit up and the way you smiled at him. “Okay, your turn. Tell me something I don’t know about you.”

“Um… my middle name is Walter?” He chuckled awkwardly, wetting his bottom lip. “No one really calls me that, though.”

You typed something on your computer, reading out loud, “The name Walter is Germanic in origin and means ‘commander of the army’.”

His cheeks burned in embarrassment and he nodded slowly. “Yeah.”

“I like it.” You grinned at him. “Walter.”

Spencer choked a little, the hairs on his neck standing on end and heat crawling up his cheeks. “You– you don’t have to call me that.”

“I won’t if you don’t like it,” you told him. 

“It’s not that I don’t like it,” he said quickly, his eyes widening. “I’m just not used to it.”

He remembers the way you beamed at him and the way he felt knowing that he made you happy. 

“Well then,” You began, meeting his gaze, “I guess that means I just have to call you that more often.”

Tobias’s yelling brings him back and all he can do is stare as he watches him slam on the keyboard angrily. A bright red pop up is flashing on his computer, and Tobias turns to Spencer with a murderous scowl. 

“They’re trying to silence my message.”

“I can’t control what they do,” Spencer defends tearfully, his voice wavering. “I’m not with them, I’m with you.”

Tobias scoffs again. “Really?”

He types something onto the keyboard and Gideon’s face show’s up on the screen. He’s leaning towards the camera, his words a mantra that Spencer repeats in his mind. 

“Reid,” the crackly audio sounds with Gideon’s voice, “if you’re watching, you’re not responsible for this, understand me? He’s perverting God to justify murder. You are stronger than him. He cannot break you.”

Tobias slams the computer off, walking back to him. “You think you can defy me?”

“I don’t know what he’s talking about–”

“You’re a liar!”

Spencer can only grimace in response, the words caught in his throat. Tobias must have been able to see something and the fear creeps into his heart again as the man lunges for his arm. Tobias forces Spencer’s sleeve up and the guilt crashes like waves. 

“You’re pitiful,” Tobias sneers, “Just like my son.”

Spencer wracks out a sob, silent pleas of mercy never leaving his lips. Maybe he does deserve this. Maybe, in some sick and twisted way, the universe is out to get him for all his shortcomings. Maybe, he thinks to himself as he watches Tobias turn the camera on, maybe he does deserve to die this way.

“This ends now,” Tobias snarls. “Confess your sins.”

“No,” he whimpers. 

Tobias’s fist collides with the side of Spencer’s face with a resounding slap. 

“Confess!”

“I haven’t done anything…”

His fist meets Spencer’s cheek again and all he can do is recoil in his chair.

“Tobias, help me,” he manages, but his plea is shut down almost instantly. 

“He can’t help you, he’s weak. Confess!” He hits him again and the pain is almost too much to bear. “Confess your sins.”

Spencer sobs. “No…”

In a fit of anger, Tobias throws Spencer to the ground. It hurts. Everything hurts as he feels the back of his head meet the cold musty ground. He can’t breathe. He feels like he’s underwater. Have to breathe, he needs to breathe, why can’t he breathe? He needs to see you again. He can’t die like this. He can’t, he can’t, he needs to breathe. He tries to take a breath of air but it’s like his mouth is full of water. And just when he thinks he reached the surface, he’s pulled under once again. 

Warmth. The feeling of his blood pumping to his ears is the first thing Spencer feels and his fingers twitch. He’s alive. There’s only one reason why that must have happened. 

“I was given CPR,” he rasps out, Tobias’s words swirling in his head. 

“There are no accidents,” Tobias says slowly. “How many members are in your team?”

Spencer can barely whisper the word. “Eight.”

“Seven, not including you. ‘The seven angels who had the seven trumpets prepared themselves to sound. The first sounding followed hail and they were thrown to Earth’.” He hoists Spencer’s chair upright, standing before him. “Tell me who you serve.”

“I serve you.”

“Then choose one to die.”

Spencer blanches, looking up at him. “What?”

“Your team members. Choose one to die.”

He doesn’t need to think when he responds, “kill me.”

Tobias jeers. “You said you weren’t one of them.”

“I lied.”

“Your team has seven other members. Tell me who dies.”

Spencer breathes in as if it were his last. “No.”

Tobias pulls out a revolver from his jacket pocket, spinning the cylinder before aiming it for Spencer’s head. “Choose, and prove you’ll do God’s will.”

“No.”

Tobias clicks the trigger and nothing happens so he repeats, “choose.”

“I won’t do it.”

The trigger clicks again and nothing happens. “Life is a choice.”

“No.” 

Spencer’s mind is racing. His first thought goes to you. He knows you would understand any and all references he throws in your direction, but it makes him sick just thinking about putting your life on the line. He needs something. He needs to think. 

“Choose.”

“I choose…” his voice stammers and he can barely see straight. “Aaron Hotchner.”

*** 

“We got him.”

The words echo in your mind as you pace up and down your hotel room, chewing on your destroyed nailbeds. It’s nearing two in the morning and you can’t sleep. The rest of the team are awake. Why should you be given the privilege of rest when none of them were able to? Why should you be given the privilege of rest when Spencer is out there fighting for his life? It’s not fair. Life isn’t fair.

When you hear the sirens outside you run out the door. Blood is pulsing in your ears and you’re still wearing the thin hotel slippers but it doesn’t matter. How could anything else matter? The car door clicks open and Emily helps Spencer out of the car. She whispers something to him and he looks in your direction. Those big hazel eyes stare at you with so much hurt and you can’t contain it anymore. 

“Spencer.”

His arms wrap around your waist, his nose pressing against your neck as he holds you, breathing in the smell of your vanilla perfume. He almost doesn’t believe you’re real. He pulls you impossibly closer, sniffling, and he can feel your fingers run through his hair. 

“You’re okay,” you whisper, trying to be reassuring, but he can hear the way your voice cracks. “You’re okay.”

“I should have listened to you,” He whimpers, feeling the cold wet rain soak through his shirt. “I should have– I’m so sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t be, Walter.”

The moment he hears that name spill from your lips he begins to cry. He’s okay. He’s with you now. You’re right here. 

“I thought–”

You shush him for the first and last time, squeezing his arms. “It’s okay. You’ll be okay.”

He wonders how a person could be so warm. Even in the cold Atlanta weather you’re still so warm. 

“Hotch wouldn’t let me work the case from the house,” you tell him quietly as you sit beside him on the bed. “Understandable. I screamed at him.”

He chuckles a little, flinching when you gently pull the bandage off the side of his face. He feels a lot better now that he’s clean, the shower more than necessary and he savours the feeling of warm water on his skin. The gash on his head is oozing sticky blood and you dispose of it accordingly, reaching into the first aid kit. 

“It’s gonna sting a little,” you tell him, pressing a damp cloth to the wound. 

He hisses at the contact, gripping your arm and he tries to change the subject. “Why did you scream at Hotch?”

You hum, continuing to clean the blood off his head. “I was mad at him.”

“It wasn’t his fault.”

“I know.”

You smile at him, applying a new bandage to his head. “It’s okay. I was able to help the case from here, anyway.”

“Stay with me,” he whispers, squeezing your hand. “Please?”

Your gaze softens. “Of course, Walter.”

He curls into your side, an arm wrapped around your middle and he breathes in the scent of your strawberry and honey shampoo. Your fingers curl in his hair, untangling the knots when your eyes flicker to your desk, the letter of resignation tucked inside your bag. He doesn’t need to know that. At least, not yet.

*** 

You knock at the door of Hotch’s office, chewing on your bottom lip. You remember being in this office for the first time four years ago when you were an intern; the way you shook with nerves and anticipation as you handed in your résumé for the honours program and then again when you were hoping to take the job full time. It’s ironic that you’re back at his office again, but for a very different reason. 

“Come in.”

The breath that leaves your lips is shaky and you take a seat in front of his desk. “Hotch.”

“(Y/N).”

You place the pristine white envelope onto the desk,watching the way his face shifts from stoic to surprised.

“You don’t have to do this,” He says, not touching the envelope. “The situation at hand was stressful. No one blames you for reacting the way you did.”

“It’s not just because of that,” you say slowly. “You were right. I was too involved.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” you say quickly, a humourless laugh slipping at your words. “I would have killed him.”

Hotch looks at you, his eyes meeting yours. “You wouldn’t have.”

“I would have,” you say surely. “After what he did to Spencer, if I had found him I would have killed him. And I would have– I would have slept well. I love this team, Hotch, but I can’t separate those feelings when I’m on the field no matter how hard I try.”

He’s quiet for a moment before nodding, rising from his seat. “I’m assuming it’s a two-week’s notice?”

You nod, also getting up from your chair. “Yeah. I– I don’t want to just leave, you know?”

“We’re going to miss you,” he says, walking with you to the door, “but this will be good for you.”

“I know.” You can feel the stares of the rest of the team through the glass and you can’t help but smile. “They’re horrible at being nonchalant.”

“They’re profilers,” Aaron chuckles. “Can you blame them?”

“I guess not,” you muse, pulling the door open. “Thank you, Aaron.”

“You always have a place here, (Y/N),” he says gently as you walk back down to the bullpen. 

It doesn’t take long before the overflowing dam of questions burst and in moments Emily is crossing the room and sitting next to you. 

“You’re leaving the BAU?”

You look at her with wide eyes before laughing a little. “You… are very good at your job, huh?”

“Oh…” Penelope tackles you in a hug, her arms tight around your frame. “We’re going to miss you.”

JJ sniffles a little, joining the hug. “Don’t forget us.”

“As if I ever could.” A bittersweet smile rests on your lips. 

Derek hugs you as well, his chin on the top of your head. “Look after yourself, kid. We’ll make these last two weeks the best you’ve ever had.”

“If you ever need anything…” Emily begins slowly, squeezing your hands. “I’m here, okay?”

Gideon pats your shoulder lightly, a sad smile on his face. “You’re a good person. Never forget that.”

You nod, trying to blink away the tears that fill your eyes. “I know. Thanks, you guys.”

The opening and shutting of the BAU doors brings you out of your thoughts and the familiar head of brown hair stalking away makes your face fall. Gideon meets your gaze, gesturing towards the door. That’s all you need to run out of the bullpen. 

“Spencer– Spencer, wait, please.” You tug on his arm desperately. “Please–”

“What do you mean you’re leaving?” He asks, his voice cracking. It has only been a few days since the incident and he looks a little better. The scratches on his face are still visible, but they’re fading slowly. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I–” you falter, flinching at the pain and hostility in his voice. “It was never a good time.”

He scoffs quietly, rubbing at his arm. “You should have told me.”

“I couldn’t just randomly tell you,” you say, frowning. “How would that be fair?”

Spencer rubs his eyes, the dark bags beneath them even more prominent. “Why are you leaving?”

“I have to,” you say gently, resting a hand on his shoulder. “I love this job but I can’t do it anymore–”

“Why not?!”

“Because–!” You exhale, trying to calm yourself down. “Because I swore an oath when I took this job that I will put this country above myself. And I can do that. I would die for this country to protect the people in it, I will hunt down the people who make this country so unsafe and I will sacrifice myself willingly, but you? I can’t– I can’t lose you. If I had to choose between catching the UnSub and saving you, I would save you in a heartbeat. Even if that meant letting a bad guy go. Even if that meant more people would get hurt I would still choose you and I can’t let that happen.”

Your words deem him speechless and he shifts his weight on his feet. For a moment, all he can do is stare at you as your reasoning sinks in. It makes sense. He hates that it makes sense. 

“So that’s it?” He asks quietly, finally looking you in the eye. “You’re actually leaving?”

“Not for another two weeks,” you tell him truthfully. “Besides, you can still text me. And call me. You know where I live so you can always visit.”

He bites the inside of his cheek anxiously, teetering on his feet before hugging you tightly, burying his nose into your hair. “I’m going to miss you so much.”

“I’m going to miss you too.”

His grip is tight around you and if you paid attention you could feel him tremble. “I can’t do this job without you.”

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. “You can, Walter. You’re stronger than you think you are.”

There are so many things he wishes he could tell you. You’re right here. He doesn’t have to yearn for your touch anymore because you’re right here in his arms. He wants to tell you so many things. Like how he adores the colour of your eyes, or the way you smile, or the way your hair falls. He wants to tell you how much he likes spending time with you and how he feels so good with you but he can’t. The words are at the tip of his tongue so how can he not say anything?

“I–” love you– “I’m really going to miss you.”

“Me too,” you whisper. “Me too.”

← previous part || next part →

full work

reblogs are always appreciated!

[finniestoncrane]

ILL DO YOU ONE BETTER,,, cooper fic where he's napping,,, WITH DOGMEAT

Companion

Cooper Howard, word count: 600 please my fuckin heart and soul!! man i love introspective things, i love dogs, i love horrible men who can be soft sometimes, i love horrible men who love animals ;-; 🤎 request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: lil bit of angst but mostly some fluff!

Finally off of their feet for the day, Cooper let out a deep, long sigh. The cool night air was a welcome change from the desert heat they had travelled through, but it was still stifling, choking him. Smothering. Suffocating. Trying to give himself some breathing room, he kicked his leg out to the side, scraping it along the dust, trying to kick up a barrier between him and his new companion.

“Get, boy.”

It wasn’t just the air, no longer sweltering but still somehow thick. It was the presence of someone with him, along for the ride. It had been so long since he’d had someone with him, longer still since that someone had actually wanted to be with him.

And despite trying his hardest to push him away, the dog he had decided to bring along with him was determined to offer itself to Cooper. Like it sensed something in him that he might have been aware of, but wasn’t willing to accept.

So there he sat in the dark, lit only by the slowly dying fire, trying his best to shrug off the affectionate advances of the dog by his side.

“You ain’t him, boy.”

Cooper leaned back in the rusted garden chair by the fire, watching the flames dance as he took one last swig from his canteen in the hopes that the bitter liquid inside would help him fall into an easier sleep.

As he sat he considered the strange, tethered feeling, familiar as it was, of having someone look to him for companionship. He was so hyper aware of all the years that had gone by. Decades, turning into centuries before his eyes. Whether he was blinking in the sun or trying to find anything in the darkness from his coffin underground. Everything that had passed by, everything he’d seen that he never thought he would, that he hoped he never would. The people who came and went, those like him, those not.

Loyal pets. One loyal pet.

He couldn’t add another to the list. Who knew how long he’d be around. Who knew how long he could stave off the feral nature that was bubbling inside of him. A wild beast in a cage whose iron bars were wearing thinner each passing day.

What if he hurt them? Turned before he could take himself away from them? Refused to let him go?

What if they hurt him? Like so many others had.

How many of them had come and gone? In two hundred years, how many people had passed through his life, willingly or unwillingly. It would never get easier, at least it hadn’t yet. But the way that the paw settled on his leg, a knowing whine as the dog pushed him to take the comfort, he considered how much difference it would really make for him to take a risk again.

He slid onto the ground, his body relaxing onto the thin bedroll. And when the warm body of his new companion settled down in front of him, he didn’t push away. He placed a hand into the fur, accepting the warmth, the comfort. Something he still needed even after all this time.

Cooper’s eyes sparkled in the reflection of the flames, wet with a bittersweet sadness that overcame him. Of everyone he missed, there was something unique about the loyal bond of a man and his dog. And Dogmeat reminded him of what he had lost, but what he might gain from softening just a little.

“No… you ain’t him, Dogmeat. But I appreciate it all the same.”

[sunsetsandsunshine]

~ Some Father-son bonding ~

(A/N: I LOVE THIS ITERATION OF SONIC SM- ESPECIALLY HOW THE WRITERS WROTE THE RELATIONSHIP BETWEEM HIM AND TOM FOR THE FIRST AND SECOND FILM. I- SOBSSSS. I LOVE THESE TWO SM SO U KNOW I NEEDED TO MAKE A FIC ABT THEM 💞💕💖💗😭!!!)

Lee: Sonic🦔💙

Ler: Tom🍩🤎

Warnings: A little bit of angst in the beginning, harmful stimming (I’ll tag where it starts and ends) and tickling. If you are uncomfortable with any of the following please feel free to keep scrolling down :)

Summary: It’s been a couple months since the epic battle between Sonic and Eggman. The electric blue hedgehog could finally relax…right? Well…yes and no. Sonic has been living with the Wachowski’s for those couple months and it’s been great! But…he keeps feeling weird. His stomach gets fluttery and he can’t stop laughing for hours at a time…it's…really weird. Maybe he should talk to someone about this…

(A/N: Parent and child relationship. Nothing more. Nothing less. It sickens me that I have to put that in there (bc it should be obvious) but you can never be too sure…I just needed to make it clear that they love each other as family.)

——————————————————————————————————

Sonic was sitting up on his beanbag and playing with the rubix cube Maddie gave him about a week ago. He was dressed in a sweatshirt, a gift from Tom that was like 3 times his own size, going almost to his knees and blue fuzzy socks. He groaned as he finished solving the cube again for probably the 12th time now. Speaking of which, you’re probably wondering where he got the rubix cube from…and before you ask, no he did not steal it. It was quite the opposite actually.

Maddie noticed that Sonic was very fidgety at times and often pulled at his quills when he was nervous about something, or completely bored. So she decided to go shopping and buy the blue hedgehog some fidget toys. And by “some”, Sonic means like about 60-70 at least…he hasn’t counted but by the looks on how freaking heavy the box was when she gifted it to him, his estimation probably wasn’t that far off. 

Sonic groaned again, dropping the rubix cube he had in his hands and placed it on his desk, making sure to put it down delicately so he didn’t accidentally dent it; out of all of the fidget toys this one was Sonic’s favorite and he didn’t want it getting ruined under any circumstances. The hedgehog flopped on his beanbag, looking up at the ceiling and putting his pillow to his face before abruptly groaning loudly for like the 100th time, but at least now it was muffled by the pillow. 

Sonic wanted something but he didn’t know what…and this feeling was starting to get on his nerves.

Well- no- scratch that. He did- he did know what he wanted. But there’s no way in all of Green Hills he was gonna tell anyone about it.

There- there was this feeling in his stomach, but he didn’t know what the literal hell it was, and it’s been eating him from the inside since he’s come to Green Hills. His stomach felt fluttery, almost as if there were butterflies instead of intestines- but not in a bad way! In a very weird, confusing, nice way? If that makes sense? And another thing, he can't seem to stop giggling to himself. Which is odd. Because he didn’t even hear a joke or anything! He was just…giggling. Like what? But most importantly, he was craving physical affection apparently??? Ugh. See why he wasn’t gonna tell anyone about this feeling? Or…whatever this was?

Sonic looked at his phone- not far from where he was lying down on his beanbag. He remembers Maddie saying every time she left before work in the morning that if he needed anything, to text or call her…

This is probably what she meant. 

But he didn’t want to bother her. Sonic knew how important Maddie’s job was and he didn’t want to make it more stressful. Besides, what was she supposed to say to her coe-working people if Sonic called or texted? Oh! Sorry! The over-sized hedgehog I have living in my house wants to talk about this weird feeling he’s feeling! Hm? Oh, what feeling you ask? He doesn’t quite know exactly! 

Yeah. Thanks but no thanks. Sonic could handle this weird feeling on his own. Yep. He could totally handle this weird new feeling by himself. Uh-huh. He’s got this.

…

Maddie…Maddie wouldn’t mind…right?

…

Oh fuck it.

Sonic grabbed his phone and unlocked it, immediately going through his contacts to find Maddie- which wasn't hard. He only had two contacts: her and Tom.

✨💖The Magnificent Marvelous Maddie💖✨

Today at 1:38 p.m. 

Hey Maddie

If uh

If you’re not busy…can I ask you a question?

Sonic turned his phone off and put it next to him and after a couple seconds of waiting the blue hedgehog immediately regretted sending those three texts to Maddie. She’s probably busy anyway. Sonic could figure out this feeling by himself-

PING!

Sonic almost jumped out of his seat at the sudden loud sound coming from his phone. He really needs to figure out how to turn that sound down…he can feel it still ringing in his ears. He turned on his phone to see a text notification- 3 actually- from the one and only Maddie Wachowski…

Well that was fast. 

Hi, sweetie! 

And of course you can ask me a question ☺️!

What’s on your mind, honey? 

Sonic exhaled the breath he didn’t even notice he was holding in, unlocking his phone and going into messages to properly text her.

I’ve been…

I’ve been feeling weird lately- and idk why 

Ever since I’ve come to Green Hills to stay w/ u guys I’ve felt this way…and idk what it is and it’s been pissing me off lately.

So I was hoping…maybe you could help me figure out what it is?

Of course!

Could you maybe try to describe it? 

The thing is idk how to! 

I just- my stomach feels all fluttery 

Not in a bad way tho! Not like a roller-coaster fluttery or about-to-go-on-stage-and-sing-in-front-of-millions-upon-millions-of-people fluttery 

But like- a good fluttery I guess??? I just feel rlly giggly and stuff and it’s weird- but weird in a good way…

…

That doesn’t make any sense, does it?

No no! I think I understand, sweetie

And I think I can help 😊

WAIT- HUH???

YOU CAN???

Well, not me exactly

As of I’m not home right now 

But I’m sure Tom can help!

Wait what-?

How can Tom help w/ this I’m so confused 😭😭😭

Trust me 

In the past, I’ve had the feeling you’re feeling right now and Tom is the best person to help with it- so just tell him what you told me!

Uh…alright!

I guess I could do that 

Thanks Maddie 

It’s no problem, Sonic sweetie 😊

Okay, thanks again- I’m gonna go talk to him now

Bye!

Okay bye! Love you 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰❤️❤️❤️❤️☺️☺️☺️

Love you too 😗❤️

Sonic got up from his beanbag chair, put his phone inside of the desk and opened the hatch downstairs. Sonic quietly tiptoed down the stairs, making sure to dodge the places in the steps that he knew squeaked if he stepped too hard, peeking over the stairway to see Tom watching TV- and from the looks of it it looked like some sheriff documentary- he’s been watching those a lot lately…but Sonic doesn’t understand the hype. The sheriff’s on the TV could be talking about some random paint splatter on the ground and Tom would be hooked. 

“I can hear you trying to be quiet up there, Sonic.” Tom chuckled, still facing the TV as he went to grab the remote on the armrest and pause the TV. The brunette turned to Sonic with a “hah! Caught ya” grin, a grin Sonic knew all too well in his last months of living with him.

 The hedgehog sighed in defeat of being caught, walking down the stairs and going next to the couch Tom was sitting at. The brunette had a grey/gray shirt on with a light plaid print jacket, matching with some black pants and white socks. 

“Uh…’sup, Tom.” Sonic said as casually as he could before leaning on the couches’ arm rest. The brunette eyed Sonic suspiciously, raising one eyebrow as he crossed his arms. Sonic started to sweat under the older man’s glare, whistling and looking anywhere but Tom’s direction. 

“What did you do, Sonic?” Tom sighed, taking the blue hedgehogs’ sudden nervousness as a sign of him doing something he wasn’t supposed to. “I didn't do anything!” Sonic said, mimicking Tom’s expression and pose. The two looked at each other in the pose for a solid minute or two before laughing at their silliness.

“So what do you need, little man?” Tom asked. Sonic cleared his throat, fiddling with his hands and began looking at his feet because honestly? Staring at the ground was much much more easier than looking at Tom at the moment. “I just…I figured we could- y’know- hang out I guess?” The blue hedgehog started, “Some uhm…y’know some father-son bonding activities…?” Sonic said sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck, still looking down on the ground. 

There was an uncomfortable silence between the two and Sonic didn't like it. He didn't like it one bit. And the more the silence dragged on the more the blue hedgehog started to second guess himself about coming down to the living room. 

Pfft, “Father-son bonding?” He really has reached a whole new level of patheticness, huh? Why would Tom want to spend time with him? He’s just keeping him around because he pity’s him. He doesn’t actually enjoy his company. Just wait until Tom gets tired of him, then he’ll be all alone again-

Oh this was a mistake.

This was such SUCH a mistake. 

***Harmful stimming starts***

The hedgehog started lightly pulling on his quills out of nervousness with one hand while his other hand started tapping the side of his leg, “O-Or whatever. If- If you want to of course. I don’t want it to seem like you're being forced, hah!” Sonic said, letting out the best fake laugh he could muster before speaking again. “I-If you’re busy- y’know….with, uhh, you’re sheriff stuff…that’s fine as well. I don’t- I don’t care.” Sonic started slowly backing away from Tom, still pulling on his quills- but a tad bit harder this time as his hand tapping on his leg started increasing faster. 

Sonic could hear faint talking in front of him but he couldn’t focus on it. The only thing he needed to focus on was leaving before he embarrassed himself more. “Y’know what? I-I should go, you’re probably doing something busy anyway, uh…lemme get out of your hair, man.” Sonic grimaced, turning away and going to the steps, but before he could walk any farther Tom grabbed both his hands gently. 

***Harmful stimming stops***

“Hey…let’s not do that, okay? You’re hurting yourself….” Tom said softly, holding Sonic’s hands in his own as he kneeled down to try and match Sonic’s height. “Where are your fidget toys?” Tom gently asked, trying his best to keep the questions short and sweet to not overwhelm the younger. These types of moments have happened before in the Wachowski’s house; when Sonic started to panic, asking him too many questions would get him even more upset, so when this happened they kept the questions to a minimum and straight to the point. “I…I left them upstairs…” Sonic mumbled. 

“Oh. That’s okay…uh…here. Sit down on the couch for a sec.” The brunette said as he picked up Sonic and sat him on the couch. Rubbing his head affectionately before walking away to the kitchen rummaging through the kitchen shelves before coming out with a blue squishy ball. He came back to Sonic who gratefully accepted the ball. Tom sat next to Sonic as the younger leaned onto his shoulder, taking another deep breath and exhaling, muscles once tense now relaxed. 

“Sorry about that…” Sonic said, squeezing the stress ball harder and glaring at it as if it stole his last chili dogs. Well this wasn’t how he was planning this conversation with Tom to go. The older looked at Sonic sadly before sighing and turning his gaze looking straight ahead to the paused TV. “You don’t have anything to apologize for, kid. It’s alright.” Tom said. The blue hedgehog hummed at the comic, taking a couple more deep breathers.

There was that uncomfortable silence again, the one that Sonic despised. “I just…I dunno. I feel weird…?” Sonic said, squeezing his squishy fidget ball at a faster pace this time. The older didn't say anything but completely turned to Sonic, letting him know he was listening. The younger somewhat shrunk under the older mans’ look, feeling a tad bit pressure to go on but decided to ignore it. He wanted- no. He needed to get this off of his chest. 

“Ever since I’ve come to stay with you and Maddie after the defeat of Dr. Robotnik, I’ve felt…odd. I feel tingly, and fluttery and it’s just…weird, because I’ve never felt like this before, ever. I talked to Maddie about it in text and she said to talk to you about it…so uh…here I am!” Sonic sheepishly said.

Tom chuckled, “Is that why you said you wanted some Father-son bonding?” The blue hedgehog blushes at the mention, nodding his head. The older one chuckled once again, rubbing Sonic’s head affectionately, “I’d be happy to help you with this fluttery-feeling, buddy!” The blue hedgehog quickly looked at Tom as his ears went up in surprise.  

“Wait. Really?” Sonic asked. “Of course! But before I do, I gotta ask you a question…” Tom said waiting a dramatically long time before continuing his sentence. “Are you ticklish?” The older asked, smirking and raising an eyebrow up. There was a silence between the two, but only this time this one was in complete and utter confusion. The younger ones' eyebrows creased together trying to put together what he was just asked, “Um…gesundheit?” 

“What? No, kid.Tickling. Y'know, being ticklish?” Tom said as he wiggled his fingers near Sonic’s face only to be met by a confused look. “I dunno what you are talking about, man…” Sonic chuckled, now relaxing in the hug as he chuckled at the older mans’ surprised face.

Tom’s dumbfounded expression slowly turned to a soft, genuine smile, then it slowly turned into an evil grin. This kid had no idea what tickling is!

…

This kid had no idea what tickling is…

Oh Tom is gonna change that very quickly.

“Uh…Tom? You okay over there? Your face kinda looks like that green person we watched on Christmas…” Sonic said, wincing at the memory of the man’s genuine expression slowly slowly turning into an evil one. Tom stopped with his evil grin (for now at least), and raised his left eyebrow in amusement. “You mean The Grinch?” He asked, laughing when the blue hedgehog nodded happily at the familiar name. “Yeah, yeah! That dude!” Sonic smiled.  

“I need you to stay perfectly still for this to work though, okay?” Tom said in the best serious voice he could muster, but probably not as serious as he thought since right after he stopped talking Sonic started laughing a bit. “Pfft, whatever you say, Donut Lord.” Sonic snickered, hopping into Tom’s lap facing sideways.

Tom then began to lightly scratch along Sonic’s sides, the reaction was almost immediate as the blue hedgehog began to squirm lightly and grab at the brunette’s wrists; but not pushing them away. Sonic held his breath; trying not to laugh but that plan started to crumble as Tom began to poke at the youngers’ sides; more quickly than he was before. Sonic let out a tiny shriek before descending into little giggles, kicking his legs and shaking his head. Tom smiled at the adorable sight.

“Whahat? Hehey-! Hehey wahahait! Whahat ahahare yohou dohoing?” Sonic asked while becoming a giggly squirmy mess. Tom chuckled at the youngers’ question, making sure to go easy on him since this was his first time being tickled, so he’d start off with light tickles…for now at least. 

“I’m tickling you, silly! Since it does seem to me that you happen to be a bit ticklish~!” Tom cooed, now using two hands to tase around Sonic’s sides. Sonic threw his head back, suddenly lost in a puddle of giggles and fell on the couch, but still in Tom’s grasp as the brunette tickled up and down his sides. “Whahat ahare you tahahalking about?” Sonic giggly asked, his legs lightly stomped on the couch as some pillows fell in the process. 

“Hmm, hold on…” Tom said as he grabbed his phone from his jacket pocket, typing up something but making sure to keep the blue hedgehog in a giggly squirmy mess. “Ah, okay. Goggle states this: Tickling is the act of touching a part of a body in a way that causes involuntary-“ “Ihihi dohohon’t knohow whahat thahat meeheeans!” Sonic whined interrupting Tom, shaking his head back and forth giggling up a storm in the older mans’ lap. “You didnt even let me finish!” Tom laughed, moving one hand to tickle Sonic’s neck while the other still tickled his side. 

“PFFT- nAhAHAH! GeHEt ohOUT ohohOHOF theHEhehere!” Sonic giggly demanded, still holding Tom’s wrist as he scrunched up his shoulders. The older man chuckled before digging both of his hands in both sides of the blue hedgehog’s neck, fingers fluttering up, down, left, and right. Sonic’s feet drummed on the couch, trying to make a daring escape but anytime he was even a bit close to leaving, Tom would poke Sonic’s sides, leaving the blue hedgehog to be an adorable giggly mess. “Stahay still!” Tom playfully scolded. 

“THIhihIHIs ihihis soHO weeheeird!” The hedgehog giggled, his face beginning to turn a light red. And honestly, if Tom could start crying, he would- out of happiness of course. This was to fucking darn cute. 

“How many ribs do you think you have, Sonic?” Tom asked as he held both of Sonic’s arms up against the couch, trying his best to compose himself from not crying from the younger ones’ adorable reactions to the pokes. “Mahaddie sahahaid weehee hahave twehenty-fohour; twehehelve ohon eeheeach sihihide!” Sonic giggly answered, as he remembered Maddie did a walk-through on the human body and how many bones it has. 

“Hm…you sure? Maybe I should count them for you…” Tom didn’t even spare the giggly blue hedgehog a second to protest as he pressed his thumb into the lowest rib on the right side of Sonic’s ribcage, kneading and circling at a very very slow pace against the artificial bone. Sonic screeched at the sudden sensation against his ribs, kicking his legs a bit faster as Tom slowly slowly slowly began to “count his ribs”.

“One…two…three…” Tom counted aloud, remaining on a rib for about 5 seconds before moving up to a different one. Sonic lurched in Tom’s lap, attempting to pry himself out by pushing at Tom’s wrists but only caused the older to pin up his arms and continue kneading at his ribs. “NahAHA! WahahHAHAIT, plehHEHEase!” Sonic whined throughout his frantic cries of laughter. “Ihi sahAHAId iHi hahaHAVE tweHEHEnty foHOUR!” 

“I'm just double checking!” Tom innocently said as if he wasn’t completely wrecking the boy in his lap at the moment. The blue hedgehog squirmed and squealed at the tickly feeling at his ribs, being unable to do anything but just take it. This went on for a couple more numbers but then Tom suddenly stopped “counting” Sonic’s ribs, giving the kid another breather before hatching another evil plan. “Wait, what number was I on, Sonic?” 

“Tohohom! Yohou lihihiterally ohonly counted toohoo sihihix-!” 

“Oh, well. I lost count! Guess I have to start all over again~! 

Sonic froze in place, laughter now raising an octave as he helplessly squirmed in Tom’s grasp. “WahAHaH- waHahaHAIT *snort* nOHo dahHa- *snort* dohOHOHOn’t!” Sonic snorted, descending into a puddle of maddening cackles feeling the fluttery feeling again. So this was the feeling he was feeling…? He’d have to ask Tom later, when he’s not getting tickled to pieces. 

“Awh~! That’s so cute~! You snort when you laugh?” Tom cooed, wiggling his fingers near the blue hedgehog's ribs but very very close to touching him. Sonic’s laughter became more frantic and loud, squirming underneath Tom, and it's not like he could defend himself either! His arms were pinned up! This entire situation just screamed “unfair”. “NahaHAO! IHI *snort* doHOHon’t!” Sonic giggly said, knowing that- yes. Yes he did snort when he laughed, he did just a couple seconds ago…but no way in all of Green Hills he was gonna admit it, especially in this situation. 

“Oho really? What was that adorable noise you made just then, hmm?” Tom smugly asked. “YohOu’re heehEEARihing thihIHIngs…” Tom fondly rolled his eyes as he pinched and kneaded Sonic’s ribs, leaving absolutely no bone left out from his tickle torture. Sonic threw his head back and cackled like a madman, snorting every now and again as he squirmed like a worm, trying to stop the ticklish sensation at his ribs. 

“NAHAHAO! DAHAHAD *snort* PLEHEASE!” Sonic cried. Tom’s eyes widened at the name title the younger gave, not sure if the blue hedgehog meant to say it, but was very honored and happy at the mention. It made his heart melt. “Please what, Sonic? Pleaseeeeee keep tickling you?” Tom smugly teased, grin widening as he saw Sonic’s face heat up in embarrassment. Guess he’s weak to the T-word, huh? Oho I can and will use that to my advantage… 

“DAHAHA- *snort* OHOHO MY GOHOD! STAHAHAP SAHAHAYING THAHAT!” Sonic yelled as he shook his head back and forth. “Stop saying what, exactly? Tickle~? Ticklish~? Tickled~? Or do you want me to simply stop talking? Which one?” Tom laughed. “YEHEHES!” Sonic cried, not even completely knowing what he just said ‘yes’ to- he was too lost in his own laughter. Tom stopped tickling Sonic, letting him have one last breather before the final kill.   

“Ever heard of raspberries, Sonic?” Tom asked, knowing that he the blu hedgehog has, but probably not the ones he’s talking about. “Lihihike thehe fruhuhuit?” Sonic giggly asked. “Nope! Here, lemme show you…” Tom said as he blew a raspberry on the youngers’ tummy causing him to absolutely howl in laughter. 

“OHO MY *snort* GAAAHAHAD WAHAHAIT! WAHAHAIT!” Sonic screamed, completely not prepared for this new tickly feeling on his stomach…and why did it sound so freaking funny??? That was just gonna make him laugh more! “Wait for what Sonic~?” Tom teased as he blew more raspberries on his tummy, and with his free and scribbling up and down Sonic’s ribs. 

“WAHAHAIT- *snort* IHI *snort* DOHON’T DOOHOO THAHAHAT!” Sonic cried, blue sparks suddenly forming on the kids’ quills, sparkling here and there but some going off of his quills and onto the carpet floor, disappearing. Sonic cackled in the older Tom’s lap, the blue lightning on his quills adding a new ticklish sensation on him.

“Huh. Well they do say you learn new things everyday…” Tom mumbled, watching some of the lighting sparks fall off of the younger ones quills. “PLEHEHEASE! IHIT’S *snort* TIHIHICKLISH!” Sonic screamed, more tiny little blue sparks flying off of his quills and onto the floor. Tom chuckled at the little blue hedgehogs’ reactions, moving down to Sonic’s lower belly as he began to lightly flutter his fingers around it. 

“I think you mean ‘it tickles’, bud.” Tom said into Sonic’s tummy, chuckling. Tom was the sheriff of Green Hills- not the sheriff of grammar; at least last time Sonic checked. Tom began to blow more raspberries all over the little blue hedgehog’s stomach, making sure to add a few nibbles now and again to keep the younger in stitches- which worked out really well on Tom’s part. Sonic’s laughter became more high pitched and loud, snorting more frequently as the older started to raspberry and nibble his stomach.

“OHOHO MY GOHOD *snort* WHATEVER!” Sonic screamed as Tom began to switch between his lips and teeth nibbling mercilessly at Sonic’s tummy leaving the poor blue hedgehog in absolute hysterics. 

Tom dug his fingers in the blue hedgehogs underarms.And Sonic screamed. The hedgehog's feet were kicking probably about a million miles per hour, just looking like a complete and utter blur while the blue sparks on Sonic’s quills multiplied. 

“So~! I think I found your most ticklish spot, huh~?” Tom chuckled, lightly scratching his fingers in Sonic’s underarms, making sure to dodge the little sparks of blue lightning coming off of Sonic’s quills- which  he knew tickled the younger even more due to how much he was laughing. Sonic screamed underneath the brunette’s grasp, trying his best to not kick him in the face but the task being very very hard as his feet were kicking around a million miles per hour. 

“NOHOHO- *snort* DAHAHAH! DOHOHON’T!” Sonic howled, shaking his head back and forth while the heels of his feet dug into the couch. Tom, chuckled, now scribbling and scratching in Sonic’s underarms, “I’m barely even touching you!” Tom laughed, almost as hard as Sonic as he began to pick up the pace with his scribbling. 

“STAHAHA! *snort* NAHAHA- *snort* PLEHEHEA- *snort* DAHAHAHAD!” Sonic screamed, as happy tears started forming in his eyes which Tom took as a sign that Sonic has enough tickles for today. “Alright, alright! Just say Uncle.” Tom calmly said as if Sonic wasn’t screaming his head off. “WHAHA- *snort* WHAHAT?!

“Juhust say Uncle, kiddo-“ Tom said as he accidentally hit a very ticklish spot in Sonic’s underarm causing the younger to let out a girl-like squeal. 

“OKAHAHAY! OKAHAHAY! UHUHUNCLE!” 

Tom stopped tickling Sonic; letting the kid have a breather and putting him into a tight embrace. The blue hedgehog giggled softly in the hug as he melted into the touch. “You okay?” Tom chuckled, smirking at the younger who was still giggling from the tickles from before. Sonic nodded, wiping away his happy tears with his hand still giggling a bit. “So~, I’m Dad now, huh? What happened to being ‘too cool for your human parental names’?” Sonic blushed, pulling up his hoodie and sinking deeper into Tom’s chest. “Shuhut ihit….” 

“I really don’t mind you calling me Dad, bud.” Tom smiled. “Wahait whahat…? Reheally?” Sonic asked in genuine confusion looking up at the older with shiny eyes- Tom swore Sonic’s pupils had stars in them at that moment. “Yeah, I don’t mind.” Tom confirmed, patting Sonic’s back. Sonic’s eyes glistened a bit but the younger one soon wiped them. “Cool…” 

“So…that's called tickling?” The blue hedgehog asked. 

“Mhm.”

“So…you tickled me?”

“Yep.” 

“Huh.” Sonic said, not being able to say anything more than that. “How’s that fluttery feeling in your stomach doing?” Tom asked. “Fine, it's doing just fine.” Sonic smiled as Tom smiled back, rubbing his head affectionately and chuckling. 

“Let's go grab you some water, kiddo. And how about we make some cupcakes after that-“ Tom wasn’t even able to finish his sentence as the blue hedgehog excitedly ran to the kitchen chugging a glass of water and putting out ingredients to make the cupcakes. Tom chuckled, walking over to Sonic to join him. 

Tom definitely had to make a note to tell Maddie about his later, but as of right now he was going to bake some cupcakes with his son. And if they burn down the house in the process, oh well…they both can try coming up with a good excuse to tell Maddie as to why the house is in ashes. 

——————————————————————————————————

RAAAAAAH THROWS THIS FATHER-SON SHIT AT U 💖💞💞💞💗✨✨

I LOVE THESE TWO GOOFBALLS SMMMMMM THEY MEAN SM TO MEEEEEE😭😭😭💙🤎. But anyway, hope you all enjoyed it!!! I do have a couple more WIP fics on the way that r almost finished and a gift fic for someone as well which is ALSO almost done so be sure to look out for those :)

❗️❗️❗️ALSO DON'T FORGET TO DRINK WATER. ITS FLAVOURLESS BUT ITS GOOD FOR U SO DRINK IT PLZ❗️❗️❗️

[lieslab]

Time, Love, Effort, and Cooties

Summary: Seungmin comes home after a day full of self doubt and it’s up to you to make him feel better. 

Word Count: 1k

Genre: Fluff & a bit of comfort/hurt 

Read the last post: 🤎

_ _ _ 

Getting off of work early, you quickly changed out of your work clothes and headed towards the kitchen. Your boyfriend was going to be home soon and you wanted to surprise him with dinner. He had been working his ass off with the new comeback. It was the least that you could do for him. 

Deciding on his favorite meal, you grabbed the ingredients, and started to create the dish. Wanting to make sure everything was perfect, you even texted Chan before you started and asked him if he could ask Seungmin what his favorite food was. You were thrilled when he responded with the dish that you were planning on making. 

So you spent nearly an hour crafting everything perfectly. Chopping, cooking, and seasoning everything to as much perfection as you could. Right as you grabbed dishes out of the cupboard to set the table, the front door opened. 

You quickly set the table and began digging silverware out of the kitchen drawers. It didn’t take long before footsteps headed towards the kitchen. Seungmin leaned up against the entryway. “What are you doing?” 

You shot him a smile and gestured back towards the stove. “I thought I’d go ahead and make your favorite dinner. I know I’ve been working a lot and you’ve been working a lot. It’s Friday and my boss let everyone go home earlier. I thought that I could do something special since you’re working so hard.” 

“Oh.” His gaze looked down towards the floor. 

“Oh?” You responded back with a tilted head. “Is something wrong?” 

“Why are you with me?” The words blurted out of his mouth so quickly, you didn’t have time to respond before he continued. “There are so many people out there in the world. You deserve someone who is there all the time. Someone who can devote all their time and energy into you. Someone who’s talented and so-” 

You held up your hands to cut him off. “Woah, woah, woah! What are you talking about? I know that you’re surely not talking about my boyfriend like that.”

“But you could have anyone, so why me?” 

“I’m with you because I love you.” 

“But why?” 

You looked at your boyfriend in shock. This was completely unlike him. Sure, the two of you had bad days before, but nothing like this. This was completely different. 

“I’m not that attractive. My singing isn’t that great. I’m constantly at work, so I don’t have enough time to give you the love you deserve. You deserve someone who can be by your side 24/7. I can’t give that to you, so why do you stay?” 

“I stay because I fell in love with you. I love your personality. Your brutal honesty and your humor. I love the way you make bad jokes and, even though I pretend to be annoyed, I love it when you tease me. I know you’re joking and you just do it to get a rise out of me.” 

“Your singing is amazing,” you continued. “I’m not always constantly available either. I’m okay with seeing you when you have time. After all, this is your life. I’ll still love you even if I only get text messages from you in a day and can’t see you. I’ll always love you.” 

He clenched his jaw and blinked back tears. The sight of it caused your heart to break. Your boyfriend, who rarely showed you this side of him, was still trying to fight it. You had constantly reminded him that he could be vulnerable around you. You’d never judge or belittle him for something like that. 

Your arms opened wide as you quickly went over and embraced him in your arms. You squeezed him tightly, pinning his arms to his sides, and rubbed his back. “What’s going on?” You whispered. “You’re never like this. Did something happen today?” 

“I kept screwing up during our recording session. I couldn’t hit the notes and I’m pretty sure I pissed off all of 3racha in the process. Everyone had their recordings finished within an hour and mine took two. I feel like shit and then I come home and you’re here making food. I don’t see you enough and yet you choose to do things like this. I don’t deserve you.” 

He let his head fall into your chest. You gently rubbed the top of his head and let your fingers twirl around the dark strands of hair. You could feel dampness as his tears fell into your shirt. 

“You’ll always deserve me, no matter what. I’m not going to go anywhere even if you want me to. You’re stuck with me now. As for the band, are you sure you were single-handedly the reason why 3racha was mad?” 

“Well, I think so.” He pulled his head up from your chest. “Maybe not. Now that I think about it, they were testing out some new software and it seemed to be a struggle before we started recording.” 

“And don’t you think that played a role in it? Perhaps they weren’t upset with you and it was just the new software. It might have seemed like it was at you, but it probably wasn’t. Have they ever gotten upset in the recording studio before?” 

“No. I mean yes, but it’s never been like that. You’re probably right. I’ve just been having a lot of self doubt today and that made it worse.” 

“I’m really sorry,” you leaned forward and plopped a gentle kiss on the tip of his nose. 

“Ew,” he scrunched up his nose in disgust. “You just gave me your cooties.” 

You playfully rolled your eyes and pulled away. “I don’t have cooties. If I had them, you’d already be infected by this point.” 

“So did you really make my favorite food?” 

“Yes.” 

“I bet you poisoned it.” 

“Seungmin!” You whined. “I didn’t poison it! I put all my time, love, and effort into that food.” 

“Oh, so you infected it with your cooties?” An amused grin sat on his face. 

You shook your head and grabbed a bowl to start preparing portions for the two of you. Even if he was back to being a slight pain in your ass, at least, your boyfriend was finally back to his normal self. 

Read the next drabble: 🫰

[marblemoonstones]

🩵 catharsis ~ chapter four

main masterlist

series masterlist

pairing: bts ot7 x reader

genre: collegestudentreader!au 

warnings: ❗️any characters in the story have nothing to do with their real life counterparts❗️f reader, reader with glasses, reader gets yelled at briefly, use of word bitch

word count: ~4.4k

a/n: sorry everyone, it’s been a while! been busy, but i hope you enjoy reading 🤎

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………

The next couple weeks passed by in a blur, and before I knew it it was almost time for school to start up again. I’m going into my junior year at Seoul National University (sorry, super basic college) and am majoring in Education, as I want to be a teacher like Namjoon. But, unlike Namjoon, I don’t want to teach high schoolers. I want to be an elementary school teacher. (Sorry, I know it’s a pretty big time skip but I wanted to actually get to the college scenes lol)

The boys convinced me (more like begged me) to stay with them for school and said that “Your presence is payment enough!” (Minus Hoseok of course, as we’re still not on good terms for whatever reason) I finally relented after seeing the prices for dorms. Why were they so high for broke college students? Through these few weeks I have gotten to know the boys better.

Namjoon and I have gotten close because of our similarity in careers. We both are avid learners and want to help others learn and have bonded over many cups of tea. I know that I can go to him for any help with my schoolwork, and he says he will come to me for ideas because I am “younger and know what’s hip these days.” We also both love to read and have exchanged books frequently. He is more of a science fiction and fantasy type reader while I adore romance books (again, sorry if you don’t like these types of books). While I admit that his books are fascinating, I still prefer my cheesy, k-drama worthy books. There’s nothing better than us two sitting on my balcony reading all afternoon with some treats Jin or I baked.

Jin and I have become better friends through our cooking and baking. He is a master chef and much better than I will ever be, but it’s still fun to learn from him. It often makes me wonder why he is an actor and not a cook, but people can have more than one avid interest. My baking skills are modest at best, but I do still love to make different types of cookies as my mom taught me and to make cute mini lunchbox cakes for the boys to take to their work for a sweet treat. 

More often than not I catch Yoongi looking at my treats longingly so I make more and send them with him to work. He is especially fond of my coffee cookies as I found him secretly eating them as a midnight snack one night. Yoongi and I have a mutual understanding where if we both need to relax for second and just breathe, we’ll seek out each other. I sometimes sit in his studio, just zoning out and giving myself a minute. And he sometimes will come find me in my room and just lay down next to me as I continue watching my show. These moments make me feel content.

Times that I do not feel content are whenever I’m with Hoseok. I genuinely want to at least be acquaintances, but he seems to want to be enemies forever. I try to reach out but every time he ignores me. More often than not he finds some excuse to not be in the room with me. I know the boys have noticed, but they haven’t said anything to me about it. I can only hope that with time he and I will eventually be able to tolerate each other. 

With Jimin it has been a little harder to connect, but we eventually got to the point where we are now. While I’m not as close to him as the maknaes or even Yoongi, we still have a good bond. It all started when I asked if I could use the dance studio in the house (rich people, am I right?) for fun. I danced all through high school at a recreational studio and I enjoy it occasionally to keep me exercised. I was stretching when Jimin walked in and asked if he could watch. I was nervous at first but then once I got started I fell into my own world. Jimin applauded afterwards and I bowed, embarrassed. We both then danced together and that’s how our friendship started. 

My friendship with the youngest two grew during those couple of weeks. After the shopping trip they decided that we were now a ‘trio of trouble’ and that we were besties. I’ll admit, sometimes I did feel a bit like I was third-wheeling them but for the most part it was great to have genuine friends. Sure, I had friends but they were mostly college friends that I didn’t see outside of school. But with Tae and Kook I felt that I could truly be myself. Endless hours of binging movies, playing video games, and doing stupid challenges/dares kept me entertained until my first day back. 

Which is today. I’m not nervous, but I always get a small pit of dread in my stomach. I only have two classes today, Foundations of Education and Psychology (not me stealing these class names off a random college website haha). Foundations of Ed is in late morning, then I have a short break before Psych which is early afternoon. I have these classes three times a week, but they’re my only classes on those days. 

I roll out of bed and rub my eyes before grabbing my glasses groggily. I knock on Jungkook and I’s shared bathroom and don’t get a response so I turn the knob and no one’s in there. I know today is also Jungkook’s first day of senior year but I’m fairly certain that he has a class around the same time as me. I wonder why he’s not up yet? Knowing him he overslept. That boy needs to learn to get a better sleep schedule. I lock both connecting doors and then carefully place my glasses on the counter. After showering I hop out, put my glasses on (bad vision is a curse, and this author knows the struggle, trust me, but at least glasses/contacts exist) and after drying off I change. 

I put on jean shorts and a pink shirt, and after going into my bedroom I grab my backpack and double check that I have all of my supplies. A couple notebooks, binders, and of course a pencil pouch that’s all stocked up. Notebook paper as well as folders are also neatly lined up. I zip it up and then make my way downstairs. 

Namjoon, Hoseok, Jimin, and Yoongi are all at their respective jobs. Jin is taking a break from acting, so he’s mostly here and Taehyung has a shoot later in the afternoon so I know he is also around. 

Sure enough, Jin’s cooked me a ‘back to school breakfast,’ which is super sweet of him. 

“Thank you so much Jin! You really didn’t have to do this,” I say to him.

“Of course I did! It you and our maknae’s first day back so you deserve a special breakfast,” Jin replies. “Speaking of, where is the little brat? He shouldn’t be sleeping because he has to get ready and take you both to school!” 

“He’s still sleeping,” Taehyung says, walking down the stairs.

“Ugh, that kid will be the death of me. I’ll go get him. Eat up!” Jin goes upstairs, mumbling under his breath about how annoying Jungkook is.

I laugh, then sit down with Taehyung and start eating. Taehyung grins his boxy smile and says, “I wonder if Jungkookie will be late on his first day. If he is, I can take you to school.”

“I don’t think that Jin will let Kook be late,” I say, thinking of the father-like eldest.

“True. He’ll probably drag Jungkook by his hair if that means he gets up,” Taehyung says, laughing.

About ten minutes later a weary looking Jungkook and an irritated Jin come walking down the stairs.

“See, this is why you need to be more like y/n! She gets up on time and is actually prepared for school,” Jin scolds.

“Yeah yeah whatever hyung,” Jungkook says sleepily, sitting down at the table and eating a few bites of the now cold breakfast. 

“Don’t ‘whatever hyung’ me, you have to promise that whenever you have school you’ll actually be ready,” Jin says.

“Okay fine I promise. Y/n you ready to go?” Jungkook says, standing up from the table and going to get his shoes on.

“Yep,” I reply, going to put on my white converse.

“Bye! Have a good first day!” Jin and Taehyung say as we leave. 

Jungkook drives a nice sedan today instead of one of the rich luxurious cars they normally drive.

“Are you excited?” I ask Jungkook, “You’re almost done with school!”

“I’m excited to be done with it,” Jungkook agrees. We pull up and he parks then we get out and get ready to head to our respective classes. 

“Well have fun with your Foundations of Ed class. You don’t need a ride home after, right?” Jungkook asks me.

I shake my head. “Nope. I’m going to chill here through lunch until my Psych class then I’ll take the bus home.” 

“You know you can call any of us to take you home right? We wouldn’t mind,” Jungkook says. 

I know they wouldn’t care but I don’t want to bother them with me. 

“Oh, you’re all busy people so don’t worry about it! Here come some of your friends so I’d better go.” There are a couple guys and girls who are walking up to Jungkook. 

“Hey Jungkook!” 

“Good to see you bro!”

“How was your summer?” 

“Who’s this?”

The last question comes from a snobby looking girl. Her inky black hair is up in a high ponytail and she looks at me with disdain. 

“Oh, this is y/n. She’s the one who’s staying with me and the boys for a while,” Jungkook says, introducing me. 

“Hi y/n, I’m Felix.” He waves at me and I wave back.

“I’m Jackson,” says the next boy, grinning at me. 

“I’m Hwasa,” says the girl next to the snobby one. 

“And I’m Haneul,” says snobby girl. 

“Nice to me you all,” I say.

“So you’re the girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm!” Haneul says sweetly.

“Haneul,” Felix says through gritted teeth, “That’s not true.”

“I’m sure it is though, Felix. Isn’t that right, y/n?” Haneul now has the biggest fake smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Oh, well I supposed so,” I say, deflated at the thought that the boys think I’m just a ‘girl who’s too poor to stay at a dorm.’

“Um, y/n that’s not what-“ Jungkook starts, sensing my change in mood.

“I’ve got to get to class! Bye everyone, it was nice meeting you.” I interrupt Jungkook. Turning on my heel, I swiftly walk away from the group, hearing Haneul whisper under her breath, “I told you she was poor.” 

I find my building and classroom and walk in. It’s a decently sized room with partner desks in neat rows. Some students are already sitting in desks chatting with each other.

I find a seat in the back right corner by the window so I can see outside. I can only hope no one will sit by me, but that seems to not be the case as a couple minutes later a tired looking boy asks if he can sit next to me. I say yes and he flops into the seat and lays his head on his arms. 

“Oh, by the way my name’s Seungmin,” he mumbles before closing his eyes.

I smile, amused at his tiredness and turn my attention to the professor as she walks in. 

“Good morning class and welcome to Foundations of Education. We will be learning the basics of education and teaching in this class. My name is Professor Shin. Now, let’s take roll.” As she starts calling names, I turn my attention to my sleeping deskmate. I wonder if I should wake him up? 

“Choi y/n?” 

“Here,” I say.

Eventually she gets to Seungmin. 

“Kim Seungmin?” 

I nudge his elbow but he doesn’t stir. Then I poke him. Hard. This makes his head shoot up and then sees everyone staring at him. 

“Oh, uh, here.” 

“Mr. Kim, if you could please refrain from sleeping in class that would be much appreciated,” Professor Shin says with an annoyed look on her face. She then continues on with attendance. 

“Hey, are you okay? You look super exhausted,” I say to Seungmin, seeing how his eyes are red and have dark circles underneath them. 

“I’m fine I just stayed up way too late last night,” he says.

I nod then turn back to the professor, who is now passing out a slyllabus. I take a deep breath then focus for the rest of the class.

After class I bid goodbye to a still sleepy Seungmin and head out to get lunch. There are picnic tables around campus so I grab something to eat then go sit at an empty one. I enjoy the breeze through my hair and the peacefulness of the trees. Until I see someone coming up to me out of the corner of my eye. I look and it’s Hwasa and Jackson. 

“Hey y/n, can we sit here?” She asks.

“Sure.” 

They sit and pull out their own lunches.

“We’re sorry about Haneul this morning,” Jackson says after chewing and swallowing, “She can be a bit…blunt sometimes.”

“Who’re we kidding Jackson, she’s blunt all of the time,” Hwasa says with an eye roll. 

I appreciate these two apologizing for their friend’s action and like them immediately. 

“You guys really don’t have to apologize. I mean, I am poor enough to not be able to afford a dorm,” I say.

“Even if it’s true, that doesn’t mean she needs to be so bitchy about it, and besides, dorms are expensive for anyone,” Hwasa points out.

“Can we not talk about Haneul now please? I’m trying to eat,” Jackson complains. Hwasa and I laugh and we change the subject to school and finish our lunches. 

“Thanks for letting us join you for lunch y/n,” Hwasa says as we clean up and throw away our trash. 

“Of course. It’s nice to meet some of Kook’s friends!” I say, genuinely glad to have made more friends.

“Aww, you called him Kook. Are you two super close? You can tell us. We’ve been his best friends for ages now,” Jackson says.

I want to trust them, so I reply “I guess you could say that. We definitely have gotten closer these past couple of weeks.” 

“Ooh, have you now?” I hear a horrible voice behind me. Of course it’s Haneul. 

“You see, you may have gotten closer to Jungkook but I’ve known him since he was little. No one knows him better than me,” Haneul says, trying to intimidate me. 

It’s true that I still know little about the boys’ background and upbringings, but I am still surprised that Jungkook would hang out with someone like Haneul. The boys also haven’t mentioned her at all.

“You only hung out because your parents were good friends with his,” Hwasa explains with yet another eye roll. 

“Are you jealous Haneul?” Jackson teases, enjoying the glare in Haneul’s eyes.

“No, of course not. Why would I be jealous of a stupid nobody like her?” 

Wow, straight to the point. I can try to ignore it, but I’m not sure if I can deal with another person hating me. Hoseok is more than enough.

“Excuse me, I need to get to my next class.” I leave as gracefully as I can but my body still reacts to her calling me stupid. I take a deep breath and try to calm my shaking hands and racing heart. Eventually I am calm enough to walk into my next class, but my hands still tremble. 

I step into my Psychology hall, a big airy room made for a lot of students. There’s only a couple people in there as I am early because I was escaping from Haneul. 

I take a seat near the middle because I want to be able to see the board. Soon the hall starts filling up with students. A girl sits to my left and eventually a guys sits on my right. Neither of them look at me and continue to talk to their friends around them. 

The professor comes in, a kind looking man. He introduces himself as Professor Kim (so many Kims) and starts to talk. The class goes by quickly and then I’m free. First day of school done. I make my way out of the crowded hall and back into the sunlight. I check my phone and see that I have a couple missed text from Jungkook.

I’m sorry that Haneul said those things. I know ur not poor and I apologize for her words.

Y/n? Ur probably in class, but I just wanted to remind u that any of us would be happy to take u home after ur last class.

I smile at his Haneul text, but text him back to tell him that no one has to take me home.

I’m a big girl Kook, I can take myself home. But thanks :) 

I am about to round the corner of the building when I hear Haneul talking. I stop when I hear that she’s talking about me. 

“Honestly y/n probably just wants the boys money. She’s just a gold digger that acted all pitiful and the boys are too sweet to say no to her. I feel bad for her because as soon as the boys figure this out she’s going to be kicked out of their house. Actually that’ll be super funny!” 

I hear tittering laughter and turn around to go the other way, eyes slightly glassy. Is this what everyone thinks? That I’m a gold digger? If they think that, then I won’t accept anymore gifts from the boys. Them letting me stay is more than enough and I don’t want them to hear these rumors because it will impact their reputation. 

I blink the tears away and then continue to the bus stop. I check my phone to see that Jungkook has texted me again. 

Look, I know u can handle urself but I don’t want anything happening to u. Hobi-hyung is free now and I sent him to pick you up. Just this once bc it’s the first day ok? :) 

Great. I can’t let Hoseok see me like this. I sniff then blink and make sure I look okay before seeing a car pull up that has Hoseok in the driver’s seat. I text Jungkook back.

Ok just this once but no more after today Kook 

I go up to the car and open the passenger door, climbing in to a stoic Hoseok.

“Hi Hoseok. Thanks for picking me up. You don’t ever have to do this again. I told Jungkook I will be taking the bus for the rest of the year.”

“That kid didn’t even think that I have dance today, so I’m taking you to my studio. We can then go home together afterwards with Jimin,” Hoseok says with his usual coldness.

Oh boy. Going to his work? This is great. Just great.

The rest of the car ride is silent except for the light music of the radio. 

We pull up to a modern looking building that says Epiphany. I get out and follow Hoseok inside. The receptionist greets us and then Hoseok tells me to wait out here.

“My class ends in an hour and so does Jimin’s. We’ll leave after that so just wait here patiently.” He then leaves and I’m left to sit in the rather comfy chairs. The receptionist smiles at me and tells me to tell her if I need anything. 

There are two big glass windows and I can see into the studios. I see Jimin in one of them, leading stretches to younger looking children. I smile as they talk and laugh while doing their splits. I look to the other one and there’s Hoseok leading some college looking dancers in stretches too. 

The front door swings open and in walks none other than Hwasa and Haneul. 

“Oh my gosh, we’re late! Let’s go before Hobi kills us!” Hwasa says hurriedly, rushing to the studio with Hoseok in it. “Hi y/n!” She calls as she darts last me. 

Haneul is in less than a rush than Hwasa. “Oh hello y/n. What are you doing here? Surely you aren’t here for class? Only the best of the best come here.” 

“I’m just waiting for Hoseok and Jimin to finish their classes,” I say, trying to be polite even though I heard her hurtful words earlier. 

“Oh you can’t even drive? That’s rough. Or is it that you don’t have a car?” Haneul asks with a look of pity on her face.

“I can drive perfectly fine, but I don’t have a car as of right now. Anyways, aren’t you late to your class?” I ask as nicely as I can.

“Oh yeah, guess I’d better head there. Have fun sitting!” Haneul bounces away and I sigh. She’s everywhere, so I guess I better get used to her and her rude words. 

I turn my attention back to Jimin’s class. He’s leading the kids through the five ballet positions, walking around and fixing their legs and arms. His cheerful and encouraging smile makes me smile, and I can feel my heart flutter a bit. But, just as every time before, I push it away and remind myself that the boys are off limits. They all have each other and are happy. You’re just going after the first attractive people that you see y/n. And it just so happens to be your housemates. I can’t help that these are the kindest and most beautiful boys I’ve ever seen. They’re strictly friends to me and will stay that way. 

I look at Hoseok’s class, seeing that they’re now done warming up and move on to dancing hip-hop and free styling. While most of the class is good, my eye is drawn to Hoseok. This makes sense, as he is the teacher, but for some reason I can’t tear my eyes away. He looks up as he’s dancing and our eyes lock on each other. I quickly look away, my cheeks burning as he probably doesn’t like me staring at him. But then I see that his eyes are turned away too, and there is a hint of a blush on his cheeks. Or it could just be that he’s tired and sweaty from dancing. 

After both classes finish, I stand and stretch my arms from sitting for an hour. Hwasa comes out of the locker room and asks me, “What did you think? Were you impressed by my amazing dance skills?” 

I laugh and reply, “Yes of course. I didn’t know that you could dance like that!”

“Well, there’s a lot of things you don’t know,” Hwasa teases, “Like how you don’t know that Hobi was staring at you during class?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I say, dropping my voice to a whisper-yell, “He wasn’t looking at me! He hates me! And he’s dating six other boys!”

“Whatever they all like girls too…Unfortunately I have to go now, but give me your number and text me if any updates happen!” Hwasa swiftly grabs my phone and types her number in it, winks, and then saunters out. 

That girl! Thinking Hoseok was staring at me…that’s ridiculous. She’s crazy. But I think that we’re starting a great friendship. And the boys also like girls? That’s new to me.

“Hi y/n! What did you think of our class?” That awful voice again. Haneul.

I force a smile before saying, “It was great! You all are so talented.” 

“Why, thank you. I like to think so. I’m sure you’re good at something, right? Even poor people have some use in this world.” 

This girl. Honestly, if poor is the worst insult that she can come up with, it could be much worse.

“Look, Haneul-“

“Did you just call y/n poor?” A voice behind us asks. We both look to see Hoseok, standing with his arms crossed and a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. 

Haneul smirks, and I know that she is thinking that Hoseok is going to agree with her. She’s probably right.

“Yes, I did call y/n poor. I mean, come on Hobi, we all know that she’s just leeching off of the boys and your money and that-“

“Haneul, even if I don’t particularly like someone that doesn’t mean I talk bad about them and call them names to their face and behind the back. That’s just rude. Don’t be a bitch.” 

Haneul is shocked and storms out of the studio. 

I turn to Hoseok to thank him. 

“Thanks Hoseok. I really appreciate it, and I’m sorry-“

“Stop apologizing. No one deserves to be bullied by others,” he says bluntly. 

“Look, can I just ask you one question? Why do you hate me?” I burst out, frustrated because he defended me but still is coldly talking to me.

“I don’t hate you. I just don’t like change,” Hoseok says, sighing. 

“Okay, well I just wish that you would’ve told me beforehand. I’m sorry for being change in your life and-“

“God y/n! Stop apologizing!” Hoseok shouts. I avert my eyes to the ground, as this is my usual tactic when someone yells at me. I try not to think of my ex. 

I hear Hoseok apologize, low and slow. 

Then he says, quieter, “Look, I don’t hate you and I wish that you would stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault. Let’s get this out of the way; we may not like each other but let’s try to get along for the boys’ sake. Does that sound okay?” 

I take a deep breath and nod. 

“Sure, Hoseok.”

He does a small smile for the first time at me and holds out his hand. 

“Getting along?”

I shake it. 

“Getting along.”

a/n: i was going to write more, but i thought it was better to end here! looks like y/n and hobi are finally going to maybe get along! what do you think of haneul? and stray kids, hwasa, and jackson cameo! much love y’all. have an amazing day or night wherever you are 🫶🏼🩷

[yaboirezzy]

AmyTerry Stuff 3 because f**k me there's another

Amy: *minding her own business, not doing anything*

Terry: appears out of nowhere, kisses her on the cheek, leaves* :)

Amy, blushing: Alright idiot, bet

-

Terry: *playing on his video game console*

Amy: *pops out of the screen with Erma's help and kisses him*

3 Minutes Later...

Terry, laying down on the ground: 🍅

Connor, knowing what happened: Wow, that video game really got you heated huh? 😏

————————————————

Amy: Terry... I know this sounds crazy... But I think I want to kiss you...

Terry: Oh fr?😳😳 That is so love-hate 💛🤎 and rivals-to-friends-to-lovers 💯 my girl 👍

Amy:

Amy: I think I want to punch you before I kiss you

————————————————

Amy: I'll have you know, my taste in boys are actually quite high!

Terry: AAAAAH HELP! I ACCIDENTALLY LIT MY YOGURT ON FIRE AND MY SANDWICH EXPLODED!!

Amy: ...See, that one right there is mine!

The other girls: 😶😐😑

————————————————

Terry: Heh he heh. Hey Amy, do you think anyone thinks we're a thing together?

Amy: My therapist (Sidney) has advised me not to talk about this with you...

————————————————

Terry: I would literally die for you

Amy: Please at least say 'hello' before you devolve into something like that

Terry: Oh okay. Hey! I would literally die for you

————————————————

Sylvia: What's wrong with Amy? She's been sitting there, red faced, for at least 15 minutes now

Sidney: Oh it's simple really: she and Terry we're having a fight earlier, it was getting kinda heated since she started strangling his neck, but somehow after one or two spins between the two of them they ended up in that one romantic pose with Terry grabbing her by the waist (reference: it's that one scene in Rio), and after that unexpected ending she immediately went over to me and explained what happened even though she was still somewhat shocked

Sylvia, dumbfounded at Sidney's explanation: Huh...

Miko: And they say romance is dead

————————————————

Terry, teary eyed and emotional: *hugs Amy* You are the kindest most beautiful person I've ever met in my life! I love you so much, you mean everything in the world to me, thank you so much for everything!!

Amy, red as a tomato: T-Terry?! I- You're welcome but...I'm- I'm literally just giving you the new video game that you really wanted for a gift! Now let me go idiot, people are watching us!!

————————————————

Terry: See Amy, isn't this nice? Just the two of us having some time together at the new local diner

Amy, annoyed: Yeah...just the two of us...

The Blairwoods Squad: *spying from the table behind them*

Felicia and her friends: *spying from the table in front of them*

The Williams, Yureimotos, and other families: *spying from the tables outside*

Amy, just loud enough for all of them to hear: You are all miserable shippers...

Terry: *absolutely clueless as to what is happening*

(These all take place sometime between present day and the future teen/middle school years)

[imagionationstation]

Hi!!

So my question is, what’s your favorite thing about the 2012 turtles? How did you get into the series? And if you had to pick a lease favorite version of the series or character, which would you pick? Sorry if this is a lot 😅

Thank you very much! Have a nice day! 😁

Favorite thing about the 2012 bois? You just had to put the most difficult one first, didn’t you? 🤣

I don’t have an absolutely-most-favorite-ever thing, buuuuut, if I had to choose one that stands out the most, it would be how realistic they feel. They act like normal teens, with obsessions and banter and constant bickering and crushes and little quirks and stims. I love how being ninjas are so natural to them (adore when they pull a ninja move and nobody blinks because, yep- that’s definitely things normal people do!) and how it’s portrayed as just another aspect of their lives. Raph loves comics and art, Leo loves Space Heroes and RP games, Donnie loves inventing and experimenting, and Mikey loves pretty much everything. They may be ninjas, but they also feel relatable!

How did I get into the series?

Total bout of honest rn- ya’ll ready?

I’ve known TMNT existed for years, but I never actually watched it until the 2007 show appeared on Netflix. I watched the movie, and was enthralled. Then I watched it again. Then I watched it again. Then I recorded the fight scene between Leo and Raph so I could memorize it- I honestly couldn’t tell you why. I’m interesting 🤣

I WAS IN LOVE AND LEO WAS SO COOL AND PEOPLE I NEEDED MORE-

So I did what any sane person would do. I tore apart the internet trying to find out how to watch every ep of every single turtle-like series and every movie out there!

And then I found 2012 and my obsession with the leader in blue shrank because… ✨Donnie✨. Wholesome green bean. Misunderstood, often in the background, devoted older/little brother.

Least favorite version of a character?

Okay, okay, okay. I already got that covered.

Leon. The 2018 sorry excuse for a Leonardo.

PLEASE DON’T HATE ME IT’S JUST MY OPINION I’LL EXPLAIN I’M SORRY-

Now, don’t confuse my dislike of him as a hater. He has good qualities. I like the episodes where he’s being supportive of his brothers or relentlessly tracking them down because he thinks portal pirates have taken them. His dedication is kinda heartwarming and very Leo-esc.

Unfortunately, how he goes about… Everything. Grates on my nerves.

Series Leo is cocky, arrogant, egotistical, narcissistic, bratty, a liar, a manipulator, doesn’t seem to give two shells about other people’s feelings most of the time, will do anything to put himself in the spotlight at the expense of his brothers, often hurts his brothers in the process of getting what he wants, and can’t take responsibility for a single irresponsable action to save his life.

Movie Leo- now that’s a Leon I can get behind. We need more of him. I’d love more of him. I NEED MORE OF HIM- *cough*

Series Leo has his pros and cons, but when the cons outway the pros… Well, I’m obsessed with turtles, and he strains at my obsession with 2018. Which would make him my least favorite boy.

TIME TO GO INTO MY SAFETY BUNKER BEFORE THIS IS MISINTERPRETED AND I DIE 😅

THANKS SO MUCH YOU FOR THE ASK! BYEEEE~

💚❤️💙💜🧡🤎💚

[maple-the-awesome]

We'll Meet Again...I Know When || Chapter 11

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x GN Reader

Words: 3,672

Overview: Given your old-fashioned personality and obsession with all things 1940s to 1980s, it’s no wonder that most people refer to you as an ‘old soul’ who would’ve rather lived back then than in the modern era. Little do they know, you already did, but with your previous life as Hollie Stark cut short, you’ve been left with some…unfinished business, to say the least. Top of your list? Finally getting to marry your thought-to-be-lost fiancé.

Series Masterlist 🤎 Marvel Masterlist 🤎 Fandom Masterlist

CHAPTER ELEVEN: LIKE THE GOOD O' DAYS

Like an animal returning from hibernation, you've become considerably more energetic as the winter begins drawing to a close. The idea of warmer weather, even if just a small improvement from what you've been seeing, has made the idea of leaving the apartment far less bothersome, therefore much to Bucky's joy, you've finally agreed to visit Old Town with him.

Going to the historical neighborhood in Bucharest has been on your roommate's mind for a while now. He had first been informed of its existence while helping your elderly neighbor, Rosetta, bring groceries up to her apartment as he normally does every Monday. She made the designation sound so interesting and given Bucky's wonder, you happily agreed to go sometime.

Of course, that was a week or two before the first snowfall. Now, you love Bucky with all your heart- enough to remember him in a completely new life even - but enough to trek through mounds of freezing snow just to see some old buildings? If you wanted to look at something old and beautiful, you'd just stare at him all day; no risk of hyperthermia needed!

Honestly, you would've toughened up and gone for the hike if it made Bucky happy, but perhaps taking pity upon you, he decided to bless you with a compromise to wait for warmer weather. Seeing that the streets are no longer buried in slippery snow or splashy slush, it's a perfect time to make good on that deal.

Armed with an oversized coat, hat, scarf, and mittens, you're fully equipped for the chill which still holds a tight grasp over the air unfortunately. Even Bucky wears several layers of clothing topped with his own coat, although it isn't that much compared to what everyone else is wearing. Then again, the man's built like a brick wall; you doubt much wind gets passed those muscles.

"So, what's on the itinerary today, Barnes? I'm assuming you've got the whole day planned for us, right?" Despite your mouth being covered by your scarf, your breath is visible in the air for each spoken word and Jack Frost is already nipping at your nose.

While this trip had been his idea, Bucky didn't expect to be in charge of plans since you've normally got that part covered yourself, so hiding his panic, he suggests quickly," let's just walk around, 'look at some of the buildings and see if anything interests us along the way."

"Fine by me!" Fortunately for him, you hold no objections, continuing to cheerfully skip along his side.

Bucky tilts his head, holding a thought on the tip of his tongue for a moment before finally daring to speak it,"...can we also check out some of those souvenir shops Rosetta suggested?"

You mock a pout, embracing his arm in yours and giving it a playful tug," oh, I don't know. She said they have a lot of old stuff in there. I would hate for anyone to try stealing you away from me now."

He rolls his eyes," I'm sure you won't have to worry about that."

"Hopefully not or else there'll be a fight! But just to be sure~!"

Bucky stops when you suddenly jump in front of him, holding out your mittened hand high into the air near his face. All the while you wear an impish grin that peeks out from behind your scarf, one that promises only mischief yet that familiar glossy shine in your eyes promises something else entirely; something much softer and genuine.

"Hold my hand."

"Hold...your hand?" For a split second, he almost obeys without another thought. His right hand reaches out as if attached to a magnet being pulled towards yours, however it hesitates midair once he gains control of his senses again.

"Your hearing hasn't gone out yet, that's good," you smirk, blowing air from your nose," yes, I want you to hold my hand."

"Why?"

'Damn, why does he always have to make such simple things so difficult?'

"Because my hand is cold, I don't want you to get lost out here, and I just want to hold your hand. It's been a while anyways," far too long.

Bucky glances at your hand which makes a childish grabby motion, hopeful he'll take the bait for once, but instead, he walks right past you, his hands remaining stuffed inside his pockets as they have been since leaving the apartment.

Frowning, you let your hand fall back to your side in disappointment, yet you would've accepted this defeat without voiced complaint if not for Bucky's hand suddenly clenching yours before beginning to tug you along behind him.

It's a delicate grip, one you can't realistically call a grip at all given how easily you could just slip your hand away, although you know him well enough to understand what it means: the poor thing's afraid of somehow harming you.

Sneaking a curious glance at his face, you notice the hint of red brushing his cheeks which he fruitlessly attempts to hide by the shadow of his tilted hat...Cute.

Walking on your own, you nestle yourself against his arm while taking no shame in your shining smile nor his shy embarrassment as he does nothing to stop you...Adorable.

Old churches, modern museums, and a much needed café break; that's been your day so far. Oh, and the hand holding. That's been wonderful, too. Since the moment Bucky took your hand in his, he's been cursed to hold it for the remainder of the day which has kept both your hand and heart pleasantly warm throughout such an otherwise cold afternoon.

"This has been fun. Excellent choice for a Friday date, Barnes," you praise, taking another sip of your beloved drink. You've had him order the same, offended that he's never tried it before. Trusting you with his life, he complied, although he hasn't commended much on whether he actually enjoys it or not.

Bucky flinches while fidgeting with his own warm porcelain mug. Date...That simple four-lettered word sticks in his head more than he'd care to admit. He almost corrects you, but decides against it in favor of just busying himself by studying the passersby from the café window you both sit next to.

Unfortunately, Bucky isn't as smooth as he thinks and you definitely notice his discomfort. Guilt eats at you, begging you to apologize and insist this is just a friendly date, however feeling that the discussion would only confirm any awkwardness, you comment on something else instead.

"Getting worn out from all this socialization?"

"No-" Bucky presses his lips into a thin line before changing his answer,"...a bit. I just..."

"It's fine. We can finish up here and get back to the apartment," you lean back into your chair with crossed arms," you know, I'm proud of you. You've managed to let loose and be yourself within a public space. That's a big step in the right direction."

His lip twitches upwards at your compliment, although he's hesitant to actually accept it, soon lowering his head with a frown,"...this feels wrong."

You barely hear his whispered words and answer back just as quietly," what does?"

"Being out here with you, having a good time when I...I don't think I-"

"-James Buchanan Barnes," you're quick to lean forward, reaching towards him without actually touching. Instead, you keep your hand near his where it can at least gain his attention," you have every right to enjoy life. It's gonna feel weird and wrong at first, and it might for a while, but that's a part of the healing process, too. You just have to do your best to set aside those negative thoughts and trust in your own happiness.

"You've been having fun today, right? We went to the museum and looked at the art, we checked out the Stavropoleos Monastery which was cool, and you even got to buy stuff at your souvenir shops...What did you get anyways, you never showed me?"

"Nothin' special," Bucky states, tapping his metal finger against the mug with a 'clink'.

"Alright then, keep your secrets," you rest your chin on your hand with a wicked grin as you admire his handsome features. If only this was a romantic date, then you'd have every excuse to decorate his cheeks and lips with dozens of butterfly kisses.

"...What?"

"Nothing," you mumbled.

Something else you've noticed about this Bucky is his easily flustered nature which is very different from the Bucky you once knew. Back in those days, he took every compliment right to his head, adding it to his already steep ego and responding quickly with his silver tongue. It was nearly impossible for you to get the man to blush, but the same couldn't be said about him with you. He always had some flirty reply prepared, well aware of the effect his charm had over you and damn, did he use it to his advantage.

Now, Bucky behaves in a way Hollie never thought possible. While he does admittedly have his smooth moments, he's rather shy and reluctant. You now have no problem drawing that blush from him and can even make him completely tongue tied if you feel evil enough. You don't mind this change, actually. It's cute seeing him so flustered...Maybe that's why 1940s Bucky always teased you so much.

While you're lost in thought, present Bucky shifts in his seat, grabbing the small paper bag hung on its back before placing it on the table. This movement snaps you out of it, your eyes dropping to the object then rising to him in wordless question. He bashfully nods towards the bag which gives you the hint.

As he hides his worry behind the mug he brings to his lips, you peek inside the paper barrier, not seeing anything too well through the shadow, thus you opt for reaching inside. Snatching something, you pull it out carefully to examine it further.

In your hand rests a beautiful Romanian bead bracelet like the very ones you had been observing in a souvenir shop earlier during this trip. Some had plain colors while others had designs with many triangles, but your favorite contained flowers. In particular, you enjoyed the contrast of a white bracelet with red and blue flowers and green stems; the very bracelet you currently hold now.

"That was the one you liked, right?" Bucky's hopeful towards this question, his eyes watching your every movement intensely as you run your fingers over the tiny beads.

"Yeah...I really liked this one, but how did you-?" From what you remember, Bucky had been across the shop searching the book section. You hadn't even been looking at the bracelets long, only a minute or two before going to wait outside of him, so when did he...?

"-I noticed you at the bracelets and even the owner mentioned how much you seemed to like that one, so I figured I'd get it- you know, as a small 'thank you' gift for helping me out so much..." he smiles slightly, glancing at the bracelet in memory. He knows you don't usually focus on yourself much, instead keeping an eye out for him, thus he wanted to do something special to show you his utmost appreciation.

Raising his attention from the bracelet to your face, Bucky frowns immediately, shame and panic filling him at the sight of your tears," w-was I not right? I can get you a different one if you want or-or should I have-?"

"-No, no," you're quick to wipe your sleeve under your eyes, giving a sniff before smiling his way brightly," I love it! Thank you so much, Bucky. It's perfect."

He isn't too convinced, voicing as much," you're sure?"

"I'm sure. It's just..." biting your lip, you move the beads with your thumb in thought. The bracelet truly is beautiful, but it means so much more coming from him," no one's gotten me a gift like this in a while. I'm touched."

Bucky stares at you for a second before carefully asking,"...not even your fiancé?"

You flinch, but shake your head and clear away another tear," well, it's not really his fault. He's been...busy, you could say...but maybe I should tell him about this, huh? Let him know he's got competition and better shape up real soon before you steal me away from him, hmm?"

At this, Bucky rolls his eyes," no, don't tell him that. I don't wanna start a fight."

"Fine, for your sake, I won't say a word," you laugh heartily, pinning the bracelet around your wrist finally and holding it out to get a good look at it in the sun,"...thank you, Bucky. I'll treasure this forever."

He smiles, creating a mental photo of the way your eyes glimmer happily in this moment," you're welcome."

"So, how was it?"

"Today was nice. We went to Old Town for the afternoon and had a lot of fun. Bucky was able to let loose, I had him teach me some Romanian words I immediately forgot, and then we ordered take out for dinner," you list off the events of your day while raising your hand towards the ceiling and staring at your bracelet with a gleeful smile. By the way you've been coddling the jewelry, one might think Bucky had proposed to you again with it.

"And then~?"

"’Then’ what?"

"The sex! How was the sex? I need details."

You feel your face flare, sitting up quickly from the bed with a growl," Natasha, what the hell makes you think we had sex?!"

"Oh, I don't know…You're currently living with a hot guy who you used to be engaged to in your past life, you're so in love with him that you retrained all your memories from said past life just to remember him-"

"-We think that's the reason anyways-"

"-Aaaand you seemed really excited to call me tonight. With all things considered, you really can not blame me for thinking you just got laid!”

"Well, I didn't," you run a hand over your face with a shake of your head. Thank goodness Bucky went to pick up the take out. While you normally have your conversations with Natasha in private so that you can stress all your secret worries to her, apparently you also need to keep him from overhearing this topic, too.

"Really? What's his problem? I figured he'd literally jump at the chance after he found out you're his Hollie?"

"Probably because he still doesn't know that part yet."

"...Oh..." Natasha's silent for a moment," you mean you still haven't told him? (Y/n), how long do you plan to wait exactly? I mean, I understand why you didn't say anything out of the gates, but the two of you have been together for a while now. Don't you think it's about time he learned the truth?"

"It's just not that easy, Nat," you sigh. Deep down, you do feel wrong for not saying anything. It kills you everyday to not be able to have Bucky see you as Hollie. Your relationship - and undying love for him - would be so much easier to manage then, but there's too many ways a reveal could go south.

"Assuming that Bucky would even believe me is a stretch to begin with and even if he does, there’s several issues that could present themselves. For one, I’m only Hollie through memory. What if (Y/n) being Hollie creeps him out so much that he wants nothing to do with either of us - me - whatever?!”

“Or he could see past that little detail and love you for who you are on the inside.”

“Okay, sure, but what about his unresolved guilt towards Hollie? I mean, we’re not talking about him just mourning her death the way anyone else would. As far as he's concerned, he's the one who killed her. No matter what I try to say to convince him otherwise, he blames himself for it and it destroys him inside. What if that guilt remains and he ends up pushing me away with some fucked up reasoning that it’s to ‘protect me’?”

“By telling him you’re Hollie, you’d be telling him as her that you forgive him,” Natasha speaks slowly to not get tripped over all the pronouns,” maybe he’d be more willing to forgive himself then.”

"Yeah…but this is Bucky we're talking about. I don't think he'd move on that easily regardless of whether it's Hollie or (Y/n) telling him to. He’s got catholic-style guilt, Nat!”

“That serious, huh?”

“Yes!”

Now it's Natasha who sighs,"...listen, I understand why you’re scared. I know how scary it can be trusting people with your past especially when they’re someone whose judgment means so much to you, however I also know that the truth will come out eventually. The risk only grows the closer you are to someone and the more you try to keep things hidden. At one point or another, the truth might be exposed and the more you wait to do it yourself, the more you risk it being at a bad time in the worst way.

“Just look at how I found out. We were already on edge with everything that happened then you began acting weird…For a second there, I was worried you were either a double agent or plain insane. In the end, I believed you, but not everyone is going to be as understanding as your super cool best friend.”

You chuckle softly, practically able to see Natasha’s smirk, too.

“Now, I don’t know a single thing about Barnes other than those times he tried killing me, so I’m probably not the greatest judge of this, but based on everything Steve and you have said, it sounds like he really loves you - uh, Hollie that is. Think about how you felt finding out he was still alive? Don’t you think he’d be just as relieved to know his fiancée’s gotten a second chance at life, too?

“Even when talking about (Y/n), Bucky clearly trusts you. Take it from me, there’s no way an assassin would go on a date and hold hands with someone they don’t trust with their life; that’s worth something, isn’t it? He’d be more willing to listen to whatever you have to say, all you gotta do is think of something only Hollie and him would know - something he still remembers about her - and use it to convince him. You managed to convince me as a total stranger to Hollie, so I’d imagine it would be easier to accomplish with someone who truly knew her. He’d be able to confirm for a fact that you’re telling the truth since he knows it himself.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat things. Everything that you mentioned before can happen. He might be really creeped out. He might push you away to protect you. Truthful, you gotta admit, it’s a little-”

“-Weird knowing someone’s practically two different people at once?” You finish with a roll of your eyes," yeah, I've realized that…and I’ve long expected that part. My main concern is just not hurting Bucky. I want him to believe me and, even if he doesn’t want to be together in this life, I want him to move on from Hollie. I want him to know it’s okay to go be happy without either of us…Ultimately, I just want him to have closure…”

You take in a shakily breath, pulling at the bracelet around your wrist. It kills you inside to see Bucky’s guilt and not truly be able to stop it. When he first broke down that day, admitting he remembered Hollie and her death by his hands, you wanted nothing more than to jump at him and kiss away his tears, telling him over and over again how much Hollie loves him, how much you love him…but you couldn’t bring yourself to do that.

“I’m tied to Hollie. Through me, she can finally tell Bucky everything’s going to be okay - that she doesn’t blame him for what happened…Maybe it won’t help him, maybe it will, but at the end of the day, he’ll at least hear it and that’s the greatest push I can offer…He deserves it so, yes, I am going to tell him eventually. Now just isn’t the right time; not while he’s still trying to find his footing. I can’t be the reason his life gets more confusing and chaotic than it already is. I just…We need a little more time.”

Natasha must’ve realized it by now. Yeah, you’re concerned over Bucky’s feelings and you’ve listed every worry you have regarding them, however deep down, this isn’t only about him. You’re scared. Despite every night that you’ve told yourself you’d be okay with him leaving you- with him hating you-, deep down, you fear such an outcome. You don’t want to lose him. You don’t want to feel his hate…So you’re delaying the inevitable until you magically find the strength to face it.

“...Can you just make me a promise?”

“To tell him? Yeah, I-”

“-No, not just to tell Barnes. I want you to eventually tell Steve and Tony, too. I think it’s safe to say Barnes isn’t the only one needing closure over Hollie. Steve went into the ice then woke up decades later with no one and Tony was a child who tragedy lost his only aunt. Don’t you think they deserve answers just as much as Barnes?

“They might not accept it, but if they do, they’ll be able to know they still have a piece of her around…You know, I can’t do much regarding lover boy, but I can always vouch for you to Rogers and Stark; punch them over the heads if they give you too much trouble.”

You chuckle softly, giving her question some thought. Steve and you were close friends in the past and Tony was practically attached to your hip whenever around. Even in this lifetime, you’re close to both of them and you’ve observed their own remaining sorrow over Hollie. They both mourn her, Steve disappearing on his own during any anniversary related to her while Tony still keeps her last present to him on his desk, avoiding any mention of her otherwise. They deserve to know how close she’s truly been to them this whole time…

“I’ll tell them, too. I promise.”

NEXT CHAPTER ➡️

⬅️PREVIOUS CHAPTER

[fakkeera]

Writing down my wishes here coz someone said i should write them somewhere open to manifest.

The point is most of the wishes are plans i made to execute with my better half(if i let anyone be).

1. Wishing him to be a devotee of Lord Shiva if not at least respect him so that i could take him with me to visit all the temples of Lord Shiva. Not just the temples, the mountain and caves related to the lord. How beautiful it will be to have my world with me visiting the supreme soul's centre points telling him all stories, meditating with him, purifying souls together, chanting mantras together, vibrating higher together, having blessings with him, with him praying for him. 🪷

2. Calling my one with the name, "Shiv" or "Shiva" i hope he likes. 😌

3. Randomly enacting any scene of a movie or any dialogues with him.

4. Singing the bohemian raps together. It might be impossible bcs not many people listen to bohemia's classic verses💯 Still fingers crossed.

5. Manifesting a tea lover bcs tea is love. I respect coffee people but tea is home. With my one, having morning and evening teas together especially tea with black pepper ♥️

6. Together reading books or poems🤎. Talking about poets, their love life, their struggles. If that person likes something else i am ready to learn for him.

7. Discussions about life, humans, gods, universe, music, books, artists, movies. I discuss these things with those on whom i have utmost trust and have respect for them. 🌙

8. Exploring music together. Music is important🤌

9. Settling in the mountains maybe? Because I don't like human society. We can have our little restaurant or coffee place for earning. Being happy in the little. Just Us two being happy in the mountains bcs i love mountains.. i dont even know why but these feel more like home. I have planned that if I couldn't do well in this world I would go somewhere far in a village in the mountains of himachal maybe kallatop. ❄️

10. Northern lights.. i love them. I want to see those great green northern lights upon my head with or without someone. One day for sure.💯

11. Visiting Jordan and Prague.. bcs Rockstar movie was shot there. ⭐

12. Visiting Scotland on Harry Potter shooting locations.🍂

13. Visiting that green place of my dream I didn't disclosed to everyone. I need to find first where it is.🌀

14. Some evenings beside lakes.🌊

15. Visiting Cambridge or Oxford University liberary. 📚

16. Having my own library at home or owning one somewhere outside for people.

17. Publishing my own books either fiction or non fiction.

18. Read books till the end of my life. 😌

19. Attending a concert maybe? I dont know if i'll enjoy it.

20. Naming my daughter (if i'd have babies) "Amrita" and "Jordan" for my son.🌷

Maybe i'll add more or delete some in future but for now these are in my mind. ✨

[simp47koreancrackheads]

Ok I apologize for being this late buttttt here I am let’s goooo😍😍😍😍😍

The uncertainty of not knowing how long he’ll be away is affecting me too😭😭 can’t they hire a nurse or something 🙈🙊

“I can hardly stop you; you know the codes.” “How many times do I have to tell you that you can change them?” BUSTEDDDDD ahhhh this yoongi!!

“Did the cold suit Yoongi? Did his cheeks get flushed and his nose turn pink? Did he like the cold weather? The dark and cosy nights?” Pls the way she thinks about him??? Giiiiiirrrrllllll🙈🫶🏼 she’s missing him big time though 🥺 can’t imagine having him all to myself and then he just…. Puff. Gone for who knows how long 😩

NAMJOON IN DA HOUSE YESSSSSSSS😍😍😍😍🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

“I think she hears people and thinks it might be Yoongi and she’s disappointed when it’s not. I think she misses him.” omg?!! talk about crushing my heart!! 😭

HE LEFT CHERRY HIS WHAT????? MONI ARE YOU TRYING TO BREAK ME😫😫😫😫😫

LOL not the whole class thinking they were together 🙈🙈🙈 but yes they’re the sweetest black cat/golden retriever duo 💘💘💘

JAJAJAJAJ the drunk sceneeee🤣🤣 honestly I’ve been waiting for it since you sent me the sneak peek!!🤣🤣 love it

“There was guilt there, too. He knew he’d been a little quiet, a little distant with you. It was only half intentional. He didn’t want to know what he was missing, didn’t want to acknowledge his life back in Seoul” 🥺🥺🥺 my god ITS OK TO BE MISSED/MISS SOMEONE is2g these two kill me sometimes!! 🥺🥺🥺❤️‍��❤️‍🩹

“So you had come. You had come to Daegu. Because he had said he wanted a hug. You had come almost 200 miles. To see him.” 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 I don’t even !! Have words!! !!!!!!!!!!!! I swear I want these two to be smothered in love and affection and and 😫 god they deserve so so so so much. And that hug????????? I’ll cry anytime now🥲🥲🥲

“I’m not going to let you” “I know” 😫❤️‍🩹🥺 no but this. I love the fact that they understand each other so good. They’re exactly what they need. He can say that bc he knows he can let it out and she’ll understand. And that level of trust is just so much that it doesn’t surprise me he’s scared/overwhelmed of his feelings for her? Or at least in denial? Idk but I’m so happy that she came all the way (she couldn’t hold herself anymore though😅) bc these two need each other and they belong together!!!!! Idek if I make any sense now I JUST LOVE THEM SO MUCH😭❤️‍🩹

“Teddy 🐻: don’t have a crisis rn. Come home and then you can have one, ok?” bless him, honestly 🥺🤎🫶🏼

“You would love, value, and forgive him enough for the lot of them.” 🥺🥺🥺❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 i really hope he knows this!! 🥺

I’m SO sorry all I have to offer are mostly emojis (compared to the masterpiece you write) but that’s the thing. This fic just leaves me speechless!! You express their feelings so good and with such detail, I’m only left to react to my fav parts !! Reading this fic (and you) is always such a pleasure and idk it recharges me. Though this chapter left me wanting more!! I feel like they need that reassurance that they can be loved and I hope so so bad they allow themselves to!!🥺❤️‍🩹🫶🏼

Moni my friend you’re amazing💜💜💜 thank you so much for this!!🫶🏼🫶🏼✨💜

Kintsugi 8

Pairing: Yoongi x reader

Genre: strangers-to-friends-to-lovers, non-idol!au, angst, smut, eventual fluff

Summary: In a fit of spiteful, post-break-up self-improvement, you sign up to a baking class. Yoongi, in a bid to appease his demanding girlfriend, signs up, too. Determined to make him your friend, you end up with more than you ever imagined.

Word count: 9.4k

Content: Yoongi POV!!, death (Yoongi's granddad), yet more talk about suicide

A/N: un-beta'd!! honestly wanted to call this 'Nostalgia' (based entirely on the Greek, nostos, return, algia, pain) but like, nostalgia is an actual English word now that doesn't really mean that so I couldn't, but them's the vibes!!!

Chapter Seven | Masterlist | Chapter Nine

Chapter Eight – Nostos 

You liked Friday nights at Yoongi’s. For one thing, he was, by far and away, a better cook than you were and food always tasted better when you didn’t have to cook it. There was also the cat (though she did spend most of her time curled up on his bed, ignoring everyone and everything). Somewhere around third was Yoongi himself. 

He cleared his throat and put his spoon down. 

“I think I have to cancel dinners, by the way.” 

“Oh-” you clutched your invisible pearls with a fake gasp and a mouth full of rice, “are you friend-breaking up with me?” 

It was a joke as you said it, but as soon as you heard the words and paired them with Yoongi’s quietness—different from his usual kind—and the way he was fidgeting, you felt a prick of anxiety.  

“I’m going back to Daegu.” 

“Like, moving?” 

You quickly swallowed your mouthful before all the food turned to ash. Yoongi couldn’t leave Seoul; he wouldn’t. Couldn’t. No- 

He shook his head. 

“My grandfather had a fall. My dad called. Said I should go back there.” 

“Oh shit.”  

He shrugged. You reached out and placed your hand over his; he looked at them, your hand and his, for a moment, then he shrugged again and shook his head. 

“It’s alright. I haven’t been back for a while so it’s probably overdue anyway.” 

“How long will you be there for?” 

Yet another shrug. 

“Not sure yet. Depends what happens to my grandfather, I suppose. My dad didn’t say much – never does – so I’m not entirely sure what I’ll be greeted with when I get down there but I’ll stay until he’s back on his feet. No idea how long that will be.” 

You said nothing. You said nothing because you were not going to actually say any of the things that you were thinking; things like ‘do you have to go?’, ‘can’t you just stay?’, and ‘please don’t leave’. You knew he had to go; you knew that you wouldn’t really have wanted him to stay because who stays when their father calls and tells them that his father is in hospital and they need your help? No one good. You knew, also, that you could survive without him, that you didn’t need him to keep you afloat or anything like that. You just wanted him around. And that wasn’t enough to make you ask him to stay when he had to go.  

“Well, I hope he’s ok,” you offered instead. “Do you have to take time off work?” 

“No, I can work from home. For a while at least. I don’t know if they’ll put a time limit on it or just let me keep going.” 

You didn’t like this. All this uncertainty, the indefiniteness of his absence. Some things take a long time to recover from; he could be gone for months. You shivered, even in the warmth of Yoongi’s apartment, with a stomach full of hot stew. 

“What about Cherry?” 

Yoongi was already eating again, the disquiet that had hung over him dispelled now that he’d spat it out, said the thing he had obviously been harbouring uncomfortably all evening.  

“Oh, Namjoon’s going to look after her,” he answered. “She has an automatic feeder and water bowl, so she’ll mostly be taken care of anyway but he said he’ll come over and hang out with her.” 

“Can I?” 

“Can you what?” 

“Can I come and hang out with Cherry, too?” 

Yoongi looked surprised, then amused, and then he got that smile on his face that said he was going to indulge you in whatever stupid thing you were talking about now. 

“Yeah, if you want. I can hardly stop you; you know the codes.” 

“How many times do I have to tell you that you can change them?” 

He rolled his eyes with a grin. 

“Yeah but then I’d have to tell everyone else the new ones... It’s too much bother.” 

“Hear that, Cherry?” you called to the bedroom. “You and I are going to be best fucking friends! Just you wait!” 

“Are you threatening my cat?” 

You threw a napkin at him.  

You stared at your phone. Your still, silent phone. 

“You know a watched pot never boils, princess. Your boyfriend isn’t going to call if you just stare at it.” 

“He’s not my fucking boyfriend,” you snapped back, more viciously than you’d intended. “I thought you’d stopped making those jokes.” 

Taehyung just shrugged. 

“You seem very het up about not hearing from him, that’s all. You certainly never miss my contact that much.” 

“As if I would ever go that long without your contact. I can barely get away from you.” 

“As if you would have it any other way.” 

You were crabby. Out of sorts. Yoongi wasn’t great at keeping in touch over the phone—not even at the best of times and this was certainly not that. You had exercised what you thought was extreme restraint, waiting until he had replied before texting him again (most of the time...), not wanting to bug him while he was with his family, going through something.  

You weren’t one hundred percent sure what exactly it was they were going through because Yoongi’s updates were sparse on detail (like father, like son, apparently), but it was looking likely that you wouldn’t be seeing him again before the end of the year so it couldn’t have been good. It made you sad, that you wouldn’t see him over Christmas, that he had disappeared as the winter had arrived. Did the cold suit Yoongi? Did his cheeks get flushed and his nose turn pink? Did he like the cold weather? The dark and cosy nights?  

You supposed that that was it. That was what was making you miss him all the more: the cosiness of winter is a lot less cosy when you are spending it by yourself. Taehyung was there, sure, but it wasn’t the same. Yoongi was yours. You and he had your own little club; you were dark and twisty. Now you had to be dark and twisty all on your own. And so did he, miles and miles away. You hoped he wasn’t getting too dark and twisty, that things weren’t getting capital-B Bad down there, that his family were supporting him.  

You still didn’t know much about them, about his relationship with them. Yoongi played all his cards close to his chest, but these were on lockdown. You hadn’t known his grandparents were still alive. You weren’t sure exactly how many of them were. You hadn’t pushed him on it. It hadn't seemed to matter much before, though it certainly did now and you wished you had asked when you’d had the chance.  

It was less than 200 miles—not far, not really. You could easily get there and back in a day. But it stretched out long in front of you, this distance. Maybe it was healthy. Or rather, maybe it was unhealthy, your attachment to him. Maybe this would do you good, do your friendship good. It was just a break. Not even really a break—he was still at the other end of a phone. You’d spent so much time and effort getting to a place where you felt self-sufficient, independent, capable; if you couldn’t be those things without holding Yoongi’s hand, were you those things at all? 

You sighed and put your phone in your bag; it was easier not to think about it if it were out of sight. If only the same could be said of people.  

* 

It was weeks before you made your first visit to Yoongi’s almost empty apartment. Regardless of what you had said, it didn’t feel right to go there without him, to be in his space unsupervised. The thought of it made you miss him more, at first, but then he was away for longer and longer and you could no longer remember what his apartment smelt like. So you went.  

You opened the door and shucked off your shoes and jumped half a mile in the air when you looked up to see a tall, dark, and handsome stranger, looking at you with confusion writ large across his face. 

You laughed nervously, a relieved, breathy chuckle and you knew who it was immediately. You pointed at him. 

“Namjoon?” 

“Uh, yeah?” More confused than before. “You... are?” 

“Oh!”  

You introduced yourself, surprised that Yoongi hadn’t let him know you might be coming over (or maybe he just hadn’t believed that you would go). Namjoon responded to your name with a long, knowing ‘ah’. 

“What is ‘ahhh’? What does ‘ahhh’ mean?” 

Namjoon’s dimples made craters in his cheeks as he grinned widely.  

“Nothing! Honestly, nothing; Yoongi has told me about you, obviously. Wasn’t expecting to see you.” 

You didn’t believe him, but you did believe he meant well. He had a kind face, you thought, and he was looking after Yoongi’s cat on a potentially indefinite basis, so that gained him marks, too.  

At the sound of voices, Cherry had skittered, yowling, towards you, stopping with a skid in front of you and meowing plaintively. You crouched down and held out a hand to you, but she merely continued meowing. 

“Wow, she must like you; for me, she usually just disappears,” Namjoon said. “I think she hears people and thinks it might be Yoongi and she’s disappointed when it’s not. I think she misses him.” 

You looked up at Namjoon, aghast. 

“How can you just say that?! You’re going to break my whole, entire heart! Oh god, I’m going to cry!” 

You really almost were. You turned back to Cherry, who was sitting looking sadly at you, and scratched her head lightly. Namjoon chuckled. 

“Sorry.” 

There was a pregnant pause. 

“I guess you miss him, too, huh?” 

“Well, yeah, of course. But I do accept that Cherry has the greater claim to grief.”  

You stood and smoothed your trousers out with lightly sweaty palms. You didn’t usually feel this awkward around new people, but this was Yoongi’s person and you were in Yoongi’s place and he wasn’t there. You followed after Namjoon as he padded back into the living room, Cherry slinking softly behind. He offered you a drink and you hadn’t really intended to stay that long but it felt rude refusing. You made polite small talk and drank your drink quickly. 

“Well,” you began, putting your empty glass on the coffee table. “I came to hang out with Cherry and she has spent the whole time lying on Yoongi’s bed, so I guess I might as well go.” 

Namjoon chuckled and moved to stand in view of Yoongi’s bedroom. 

“Yeah,” he replied. “Yoongi left some laundry and I’ve been switching it out for her, so she always has something that smells like him, but I’m a little worried I’ll run out at this rate.” 

You stopped in your tracks. 

“Namjoon! What did I say about making me cry?!” 

You carried on until you, too, could see into his bedroom and there she was, curled up on a black T-shirt. Coming here was supposed to be comforting, a Yoongi booster, something to tide you over until he could come back, but now you missed him more than ever.  

Namjoon flung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you off-balance. 

“He’ll be back!” 

You couldn’t help falling into his side, letting your head drop. 

“Yeah, not soon enough.” 

[09:27]  You: Merry christmas, bambino!!!  

[09:27]  You: I hope you are able to have a nice day 

[09:28]   You: Remember to eat, drink, and BE MERRY!!!  

[09:28]  You: I miss you!!! 

[10:48]  Yoongi: Merry Christmas :) I hope you have a good day, too.  

[21:20]  Yoongi: I miss you, too 

You were in the supermarket with your mum and sister; they had sent you to find potato starch but instead, you found yourself staring blindly at a wall of breakfast cereals. Your mind was elsewhere and when you first heard your name being called, you assumed it was your family, about to chastise you for not being able to get even one thing right. Upon turning around, however, you saw a different familiar face. Chanmi, whom you met in your cooking classes, who also took the baking classes just like you did. She was newly married and wanted to stop her mother-in-law despairing over her lack of skill in the kitchen. If that hadn’t worked, you thought, the promise of a grandchild certainly would. 

“Hi!” she cried, stopping her trolley nexct to you. “How have you been?! It’s been so long!” 

“Yeah, it really has! Nine months, by the looks of it?” 

You laughed; she had barely been showing at the end of the classes and now, there was absolutely no hiding that she was very great with child. 

“Ugh, I know, I’m huge! She was due on Christmas day, actually; thank god that didn’t happen. I would not have wanted to spend all of Christmas in labour.” 

“Well, sure, but I’m not sure I’d want to spend all of any day in labour, to be honest. I don’t envy you.” 

“I’m in denial,” she said with a wave of her hand. “I know it has to happen but I’m just not thinking about it. I’m hoping she will hold out until New Year’s Eve, that way, when all the fireworks go off, I can scream as much as I like and no one will hear me.” 

You laughed again; you hadn’t kept in touch with anyone from the classes (except Yoongi) but it was nice to see her and nice to see that her life was working out, that she was happy, that things were going just as they were planned.  

“Well, you look amazing,” you told her. “Pregnancy suits you.” 

“That’s so sweet of you. But how are you? How are you and, I’m so sorry, I’ve forgotten his name, your boyfriend?” 

“Uh, I don’t have a boyfriend.” 

“Oh no, you broke up? I’m so sorry!” 

You were confused. You didn’t know who she could be talking about. It wasn’t San. Might she have meant Sungbin? Had you told her about that? You were frowning, trying to puzzle it out in your head and Chanmi spoke again. 

“I’m sorry; have I put my foot in it? I meant the guy in the baking classes with you? Is t-” 

“Yoongi?!” you exclaimed with more volume than was entirely necessary. 

“Yes! Yoongi, that was his name!-” 

“Oh my god, no, he is not my boyfriend!” 

“No?” 

“No! We met in the baking class!” 

It was Chanmi’s turn to lose control of her volume. 

“WHAT?” Her mouth gaped in disbelief. “You must be joking.” 

You shook your head. 

“You met in the baking classes? We all thought you were a couple!” 

“‘We all’? All of you thought we were together? Why?” 

“I don’t know, you just seemed so close. You had chemistry. Then there were the couple of times he didn’t show up and you seemed so upset, we assumed you must have had a fight or something. I don’t know; you just... looked like a couple. Sorry.” 

“No, no, it’s fine,” you replied, distracted now. “I just had no idea we looked like that.” 

She had blown your mind. You were sure you had told people when you started the classes that you had just been broken up with – you couldn’t shut up about it! You told anyone who would listen and some people who wouldn’t. She must have known. So how did Yoongi fit into that? Did she just forget?  

You and Yoongi? Taehyung had been making the same comments, albeit as jokes, for as long as you had known Yoongi and you hadn’t taken a single one of them seriously. And yeah, ok, you did sleep together, but that was a one-time thing, an aberration. Did you really look like a couple? Seem like a couple? Behave like a couple?  

* 

The thought plagued you for the rest of the day and into the next day, too. Your friendship with Yoongi was special, yes. It was different from your friendship with Taehyung, or any of the friendships you’d had before, yes. But it was still a friendship, wasn’t it? Just a friendship. You played films in your head, imagining the two of you in baking class, what you might have looked like to others. You played them again and again, from different angles, trying to see through different eyes. 

All of Taehyung’s jokes rattled around in your brain; he had just been being stupid and annoying. He wasn’t making a point. You didn’t think he was making a point anyway. He hadn’t been serious, at least. He didn’t actually think Yoongi should be your boyfriend. You were sure. You opened your phone and thought about texting him. Then you thought twice. You thought about texting Yoongi, almost as a test to prove that you were just friends. Then you thought twice because he had bigger issues to deal with. You scrolled your short list of contacts and found one that might help. 

[13:45]  You: Hey Taem! You remember Yoongi who I brought to Teddy’s Halloween party? 

[13:49]  Taem: sure, what about him? 

[13:50]  You: Did you think we were a couple? 

[13:51]  Taem: when I first saw you and you introduced me, yeah, I thought you might be. Why? 

[13:51]  You: do you think we COULD be a couple? 

[13:53]  Taem: why not? if that’s what you want 

[13:57]  You: no, I mean... did we seem like a couple? Like, do you think we like each other? If I’d said he was my boyfriend, would you have believed me? 

[13:58]  Taem: I don’t know, I mean.. Sure? I’d have believed you if you said he was your boyfriend, why wouldn’t I? What’s going on? 

[14:02]  You: nothing, sorry, it’s nothing.  

[14:02]  You: thank you 

[14:09]  You: I’m just confused I think 

With Yoongi away, you decided the best thing for it was to just shove all of that into a bag and shove that bag to the very back of your mind. You were friends. That’s all. If that ever changed, well, then you could get the bag back out and have a look at it and see what you thought. If. 

[00:00]  You: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx 

[00:00]  You: STILL MISS YOU!!!! I HOPE YOU ARE HAING FUN!! 

[00:01]  You: HavE A DRINK OR LOTS N MEEE1! 

[00:53]  Yoongi: my grandfather died 

[00:54]  You: FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCckkkkkkkk 

* 

[04:51]  You: are you ok? Shit, babe, I’m so sorry 

[04:51]  You: what a fucking terrible way to start the year 

[04:53]  Yoongi: yeah 

[04:53]  Yoongi: not exactly unexpected but not the best timing  

[04:53]  Yoongi: I guess it never is though 

[04:54]  You: 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 

[04:55]  You: let me know if I can do anything 

[04:56]  Yoongi: actually I would really like a hug 

[04:56]  You: 🏃🏃🏃 on my way 

Your mother had always taught you not to make decisions after 9pm or on an empty stomach. You hadn’t eaten since 8pm the previous night, nor had you slept, so 5am technically counted as after 9pm. Nevertheless, you were making a decision.  

You rolled into a taxi and stumbled into your apartment. You grabbed an overnight bag and threw in all the necessary items and then a random selection of clothing (whatever was closest and whatever was clean). The you taxi’d to the intercity bus station and got on the first bus to Daegu.  

It was a three-hour ride and you slept through the whole thing, which was just as well because, if you’d been conscious, you might have had time to second-guess this decision, to think better of it, to think it through at all. The driver politely nudged you awake at the Daegu bus terminal and you blinked, bleary-eyed and hungover, dry-mouthed and dry-eyed. You shuffled off the bus with your bag over your shoulder and headed straight to A Twosome Place where you downed one coffee and then another and ate three pastries.  

It didn’t feel right to just show up at Yoongi’s parents’ house in your present state (not to mention that you also had no idea where it was). You brushed your hair and your teeth in the terminal bathroom and washed your face, changed out of your New Year’s party outfit. There was then nothing else to do without getting in touch with Yoongi; you stood in the concourse, feeling a little foolish. 

Yoongi sat heavily in the chair at his parents’ dining table and sighed. It was littered with documents: letters, insurance paperwork, hospital paperwork, bank statements, pension statements, certificates for home ownership, car ownership, some appliance manuals for god knew what reason. Somehow, it had become his job to sort through them. To sort through everything. To organise a funeral, as if he had even the faintest idea how to do that. He couldn’t blame his father- he wasn’t blaming anyone; he just didn’t know how it ended up at his door.  

He rubbed his eyes and picked up a piece of paper; he didn’t expect any government offices to be open on new year’s day so he wasn’t entirely sure what he was supposed to be achieving, but he could try. 

* 

He dropped his head into his hands. It wasn’t as if he didn’t ever think about death, but it was different when it wasn’t his own, when it wasn’t hypothetical, when it was his own family falling apart around him because of it. He looked down at the bank statements in front of him, the pension claimed, the savings dwindling. It made him feel sick. It churned in his guts, this feeling like tar in his blood. He knew he hadn’t slept; he was overtired; he was emotional; it was a difficult time; but he also looked at all this paperwork and thought about how much better off his family would be if he were dead.  

He could sort all this out beforehand, get everything in order. Then he could die and everything would come to his parents. They would be set. No need to wait on him sending money each month; no need to work; they’d be taken care of. His sister, too, of course he’d provide for her. But then that would be it. There would be no obligation, no guilt, no awkwardness between him and his family.  

He took a deep breath. He had to take a break, but how, when he was the only person who would get this stuff done?  

His phone vibrated on the table next to him and he almost ignored it, but then he saw your name on the notification and it was in his hand in an instant. 

[11:02]  You: I'm here 

Yoongi rubbed his eyes. He looked back at previous messages and still didn’t understand what you were saying. He couldn’t believe you were here, as in, in Daegu. You were joking when you’d said you were on your way. He knew that, even though he hadn’t been joking when he said he wanted a hug. You must have meant that message for someone else.  

He put his phone back on the table, content to leave your message unanswered, but then he thought that you might not notice you sent it to the wrong person. He should reply. He looked at the blinking cursor and his mind was blank. He should ask something like, ‘did you mean to send that to me?’ or tell you that ‘I think you meant to send this to someone else’, but he didn’t have it in him. He didn’t want to know what you were doing, who you were meeting. His cup already overflowed with misery, loneliness, a dash of despair; he couldn’t miss you. Rather, he couldn’t engage with the fact that he did.  

There was guilt there, too. He knew he’d been a little quiet, a little distant with you. It was only half intentional. He didn’t want to know what he was missing, didn’t want to acknowledge his life back in Seoul; it made it so much harder to be here, amongst this, being thrown back in time only to find you no longer belonged—though part of him felt like he never did.  

His absence was all around him: in this house he bought but had never visited, in this neighbourhood he had never lived in, these streets he had never driven down. Daegu was a different place now; his family home wasn’t his family home anymore because it had been falling down around them until he bought them a new one, this one, new and bigger with all the mod-cons they could have asked for. He was sleeping in the spare bedroom – a spare bedroom. When he had last lived in this city, there weren’t enough bedrooms to go around and now they had extras.  

All Yoongi could see was the places where he should have fit in but didn’t. The world was so much bigger now than it had been but there still wasn’t a place for him here. 

He kept you, the thought of you, like a secret, and then he let it eat at him at night, when he lay in the spare bed and couldn’t sleep. He looked at his phone, the screen lighting up his face in the dark, and waited for you to message. Occasionally you did. Mostly you didn’t. He knew that was his fault, too; he hadn’t replied so why would you? But he looked all the same; he felt sad and pathetic when he checked your instagram again, unable to decide if he wanted you to have posted or if he wanted you not to have; the twist in his guts was sharp and long-lasting.  

Right at that moment, he knew you’d be better off without him, too. But first he at least had to text you back. 

[11:14]  Yoongi: what? 

Yoongi couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He knew that view; he knew that building; he knew where that was but you weren’t serious. This was a weird joke; it had to be.  

[11:17]  Yoongi: you’re in Daegu? 

[11:17]  You: new year’s day special: one hug, same day delivery for the low price of Nothing, It’s Absolutely Free 

With his phone in both hands, he knocked his forehead against it, his eyes squeezed shut against the sting of tears, his jaw clenched. His heart was hiccuping in his chest. So you had come. You had come to Daegu. Because he had said he wanted a hug. You had come almost 200 miles. To see him.  

He took in a deep breath, the biggest lungful he could manage, and then he blew it sharply out again. 

[11:25]  Yoongi: I’ll come and pick you up. Give me twenty minutes or so 

[11:25]  You: no need!  

[11:25]  You: I can get a taxi!  

[11:25]  You: I just need your address 

Yoongi didn’t reply. He didn’t read your messages because he was already putting his phone in his pocket and walking towards the door.  

He took a moment, once he was sitting in his car, to take another deep breath. This felt complicated and confusing and he was overwhelmed. He wanted to sit in a dark, quiet room. He wanted to get in his car, pick you up, and just keep driving. All the way to the coast maybe.  

Then he thought about the beach and that day and he changed his mind. To the north-east perhaps. The forested hills of the Taebaek mountains could hide you both for a while. That might be nice. Everything here felt like too much but the trees and the hills and the coastline, that he thought he could manage. 

He sighed and turned on the ignition, pulling smoothly into the road on his way to you. 

* 

You tapped your phone nervously. Yoongi hadn’t responded at all. You couldn’t go anywhere without some kind of confirmation from him: that he was coming or that he wasn’t. Your messages were unread. There was nothing you could do but wait. Wait and feel a little bit sicker with every minute that passed; your nerves were starting to get the better of you. Your stomach sank lower and your heart fell with it. You should not have come, you saw that now. What Yoongi didn’t need right now was a house guest. What Yoongi didn’t need was someone else to consider, to take into account; what Yoongi didn’t need was you, once again, inserting yourself into his (someone else’s) business. Like you always did.  

It wasn’t about you. It shouldn’t have been about you, but there you were, hungover and probably still stinking of booze, making Yoongi leave his grieving family to come and pick you up. Making it about you. You groaned and put your head in your hands, in half a mind to just get on the next bus back to Seoul. 

And all that was not to mention the bag of feelings you had shoved to the back of your mind. You didn’t know what to expect when you saw Yoongi again. It felt mad to expect that anything would be different just because someone had confused the two of you for a couple; you didn’t know how that could have changed anything but you were scared that it had. Scared that this was a mistake and that you were going to make more, that you were going to ruin this, even without knowing how.  

Your phone buzzed. 

[11:57]  Yoongi: I’m here. There’s a pick-up zone; I’m parked there. 

The relief almost made you cry. 

You jogged to the car park and spotted him immediately. You knocked on his window and made him get out of the car so you could hug him properly. Your chest felt tight and you closed your eyes, praying you wouldn’t cry, holding on to him as tightly as you possibly could. He held you just the same. Your heart swelled and broke at the same time. It was so good to be back with him and so bad for it to be in these circumstances. 

“Are you ok?” you asked, your voice muffled in his scarf.  

You felt him nod. 

It was you who eventually pulled back and then an awkward silence fell between you. 

“One hug!” you said. “Delivered as promised.” 

“Yeah.” Yoongi attempted a chuckle and rubbed his neck. “I guess you can go back to Seoul now.” 

“Oh, I- yeah, I mean, I can go back, if you want me to go back-” 

“No. I mean, you don’t have to stay, if you don’t want.” 

“Well I can stay, but I don’t want to be a nuisance-” 

“You’re not.” 

“Ok... Uh, so... I’ll stay then?” 

Yoongi nodded and ducked back into the car.  

You looked at him as he drove; he looked pale and tired and skinnier than he had been. He hadn’t been taking care of himself and you knew it was because he was too busy trying to take care of everyone else; that was who he was. But you were there now. You could be a care-taker, too. You might not have had the experience, but you wanted it. You were capable now. You didn’t have to be taken care of anymore, not like before, so it was time to pass it forward properly. That was your task here, that was all. This wasn’t about you, you repeated to yourself. Everything else can go back to the corner you shoved it in for now. It was so not the time. 

* 

Yoongi pulled up to a large house and parked on the road. There were three cars in the driveway. He took your bag and led you up to the door. He opened it silently and slipped off his shoes, not announcing his return or your arrival, but his mother called from somewhere else in the house. 

“Yoongi! Where have you been?” Her voice was getting closer and she soon appeared in the hallway from a room to the left. “Oh, who’s this? Is this your girlfriend?” 

Yoongi took a steeling breath. 

“No, I don’t have a girlfriend.” 

“You don’t? I thought she was a model?” 

“No, we broke up months ago. I told you.” 

“Oh, well who’s this?” 

Yoongi introduced you and you put your best foot forward. 

“It’s nice to meet you; I’m so sorry it’s under such circumstances. I’m sorry for your loss. I’m here to help in any way I can—put me to work!” 

His mother was already distracted, looking to her right; you weren’t sure if she was listening. 

“Could you put some tea on?” she asked, turning sharply to you. 

Yoongi frowned and you could see him open his mouth, so you jumped in. 

“Yeah of course! I’m sure Yoongi can help me find everything, right?” 

You grabbed hold of his sleeve and gave it a light tug. He moved forward and led you to the kitchen. 

It was expansive, with chrome fittings and granite worktops and a double-sink the size of your coffee table. It was bright and modern and so different from what you had expected. You realised that your expectations had been coloured by Yoongi’s childhood, that you were expecting them to still be poor, but of course, they weren’t. Yoongi had seen to that. 

This was a beautiful house, with a large entry way and tiled floors and both a breakfast bar and a dining table. It was the sort of house you fantasised about growing up in as a kid. You wondered how Yoongi felt about it. All this comfort and convenience that he had bought his family. You hoped it made him proud, made him happy that he could do things like this for his family. He should be proud; this house was nothing short of a show-home. Nothing looked out of place, even now, with everything going on. There were no dishes in the sink, no plates or cups left on the sides, nothing lying around waiting to be put away.  

Yoongi indicated which cupboards held what you needed and he filled the kettle. There wasn’t awkwardness between you anymore but there was something. He felt far away. You didn’t know how people dealt with grief, or even death—is it grief when it’s still so close?—and were lucky that you had never had to, but you felt ill-equipped now. Ill-equipped and self-conscious. Of course he wasn’t going to be alone; it wasn’t going to just be the two of you. That was obvious, but you had managed to forget it and you felt inhibited by the presence of his family, everywhere in this house, despite the almost clinical neatness of it. There was no Yoongi there. It wasn’t like his apartment at all. 

You busied yourself with the tea and pushed him out of the way as he tried to do it for you. 

“You don’t have to make tea, you know,” he said, quietly. 

“I said I was here to help and if making tea helps, then I’ll make tea. It’s ok.” 

* 

The next few days were confusing and draining. You had put your foot down and insisted you would stay in a hotel, so as not to put them out; Yoongi had retaliated by putting his foot down and paying for a room in a far fancier hotel than any you would have picked. You tried to be of use, and if not of use, then at least out of the way. This meant you spent most of your time entertaining Yoongi’s niece and nephew; this was easier on the third day, when it snowed, and you made snow animals in the garden and pushed them on taboggans down the hill.  

You didn’t see all that much of Yoongi; the only times you were alone was when he picked you up in the morning and dropped you back at night. You didn’t talk much—he didn’t. You, on the other hand, found that you couldn’t stop.  

“Sorry, I can’t stop talking,” you said on Tuesday as he stopped at a traffic light. “I know I’m being annoying. I just can’t shut up; I feel like I haven’t spoken to you forever.” 

“No, it's ok. I’m sorry I’m not talking more; I’m just tired.” 

“As long as I’m not bothering you.” 

“No. I like listening to you talk.” 

“Ok, then. Good.” 

* 

The funeral took place on Friday; Yoongi explained that it might be more traditional than you were used to. You had never been to any funerals so you had no expectations anyway. You had been tasked with making all the food, for an undetermined number of guests that Yoongi couldn’t guess at and no one else would tell you. You cobbled together an outfit with things borrowed from his sister. You felt out of place. You didn’t feel like you had any right to be there when you went with them to his grandparents’ house, when you watched him and his dad and his uncles carry his grandfather’s coffin out of the grounds, when his father trod on the earth above his father, when his uncle spoke eloquently about what his life had been and meant.  

You hadn’t expected to be moved. You had rather hoped that you wouldn’t be. You were there to be a pillar of strength and support but there was weeping all around you and sadness and grey skies full of snow and you sniffled quietly to yourself, letting your tears fall as gently as you could. A hand snuck into yours, ice-cold fingers pressing into your palm. You turned to look at Yoongi as he continued to stare straight ahead. You squeezed back. 

* 

When he cut the engine outside your hotel that night, he slumped in his seat with his head tipped back. He sighed.  

“Why don’t you come up for a drink or something?” you offered.  

You were exhausted, so you had no idea how he was hanging on. He was already shaking his head but you cut him off. 

“Come on, just a quick one. You look done in, my love. You look like you could use one.” 

He gave in with no further fight and drove around the back of the building to the car park.  

* 

You kicked off your shoes and Yoongi followed you in, sitting heavily down on the bed, staring at his shoes. 

“Come on,” you said, pushing his jacket off his shoulders and loosening his tie. He let you do it, let you lift his arms to get them out of the sleeves, let you slip the tie from under the shirt collar. He watched you, thoughtless, as you knelt down in front of the mini bar and picked a little bottle of whiskey. You dumped it into a glass and handed it to him. 

“Do you want ice? I can get ice,” you offered. 

He shook his head and then tipped it back, downing the drink in one. He didn’t need ice. He needed at least six more of these so he could pass the fuck out. That scraped-out feeling rang in him, hollow, resounding, all his surfaces scratched and sticky with guilt and misery.  

He leant his whole body backwards, flopping onto his back.  

“You know I haven’t been back here since I left?” 

“What, Daegu?” 

“Mm.” 

“Since you left at 18?” 

“Yep.” 

“Wow.” 

“I know.” 

“Not to see your sister’s kids?” 

He closed his eyes. It brought a sour taste to his mouth, acidic and stringent and metallic. 

“No,” he admitted. “I know. That makes me a horrible person.” 

“No, it doesn’t. That’s a long time to be away, though.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Do you wish you’d come back earlier?” 

“No.” 

“I guess this isn’t the best time to come back, is it? Not a happy time. If you come back again later, it’ll be better.” 

You joined him on the bed. You lay next to him and took his hand. It was warm. He could smell your perfume. 

The sigh he heaved next could’ve rumbled the very earth. He knew you were giving him space, to breathe, to think, to gather his thoughts. You were a motor-mouth; that was the very first thing he had learnt about you. You talked all the time, but you always gave him time to think. You didn’t rush him or push him or even comment on his quietness, his hesitation.  

He shook his head because he couldn’t think about you at this moment. He had just about managed to keep that door shut while you had been here because there was so much to do and so much to busy himself with, but now it was just the two of you and you were holding his hand and giving him space and he needed to fill it. With something.  

With another sigh of resignation and an inhale to steel himself, he decided to say the other things he didn’t want to talk about.  

“Coming back has reminded me why I left. I think the money was just an excuse; it gave me a legitimate reason to leave but I think I would have found a way out somehow. Any way. No matter what. Even in a body bag.”  

“Babe...” 

“We really had nothing, y’know? When I was growing up. We had nothing and I was so angry. I hated my parents so much because they couldn’t provide; they couldn’t be what parents were supposed to be. They didn’t do what parents were supposed to do. I was responsible for myself almost as soon as I started school. I was cooking dinner for the whole family every night before I was in high school. That’s not a kid’s role. Kids shouldn’t have to do that.  

“On my drive down here, I felt it all again. The anger. The resentment. I had to pull over and stop for a while to calm down or else I’d have turned the car into oncoming traffic.” 

He’d started so he had to finish but he needed another second. He wasn’t used to saying these things out loud. It made it easier that it was you. It made it harder that it was you. 

“I suppose I'm a black sheep,” he said eventually. “I thought they would never forgive me for leaving, for doing what I wanted to do when they had no choices. I don’t know if they have. I’m not... I’m not really a part of it anymore and that’s my fault; I understand that I removed myself. I got away. I got out. I did what I wanted. Coming back here and facing that, facing them... I’ve been a coward. All this time I stayed away, it’s because I was scared to come back and see what they thought of me.” 

“They love you.” 

“No. I’m not sure they do.” 

“Yoongi.” 

You very rarely took that tone with him, the one that said you weren’t playing and he shouldn’t be either. He couldn’t even think of arguing with you at that moment. He changed the subject.  

“Can I have another drink?” he asked.  

You stood wordlessly and retrieved another little bottle, poured it again into his glass. He drank it in one as he had the first and you returned to his side. There was one thing he still really wanted to say, that was weighing heavily on his chest at that moment, but he knew you wouldn’t want to hear it, knew you would say he was wrong. 

As he felt his eyelids droop and sleep begin to tug at him, he realised he had to get it out, before this moment passed and he wouldn’t be able to step into this territory again. 

“I just really want to kill myself today.”  

You turned on your side, curling into him, and pressed a kiss to his temple. 

“I’m not going to let you,” you whispered. 

“I know.” 

* 

Yoongi fell asleep quickly after that and you did not. You watched him sleep for a while, making sure he was still breathing, as if there were a chance he might just will himself dead. You, admittedly, didn’t know anything about his family but you couldn’t understand how he could suggest that they didn’t love him, that he was a black sheep, that he didn’t belong here. Their house, their cars, the things they had, the three jobs they didn’t have anymore... He hadn’t just given them things; he had given them freedom; he had given them security and stability. Not all people are good at showing gratitude or expressing themselves, but he had to know they were grateful. They had to be grateful, right? 

The minutes ticked by and you were still watching him sleep. You resisted the urge to brush a strand of hair out of his face. You resisted the urge to trace his lips with your finger. You hadn’t had a chance to interrogate yourself, to notice what you were feeling until now. Now that he was asleep, his mouth just slightly ajar, his eyebrows pressed together, you could really look at him. You could really look inwards at yourself.  

You didn’t want to ask yourself if you had overlooked him. You didn’t want to wonder what you might have been missing, not seeing, not noticing. It had been a tumultuous year and you were so proud of yourself for getting to where you were now; you didn’t want to find out you had still been getting something wrong.  

Had you? Was it really wrong to think that you and Yoongi were just friends? What did he think?  

It came back to you again, that thought. That thing that you had been trying to remind yourself of but also occasionally using as a weapon to beat yourself with: it’s not about you. All this time, it had been about you. You were recovering from a break-up, you were seeing someone, you were being broken-up with again, you you you you you. Where had Yoongi been in all this? Right by your side, of course, but where had he been in your consideration? He was recovering from a break-up, too. He had problems, too. He understood you and you had clung to that, sometimes for your very life. You felt your neediness begin to leak out your pores like oil, slick and staining and all over you. You could almost see it spill towards him, a contaminant, making you his problem, too, all your problems his, all your neediness his to carry.  

You got off the bed and changed into your pyjamas; you washed your make-up off and brushed your teeth. You took your time so that you could be distracted and then you ran out of things to do. You looked at Yoongi, still passed out halfway down the bed, his shoes still on. You took them off for him; you undid his belt and pulled it through the loops; you considered him and wondered if you could pull him up the bed without waking him.  

“What are you doing?” he mumbled, voice low and slurred with sleep as you grabbed him by the armpits and tried to pull him towards the head of the bed. 

“Sorry! Sorry, I’m just trying to make you comfortable?” 

You were standing over him, crouched on the pillow on his side of the bed, doing your best to let your weight do all the moving for you. Yoongi sat up and turned around to frown at you, his eyes narrow and the hair at the back of his head mussed. You moved out of the way and he shuffled himself backwards, lying back down with his head properly on the pillow. You settled next to him and he was still frowning at you.  

“Sorry,” you repeated, an embarrassed giggle let slip. 

Yoongi shrugged and turned on his side to face you. 

“Is it ok if I stay here?” he asked, already closing his eyes again and getting comfortable. 

“Duh.” 

* 

You woke earlier than usual and were unable to get back to sleep. What you did not want was more time alone with your thoughts. Definitely not time alone with your thoughts in bed next to Yoongi who was sleeping with a sweet pout on his face and giving you all kinds of confused feelings.  

You picked up your phone and started looking at bus times back to Seoul. You didn’t know if Yoongi would be returning now, or soon, but it felt like the right time for you to leave. ‘Family emergenices’ only get you so much time off work and yours was running out. And you felt like you had to be in Seoul to think things through; that was where you life was; that was where your friendship with Yoongi was; you couldn’t make any conclusions away from home. It didn’t make sense. 

* 

Yoongi slept for a long time. You let him, because he had looked so tired and clearly needed the rest, but you were starting to feel claustrophobic in the room, claustrophobic in your determination to not think about things. You hated the thought of him waking up and thinking you’d left him, but you had to get out.  

You scribbled a note, left it on your pillow and got the fuck out of there. The air was cold and fresh; even the wind, bitter and stinging, felt good. You took deep breaths and tried to follow the map on your phone to a café.  

You reached it but it wasn’t open for another twenty minutes, which meant twenty more minutes in which you had nothing to do but think your thoughts. Desperate to get them out of you somehow, you did something you were almost certain you would regret. 

[10:38]  You: Teddy 

[10:38]  You: what if I have feelings for Yoongi? 

[10:39]  You: Do NOT call me  

[10:39]  You: I CANNOT talk about this 

[10:39]  You: I just,.. 

[10:39]  You: I don’t know 

[10:39]  You: what if I do? 

[10:45]  Teddy 🐻: I don’t know what I can say if you don’t want to talk about it 

[10:45]  Teddy 🐻: but babygirl you are a catch and he’d be lucky to have you 

[10:45]  Teddy 🐻: don’t have a crisis rn. Come home and then you can have one, ok? 

[10:45]  Teddy 🐻: 😚😚😚 

You sighed. You didn’t know what you were expecting him to say, or wanted him to say, but somehow, it wasn’t that. 

* 

You trudged back to the hotel with coffees in hand (one iced for Yoongi; one hot, but rapidly cooling, for you). Yoongi was half-pushed-up when you walked in, having been woken by the sound of the door. It made your stomach flip how small and cute he looked: still pouty, his face a little smushed from the pillow, his hair messy and on-end. He looked at you, trying to place himself, and then you saw his eyes flick to the coffee in your hand and alight there. 

“Yes, I got one for you.” 

He flipped onto his back with a satisfied groan and a long stretch. 

“Thank you.” 

You placed the cup onto the bedside table next to him and he took it immediately, pushing himself into a sitting position and leaning against the headboard. He took a long drink. 

“This is good. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. Um, do you need to let your family know where you are? Will they be worried?” 

He shook his head, the quiet satisfaction slipping from it, a tight mask taking its place. 

“No, they won’t. It’ll be fine.” 

You didn’t want to argue with him. You changed the subject. 

“How did you sleep?”  

He nodded as he took another long draw of coffee through the straw. 

“Good, actually.” Then he looked at his phone and grimaced. “Oh, late, too, haha.” 

“I thought it would be better to let you sleep in, catch up a little. Should I have woken you?” 

“No, no, it’s ok. The urgent work is done, I suppose.” He paused, still looking at his phone. “I guess this means I can leave?” 

“I was planning to go back today, actually. I figured I’d get out of everyone’s hair-” 

“You’re not in anyone’s hair.” 

“Well, you know what I mean. I don’t want to overstay my welcome or make a nuisance of myself. I know I’m very good at inserting myself into other people’s business but even I have some sense of manners and propriety.” 

There was a small pause as Yoongi continued to drink his coffee and stare straight ahead. Then he looked straight at you. 

“I want you in my business. I like having you in my business.” 

The nervous laugh that tried to bubble up from your throat got trapped there, and you choked, your cheeks flushing. You were the one who had to look away. 

“Don’t encourage me, babe. You know I don’t need much!”  

You forced your laugh, then, had to make it a joke. Yoongi’s sincerity was unpredictable and disarming at all times, but it was affecting you particularly strongly now.  

“If you want to go, just let me know when and I’ll take you to the bus.” 

You had opened your mouth to respond but he beat you to it. 

“No, wait, you can come back with me. I’ll be driving anyway.” 

“Today?” 

He nodded. 

“Are you sure? You don’t need to stay longer?” 

He was resolute as he shook his head and drained the last of the coffee from his cup. 

“That was quick.” 

He grinned. 

“Yeah, want to get another one? I have to go back to the house and clean up anyway, so we can stop on the way.” 

“You go,” you answered. “I’ll pack and get sorted here. I’m sure you have stuff to sort out and want time to say your goodbyes and stuff.” 

Yoongi shrugged and got out of bed.  

* 

He came back to pick you up later that afternoon. You were anxious at the prospect of three hours in the car with him; you were not skilled at keeping your thoughts and feelings to yourself, but he was the one person you really didn’t feel like you could talk to about this. 

‘Hey, Yoongi, it’s possible that I’m discovering I have romantic feelings for you; what do you think about that?’ 

‘Hey, Yoongi, y’know how I said ages ago that I just wanted to be friends? What if I was wrong and I've actually changed my mind?’ 

‘Hey, Yoongi, quick question: do you think we should be together?’ 

Impossible.  

* 

“Are you ok?” he asked, somewhere around Chungju. 

“Yeah, I’m fine! Are you ok?” 

“Yeah. You’re just... quiet, that’s all.” 

“Oh, no, uh, no I’m fine.” 

“Sorry. I know it’s annoying to be told you’re being ‘quiet’; I get it all the time. Yeah, I am quiet sometimes, y’know? Leave me alone. But... You’re not quiet. Not usually.” 

The weight of his words hit you because you knew what he meant, what he was referring to; you knew that you were at your quietest when you were at your worst. Or maybe that wasn’t what he was referring to, but it leapt into your mind all the same.  

“I’m ok.” 

You toyed with the idea of saying something, not the thing, but circling it, making the smallest inroads into that conversation. You thought about probing him about his family a little more, pushing him to say a bit more about it, to explain why he seemed to feel so bad about them. You wanted to know because you wanted to tell him he was wrong; you didn’t want him to feel excluded from his family, or unloved, or devalued, or unforgiven—even if it might possible be true. You would love, value, and forgive him enough for the lot of them.  

“Do you think Cherry will be happy to see you?” you asked instead. 

He smiled, a genuine, happy smile. 

“She had better be.” 

Chapter Seven | Masterlist | Chapter Nine tags: @chimmisbae, @idkjustlovingbts @miriamxsworld, @quarter-life-crisis2, @tarahardcore, @simp47koreancrackheads, @xyahrinx, @olyd, @diorh0seokie, @thelilbutifulthings

[ithinkabouttzu]

Hey can could you ship me with TXT pls?💞 I am an INTP and a Cancer (I don’t necessarily believe in zodiac or MBTI, but I do find it kind of interesting, and there are some similarities between my actual personality and my Government Assigned Personality Types™ so that’s why I listed them lol.) I am 4’11 and I am currently getting my masters degree so I can become a librarian (I already work in a library I just don’t have my library science degree yet). I already have my bachelors degree in writing and I hope to become an author one day. I prefer to drive a motorcycle rather than a car. The weather doesn’t matter I will literally drive my motorcycle in the middle of a tornado; I really, REALLY hate driving cars. I also do aerial silks and a kind of ‘out there’ dream of mine is to join Cirque du Soleil, but I don’t think I will ever be that good. I am very shy and introverted, and I’m not very talkative, even when you really get to know me; I am definitely more of a listener. I used to be a dancer for about 10 years before I decided to take up aerial silks. I like to sing as well, and I have been told that I’m good, but I don’t know if I believe it lol. I also love animals, I used to foster animals for a local rescue before I got my dog. (I fostered around 30 cats and dogs for that rescue.) I also used to dogsit before I got my library job. I own two cats and a dog. I am kind of a tsundere in that I seem cold and quiet, but I really do care about people, I just have my own way of showing it. I am really bad at expressing my feelings, and I will usually show I care about people by buying them things or showing them pictures of my animals 😅. My love languages are definitely gift giving and quality time. That’s all I can think about that’s interesting about me, sorry it’s so long… thx in advance for the ship 🖤🖤

I thank you for your request lovely! 💗

I ship you With….

Choi Beomgyu!

Song recommendation: Name - Justin Bieber (feat. Tori Kelly)

- Let me tell you how COOL he would find you LIKE OMG, he would be so proud to have you as his bae 😌

- I think he would definitely be the one to make the first move, he would he all confident and try his absolute hardest to charm you LOL

- Please please please drive him around on a motorcycle at least once, if you do i swear he’ll love you forever

- He finds the height difference between you two so cute, like whenever you guys are out he can just wrap his arm around you and feel like he can protect you 🥹

- I think y’all would be a very attractive couple that kinda comes off cold at first but then like they’re super nice once you get to know them?!

- omg once he finds out you do aerial silks he would probably be in AWE like how are you so freakin cool?? i feel like he’d want to try to do it once you’ve finished LMAO

- Appreciates it so much when you buy him gifts, like sometimes gyu needs his princess treatment and he loves it so much when you spoil him with gifts 😭

- Some nights, Beomgyu will just talk all night to you about everything and you’ll just be sitting there like 🥹 bc you’re such a good listener he feels so comfortable just telling you everything about his day!

- When you feel comfortable enough, he would love to hear you sing in front of him, i know he would love your voice and maybe even want to do a duet with you at some point 😏

- But he would love you and just love hanging out with you so so much!!! Y’all would get along so nice together and would be such an amazing couple oml

Thank you so much for requesting lovely i hope you enjoy! <333 🤍🤎

[finelinevogue]

Hi.. can i ask a blurb about harry asking his gf to Live with him in his house even knowing they are not so long together? Thanks 🤎

hello!!! of course you can, here you go;

Twisting the key through the keyhole, you were finally home.

Home wasn't your apartment downtown. Home wasn't your parents house, at least not any more. Home wasn't even this house. Home, was the person that you knew was inside waiting for you to walk through the door.

As always, the first push of the door open Chip came bounding towards you. The tiny black Labrador skid across the tiled floors of the hallway and jumped up in happiness when he saw you. Due to your routine being so scheduled, he always knew what time to be at the door for ready for you to come through.

"Hello again, mister." You crouched down, not even having shut the door yet. Your attention was undivided towards Chip and you didn't mind one bit.

Harry on the other hand was eager to get you out of the bitter cold and in to some place warmer, so he had to cut the fun.

"Chip, c'mere." He spoke firmly, but with an undertone of that softness you knew he always had.

Harry was walking down the corridor and Chips' first sight of his owner made him bound down the other end of the hallway, towards Harry. This allowed you to get in, shut and lock the door.

Before you could get your coat of yourself, Harry took it off for you and hung it up on the rail where all of his other coats were. He did allow you to slip off your shoes by yourself, before you neatly put them on the shoe rack Harry had built for himself - hence why it was lopsided.

Chip was still dancing around both of your feet, as you and Harry got close.

"Welcome home." Harry smiled at you and you ethereal beauty, cupping the back of your neck to bring you closer towards him.

The moment your lips touched his, you were home. They tasted sweet, like roses and sherbet. His lips were the colour of love. Kissing him felt like holding on to your forever. After a busy day of work, he was the only one you wanted to come back to so a forever kiss sounded kind of perfect.

"Mm." You leaned back a bit, letting hit lips go with a soft smack, "That was nice."

"Come home to me every night and that's what you can expect." He whispered, pulling you back for another kiss. This time he didn't care to be smooth, he wanted all of you. He pushed himself as close to you as possible and allowed himself to be immersed in you. Your scent, your taste and your very being sent him into overdrive and he completely lost in his love for you.

You and Harry had only been together for a mere 3 months, but it already felt like a lifetime. A lifetime in a good way. In the way that you couldn't wait to decorate a new room together and buy new furniture together, or book a holiday together and even garden together. Both of you wanted that, but you were also so scared to move in so quickly after first dating.

The "6 months honeymoon period" that everyone goes on about had not finished yet and you would hate for all these amazing feelings to end then, and be bound to living with him forever. You were certain your heart would keep Harry forever and Harry was sure his would keep you, so it was a wonder to everyone why you hadn't already moved in together yet.

Pulling away from him again, you smiled and moved your head to lean in to the crook of his neck. Your arms snaked around his neck too and you made sure to give him a big hug. Your love language was touch as was Harry's, so it was no wonder you two were so smitten with one another.

"You had a good day?" You asked, still pressed to his body in a warm embrace.

"It was okay. I had some people to meet and papers to sign. Y'know, the usual."

You felt his hands rub against your back, warming you up from that outside cold still. One of his warm hands, snuck underneath your jumper and warmed you skin to skin. You sighed at the heavenly contact.

"Sounds boring." You chuckled, saying it truthfully for what it was.

"Too right." He laughed, pulling back from you to meet you eye to eye. "Which is why I made you your favourite dish for dinner, to get me off m'arse and do something useful."

"You made spaghetti lasagne?" The smile on your face couldn't be wider.

"Twice, actually. The first time Chip nearly caught fire."

"I'm not even going to ask." You shook your head and walked in the direction of the kitchen.

The kitchen smelt divine. The smells of tomatoey pasta and garlic bread and cheese was enough to make your stomach full already. It was pure bliss. The dishes looked like they had already been washed and there was just a dish on the side which looked like it had just come out of the oven. Two plates were already set at the kitchen island, where two red wine glasses were poured also.

"This okay?" Harry asked, from behind you.

"Is this okay?" You were lost for words. "Harry, it's perfect. You're perfect." You turned and pulled him towards you so you could gift him a big kiss. He was so taken aback by your forwardness he nearly missed the chance to kiss you back, but he caught you in the end.

"I proper like you, Y/N." He said as he moved back, kissing your nose and your forehead just because he could.

"Well, I proper like you too." You acknowledged.

"Now let's eat. I'm starving." Harry pushed you towards the kitchen island, pulling out the bar stool for you before going over to retrieve the pasta dish.

When he brought it over you could feel the warmth spreading from the dish and the glorious smells only intensified. He next brought over the garlic bread, which he admitted was shop bought because he was no Gordon Ramsay. He kissed you on the top of the head each time he came back over to you, making your heart burst internally over how much you loved him.

"Does Chip have his food?" You asked.

"I fed him just before you came back. The little fella exhausted himself at the park today so wanted food a little earlier."

"You're a good dad."

Harry kissed you on the lips for that comment alone, not caring that it was sloppy and messy.

"I like it when you say things like that." He admitted when you asked him what that particular kiss was for.

At last, Harry came and sat beside you. His knees were touching yours, both of you sat slightly facing towards each other rather than directly forwards. He cut up the pasta dish and handed you a slice of the spaghetti lasagne, whilst you helped yourself to the salad he had made. He had made it without fresh tomatoes too, because he knew that you didn't like them even though he does. Adding a few pieces of garlic bread to your plate you were ready to eat.

"Did you cry whilst cutting the onions today?" You asked.

"Obviously." Harry rolled his eyes, hating how well you knew him sometimes.

You cut up a bit of the pasta and let the sauce hit your tongue first. At first contact you moaned over how good it tasted. It was so warm and tomatoey. It had all the flavours that reminded you of home. It was exactly what you wanted to come home to at the end of a long day and you'd never understand how Harry knew that. You closed your eyes as you ate the first bite, soaking in the pleasures of all the tastes.

"Oh my God, you do treat me good H." You nodded your head.

"Tasty, huh?" He chuckled, eating a mouthful himself and feeling pretty chuffed.

"Tastes just like my grandma used to make it."

"Well I did have to call her after the first one went wrong. She gave me a special ingredient too." He winked, knowing that it would bug you that you grandma gave him the secret ingredient and not you.

You both sat in comfortable silence whilst you ate your meals, neither of you wanting to speak as you enjoyed the food in front of you. Only after you'd finished half of your food did you ask.

"So, what is all of this buttering me up in aid of?" You asked, taking another sip of you red wine.

Harry smirked and shook his head, thinking, again, of just how well you knew him.

"Maybe I just wanted to treat m'girlfriend to one night of comfort food."

"The first time you made me spaghetti lasagne, you asked me to be your girlfriend and the second time was because you had reversed my car into the garage. I don't know which way it's going to swing this time, but lay it on me." You swung yourself round in the stool, facing him fully. He turned the same, wiping his tomato stained mouth with a napkin.

Harry cleared his throat before speaking, "How would you feel about moving in with me? Permanently." He looked at you apprehensively.

"Move in? With you?"

"That's the idea, yes."

"Oh," You cleared your throat this time, "Harry, I..." You answered nervously and unknowingly.

"No, sorry, it's my bad. Forget I asked." Harry furrowed his eyebrows, confused at how you couldn't have said yes so quickly. If you had asked him he would have said yes in less than a heartbeat. He turned his chair around, facing entirely forwards so he could finish his dinner.

"Harry..."

"It's fine, Y/N."

"But..."

"I said it's fine." He sharply spoke, before getting up out of his stool and walking over to the fridge to get a cold glass of water that he had been refrigerating. He stayed over there for a bit of time and you wondered whether he was even going to come back, sure that you'd just ruined what was setting up to be a perfect evening.

You got out of your stool and walked over to him, standing directly in front of him. He didn't look at you - his eyes remaining to the floor.

"Harry. Will you look at me please?" You asked, but just as you expected he shook his head in defiance. "I don't not want to move in with you, I'm just scared to." You truthfully told him.

His eyes flickered to yours momentarily, then back, then back to yours again. "Why?"

"I-I don't know whether I s-should say it yet?" You asked yourself more than him, furrowing your eyebrows as you tried to work it out.

"Say what?" Harry asked, looking at you intensely now and already thinking the worst from this situation. Were you about to leave him? Let him know something was wrong? Someone was unwell?

"It's... I.."

"What, Y/N? Say what?" He pressed.

So you burst.

"That I love you!" You shouted out, your chest heaving as you did so from the exhilaration of it all. "I fucking love you and I'm terrified of how strongly I feel that way. I'm terrified of losing you and this feeling. I'm scared that I'll move in with you and never want to find home anywhere else, because home isn't this fucking building and these walls. Home is you, Harry. That's terrifying to me. The thought of waking up and you're not there anymore, scares me more than I care to admit. I'm sorry."

The tears in your eyes couldn't be stopped then. Your whole body shook after your confession, making you feel both free, but also vulnerable.

You didn't know what Harry was going to say or when, but it felt nice when his whole body encompassed yours and hugging you so tightly that you could burst.

"C'mere. Hey, it's okay. You're okay." He repeated.

One of his hands rubbed your back comfortingly, the way he knew you loved, whilst the other cupped the back of your head for support. He made sure you were close to him, so you could feel his heartbeat in effort to help calm you down.

“I’m sorry.” You kept on repeating, feeling like a complete idiot right bow.

“You have nothing to apologise for, baby. Nothing.” He emphasised. “Will you look at me please? Y/N, sweetheart?”

You tilted your head back and Harry’s soft fingers made sure to wipe your tears away. He hated seeing you sad, but he did understand exactly how you felt.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly and Harry chuckled at how selfless you could be in a time like this. You never failed to be amazing and Harry was about two months from getting down on one knee at this point.

Instead of answering your question, he answered with a question of his own. “Do you know why I bought this house?”

“Because it was pretty?” You shrugged your shoulders, guessing.

“No. Because it had a room for a library attached to the master bedroom.” He told you. “And do you know who always wanted a library attached to their master bedroom?”

“M-me.” You whispered, eyes tearing up again.

“Yeah, you.” Harry admitted. “From that first day I met you Y/N i knew that it was either you or no one else. I don’t think it would’ve been fair to anyone else if I was with them, when my heart would always belong to you. That first moment I saw you in that god-awful, worn-out, sweater that you insist on keeping, I was fucking smitten. I already knew then that I wanted you, if you’d have me. Then you just had to have the most amazing fucking laugh I’ve ever heard and I knew my happiness had been waiting on you this entire time.

“That first date, we ended up talking about what we’d love our future houses to look like. You explicitly told me you’d divorce whoever you were with if they didn’t give you a house with a library attached to the master bedroom. The next day, what did I go and do? Buy a fucking house with a library attached to the bedroom. I mean, I was house shopping already so don’t go thinking this was all you, but at least you are part of it. A-and I want you to be a part of it all. I can’t call this house a home when you’re not here, it doesn’t feel right.

“So move in with me. Move in with me so I can love you every tiny second of every day, because I do. I do love you and I want my forever to start with you.”

[1111jenx]

🤎Astro Obs Rants IX🤎

Hey all I'm back with another astro observations post! I want to recreate something I did when I first started this blog:) You can check it out here. Lemme tell you I've been holding this one in for way too long and again this is from my pov;) No one is safe.

1. I often see how people make fun of fixed Sun (Taurus, Scorpio, Leo, Aquarius) for being stubborn but I don't see how people make fun of fixed Sun+ fixed Moon combo? When I see this in someone's chart I just look at them in disbelief LOL. Y'all really wake up and choose to be mad stubborn, lowkey clingy, EXTREMELY possesive, wayyyyyy too laid-back (in public) with (serious) hidden anger issues huh.

[ my bestie is a taurus sun aquarius moon and when we were 13 she got jealous over my new puppy because " I was giving him more attention". I'll end this at that. ]

2. Pisces Moon is the next Aries Moon. Y'all being neighbour and too close on the wheel so you guys vibe so well. People say they get along well for no reason? Sir, the reason is because Pisces Moon can be as impulsive and aggressive (with a minor delusional issue) as Aries Moon. Pisces Moon passed the vibe check as they're able to mold or transform themselves into literally whoever and whatever the f they want. Aries Moon love this. They feel understood and listened too and lowkey Pisces Moon adoreeeeee Aries Moon's daring spirits, they feel that its easy to relate to one another as they're locked inside a room on time-out for breaking windows and slashing tires during one of their tantrums😁 (also aries moon are v sensitive, don't tell them I told you this.)

3. Respectfully. Sagittarius Sun needs to slow down on that dr*g or whatever addictive substances they're taking. I'm just kidding, lemme elaborate. So far, I notice that there's two type of Sagittarius Sun:

The first type is very um how do i put this, prude, with their clean cut and clothes, lowkey nerdy but hot(?!) but for both guys and girls as they're hella focus on school and don't wanna indulge in anything because "it's bad for your brains" and they think partying is fun but they still don't wanna risk their education for that lifestyle💀 The second type is truly a chaotic mess but they're also my favourite. Literal e-girl/boy vibes with their dyed hair and slit eyebrows and vapes(i don't support this lifestyle guys don't come for me) They also are so open to whatever and are down for whatever. The type of future parents who would tell their kids something like "C*cain? yeah I did it when I was in 11th grade it's fun and all that but that life aint it dawg"💀💀💀 Gosh their chaotic asses are so relatable and funny and sweet at the same time. Let's discuss how nurturing Sag Sun can be.

[ when I was in my first year in uni, one of my closest friends was a Sag sun and on Halloween that year, after a night of partying and doing illegal *subtances*🙃somehow this weirdo still managed to sober up and walked back to our dorm which was 30 minutes away, put 4 girls in their room before checking the taxi price and decided not to get one cause "ion have 10 dollars to spare" and the next morning we saw her private stories being filled with how she was chased by a skunk and she smhow escaped it. (she videotaped the whole thing while she was running💀) mind you this gurl was coked out not sober. And again, respectfully, most of my Sag sun friends gave off this energy🤣 ]

4. Libra Rising needs therapy. Yes you guys are gorgeous but still, therapy please. Years of slow burn anger towards their family/ childhood and fake friends create this rebel mindset and love for toxic people/situations/ relationships. I'm not even kidding most Libra Rising I know have at least tried to "tame" or "change" someone at least once. I know you guys have 7H Aries but no Sarah, that guy with gangs relations who went to jail for a night is not your soulmate, he's from your hometown not Wattpad sweetie.

5. Gemini Venus get bad rep for being "flighty" and "changeable" in relationship. Well let's talk about the real devils in sheep's clothings. Leo Venus, Libra Venus, Aries Venus. Yeah I called y'all out didn't I? I'm a Leo Venus so I can say this, Leo Venus loves the chase wayyyyyyyy too much and somehow during that cat and mouse game they fall in love with the seretonin they get from it instead of the person, the type to look at you dead in the eyes and say " I think I'm falling for you🥺" but dip the second they realize you don't match up to their standards+ expectations, don't get me wrong tho we're hella loyal but that's not it babies😃👍🏼 Libra Venus is literally all of the above in a way too, but they'll just ghost you lmao. Might text you later to try to make amends cause they can't stand not being liked (true story) but that's about it. They're forgetful as hell so unless you had a glow up or something they won't even remember your name🤣🤣 Aries Venus is also all of the above but get bored even faster, they'll make the first move and all that and will try again and again until they find a better prey😋 With that being said, these 3 just need to find the right people who they deem at the same level though!

6. Hey Taurus Venus! Don't worry I didn't leave you out, I made a whole new entry for y'all❤️ Oh you guys got goosebumps as you read the Leo Venus thing? Yeah you should. Because doesn't that sound familiar huh. Taurus being ruled by Venus, yes y'all are diplomatic and charming and effortlessly loved, but thats the problem, y'all are effortlessly loved. You guys and Leo Venus should win King and Queen of Standards. Y'all standards are unimaginably high and then y'all settle for a 3 who you work with?😃💀 Obsessive as hell in relationships and can get so vengeful????? but can also be as prideful as Leo Venus and others don't even know this somehow???😀???? (jokes on u I'm a leo venus lets laugh at this together hahahahaha)

7. Cancer Sun gets mad at their stereotypes but isn't it funny how they all have a childhoods item they have kept since forever (my guess is a stuffed animal), how they all share a mild hoarding issues since they can't throw some stuff away because it's "memories" and how they all indulge in way too much hot drinks during the winter time as they lay on their couch with their s/o or pets. "I'm not sEnSiTiVe" then lose it on the first person who bad mouth abt their loved and swear on their ancestors grave to find that person's house and slash their tires and burn their stuff down before letting them defend themselves. yup. not sensitive. ( fun fact: i'm a cancer sun so you know i'm not joking ahhahahahaha. #selfawarenessday guys. )

8. Sagittarius Mars go from "bro let's go outside and strip and take pictures and then maybe we'll snowboard and do dr*gs before making a tiktok" to "why am i like this I'm unlovable." in the span of 30 minutes. I have stopped writing observations about them because I can't tell what they're doing next or what they're on right now. the type that dream abt participating an orgy in their chemistry class.

9. Fellow Mars conjunct/opposition/ trine/sextile Jupiter, yall win in life ( and in bed )🥳

10. Venus aspects to Mars (esp conjunct), tell me, how does it feel like to have that pussy power/ big d energy? And how ddoes your s/o still walking straight LOLL

11. People with Sun conjunct Saturn need to CHILL. see what I did there you guys just lose it for a sec didn't ya hehehe🤣 jk but PLEASE let people in, don't guard yourself like that all the time, theres power in confiding in others.

12. Virgo Moon are HELLA critical yes😌. But they're also always gonna give you a second chance (if they think you're sincere enough) Their softhearted ass is a sucker for feels. if you make it sounds realistic they'll open their arms in no time. Virgo Moons you see this? Stop doing that. Your ability to see the worst at people but secretly haveba soft spot for everyone is your best quality but also your worst, say no even though deep down you don't want to.

13. Yo Libra and Scorpio placements, tell me your secret please? How do you guys look like completely normal functional people by daytime but when no ones looking y'all are literally Satan's children? That sweet girl from work who you think is so sweet and caring is actually drafting her 15 pages long plan on getting back at her ex, steps by steps.

14. Virgo placements❤️ Please stop writing down everything that your s/o or loved ones fucked up that time in bullet points so you can use against them during arguments😁 It's scary how you have that list in your Note app on your phone, detailing when where how and what they did from the start to the end. Don't fight me on this I know yall have receipts. Hell I have seen it with my own eyes💀💀

15. Aquarius Sun men✨ that have Capricorn Venus🤝 trust issue 🤝 commitment issue 🤝 attachment issue 🤝 mild OCD 🤝

16. Moon in the 6th house, Aquarius Moon, Capricorn Sun, Scorpio Moon. This is your last warning. Stop going into hibernation every 3-5 business days we need to know if you're alive okay🙂

17. I don't care what you guys say. Sun conjunct Mercury and Moon conjunct Mercury win in life. Imagine being able to say whatever the hell you truly want and feel deep down. Okay yeah they have boundaries issues but still, just ✨imagine✨ *sigh in mercury sextille venus im a people pleaser*

18. Quick vibe check Venus 2nd house. No. Don't think about becoming a trophy wife yet, you're in school for Engineering, do your goddamn homework instead of dreaming about sipping mimosa and having sex on top a pile of money please😋

For more post like this check out my masterlist guys<3 Lemme know what you guys think down below

love,

saint jenx🖤

[leefics]

hi love! hand holding (#34) with jhope pls hehe thank you!

- 🤎

prompt / hand-holding (#34); “holding hands while driving.” pairing / hoseok x idol!reader genre / first date kind of fluff word count / 965 words warnings / none lee’s notes / tell me why it took googling stock photos of hand holding in the car to get inspo for this drabble 😭 anyways, i hope u like it! 🤎

"thank you for picking me up, sunbae." you say, giving hoseok a smile as you get into the car.

you close the door beside you, slightly shrinking into the rather large interior of his hyundai palisade.

hoseok simply chuckles at your statement, grabbing a pillow from the back of the car. "no worries," he replies, "besides, isn't that what people do on dates?" he jokes, making you let out a soft chuckle.

"i guess you're right." you say, giving him a sheepish smile.

just last week, when both of your groups were on music bank, jimin had taken the liberty of introducing himself to you while you were both lined up in the cafeteria.

after getting to know you better, he unexpectedly introduced you to his group, emphasizing that you meet hoseok specifically. once you were both introduced, he had made, (or practically forced) hoseok to ask you out on a date, telling him that you two would make a great pair. and well, when he finally asked, you were a bit too shy to refuse.

"here, it might make you a bit more comfortable." hoseok suddenly says, snapping you out of your trance.

you blink in surprise as he lays a pillow on your lap. "oh," you say, "thank you, sunbae." you mumble, a light pink color tinting your cheeks.

he simply smiles at you, "the place we're going to is a bit far from here, so feel free to make yourself comfortable." he says, starting the car. "you ready to go?"

you smile and nod, hoseok smiling back before he begins driving.

"so, uh—" he says after a few moments of silence, "you wanna play some music?"

you nod, letting out a soft laugh. "sure," you mumble, grabbing the aux cord from his dashboard.

you plug your phone in, unconsciously pursing your lips in focus. as you do, you don't notice hoseok slyly glancing at you, a small amused smile gracing his face.

"you can play anything, (y/n)." he says with a chuckle, "i won't judge."

you smile sheepishly at this, finally settling on a song. as you press the play button, yanghwa BRDG begins flowing through the speakers, making hoseok let out a small smile.

as the traffic light hits red, his eyes travel towards you, the smile on his face growing as he sees you softly sing along as you gazed at the cars driving by.

his eyes travel down to your lap, brows raising in surprise when he sees your hands slightly shivering. "you alright?" he asks, watching as your eyes met his. "your hands seem to be shaking a little."

you look downwards, letting out a soft chuckle. "no, the temperature is fine." you reply, smiling. "i just tend to get a bit fidgety when i'm nervous."

hoseok nods understandingly, a small concerned frown forming on his face. "i understand, our maknae tends to act similar when he's nervous too." he explains, driving when the light turns green.

you glance downwards, "well, at least he has you guys to help him." you reply, a small smile on your face.

he chuckles at this, nodding. "that's true," he says, "and well, i'm sure it's the same with you and your bandmates."

you nod as well, sighing happily as you recall your members. as songs continue playing through the speakers, hoseok slyly glances towards you again, frowning when he sees your hands still seem to be shaking.

"you know," he starts, "you can grab my hand if you want. it might help."

“o-oh,” you mumble, glancing towards him. “really?”

hoseok laughs at your reaction, nodding. “jin-hyung and i do it with guk. he says it helps.” he explains, bringing his palm out.

“well, i guess..” you mumble, voice trailing off as you place your shaky hand on top of his.

you quickly blush at the warmth of his hand, as well as how his rather large fingers easily envelope yours. he gently intertwines your hands, placing them on the space between you two.

“is this okay?” he asks, giving you a small smile.

you nod, smiling back at him. “yes, it’s nice. thank you sunbae.”

upon seeing your smile, hoseok swallows, looking straight ahead as he clears his throat. “no problem,” he says, a slight pink hue on the tip of his ears.

the two of you sit in comfortable silence as the current song ends. when the phone automatically plays the next song, you suddenly stiffen upon hearing the familiar intro.

“wanna be loved,” jungkook sings, his voice echoing the speakers as the tune of their song like fills the car.

“oh my god,” you mumble, shutting your eyes closed.

you embarrassingly cover your face as hoseok laughs at the song, glancing towards you with a grin. “wah, you have good taste, (y/n).” he teases, smiling as he sees you blush.

“god, this is so embarrassing,” you mumble with a groan, leaning your head back the seat.

hoseok continues chuckling at your reaction, even going as far as bringing the volume up. “kyah, i haven’t heard this song in ages. you really dug up our discography, huh?”

you laugh at this, shaking your head at him. “it’s a good song, okay?” you say with a laugh, “anyways—are we almost there?” you ask, trying to distract hoseok from your growing flush.

he simply smiles at this, nodding his head. “just a few more minutes.” he replies, lightly caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

you nod, looking towards the window. suddenly, hoseok taps your hand, causing you to look his way.

“say, you don’t happen to have no more dream on your phone, do you?” he jokes, making you let out another groan of embarrasment.

“sunbae, let me be please.” you say with a laugh, hoseok laughing with you.

[feitansluver]

The prompts are so good I spent 5 minutes in deciding which prompts to use. Hhhh I can sense a talented writer when I see one and you surely are one! Omg I'm blabbering, now to the request

Could I please request prompts 9 and 43 for obanai x fem reader, romantically? Well I'm thinking of a scenario where he always denies the readers feeling and treats her poorly until she gets into an accident where he gets panicked and expresses his feelings, awe, hurt comfort. Well that's only what's in my mind rn but you can go however you like with those prompts! Thanks in advance 🤎✨

Feitansluver's Beginners Event:

The First Day of Forever an obanai x fem!reader

Author's Note: Hey there Pastel! Thank you sm for the compliments, lovely. Sorry it took so long, the writer's block is real, but: Here's your Obanai food! I did my best to write it as similar to your idea as possible!! So i'm sorry if this wasn't to your vision but I hope you enjoy this anyway.:) Let's also pretend phones exist now hehe. This is some how still somewhat gender neutral with maybe two uses of she/her pronouns because I wrote in a weird pov. Anywho, as always hearts, reblogs, comments, and constructive criticism are greatly appreciated. Enjoy<3

Word Count: 1.3k

Genre: Angst -> Romance

9: "Please.. Look me in the eyes, _____. Don't close them, stay awake.." 43: "Did they just hang up on ME?" Event Post: here -> ENDED

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

The wind fluttered through the green spring trees and blew leaves across the small town. The chatter of the carefree people created a peaceful atmosphere amongst the air, if only they truly knew.

A certain snake hashira sat at a table in a small cafe, the love hashira sitting across from him. He was there because he promised he'd treat her to a meal out of pure generosity. After all, she was the one female he could tolerate who actually treated him nicely, considering his monstrous past and all.

"Thank you so much, Iguro-san! OH! I also wanted to say-" Mitsuri rambled on about the subject of the hour in which she was passionate about, most likely her 4 year old cat and how adorable she thought it was. Iguro listened with a deadpan expression upon his bandaged face, Kaburamaru making small hissing noises as if he was actively listening as well.

You, on the other hand, were walking down a small path on your way to present Iguro with a gift in hopes it would somehow alleviate at least some of the tension between the two of you. You weren't exactly sure how it had gotten this extreme. Though, it might've been because you were so open about how much you liked Iguro. He's never been one to trust people who're so pushy when it comes to getting closer to him, a trauma response at best obviously.

In a moment of wisdom, you decided it would be best to call your crush, deeming that it would make you seem less desperate than simply showing up and admitting you snuck around the other hashira to find out his whereabouts. Searching through your phone, you selected the contact that was Iguro's. You bit your lip nervously as you put the phone to your ear and listened to the phone ring several times, your own anxiety building up at the anticipation. After a few moments, a click was heard followed by the very quiet sound of breathing. With a flicker of courage, you spoke.

"Hello Obanai!" You chirped happily, still following the dirt path to where Iguro was mentioned to be at, simply at a slower pace to enjoy the conversation. The man in question almost grimaced at the tone of your voice, already regretting answering the phone. However, he continued the call as it was a distraction from Mitsuri's rambling. "Yes, L/n?" He asked almost impatiently as he awaited an explanation for the phone call. It wasn't like you to call him, he pondered to himself.

As you went to respond, disregarding his slightly harsh greeting, you were hit hard by some sort of outside force. You couldn't see who or what it was because it was attacking you so fast. You could only assume it was a demon considering how the sun was already setting and you were walking through a forest. Your phone hit the floor with a loud crack as it broke into pieces along with Obanai's gift.

A sudden beep alerted Iguro that the call had ended. The black haired man in particular could only growl irritatedly as he stared at his phone in disbelief. "Did they just hang up on ME?" He stated aloud as he sighed and went back to conversing with Mitsuri.

You got into a fighting stance, prepared to take on the beast before you; however, your efforts were futile as you couldn't block the demon from attacking you, nor could you kill it with your own weapon.

Hearing the savage hisses and growls coming from the beast, you determined the only way of survival was to lead it into the quickly waning sunlight. Through a miracle you managed to do so and you watched the demon's body deteriorate into nothing as your body harshly hit the ground. Blood seeped just about everywhere it most likely shouldn't as your breathing became ragged and soon enough, everything faded to black as you only had one thought in your mind.

I love you, Iguro.

The black haired man in particular could only growl irritatedly as he stared at his phone in disbelief. "Did they just hang up on ME?" He stated aloud as he sighed and went back to conversing with Mitsuri.

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

You awoke to the sounds of what you assumed where muffled speaking noises, although you had only heard one party. Beeping from a heart monitor also resonated somewhere in the background

"Wake up, please wake up.." Iguro murmured under his breath with a string of curses while his snake friend tried to soothe him with small hisses. He was positioned at your bedside, sitting in one of those heavily uncomfy chairs within hopsital rooms. Obanai hated seeing you like this. Connected to all these machines, it made his heart ache.

Your heart felt as though it were going to beat out of your chest when you finally realized who's voice you heard. You wanted to open your eyes and tell him you were okay, but you didn't. Determining that this might be the way to finally creep under his tough exterior, you stayed silent and motionless, eagerly listening.

The ravenette stood up and paced the room, he didn't look very panicked to the hospital staff in the building; however, anyone who knew him knew otherwise. "I should have rejected her advances sooner, perhaps that would have prevented such a tragedy." He presumed out loud.

No! You thought irritatedly. This wasn't going according to plan at all.

Kaburamaru hissed in what sounded to be a doubtful tone, or whatever a snake could possibly emote properly. "You're right, It's not as though I can go on like this forever. I'd like to protect her, but even I know she's a stubborn woman." Trudging back over to your bedside, he grabbed your hand gently. "I swear to you that if- when you awake, I'll treat you the way that you deserve. I won't hide it anymore. I'll finally confess my feelings in a way that your are worthy of. I'll take you wherever you desire, I'll protect you with my cursed life as long as you just wake up.." He paused to take a breath. "I know I don't deserve you, considering my own upbringing as well as the way I've treated you, but I swear on my blade to make it up to you because I love you."

...There it is.

Your eyes fluttered opened as a soft smile graced your features gently. "Iguro, I love you too." Your hand tightened around his own with no intention of letting go as you watched his eyes widen out of shock. He couldn't believe you were awake.

Quickly gaining his composure, he cleared his throat. "How much did you snoop in on?" He asked in his usual monotone voice, yet with slight undertones of joy. Obanai shook his head before you could answer, raising his hand to stop you. "No matter, I'd prefer not to know." He commented, abruptly leaning very close to your face without warning.

"Please.. Look me in the eyes, y/n. Don't close them, stay awake.." He spoke boldly, gripping both of your hands in his own. "Never worry me like that again and I'll do my best to make you the happiest woman alive". Kaburamaru slithered closer to you, still wrapped around his friend's neck. Sticking out his forked tongue, the snake hashira's companion got close to your cheek, imitating what would be a kiss from Obanai, if he wasn't wearing his mask that is.

A light blush appeared on both of y'all's faces as you stared deep into one another's eyes.

Yeah, you could get used to this.