#difficult coworker day but we stay silly. we stay silly. we do.

[canisonicscrewyou]

I'm being so brave today (working with someone who makes emotional regulation HARD + makes me hyper aware of everything bc they. don't do anything)

[misc-obeyme]

HELP I GOT A COWORKER FRIEND INTO OBEY ME AKSKDKD 😭 I'VE CONVERTED HER. SHE'S REALLY INTO BELPHIE AND HAS BEEN PLAYING NIGHTBRINGER NON STOP

there's this crystal ball in the halloween section that i joked about putting my Solomon plushie into and it went like

"You're going to imprison him??"

"he deserves it"

"If you can find something that looks like a glob to put in there too it'd be perfect. Because he's canonically a bad cook. Wait no put him in the cauldron because he makes potions- WAIT I SHOULDN'T EVEN KNOW THIS, I HAVEN'T BEEN PLAYING THAT LONG"

I'm getting so much joy because I can point at something silently and she'll sigh at me because it clicks that I'm relating it back to a character. I don't even have to say what character, she can realize herself. She can't look at the tiny potion bottle charms the same anymore.

I promised her I'd dig through my collection for any belphie merch I don't want so she can buy it LOL. Because I had a bad habit of buying full boxes in the beginning instead of taking my chance with blind bags (Because I wanted Mammon/Levi/Beel)

also I saw the other anon ask about crafts, and I loveee Satan book nook idea. I actually have a train/time travel one that I haven't started but bought because it reminded me of Solomon Takes The Train hard mode card

also diamond paintings are tough 😭 but imagining mammon making one is so cute. Date idea tbh. I have one I started two years ago and haven't touched since ummm ahah..

ALSO I'VE BEEN WORKING HARD ON WRITING RANDOM THINGS, LIKE THIS SOLOMAMS NOODLE THING AND CRAFT STORE MAMMON (I SWEAR I HAVEN'T FORGOTTEN ABOUT COFFEESHOP AU), OKAY BYEEE HAVE A GOOD DAY

I looove that your coworker is into it now!!! Already learning all the lore~ mwahaha we have another convert!

Honestly I would like to put the actual Solomon into a crystal ball, let me observe that guy. He's so silly I love him. But I do think it'd be really cute to put his plushie in one, that's so him.

Yesss sharing the merch wealth! I love that your coworker is a Belphie lover, too. Poor lil guy I feel like he gets neglected a lot. Who wouldn't love an emo cow demon, right?? Oh but wait she's playing Nightbringer... lolol you gotta tell me how she reacts to lesson 16 if she ever plays OG.

AH I want a book nook so bad!! I love the idea of a train/time travel one! I love that card, too~

I have never done a diamond painting, but it looks difficult lol. I'm just imagining Mammon with his tongue sticking out a little, trying really hard to stay focused so he can impress you with his diamond painting skills~

Yay!! I'm so glad you've been writing!! I don't mind patiently waiting for coffeeshop au updates either~

[mushroom-for-art]

I am controlled by the movie au I swear XD sorry @oogaboogaspookyman I made ur monochrome boi a shy nervie boi (I nearly tried to at monochrome bastard there before going wait no XD that's wrong) Meanwhile May is big autistic.

Date?

The monochrome Mewtwo stood uncertainly at the door of his coworkers trailer, he didn't know why he was so nervous I mean he'd come here plenty of times before to fetch her for scenes, just to hang out and have their treat girl nights, to work out revenge plans, to watch movies together I mean it was fine he'd done this before he could do it again.

He raised his hand to knock before pulling it away pacing outside the front of her door, but this time it was different. It wasn't like a hang out, this time, well, he had romantic intentions. He wondered if he should not do it this way, just slip her a note discreetly, who was he to encroach on her personal space with his heart in his hand so to speak. That's not fair to her! And he didn't even know if she liked him, she was very confusing after all. She did like men supposedly and she wasn't as playful or jokey with any other male coworkers.

His heart fluttered thinking about how she leans into him when they walk together brushing against him, how she'd hold his arm though sometimes to menace him and make his life difficult. How she would grab his hands during behind the scenes movie interviews and wave their hands about, how when she laughs she leans into him hiding her face in him as she giggled and snorted. Or how when previewing their latest horror movie together she curled up into his side feeling comforted and safe squeezed against him while also asking what was happening despite being petrified of horrors, was a bit silly in a charming way, played a lead role in a horror movie and yet couldn't actually watch the actual horror.

He took a deep breath in and exhaled slowly, he did like her, she was exciting and charming and a breathtakingly refreshing change to the usual misery of show business. He sighed shortly, shaking off his hands and moved back to her door knocking softly.

"One momentooo~" Her singsong voice came as he heard her shuffle about towards the door, the lock clicked and opened and, her face was bright purple covered in some sort of spa mask, fuck, she must have been having a relax day with Matt, shit fuck stupid. He froze up as he stared at her as she looked back taking a moment to look confused before beaming at him.

"Hey! We were just doing face masks! Do you wanna join?!" Her tone was excited and easy and it breathed air back into his lungs as his shoulders relaxed.

"Um, I'd love to but I'm afraid I can't stay, May, I, was wondering if you'd. Well you can say no of course but it'd be nice if you'd like to accompany me tomorrow, I'd, like to go out together somewhere."

May blinked at him and smiled saying, "like out to town? You read my mind, I've been getting bored of being stuffed in here with movie scenes."

"Hey can I come?" Matt hollered from somewhere in the trailer, "oh that'd be so fun us three all going out together." She was beaming, smiling in excitement. He bit his inner lip, save her happiness and lose the date or save date and ruin her joy? God he hated these textbook drama misunderstandings, and he knew she did too. He debated, sighing softly.

"Well, um."

He struggled, why did he even start the sentence when he should've said yes. May seemed to notice his hesitation stepping down the step from her trailer door saying gently to him, "is that okay?" He met her eye and looked away.

"I, was kind of, I was hoping. Sorry let me start over, um."

He tried to think of a way of saying he wanted it to be a date with just them two without sounding like a jerk, he had no issue with Matt he just, didn't want him there. Like at all. He swallowed his concern knowing getting it out was the best course of action and he can deal with the fall out then before he lost his nerve and ended up missing his chance.

"A date. I was. Would you like, to go out together on a date, uh just us two, no Matt."

May blinked again, seeming surprised and he was ready for the earth to swallow him up whole.

"GOD DAMN MOTHER FUCKING BITCH!" Matts voice could be heard yelling from the inside, "YOU CUNT." May laughed awkwardly softly saying "uh I should, check with the council." He could feel his face heating up in embarrassment ready to just leave when she went inside, she touched his arm softly as she turned giving him a smile and gently squeezing his arm, "but, I think a date would be nice," her smile was genuine he could tell, she always bit her bottom lip showing parts of her front teeth in her bashful genuine smile. She let go of his arm stepping up into the trailer.

"WHAT THE FUCKS YOUR PROBLEM MATTY LAD?!" She unceremoniously yelled back at her brother. "YOU FUCKING KNOW WHAT YOU CRUSH STEALING LEMON WHORE! UNFUCKING BELIEVABLE. YOU BETTER SAY YES SINCE CLEARLY /I'M/ NOT GETTING ANY OF THAT!!"

May rolled her eyes backwards tilting her head back and smiling at monochrome before leaning back in to shout, "I WOULD IF YOU GAVE ME A FUCKING CHANCE SO SHUT YOUR FUCKING YAP!" She leant back away standing in the door frame before playfully jumping down the steps to be stood in front of monochrome once more who smiled shyly. "Council says it should be fine, my manager can go suck an egg if she wants me." Giving him a bold grin as he snorted softly, somewhat embarrassed and shy now he'd gone and done it and successfully bagged a date.

"Well! I will, come collect you tomorrow, uh early, does 8 sound good?"

She smiled and nodded saying "8 sounds fine, gives us the whoooole day together." He smiled bashfully at the thought as she held his hands and playfully leant back using him as support to emphasize her speaking, he could tell she was somewhat deflecting through humorous actions but he figured she may have just been shy, the wagging of her tail confirming his internal suspicions.

"I'll let you enjoy your night then, and I'll come here to collect you tomorrow for our date."

It sounded strange saying those words but it also felt weirdly nice. She smiled as she stood properly still holding his hands, tail still wagging. "Yea, yea, I, I'm excited for it, guess I'll take this time to pamper myself up all prutty for you." Her tone was genuine before falling into shy humor as she squeezed his hands fidgeting slightly with nerves and energy. He smiled softly bring her hands up to his mouth kissing her knuckles softly.

"You're already prutty, even with a bright purple face, but I'll bid you goodnight."

He could see her tail wagging furiously and in honesty he was having to concentrate quite hard to not wag his as he released her hands sensing she was getting a bit overstimulated as he bowed turned and quickly left the tip of his tail flicking rapidly like a rattlesnake.

As he walked away he heard her retreat back into her trailer, and the sound of her softly squeal screaming, hopefully in joy.

—————

"A DATE ! HE ASKED! ME! DATE! EH !" May squealed in overstimulated glee and confusion bouncing on the spot and flapping her arms about to get all the energy static and wiggles out of herself at the sheer, just sheerness of the situation. Matt lounged watching her with what could only be described as resting bitch face.

"I mean we're always bantering! And like! He's nice! He's always really friendly! And encouraging in scenes or how he comforts me during horror previews of our movies! And like! He's cool! Like! He's! And he's my friend, holy shit he does actually see me as a friend as well, MORE THAN in fact," she paced and did a little hop. "What the fuck?! Holy fuck, oh my god I have nothing good to wear oh christ he's gonna be so disappointed, he's gonna realise I'm a horrid little gremlin aahh shit fuck. Ah" she paced and jumped and ranted and raved, getting out her emotions and processing what happened and what it meant and what other things meant as they were processed with new context.

"Oh my god he was flirting!! Aaaah! I am fucking stupid! Fuck. OH HE PROBABLY THOUGHT I WAS FLIRTING!! Oh he's going to realize I'm so stupid and dense and crackers I dont get socializing," she wailed, waving and swaying her body before having to lie down on the floor on her back to preserve her face mask for much needed floor time as Matt continued to watch.

"Eh he's known you this long I think he realizes all this by now." Matt crunched into a pickle, "I mean he probably likes that your crackers." He nudged her lightly with his foot. "You're fine, I fucking hate you. But you're fine. I think actually this could be good for you, you haven't dated before it's a good-"

"OH GOD I'VE NEVER DATED BEFOREEEEEE!!!" May wailed from the floor as Matts expression fell flat.

"God you're fucking useless."

[girderednerve]

i haven't made a list in forever! i'm making a list!

i have these cool muscles aches & joint pain (not covid or otherwise contagious) & it sucks, do not recommend. also we're under a boil water notice for the next however long, which sucks. however! multiple OK things.

went to see a middle school basketball game with two youth services librarians recently so we could cheer for our beloved library teens. we made punny signs & embarrassed them. it was really fun although i have to say middle school basketball is a lot more physical than i was strictly expecting, i kept being like, um, please keep your hands to yourselves??? so maybe i am not a very good basketball spectator. but the teens were pleased we went, which is what matters

we got nonalcoholic margarita mix, nonalcoholic tequila (it's. weird), and nonalcoholic beer, which for some reason we still got carded for. i am not getting into ""mixology"" but it is fun to make silly beverages. it may even be, dare one say it, festive

i am going to see my family later this week. this is exciting because i like my family & also my cat lives with them so i will see a cat

i'm watching dragon ball z for the first time & it's really fun. my partner keeps telling me which bits got the daycare all up in arms when they aired back in the day which is great

i ordered & received a very silly monthly planner with little birds on it. i am hoping that it will be helpful with staying on top of stuff etc. but right now i am just enjoying the cute little birds. yay stupid office supplies

i cleaned up one small patch of our apartment & i feel very accomplished about it. cleaning is very difficult for me because i have no idea what to do with anything & it feels high-stakes because my partner gets frustrated with me for being messy, so instead of just going "i am cleaning so that this will be clean" i am like "i am cleaning so that i will not be a blight upon our relationship!!" which is probably counterproductive. anyway i did accomplish cleaning & i am pleased about it & it was truly not that bad so i am recording the experience in the hopes that it may encourage future cleaning. maybe i am not a comprehensive fuckup. etc.

i have a job interview coming up & i've applied for like four jobs in the county because they are open & i would like to have health insurance & more money. this is all very stressful & i hate it. however, all of my coworkers have been really nice about my jobquest & that's been great so like. holding onto that part of it

also of course always i am grateful for the friends i have online, however loose our acquaintance. good luck out there

[fishermansfoe]

today my coworker was asking abt my bf and was like “oh wow sounds like it’s getting serious” and i was like hmm not really? which is silly bc i do know what Getting Serious means and i have felt relationships become serious in the most literal sense and this on paper is that. but it never feels serious? and i think that’s really awesome. like idk for previous partners Getting Serious has been synonymous with an expectation — this is your person, you owe them x amount of time per week and you are in a Serious Relationship so things are frequently hard and that’s just how it is. it is how it has been.

now, this is just my guy i met his friends on the weekend and we pranked them together. today he decided he wanted to pick me up for a sweet treat so we did that and then i smashed him at board games. he said he needed to rant and i was like that’s chill and it never felt like i was doing intense emotional labour, something i often struggle with. short and sweet. he knows i don’t romantically love him and he’s okay with it. we talk about the characters in tv shows we think are hot together. if i am too in my head he picks me up and squeezes me tight. we make plans last minute and we cancel plans las minute. i keep his favourite snacks in my bedroom. when i am flaring, he stays by his phone so i’m not alone, even if it’s 3am and he’s working the next day. when he needs someone to sit by him so he finishes his assignments i’m there. if we can’t see each other for a while it’s no big deal too. it’s never difficult, not in the way i have come to expect. we don’t owe each other anything but we do things because we care and that’s really great.

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Chance And The Change; Part Four

Fandom: Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Pairing: (Eventual) Villain!Mirio/AFAB Shie Hassaikai!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

A/N: Gang we go full-tilt in this one. In this installment I wax theoretical on the full capacity of Mirio’s Quirk, and I will be taking certain creative liberties. That being said, please read the trigger warnings. Enjoy!

Tag List: @hijackser @nonstop-haikyuu @zombiexbody @buttons-beads-lace @moonchhu @swift-omg-no @ectoplasmictoast

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains verbal abuse, implied child abuse, allusions to previous abuse, canon-typical violence, very descriptive physical violence, gun usage and discussion and use of medication/drugs (pills). Stay safe!]

It had gone to hell, because of course it had gone to hell. 

It should have been an epic clash of moral ambiguity and you shouldn't even be involved! 

This wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to live out your days in comfortable anonymity after working for a few decades in a shady syndicate. You were supposed to keep your head down and your mouth shut, and you absolutely were not supposed to get involved in any coworkers squabbles.

'Squabble' may be an oversimplification, you admitted to yourself. 

Mirio's hand came down to cover yours, the tall man glancing at you. "Can you keep up with me? It's okay if you can't." 

Your ego had already suffered mightily during your stint with the Hassaikai, but you weren't about to let the do-gooder wannabe outpace you. "'Course." You scoffed, your brow furrowed in annoyance. "I just hope you can keep up with me, Schoolboy."

…

It was clearly posturing, but Mirio appreciated your determination all the same. 

He needed you to keep your hold on his arm long enough for him to at least deal with Deidoro. Your Quirk could dampen Deidoro's and that would make his job infinitely easier. 

Togata was uncertain if the two of you would be able to function effectively together, though. He usually relied on calculating out his ricochets but with you holding his arm, using his Quirk like that wouldn't be possible. He would have to do things the old-fashioned way. As he was thinking that, you slid your hand down his arm to take his hand instead, lacing your fingers through his own and giving him a light squeeze.

Deidoro chuckled darkly while circling around Mirio and you. "Silly schoolboy, hangin' around with the wrong crowd." He jeered, hiccupping afterwards. "Thought you'd get special treatment from the boss? He hates people like you, hates hates hates."

"I'm starting to realize that I don't care much about what he thinks of me." Mirio replied airily, "and if my loyalty is called into question, that's all the better." He wished he could give you more warning when he was about to strike, but he knew he was already essentially telegraphing his moves to Deidoro. 

The Hassaikai member dodged his first punch while laughing wildly, and as such was caught off guard when both you and Mirio swung your combined fists down into his chest like a hammer. Deidoro staggered back, wheezing out swears. "Why the hell ain't you two weavin' yet?! You should already be more off-balance, what the fuck-"

Mirio lashed out next with his legs, landing one kick after another in rapid succession. You followed along after him, your fist crashing into Deidoro's jaw to knock him back another step. Mirio caught the grim look on your face and it heartened him somewhat to see that your determination hadn't been entirely bluster. You clearly believed you had some skin in this game, and you had decided that it was worth fighting for.

"Why you always gotta' make things so difficult?" Deidoro slurred, spitting a wad of bloody saliva at Mirio's boots. "Always fuckin' around, always upsettin' the bossman. You make me sick, know that? You ain't ever had a hard time in your life, and you!" His attention shifted to you and Mirio felt your hand involuntary twitch. "You, you're the reason my Quirk ain't workin' on him! You little bitch, I'll fuckin'-"

Mirio, used to reading movements, realized what you were about to do and figured he could tack on a little extra. You dropped down suddenly to sweep the ranting Deidoro's leg and Mirio fed your momentum into his own spinning back kick, his heel connecting with the side of Deidoro's skull and sending the thin man tumbling across the floor. The member of the Eight Bullets hit the wall and there he slumped, lifeless.

The sudden silence was all-too-quickly broken when Nemoto's gun fired, the projectile whizzing past your head and making you accidentally jerk your hand free of Mirio's grasp. Luckily with Deidoro unconscious his Quirk was rendered inert, leaving Mirio free to speedily deal with Nemoto.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you it's dangerous to play with guns?" Togata scolded, the next shot passing harmlessly through his body as he charged forward.

"Why are you doing this?!" Nemoto shouted at the younger man, his Quirk compelling Mirio to answer.

"Because it's the right thing to do!" Mirio yelled, ricocheting out of the floor and tackling the slight man. As he struggled to wrest the gun from the flailing Nemoto, you sprinted past him after Chisaki.

…

Eri pleaded for you to leave while simultaneously clinging to you, her tiny hands tangled in your jumpsuit. Behind you came the sounds of a frantic pursuit; running footsteps, Overhaul barking orders and you knew Kurono was probably already hot on your heels. You prayed that Mirio had finished dealing with Nemoto, otherwise things were about to get even hairier for you.

The floor in front of you abruptly reformed into a carpet of vicious spikes, making you skid and lunge to one side, then the other as the cement underfoot rippled like water. Shit, shit shit I am not fast enough for this, you realized grimly, planting Eri on your shoulders in a desperate bid to keep her out of harm's way. 

A spike drove into your side and you hissed out a swear, twisting away from the site of injury. 

"I've got her!" Mirio was suddenly beside you, snatching the child from your grasp while the next foiled onslaught of sharpened protrusions crashed to the floor around him. "Get out of here!"

"Oh sure, I'll get right on that!" You yelled, aiming a kick to punt another sidelong spike into the stratosphere. "Look, now's definitely the time to let me know you can make other people untouchable!"

Togata shot you a regretful look that was all the answer you needed, and in that moment of inattention the floor beneath him erupted upwards in a sea of jutting spikes. 

You swore again, this time much louder. Of course Mirio had avoided most of them, the taller man hoisting Eri overhead and bounding out of range. The cement protrusions phased through his lower body, failing to reach Eri before they were crumbling to be reformed anew. Again and again Overhaul struck, only barely falling short to Mirio's clever maneuvering. Lemillion was nothing but a red and white streak, somehow managing to maintain his usual velocity even with Eri in his hold. 

Yet still, you had the feeling that the two of you were only prolonging this torment. You didn't have any real aspiration for victory, and the knowledge that everything was essentially over sat in your stomach like a lead weight. Everything had gone so wrong. There was that tiny hope that you and Mirio would waste enough time and cause enough of a ruckus that the pros could still manage to locate Eri, but it was growing smaller by the second.

Shards of yellow polycarbonate went flying past your head and it only took you a moment to figure out that Mirio's visor had been destroyed by a blow to his temple. The young man reeled, nearly impaling himself when he staggered backwards. 

You bolted towards him, arms outstretched in a desperate bid to grab Eri instead of letting her get dropped. A slab of flooring tipped upwards beneath your feet, making you stumble and nearly fall before you managed to catch the child. "Lemillion!" You then shouted an order, thoroughly fed up with the current state of things, "get him!"

It was like flipping a switch. Mirio lurched downward into that familiar stance, shoulders tight and knees bent. There was murder in his eyes and then…

He was gone.

…

Get him.

Those two words seared through his rattled mind, latching on to his very being. Fighting the fog of concussion and impact, the haze of red from the blood slowly dripping into his eye, Mirio could barely make out the shadowy form of Chisaki across the room. Chronostasis seemed to be flanking him as well, not that it mattered.

Get him.

You would take care of Eri. You were strong, so strong, stronger than you thought. You could keep her safe. You had faith in him. You thought he could do this. You believed he could defeat Chisaki.

Get him.

A breath out, a breath in, predict his movements, remember his position.

Mirio sank down into the floor, angling himself before he rocketed upwards again. He was too fast for Overhaul's spikes, but he could hear them impacting against one another directly behind him. Chisaki was still desperately trying to keep him at a distance. 

It would do him no good. 

Mirio's eyes narrowed, his whole field of view reduced to the man who had caused such misery and pain. "Chisaki!" He roared, his fist crashing into the yakuza leader's midsection. The next moment he phased his arm through nearly to his shoulder, fingers seizing the back of the other man's jacket. "This is for what you've done to her!" Mirio seethed, then solidified his arm. 

The limb was whipped backwards of its own accord, dragging the thick jacket fabric along with it through Overhaul's stomach and trapping his arms at his sides in the now-taut sleeves. Togata leaned into the motion of the recoil, the heel of his other hand hooking beneath Chisaki's chin and ushering him to the ground. 

The back of Chisaki's head slammed into the floor with a devastating amount of force and he screamed out in agony, writhing underneath Mirio's bulky form. The young man leaned in close, close enough to see the panic in the eyes of the normally unflappable leader of the Hassaikai. "Congratulations." Mirio informed him through gritted teeth. "You've pissed me off."

Kurono attempted to use his Quirk on Mirio and received a face-shattering backhand for his trouble, the white-robed man folding like a house of cards under the single blow.

"I want you to suffer, like you made Eri suffer. Like you made that little girl hurt." Togata continued, shaking his hand to alleviate some of the sting as Kurono collapsed. "Everything you've ever done to her, I'll return tenfold!"

Chisaki scrabbled at the ground, the flooring abruptly dissolving when he activated his Quirk. "I'll kill you for this, Schoolboy." He hissed, managing to escape out of Mirio's hold by shifting the cement to knock the younger man aside.

"I'm not done with you yet!" Mirio spat, his boot landing squarely on the center of Overhaul's right thigh, only to phase through it and then blow out the side in a bloody mess when he resolidified his foot. This particular technique always made Mirio's bones ache but he barely noticed it now, so intent was he on his attack. 

Get him.

Both palms slammed down on Overhaul's forearms, phasing through and then gloved fingers digging into greedy handfuls of muscle. Overhaul shrieked wordlessly as Mirio tore free, tissue and bloodspray splattering on the floor in a gory display. 

Togata's forehead cracked into the older man's, his teeth bared in a furious snarl. "I could kill you, boss." He reminded Chisaki in a gutteral whisper, one bloodied finger hovering at about eye height. "Could crush your brain from the inside, excise you like the cancer you are. I can take you apart faster than you can fix yourself, I promise you that much."

The younger man paused, the words he had just uttered sounding foreign and wrong to his ears. Maybe this was too much, maybe he was playing into Chisaki's hands by teetering on the edge of this…unfamiliar, red tide of fury. 

Overhaul's response erased his doubt, however.

"Where the hell was this attitude when you were whining to me about hero restrictions?" Chisaki choked, feebly attempting to buck Mirio off again. "Schoolboy, you've missed your calling. If I had known you were so eager to kill-"

"Shut the hell up!" Togata raged, Overhaul's mask creaking under the stress of his continued pressure. "It's over, Chisaki! Once the pros get here-!"

"Is it? Oh, is it, Schoolboy?" The older man wheezed and Mirio both felt and heard a rumbling crash behind him. Togata dared to glance back, his eyes widening as he realized that the hallway had collapsed. "Looks to me like things are just getting started!"

…

Mirio traded blows with Chisaki while you desperately searched for a way around the rubble that had nearly crushed you. You knew you didn't have much time to waste, Mirio hadn't been in great shape to begin with. 

The roof kept dropping debris and Eri ducked her face into your chest, mumbling something frantically. "We've got you, kiddo." You soothed, giving her a smile you didn't feel. "Once the pros get here, you'll be safe. Just hang on a little longer." 

"Everyone's going to die because of me." She sobbed, giving you pause. "People always get hurt, and it's all my fault."

Before you could reply the ground under your feet shattered, shit he's back on us! You flung yourself back, landing against the wall with a grunt. "No way." You panted. "That's just something that adults say to make themselves feel better about doing bad things. It's a lie, kiddo, so don't you buy it for a second." Eri stared up at you wide-eyed. "People want to help you. There's a bunch of people on their way right now to help you! We just have to hold out a little longer. Can you be brave with me for a little longer?" 

The floor next to you split apart, spikes shooting upwards from the chasm. Columns snaked towards you in a mad dash, forcing you back until you were trapped against the tangle of rubble again. A large chunk of flooring that had flipped upwards looked like it would maybe shield you from the next bombardment and so you flung yourself behind it, curling into a ball.

"Just a little longer." You repeated, cupping Eri's head and tucking her face into your chest to dampen the attack that was coming. 

Instead, a warm body pressed to your back. Arms wrapped around your torso and both you and Eri were thrown bodily into the air, just high enough to miss the deadly onslaught. 

Your eyes widened, realizing as you stared down at his bloodied, smiling face that…

Mirio was a hero. 

Not someone like the pros, not someone authorized by the government to protect the population, not someone motivated by the perks and power. 

Mirio Togata was a true hero, a real hero, someone who made mistakes and had a moral compass that was faulty but always tried to do good and right. He was incredible. Everything you could never be. Strong, certain, and willing to throw himself to the wolves if it meant the faintest chance of rescuing someone in need.

Well shit. 

You crashed to the floor, the wind knocked out of you by the rough landing (and the rock that had made itself at home in your lower back). Eri struggled free from your arms and you couldn't exactly move yet, so it wasn't a particularly difficult task.

"Lemillion!" Eri cried. You woozily raised your head, blinking in an attempt to clear your vision. 

Mirio was still standing but only just, his left leg giving out even as you watched. He toppled to the ground, catching himself with his right arm. The left hung awkwardly from his shoulder; whether dislocated or broken you couldn't say. He mustered up a smile for the little girl despite his obvious injuries and something, something inside you flickered to life.

Sure, you were tired. Sure, everything on your body felt like one giant bruise. Sure, sure, sure. But if Mirio could still fight on, you would too, dammit!

The lone sheet of capsules rested forlornly in your palm, its plastic bubbles mangled. You'd get maybe six intact pills out of it if you were careful. Gingerly peeling the foil sheet off the back of the plastic, you tried to ignore Mirio's panting. Even from your current position, you could hear how hard he was working just to pull breath. You closed your eyes, trying hard to steel your nerves before you acted on this really, really stupid idea. 

The pills nearly stuck in your dry throat when you swallowed, but you forced them all down. 

You slowly rose to a crouching position, focused on Mirio's form hunched over Eri. There was a gaping wound in his thigh which seemed to be the chiefest issue, several more deep lacerations on his torso. Work on the chest wound first, get him back up to speed, go to leg from there, shoulder next.

A massive column struck the wall and shattered where your head had been as you made a break for Mirio and Eri. You felt the air displaced by the speeding object whip by your cheek and your legs very nearly failed you, but you gritted your teeth and forced yourself forwards.

You skidded to a stop practically on top of Togata, placing both your palms on his back. Mirio coughed raggedly, his eyes shooting open no doubt in response to the sensation of your enhanced Quirk. Your own skin felt like it was on fire and you squinted, setting your jaw. "Don't move," you warned. "It's a lot harder to fix if you jostle me."

"Nemoto, shoot him!" Overhaul's shouted order cracked like a whip through the air. Chisaki would absolutely force the situation, which meant that you had seconds to get done what usually took hours. Mirio had apparently not dealt with Nemoto as well as you had hoped. To be fair, Mirio had done the bulk of the heavy lifting thus far. You couldn't exactly blame him for not wholly incapacitating the marksman, regardless of how much it was going to potentially cost you.

Your eyes narrowed and you glared down at your hands, willing your Quirk to work faster dammit! It was okay if you got shot, you decided spontaneously. It was okay if something bad happened to you. At least you knew how to deal with bad stuff and…and if something bad happened to you, that meant it wasn't happening to Mirio or Eri, which was good. 

Better me than you, Schoolboy.

"Nemoto-!" Mirio tried to rise, his good arm flailing back at you like he was going to push you away.

"Don't. Move." You hissed, your fingers digging into his uniform. You had no idea what angle Nemoto would have, but you tried to widen your stance all the same. "Don't let this be for nothing, okay? You've got things to accomplish, Mirio. You've got shit to do!" You jerked your chin towards Eri's terrified face. "You can keep the kid safe. You can be the hero she needs right now!" Your upper arms ached from how tightly you were clenching your muscles, but the rigid posture helped speed the process. Come on, come on!

"I'm not letting y–wait, wait," Togata attempted to prop himself up, the large man barely managing to get on all fours. 

"The hell did I just say?!" You shouted, bolting onto your knees to lock your arms and slam your full weight down on top of Mirio. He collapsed again, fingers clawing desperately at the rubble, at your leg–

As he met the ground once more, a shot rang out. 

The bullet meant for Mirio punctured the back of your shoulder, tearing through your uniform and burying itself in the skin beneath with ease. You arched your back, the pain flashing lightning-bright in front of your eyes and nausea abruptly souring your mouth. It felt almost like the time an overzealous security guard had tasered you; every muscle in your body drawn taut and screaming for mercy while white-hot agony radiated outwards from the point of impact. 

Battling through the urge to just go limp, you sobbed out a breath and clawed forward to grasp Mirio's injured shoulder. By some incredible stroke of luck it seemed that you had been able to reset the dislocated limb with your amplified Quirk, which you hadn't anticipated at all! "Thank fuck." You muttered through clenched teeth, feeling almost sick with relief. He could still fight. He could still do this.

Mirio began to fight your hold anew, clearly healed enough to function again. He all but threw you off his back, his eyes flying to your wounded shoulder.

"It'll be okay!" You tried to smile but failed miserably, settling for a pained grimace as you clumsily tried to apply pressure. "I was serious, anyhow. Don't let this shit be for nothing. It's definitely better me than you."

"You shouldn't have had to make that kind of choice." Togata's voice had an odd rasp, the man clearly enraged. "Not for me."

The floor suddenly lurched beneath your knees. An explosion rang in your ears and larger chunks of concrete debris began raining down on the three of you. All you saw was a green blur rocketing towards Chisaki through a freshly-made hole in the wall and Mirio rising to stand tall over you, his arm moving a split-second too late to shield you from the next shower of cement detritus.

Part Five

[leighistired]

Out Loud

A Martin character study AO3 Link

“G’night mum, love you.”

“Make sure you put the trash out, don’t want it stinking up the house.”

At 12 it occurs to Martin, he can’t recall the last time his mother said “I love you” to him. She must have. He knows she loves him, so why can’t he remember her saying it? Was it before dad left? It can’t have been that long ago. He knows if he brings it up she’ll just tell him off for being silly so he just decides to not say it unless she says it first. She doesn’t say it.

“Look how nice our neighbor’s garden is,” she says instead. “If only we could have such a nice garden.”

“The neighbors hire a man-” Martin tries to explain. He had just done law maintenance over the weekend; he would have to bring up memory issues next time they saw a doctor.

“Aren’t you happy with how I provide for you?” She snaps. “Ever since your lousy father left us I have done my best even with my health and all you can talk about is getting a bloody gardener.”

“Sorry, mum,” he says. It’s better not to argue when she gets like this.

“Forget it. Just get me my tea.”

He goes and brews her a cup of Oolong tea. It’s far too bitter for his tastes but it’s all he buys when he does the shopping. Perhaps that was it, instead of saying she loved him she just provided for him.

Martin tells himself that until she gets too sick to work and begins needling him to get a job at 14. Suddenly he’s providing for her on top of school and everything else but that didn’t mean she didn’t love him. She was just sick and the medication she was on made her tired most of the time so it wasn’t like he could expect her to be excited to see him; especially not when he’s the one bringing it to her.

“Is soup the only thing you buy?” She asks one evening when he brings her dinner.

“You didn’t have soup last night,” he reminds her patiently after a long day of school and work.

“Oh, so you think I’m ungrateful? I am your mother! I gave birth to you! You should be happy to take care of me!”

“It would be nice if you acted like a mum for once!” Martin snaps back. He regrets it as soon as he says it and doesn’t wait to hear her response. He leaves the house and sits in the park near his house for a long time and cries. Of course she loves him. It must be so hard on her to be stuck at home all day with no one to talk to and there he went snapping at her. She’s asleep by the time he comes home and neither of them mentions it in the morning.

Martin doesn’t know what he expects when he starts to transition. He hadn’t even called it a transition at first, he just likes how he looks with short hair, baggy clothes, and a sports bra. His mother disagrees. There are days she won’t even look at him and when she does it’s usually even worse.

“You cut your hair again,” she mentions one morning over breakfast. “Just when you were starting to look like a girl.”

“Yup,” Martin replies tight-lipped. He had been thinking it over for a while and he’s slowly coming to terms with the fact that he isn’t a girl. The way she says it hits him sharply. If she was never going to say “I love you” to a daughter, why would she say it to a son? He doesn’t bother coming out to her properly because he can already see the disgust on her face when he gets a proper binder.

When she decides to move into a full-time care facility, it’s almost a relief. He feels foolish for expecting her to say it when she leaves. He feels even more foolish when he says it in goodbye. The receptionist gives him a sympathetic look when she doesn’t say it back but the receptionist probably assumes his mother has memory issues and forgot who he was. She doesn’t. Still, he appreciates the gesture.

Dating is nearly impossible for most of his life. It’s easiest to blame his busy schedule; he doesn’t even have time for friends outside of school. The fact that no one even asks him out isn’t something he wants to think about. After he drops out of school and his mother leaves, dating and friendship don’t get any easier. He can’t let anyone he works with get close enough or they’ll find out his real age and utter lack of qualifications. Online dating is also out of the question for similar reasons. If one of his coworkers saw him with the age 19 in his profile they would either know he wasn’t actually 25 or they would think he was a creep and he didn’t exactly feel comfortable lying about his age to potential dates. Meeting people organically isn’t the worst thing in the world but it’s difficult. He makes a few passing friends at a local trans support group but even then, he can’t get close to anyone without risking someone discovering his falsified CV.

He doesn’t have his first real boyfriend until he’s 23 years old. They meet at a Holloween party thrown by a mutual acquaintance and date for almost five months before Martin ruins it.

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Dominick, I love you,” Martin says as he serves dinner.

“Oh, uh, it’s a little fast to say that, don’t you think?” Dominick had stammered awkwardly. Was it? It didn’t seem like it to Martin and even if it was, it was true. He loved Dominick.

“I-I don’t think so,” Martin replies nervously. Some distant part of himself starts to berate him for being so needy.

“It kind of is. Let’s just pretend you never said it and we’ll see how we feel in a few more months, ok?”

“You mean we’ll see how you feel,” Martin says a little bitterly.

“Why can’t you just relax and enjoy the holiday?”

Martin had sighed in resignation and picked at the rest of his plate. They broke up a week later because Dominick felt like they were “looking for different things.”

Martin doesn’t have another serious boyfriend after that. He goes on a few more dates over the years but nothing that lasts longer than five months. Nothing that lasts long enough to say “I love you.” In some deep dark part of him, he wonders if he was ever meant for love. His father hadn’t loved him enough to stay, his mother hadn’t said she loved him in over a decade, and he’s not even sure he was in love with Dominick. He gets crushes, sure, but he just throws himself into his work at the Magnus Institute instead.

Working in the library isn’t bad. He gets along with his coworkers well enough but he can never get close to them. Not close enough to love them as friends or be loved in return.

Then he gets transferred to the Archives.

Jonathan Sims is not the first asshole boss Martin has ever had. He doesn’t understand why Mr. Bouchard sent him down to work in the Archive in the first place and his first impression with his new boss is less than stellar when a dog follows him into the building. It doesn’t help that Jon is good-looking and every once in a while Martin catches glimpses of a version of the Archivist without a stick up his ass. Like when he spends Martin’s ice cream birthday talking about emulsifiers. If only he would be clearer about what he actually wants from Martin. No report or follow-up seems to be good enough, even with the help of Tim and Sasha.

Martin works hard for Jon’s approval. He doesn’t know why he wants the recognition but it’s either this or quit and he really, really can’t quit. So he spends three full days looking for every woman named Angela over fifty in Bexley only to be berated for actually talking to one of them and then he offers to look into a case about spiders that clearly upsets Jon only to get trapped in his flat by a zombie worm woman.

When he finally escapes, he takes a few worm corpses with him and he dumps them on Jon’s desk while he’s in the middle of a statement. Let Jon try and disprove that When he gives his own statement he makes special emphasis on reminding Jon how hard he worked to meet his exacting standards. He refuses to be yelled at for this.

Except Jon believes him. More than believes him, in fact. He offers Martin a place to stay. Of course that would be enough to ignite a crush in Martin.

As soon as they get to document storage Martin sits on the cot and begins to cry with exhaustion. He expects Jon to leave but again he surprises him.

“I-it’s alright, Martin,” he says awkwardly as he pats Martin’s shoulder. “You’ll be safe here and I’m certain Elias will respond promptly to my request for extra security.”

“Thanks,” Martin sniffs. He can’t remember the last time he cried in front of another person.

“Would...would you like me to stay until you fall asleep? If- if you think it will help.”

“Oh, er...no...I’ll be fine, thank you. You should be getting home, anyway. It’s Saturday, Jon.”

Martin blacks out as soon as Jon shuts the door to document storage. When he wakes up he finds his crush on Jon stubbornly still in place.

He can’t help himself after that. He starts taking special care of Jon in hopes of encouraging the kind man he saw that night into emerging. At the very least Jon doesn’t yell at him as much and he even thanks Martin for the tea he brings. It’s then that he notices other things about Jon, like how rattled he gets by certain statements and how he’ll often go an entire day without eating or drinking anything unless someone brings him something. That someone being Martin. He also notices how late Jon leaves, if he leaves at all.

It’s on one such night of Jon still being in his office at 11 o’clock that Martin knocks on Jon’s office door.

“Jon?” He calls gently.

“Hzzmt! Martin?” Jon responds, having been startled awake from dozing at his desk. “You should be asleep.”

“And you should be home.”

“I see your point,” Jon sighs. “I’ll finish up here and head home. Unless you need something?”

“Actually….I-I was thinking,” Martin beings. “Since I sort of kicked you off your cot...D’you want to come back to document storage with me? You know, get some sleep?”

“What?”

“Er...forget I-”

“The cot would be rather cramped with both of us,” Jon warns as he gets up from his desk. “If...if you’re sure you want me to join you.”

“Yeah...I thought you had work to do?”

“It can wait until morning, no use keeping you up longer than necessary.”

Martin only half regrets offering to share a bed with his crush. Jon was right, the only way to fit both of them on the cot is for both of them to sleep on their sides (or for Jon to sleep on top of Martin but even the thought has his face burning) and it’s difficult for him to fall asleep with Jon’s back pressed against his. It’s good to hear Jon fall asleep, though, and as time wears on it’s easier for Martin to goad Jon away from work to sleep a few hours.

The more of himself Jon reveals the harder Martin falls for him. Especially after Jon accuses him of being a ghost during the Prentiss attack. Even with the guilt Martin feels every time he looks at Jon mummified in bandages. That was Martin’s fault. If he had just paid more attention then he wouldn’t have lost Jon and Tim in the tunnels. He does everything he can to try and make up for it; despite Jon becoming more and more closed off by the day. Intellectually, Martin knows that Jon has gotten like that with everyone, but something deep down makes Martin feel like it’s his fault Jon’s gotten so cold. It doesn’t help that Jon seems to have gotten friendly with the policewoman investigating the murder of the previous Archivist. Tim even seems to think they’re having an affair which does wonders for Martin’s self-esteem. Jon wouldn’t be the first straight man Martin has ever had a crush on but Martin was pretty sure Jon wasn’t straight. Again, he wonders if he’s done something wrong to push Jon away.

After Jon stumbles out of his office covered in blood claiming to have had an accident with a bread knife Martin finds all the excuse he needs to regularly drag Jon to the canteen to make sure he eats something. The silences during those lunches are hard. They had eaten together before but now Jon wasn’t talking to him. The most Martin could get out of him were a few one-word answers. He tries not to think about how it reminds him of his mum.

“So,” he tries for the millionth time while Jon picks at his sandwich. “Did I tell you what happened while you were at physical therapy the other day?”

Jon doesn’t say anything but he looks up with a gaze that bores into Martin.

“Uh...A little girl came in alone with a statement, she must’ve only been eight years old,” Martin says. Jon looks at him with an expression that almost seems afraid. “Don’t worry, it recorded fine on digital. She walked right down into the Archive, walked up to my desk, and said ‘Excuse me. My name is Beatrice Walker and I’d like to make a statement about a supernatural occurrence.’ She sounded so grown up and she refused to leave until I had recorded her statement. Turns out her dad was using the library for research and she had just wandered off.”

“What was her statement about?” Jon asks to Martin’s surprise.

“Oh, a hamster with mysteriously changing spots.”

“Ah,” Jon replies thoughtfully. “Not much need for follow-up there, I suppose.”

“Not unless you really need me to track down the shop where her parents picked up the new hamster.”

He catches the briefest of smirks from Jon before the conversation dies again.

After that Jon’s coldness and paranoia comes out in the form of a screaming accusation over letters Jon found in the trash. Martin barely manages to make it to the bathroom before he bursts into tears after coming clean about his CV. Tim thankfully doesn’t check on him while he silently curses his taste in men. Jon doesn’t meet his eye for the next week in what he bitterly hopes is guilt. He does seem slightly more willing to talk with Martin at lunch, though.

Then Jon goes missing. After trying to get Martin and Tim to go home early because Jon was feeling under the weather; he disappears. Not before apparently bludgeoning someone with a pipe and isn’t that exactly what he and Tim need to see as soon as they get back from a two-week kidnapping by a spooky door monster?

With Sasha gone, Jon missing, and Melanie King being suddenly hired by Elias, whatever’s left of Martin’s relationship with Tim deteriorates. More so when Martin becomes the only one in the world to believe Jon could be innocent. It’s probably that that makes the police detective “investigating” Jon so actively hostile toward him. Apparently, people say he and Jon are “close” and that probably only means the lunch thing but he wants to imagine it’s something more. Like people are somehow picking up that Jon likes him back.

When Jon comes back to confront Elias it’s all Martin can think to do to fall back on his tea-making. He ducks into Jon’s office with a piping cup of the overly sweet tea he spent months perfecting to Jon’s taste and finds him with his face buried in his one non-bandaged hand.

“Jon?” He calls as gently as he can while he closes the door behind him. “I brought you some tea.”

It’s when Jon looks up that Martin notices the bloody mess down the front of his shirt.

“You’re hurt. Let me go get the first aid-”

“No!” Jon interrupts frantically. “Just...Could you just stay with me for a moment?”

Martin acquiesces and they sit side by side on the sofa in Jon’s office in silence until Jon starts sniffling into his tea. He offers Jon a hug and Jon all but dives into his chest to cry. It’s the saddest most broken thing Martin has ever heard and it’s all he can do not to pull Jon into his lap and curl around him protectively.

“Martin...I-I...I’m sorry,” he says quietly. “For everything. For Sasha and Prentiss and...and for the way I treated you. You didn’t….no one deserves that.”

“None of that was your fault and I sort of deserved it. I didn’t actually know what I was doing.”

“You didn’t deserve it,” Jon insists before going back to quietly crying into Martin’s jumper. Martin doesn’t respond. He can’t recall the last time someone’s apologized to him. At least not like that. He’d been told off most of his life for not doing things up to people’s standards. A few people over the years had told him he didn’t deserve it but Jon was the first person to apologize. No wonder Martin was falling in love with him.

Damn it.

Cuddling doesn’t become a regular occurrence for them by any means but Jon begins doing more to seek Martin out after that. They eat lunch together more often and Martin stays up late to talk to Jon while he’s abroad. It drives home how deeply buried into Martin’s heart Jon has become. Especially after he comes back after going missing for a month and has the audacity to joke about being moisturized by a clown mannequin for a month.

He wonders if Jon feels the same way. Sometimes Jon will smile shyly at him, and he can almost believe that Jon would be interested in a relationship if the world wasn’t ending. The last time they speak before the Unknowing they’re in document storage.

“Are you ready?” Jon asks as he shifts nervously.

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Martin signs. He heard what happened to Melanie. He knows what’s likely to happen to him. Some small part of him is screaming to just tell Jon his feelings like it’s the climax of an action movie.

“Stay safe,” Jon says.

“Come back,” Martin replies. Jon offers him a hug. It’s no movie kiss but it allows Martin to hold Jon as close as possible. Jon himself is hanging off of Martin’s neck and it feels like a final goodbye.

Then Elias confirms what Martin has always suspected deep down. That his mother never loved him or if there was a time when she did, she stopped when his father left. Even after everything. After he spent years taking care of her. After he had to quit school to care for her. All she ever saw was his father. All his transition did was to remind her further of how much he looked like his father’s son. At least it was worth it. To distract Elias so Melanie could find evidence to arrest him.

Then Peter Lukas shows up and reveals that Elias planned to get arrested. Worse than that, he offers Martin a promotion of sorts.

Then they get the news from Yarmouth. Tim’s body is found in a charred heap, Daisy is missing, and Jon is dead in all but brain activity. At least Basira is physically alive.

Martin spends as much time as he can next to Jon. He’s used to loving someone who can’t love him back. Maybe this is all he’s destined for. Love unrequited. He talks to Jon’s dreaming corpse. Tells him about his day, reads him poetry, even a statement, but nothing draws Jon out of his coma.

Then his mother dies. He barely has the emotional strength to mourn her. Instead, he scatters her ashes and mourns his childhood lost to trying impossibly to earn her love.

After the Flesh attacks, Martin makes a decision. He’ll join Lukas. It’ll probably lead to his death but what did that matter? His mother was gone and didn’t care about him anyway. Tim and Sasha were gone. Jon was basically gone. Basira and Melanie were the only people left that he vaguely cared about and by doing this he could at least protect them.

He visits Jon one last time in the hospital. He’s still covered in wires and his eyes still flit around violently behind his lids as Martin sits down next to him and takes his hand.

“Hey Jon,” he says quietly. “I...This is the last time I’m going to see you...Probably ever. I know, I know old dramatic Martin surely he’s exaggerating. I’m not. The Institute is in danger and...I have a way to keep Melanie and Basira a little safer, so I’m doing it. I just came by one last time to say...Jon, I...I love you. Goodbye.”

He gets up and presses a kiss on a part of Jon’s forehead not covered in wires before leaving. It’s alright that he doesn’t say it back. No one ever says it back to Martin.

When Jon wakes up everything becomes that much harder. Suddenly he had a reason to live and the way Jon pursues him makes him almost believe...No, even completing the thought would be dangerous for all of them. Jon trusts him enough not to be constantly badgering and that makes it worse. When Jon is there the Lonely makes Martin resent his presence and when Jon’s gone Martin resents his absence.

The final, most excruciating pain is when Jon comes after him in the Lonely. He’s excepted his fate in the chilling numbness of the Lonely. Maybe that’s why he says it. The certain, inevitable rejection would be numbed utterly. So he says it.

“I really loved you, you know?”

And Jon looks broken. Even after he rips Peter’s statement from him. Even when he reaches for Martin’s face with hands that seem far too warm and makes him See. Knowing Jon loves him isn’t like “knowing” his mother loves him. Instead of a lie born in Martin’s mind to stamp down the fear of rejection, it’s a reality pouring from Jon’s mind mingled with Jon’s fears of rejection.

Jon’s hands still feel too warm compared to the icy chill of the Lonely as he leads Martin out. Still, he refuses to let go all the way through the tunnels, the Institute, talking to Basira, packing at each other’s flats, and on to the train. The way to Daisy’s safe house feels like a blur and when they finally arrive it’s all Martin can do to remember to take off his binder before collapsing into bed with Jon’s warm arms around him.

He wakes to Jon’s quiet crying. The awful, stifled thing that breaks Martin’s heart.

“Jon,” he whispers.

“Martin? Did I wake you? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

“It’s alright, Jon,” he assures as he swaps their positions so Jon is tucked firmly against him. Jon makes another broken noise and Martin can’t stop himself from crying, too.

“I-I’m here, Martin. You aren’t on your own,” Jon soothes and Martin almost has to laugh. They lay crying and comforting each other until they both fall back asleep.

When they wake up properly they take stock of the safe house’s pantry and make a list of things to pick up in the village after breakfast. Martin gives in to the temptation to buy a new notebook to try and write poetry in. They have enough canned food to survive to the next ice age so they pick up perishable items like milk, bread, butter, and eggs. Jon also picks up fresh peaches and a box of Martin’s preferred tea. It’s easy to pretend like they going on a normal shopping trip as they walk up and down the aisles to check things off their list.

They return to the cabin and settle in. Martin sits on the sofa and tries to write out a poem while Jon tries to read a book from Daisy’s personal collection. After a while, Martin beings to feel Jon’s gaze on him.

“Is there something on my face?” He tries casually as he’s met with an expression he’s never been on the receiving end of.

“I was just thinking about how much I love you,” Jon sighs. Martin can’t stop the noise that comes out of him. All his life trying to earn love and Jon just says it while Martin’s thinking of a synonym for ‘yellow.’

“I-I don’t expect you to reciprocate,” Jon says quickly, his soft expression suddenly turning worried.

“But I do.”

“Oh…Oh!”

“Yeah.”

Jon starts giggling and it’s impossible for Martin not to follow suit until happy tears stream down both of their faces.

[spencesglasses]

sweet creature (spencer reid x f! reader) pt 1

A/N: I did it! I did change the plot a little bit so Spencer does know the reader instead of just meeting her at the BAU. This takes place around season 11/12. Please ignore any grammar or spelling errors hehe. Enjoy! <3

part two

Spencer weaves through the sea of people, heading towards a small coffee shop tucked between two lonely stores. The hustle and bustle of the market square was enough to make Spencer’s need for a serene atmosphere urge him into the cafe. A familiar scent fills his nose when he finally walks in: freshly brewed coffee and muffins straight out of the oven, he concludes.  

“Welcome in!” he heard someone call out from the back. “I’ll be with you in a second!”

He nods and claims his spot on the battered leather couch in the nook of the quiet coffee shop. The building was cold, despite the burning heat outside. Which was good, he supposed, he was never really fond of the heat.

“187!”

Spencer puts his attention to the woman in front of him. His eyes were stuck on her, and his thoughts drowned out most of his surroundings. She and Spencer had known each other for a while now, since the day he walked into her shop on an impromptu coffee run. Spencer went in with a frown on his face and left with a number memorised, but Y/N didn't need to know that. And that next Saturday they found themselves on his couch watching movies and cracking jokes through them all. By the end of their first movie, she was asleep so peacefully Spencer did not have the heart to wake her up. So he stayed there with her, throwing a small blanket over her and making a makeshift bed on the floor below her. Y/N left in the morning for her part-time job, a job he found out keeps her afloat when monthly payments come around.

“Hello,” sang Y/N, waving a hand over his face. “Earth to 187.”

For a moment, he feels out of place while the memory of them clings to him. “Huh?” he clears his throat. “Sorry about that.”

Y/N quirks her brow. “It’s alright, Mr. 187,” she pokes his stomach.

“Doctor, actually,” he grinned, shooing her hand away.

She moved away just before Spencer could poke the spot between her brows, and she made her way back behind the register. “Well, doc, you didn’t come here to sit and look pretty. Whatcha want?” Spencer’s face flushes and she watches him shake his head, as if it was a reluctant reply. “Unless you did come here to sit there and look pretty,” she laughs.

His brows furrowed. “What? I was ju-”

“I’m just messing with you,”

His lips curl into a gentle smile. “Oh,” he looks up at the menu. “You choose.”

“Oh, don’t say that, Spence, I’ll give you the most repulsive cup of coffee you’ve ever had.” she said with a smile.

“The most repulsive cup of coffee, but I’d still love it anyway,” he leans forward against the counter between them.

“And why is that, 187?”

“Because you made it,”

Y/N pushes his head away and starts on the ticket. “Such a charmer, Dr. Reid. So tell me, you use that line often, or are you just trying to get free coffee?”

Spencer taps his finger against his chin in a false ponder. “Both, but free coffee always makes my day.”

Her laugh and the smell of freshly brewed coffee are lively compared to the quietness inside the shop. Seeing her move so effortlessly around the kitchen had more of an effect on him than he’d care to admit. She puts a lid on the cup and pulls a pen out of her apron.

The buzzing of his phone in his pocket pulled him out of his thoughts. “I gotta go,” he said. “We just got a case.”

“Just in time, 187, your coffee is ready,” she slides the cup across the counter.

He takes out his wallet and pulls out a few dollars and Y/N shakes her head, “No need,” it was her turn to shoo away his hands. “It’s on me.”

“So I’m taking my charm worked?” he laughed.

Y/N held her hand over her chest and batted her lashes. “Oh, of course,”

“That usually doesn’t-” Spencer’s phone rang.

“You should go,” she checks her watch. “I actually have to go as well.”

Spencer tilts his head at her. “New job,” she continues.

“I can walk you out,”

“I’m sure the FBI needs you much more than I do, and I think-”

He interrupts her. “You paid for my coffee and the least I could do is walk you out.”

She paused for a beat. “Alright then, doc, I need to clean up a bit then clock out and I’ll meet you out front.”

Spencer nods, turning on his heel and walking through the front doors. She stared at the doors closing behind him, then got to work.

“I can do that if you like,” she hears her coworker, Anna, say. “I see you have a special someone waiting for you.” she wiggles her eyebrows.

“Oh please, Spence and I are friends,” she rolls her eyes. “Barely that, we meet each other a month ago and the only times I see him, or actually get to have a proper conversation with him, is when he stops by the shop.”

“Spence?” Anna repeats.

She arched one brow. “Yeah?”

“Nicknames already, huh?” Anna faked yawned.

She threw the rag she was using to clean the counters to her friend. “Just shut up and clean,”

Anna chuckled softly. “Have you told him, by the way?”

Y/N’s head snapped up. She did mean to tell him, but she just did never have the chance to. Now, she had two options: tell him now, or surprise him later.

She frowned deeply. “Not yet.”

-

Y/N hurried to the front and found Spencer leaning against the shop building, fiddling with his watch. The sound of the doors opening alerted him. “Ready?”

She hummed and held out her arm. “Ready.” Spencer linked his arm with hers, and they were on their way. Meanwhile, Y/N had something boiling deep inside her, her thoughts overflowing. Should I tell him now? Of course! This is the last chance you have! It’s not that big of a deal, right? She huffed, digging her nails into her palm.

Spencer’s eyes fall on her, quite literally having to look down at her. “Are you okay?”

“Huh?”

“I asked if you were okay,”

His voice catches her off guard, and she’s quiet for a moment. This is the perfect opportunity to tell him, Y/N. You’re making a bigger deal than it is. “Don’t profile me, 187,”

“I don’t need to profile you to know something is bothering you,” he separates their arms. “What is it?”

Tell him, Tell him, Tell him. “It’s really nothing,” she said. “I start at my new job today so I’m just nervous,”

This wasn’t a total lie. She was nervous. Who wouldn’t be nervous starting at a new job, especially the one she’s about to have. New people, new surroundings, and traveling every other day. It would be a huge adjustment considering the job she has now. Despite the nervousness, she was excited. She was ready for new and bigger things, things her current job could not give her.

“Hey,” he says softly, halting their movements. “You are-”

“Spence, we both have to go,” she snaps.

Spencer watches her as her feet carry her to her car. She didn’t mean to be so blunt. She knew she should just tell him and get it over with, but she couldn’t help but think about how awkward the interaction would be. She didn’t want to intrude. Dammit, Y/N. Why didn’t you just tell him when you had the chance? You’re making this so difficult! She shakes her head. It’s silly that she’s arguing with herself through her thoughts. “I’ll see you in a bit, Spence,”

He gave her a questioning look but before he can question her, she was off.

What is she hiding, he thinks.

-

The train to Quantico was brief, but it gave him time to be alone with his thoughts. What was she being so secretive about? And why was she going to ‘see him in a bit’. He knew he was thinking too much into it, but the profiler in him needed answers.

Spencer made it to his floor as soon as he could, realizing he was 30 minutes late. This wouldn’t be the first time he was late, but it was the first time he was late because he was with her. He rushed through the hallways not paying attention to his surroundings into he heard someone call his name, well his nickname.

“Boy wonder!” he halts and sees Penelope Garcia rushing towards him.

“You’re finally here,” she places her hand on his arm. “We have a case,”

“Hotch sent me-”

“And we have a new addition to the team!” she squeals.

Wait. New job. “See you in a bit”. It couldn’t be. Could it? Is this what she was so nervous about? Starting at the BAU? Not just starting at the BAU, joining their team. Being a new member of their tight-knit group. A new member of their family. Don’t think too ahead on this, Spencer, you don’t even know if it’s her yet. Don’t get your hopes up.

“Oh, you will love her! She fits in so perfectly!” Penelope tugs on his wrist, pulling him towards the wide glass doors.

The bullpen is lively. Everyone seemed happier, more joyful than they’ve had been in a while. His eyes roam left and right, trying to find if his conclusion was true. And there she is. Just as he thought. Y/N. Y/N sitting there with Hotch. And Morgan. And Tara. She sits there as if she has always been there, making jokes with everyone and already having a playful banter with Morgan. He knows Penelope was right, as always.

“Spence!” JJ calls. “Come meet newbie,”

Y/N’s and Spencer’s eyes meet, and they knew exactly what they were thinking. She gives him a sheepish smile and says, “Surprise.”

—

A/N: I just remembered that Emily is only in one episode in season 11 so you’ll probably only see her when I write out that episode and when I write season 12.

But anyway, first chapter! How we feelin’?

Feedback is always appreciated <3

[happytsukki]

me, you, and us.

t. kuroo

genre: angst

wc: 1.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

then there’s silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

i won’t leave you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[criminalminds4days]

Family Matters | Chapter 9: Apologies

Hello Everybody!!

Once again, I have forgotten to add my personal note to the episode and forgot it published today!

Sorry for all that, I have been having a really long couple of weeks, but hopefully I will get some time to review and edit the chapters I have before I publish in the upcoming weeks. Hope you enjoy this chapter.

Warnings: Swearing, sexual references, violence and murder references, public embarrassment, and very bad jokes!

Word Count: 4.1k

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @mcntsee @lets-be-gay-for-the-angel @evelyncade @haylaansmi @paulaern @myfandomlife-blog​

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(This gif is not mine)

Chapter 9: Apologies

"You snore." The woman said as she heard him approach the kitchen, his pants from the night before hanging loosely on his hips and the infamous sweater covering his chest. She was facing the counter, making her famous recipe of coffee, her back to him. "I don't mean it as an insult. Just thought you should know."

"You snore too." He spoke, as she turned to him, not registering his clothes. "I also don't mean it as an insult."

"Coffee?" He nodded and she placed the sugar on the table and poured two cups of coffee. "Are you wearing my sweater?" She questioned as she finally noticed. "Why?"

"Can I ask you where you got it?"

"Emily gave it to me on my first case. We went to get hot dogs-"

"Really? Hot dogs? Do you know the crap that is in a hot dog?"

"Spencer, I love hearing your fun facts and I absolutely love that you share them with me, but please don't ruin hot dogs for me. I just can't tolerate that." He rolled his eyes and smiled at her, and she returned to the topic. "As I was saying, we were eating hot dogs and I ended up spilling ketchup all over my white shirt, so Emily ran back to the hotel and got me the sweater."

"So Emily is the one that gave you my sweater?"

"What do you mean?"

"This is my sweater."

"Why did Emily have your sweater?" As a possible reason came to mind she almost choked on her coffee. "Spencer, did you sleep with Emily?!"

"What? No!" He said, his face showing disturbance at the thought. "Emily is a very attractive woman, but I have no romantic feelings for her."

"Hmm."

"I mean it. Don't get me wrong, I am loving this jealousy scenario we have going on, but nothing is going on between Emily and me."

"Then how did she end up with that sweater?"

"Well, I packed it on my go bag during that first case you worked with us. Morgan made fun of me by saying what you told me when we met and ended up leaving the sweater on his bed. Later that day you were wearing a very similar one and when I got back mine was gone. I concluded it was the same, but I had no clue how you got it."

"So, Emily somehow got the sweater from your room and gave it to me. Why did you never ask for it back?"

"Because that conversation would have been really uncomfortable!"

"Fair."

"Anyway, now I can take it home and the mystery has been fully solved."

"First off, the mystery has not been fully solved because we have no idea how Emily got her hands on it. Secondly, you are not going to get that sweater back, because it is now mine. I am fine with letting you use it from time to time, that way it will keep your scent, but that is my sweater now."

"But it was one of my favorite sweaters."

"And it is my favorite. Besides, I am your girlfriend now, I get to keep your sweaters and hoodies."

"I don't like that."

"Well too bad buttercup." Before he could protest, both of their phones rang. "It's Emily." She said, with panic.

"Hotch is calling me."

"Go to the hallway to answer, they can't find out we're in the same place."

"Good thinking." He walked outside.

As soon as the door closed she answered the phone. "Spencer is not here, why would you think that?" She said to the woman on the other side of the phone.

"I didn't think he was there."

"Of course you didn't. I just had a dream that you did and your call woke me up."

"Okay," there was a pause before she continued, "we have a case."

"I will be there in about thirty minutes. I have to go pick up Reid at his apartment. Where he surely is right now. Because that's where he lives, obviously."

"So you guys made up?"

"Yeah, turns out I was imagining things. Nothing to worry about, everything is back to normal. Nothing new, nothing predictable. Reid and I are friends as we were before, not anything less, and not anything more."

"You are seriously worrying me, do you want me to go get you?"

"No! I will be there soon. Bye!"

After hanging up she moved to her room to change, deciding to wear jeans and her favorite top. A couple of knocks on her door made her return to the living room. She opened them to find Dr. Spencer Reid and her neighbor, Mrs. Johnson smiling awkwardly at each other.

"What are you doing out here?" She asked.

"You told me to take the call out here, remember?"

"Oh right," she moved aside to let him back in, "why did you stay out there?"

"Because your door was locked!"

"Sorry, didn't mean to leave you out."

"It's okay, though we should stop by my apartment, I don't think showing up in the same clothes as yesterday will be good."

"You're right. I just wish the next time Hotch says we have time off we actually get the time he promised us off." She whined as she placed her hair in a bun, too lazy to do anything else with it, and knowing full well she would regret it once she had to brush her hair again.

"I will make sure to send out a communication to all serial killers when that happens." He said sarcastically, "also, please change. We said no blue, remember?"

"Can I wear the sweater then?"

"Fine." He took it off and handed it to her, who immediately used it to cover her favorite top. "Let us get going. We do not need any more reason to arise suspicion. It usually takes us between thirty-three and forty minutes to get from your apartment to the coffee shop, then to my apartment, and finally to the office, and I got off the phone with Hotch about three minutes ago, so we need to hurry."

"Yes, sir." She grabbed her keys and handed him his shirt that he had forgotten in her room along with his shoes and took her go-bag and keys, making sure everything was off and/or unplugged before leaving.

About ten minutes after she was waiting for Spencer as he ran to change. She thought of the first time, a couple of months ago when this all had started. She was waiting for him in that same car, as he got ready to pretend to be her boyfriend to annoy Anna. Now, she was waiting for him to get ready so nobody would actually suspect that they were dating and he had spent his birthday night with her. 

How the turns have table.

"Okay, I am ready." He announced, entering the vehicle. "Let's go to work."

"To catch a psychopath we go!"

"Actually, most of the serial killers and criminals we catch aren't psychopaths. There are a lot of narcissists, sociopaths, and pedophiles in the mix."

"Never would have guessed." 

After a couple of minutes of driving, Spencer reached out for her hand and intertwined their fingers. The gesture was romantic and heartwarming, but she was not used to driving with one hand. She tried for two lights to do so but eventually gave up, knowing they would get in an accident if she kept driving with one hand.

"This holding hands, I am here for it. I love the energy, but if I keep holding your hand we will die."

"Sorry, I have seen it in a lot of movies, it always turns out really well. I should have thought of the real-life consequences." He said letting go of her hand, she placed a kiss on his cheek before letting go of the break and continuing to drive. 

"As I said, I love the thought, it's just that I am the clumsiest person to have ever lived and I am not a good driver as it is so I am trying to not get us killed."

"I know."

"So, how do we make this work?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I am trying really hard not to pull over and make out with you in my car again, so how are we going to make it work, without arising suspicion among anyone in our team?"

"We are profilers, how hard can it be to hide our emotions?"

"Apparently really hard, because everybody knew we liked each other but us."

"True, but if we keep acting as we did before, maybe they will think it is only because we are still in denial."

"I don't see a single flaw in your logic." 

As she undid her seatbelt after parking, he made sure no one was around before placing a soft kiss on her lips. How on earth was Spencer Reid so good at being a boyfriend? He was like everything she had dreamed about and they had only been dating for about eighteen hours! He gave her a soft smile and exited the vehicle. He waited for her, as he usually did but didn't attempt to open the door for her, as the one time he had tried he had received an hour-long lecture on how opening a door was not difficult and she did not need his help to do so.

They made their way to the round table and found all their coworkers sitting. JJ gave her a smirk as if her question from the night before was still as amusing as it was then. She tried not to hide under a rock and took a seat next to her. The blonde pulled a box of chocolate glazed donuts.

"I am sorry for eating it."

"JJ, I honestly wasn't that mad about it." She said but still took the box. "However, my mom did teach me to never say no to a gift." She offered the blonde one and this one took it. "Sorry for being a jerk to you."

"It's okay. You have feelings for Spencer and thought I was getting in the way, I mean, I can see the appeal but he and I are just friends."

"It's not that I have feelings for him." She lied, "cheating is something I just can't get past. But now I know it was silly to think that."

"You are absolutely right. I love my husband, and while Spence will always be special to me, it's not a romantic kind of special."

"I know."

"So, shoot your shot. I have a pretty good feeling he feels the same." She winked.

"Let's not go there!"

The woman laughed, inciting her to follow. She couldn't help but feel giddy. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Her eyes met his, a smile playing on his lips. She winked and returned her attention to the food in front of her.

As they made their way to the hotel, she was paired with Emily as it usually was and they both made their way to their room. They laid their bags on their bed and sat for a couple of seconds before heading to the police station. Her friend looked at her as if analyzing her behavior.

"Something is different."

"Yes, we are not in D.C. anymore."

"No, that's not it." She observed her for a couple more seconds. "You're glowing."

She tried not to give herself away, her body language and micro-expressions as controlled as possible. "No, I'm not."

"Spill it out."

She knew denying it any longer would be a mistake. "I met someone." She said.

"What do you mean, you met someone?"

"I'm dating someone." She admitted.

"Does Spencer know?"

"Yes, I told him last night. After I drove him home and he's happy for me."

"What's his name?"

"I'm not gonna tell you because then you'll go and tell Penelope about it and you'll stalk him." And because his name is Spencer Reid, she avoided saying.

"I'll be right back."

A couple of minutes after Emily left, her phone buzzed with a text message from Dr. Reid.

Why is Emily in my hotel room hugging me and telling me everything will be alright and that you'll come around?

She fought the urge to laugh, but it was in vain. Instead of responding to the text, after composing herself, she decided to make her way to his hotel room, not before reviewing a text from Hotch urging them to make their way back to the police station.

"What are you doing here?" Emily asked as she opened the door. The woman entered, looking for the doctor.

"I could ask you the same thing. Where's Spencer?"

"He had to go to the bathroom. Why?"

Before she could answer the bathroom door opened and Reid emerged, a face of relief as he saw her. She tried to hide her smile.

"Hotch needs us at the police station."

"Oh, right." The woman made her way to the door, "our conversation isn't over Dr. Reid." She said before exiting the room.

"What did you say to her?"

"I told her I was dating someone." She replied.

"Why would you do that? We can't be dating, you know?" He asked anxiously.

"Relax genius, I didn't tell her you were my boyfriend, I said I met someone but I didn't want to tell her because Garcia would stalk him, which is true by the way."

"Did you tell her I knew?"

"Yes." She nodded.

"Well, that explains it all." He said, she raised an eyebrow, questioning him. "She knows I had a crush on you, so she probably thinks I have a broken heart or something."

"Why did you tell her?"

"It was more like she told me."

"Did she make you list my qualities?" She asked, and he nodded. She reached up to his tie and pulled him closer. "Can I hear them?"

"No, it will only boost your ego." He quickly placed a kiss on her cheek and pulled back. "Now let's go, we have a job to do." Before he could get too far, she had pulled his tie, making him now stand at mere inches from her. "I don't think this is a good idea." He whispered.

"I'm full of bad ideas." She said with a wink.

"What on earth is happening right now?!" Emily's voice made them jump.

"Spencer had his tie crooked, I was trying to help."

"Bullshit!" The woman cried. "Is this really happening? Is my ship finally real?"

"Way to go, miss bad-ideas."

"Shut up." She responded and turned her attention back to Emily. "Sweetie, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Drop the act, Blackwood." The woman said, using her mother's last name. "You two are dating, aren't you?"

"You need to promise you won't tell anyone." He said.

"Spencer!"

"What? There was no way she was gonna buy any excuse, we might as well just tell her now."

"I can't believe it?! How long has this been a thing?"

"Just since yesterday, but we mean it, Emily. None can know. Especially not Hotch."

"I know, but this is just so exciting! I get to be your guys' cover-up!"

"I am serious Emily, you can't tell anybody. And please, act normal. We work with a bunch of profilers, if we aren't discrete they will figure us out."

"Says the one that blew our cover after only twenty hours," Reid mumbled.

"Watch it genius." She reprimanded.

They made their way to the police station after receiving three calls from Hotch urging them to hurry and using the disappointment card due to their lack of professionalism. They made their way through the station and joined the rest of the team in the briefing. 

As it turned out, there was an unsub abducting people and making them place calls to estranged family members or past loved ones. The call usually consisted of a request for forgiveness, when the person granted it, the person was released as far away from their abduction site as you could get, if there was no apology, the body of the caller appeared near the great salt lake. Turns out Utah was not as quiet as she remembered.

"Any insight?"

"This unsub is clearly taking apologizing to an extreme. I have to question who he really wants to punish." Spencer said, and all eyes turned to him. "On the one hand, if you've wronged someone and they accept your apology, you deserve to live. If they don't, you deserve to die, so we can assume that is the punishment. However, if the person does not accept an apology they will have to live knowing this unsub killed the person they used to love or used to be close with simply because they couldn't accept an apology."

"The question is how this unsub is getting the information needed to choose their victims," Hotch added. "And why them, why punish both parties, how does this satisfy his needs?"

"This is gonna sound pretty obvious," she spoke up, "but I think this unsub has mommy or daddy issues." She coughed, clearing her throat, "what I meant to say, is that the unsub sees himself as portraying one of these roles. I can discard the role of the caller simply because of the way the victims are disposed of. No care, they are simply garbage. It seems clear someone wronged him and he is trying to get back at them."

"Well, we aren't sure it's a he." Rossi pitched in.

"Women are not subtle about this. If the unsub was a woman, there wouldn't be as many victims. She would simply go to the source." she reminded him. "If this was a woman, one of the first victims wouldn't have made a call, but every single one has."

After more analysis and a well-established profile, they were directed to question some potential suspects. Reid, Prentis (who had begged Hotch to join them), and she made their way to the house of Lucas Heavensbee. A man who seemed to fit their profile but was still being stalked by Garcia for any link.

They knocked on the door and made sure to identify themselves as FBI agents.

"So, aren't you guys gonna hold hands or something?" Emily whispered after the other girl knocked on the door again.

"Do you know how impractical that would be?" Reid responded.

"You guys are no fun!" 

Before she could remind her best friend of where they were, the man they were looking for jumped out the window. "Suspect is running!" She informed and chased after him, really glad she wasn't wearing heels at that particular moment. 

Though even if she had, there wasn't much that would have changed, as after five minutes the unsub stopped and started breathing heavily. "Give me two minutes and then we can continue running," he said.

"Nice try buddy, but you're coming with us." She approached him and cuffed him. "Now that you've made us lose our time, I hope you will be a little more considerate and cooperate with us.

"Depends, are you gonna interrogate me?" The man played with his eyebrows.

"She's taken, you creep," Emily said.

"Agent Prentiss!" Spencer grabbed her by the arm and dragged her to their SUV. After they were settled, with Emily behind the wheel and Spencer in the front seat, she placed the man on the left-back seat and took the right.

"This is the nicest car I have been in, I have to say, being arrested has its perks."

"Please do not try to start a conversation while we take you in for questioning."

"Tough crowd." 

They entered the police station and placed him in the interrogation room, none of the team members ready to question him. They still had to come up with a strategy.

"Lucas Heavensbee. Twenty-nine. His dad abandoned him and his mother after this one had a miscarriage. A couple of months ago, his mom died of cancer."

"Told you guys it was daddy issues." The woman said and approached the door to the interrogation room. "Guess I'll take this one."

"No," Spencer spoke up. "That is exactly what he wants, besides, we don't have a strategy yet."

"I do." She said, turning to face Hotch. "I know how he thinks. In his mind, there are two types of people, nothing more. He will not crack under pressure, he has designed himself to shield any attempt to invade his thoughts from someone who isn't like him."

"How does that help us?" Derek asked.

"Because I was him. I of course didn't murder anyone, but I thought like him for a really long time."

"Are you sure about this?"

"Yes, I need to go in alone." 

"Go then. Leave the camera on, so he knows he's being watched, it might give you the edge you need." She nodded and made her way in. The guy was so obvious about the issues he had, she almost felt bad for him. That was if he hadn't decided to kill innocent people. He was even good looking. If she didn't have a boyfriend and he wasn't a serial killer, she would have even flirted back.

"Well, if it isn't the cute agent."

"Well, if it isn't another guy with daddy issues." She answered as she made her way to the camera and turned it on. "How about you tell me what I need and we get this over with?"

"Now, honey, I am not that easy. At least take me to dinner first."

On the other side of the mirror, Emily and Spencer had placed themselves under Aaron's orders. He wanted to make sure the interview went well and if she needed moral support, the two people she trusted the most would be there. The rest of the team was going over the evidence, as at the moment everything seemed purely circumstantial. 

"This guy is a jerk." The man said.

"It's a façade, it's all about appearances. He's testing her."

The woman took a seat and opened her file. "Your dad left when you were ten, soon after your mother lost her baby, that must have been hard."

"Oh please, as if you would know anything about that."

"What hurts more, losing a sibling, losing your father, or losing your mother?" He banged the table with his fists. "Hard to choose, makes sense."

"You didn't even blink." He noted, a smile spreading across his face. "Was it your mom or dad that hit you?"

"That is none of your business and it is irrelevant."

"It was your dad, wasn't it?"

"If you must know," she paused, looking slightly at the camera, "it was neither of them. I grew up with cousins who didn't like me very much. Now, stop acting like your some kind of macho man when we both know you're nothing but a sexually frustrated man who can't seem to get over his father leaving so he decided to take it out on people who were innocent and had nothing to do with his little show!"

"Ah, now there is the real you. Feels good to be free, doesn't it." His view changed directly to the mirror, "Who's on the other side? Your boss?"

"No, all of my team is making sure you never get out of prison."

"Is that why they sent you here? Because you were of no help out there?" 

"No, they sent me here because I am the only one that understands your punk phase. I too had one. The difference is I outgrew it and it outgrew you."

"Did your dad leave?"

"Let me make a deal with you since you seem determined to snoop at my business. I will turn that camera off, and you will write me a confession. If I am satisfied with it, I will answer five questions. If I am not satisfied, you get to rot in here."

He smiled as if hearing those words was all he wanted. "Deal, agent."

"It's doctor, actually," She clarified. "You have twenty minutes."

She exited the room to find herself faced with Spencer Reid.

"Are you okay? Did he hurt you?" He asked as he examined her, "you are not going back in there."

"I have exactly what I need. I am definitely going back in there, now can you please stop? You are not being very subtle right now."

He let go of her and moved closer to Emily, suddenly aware of what he had done. 

"Is there anything that can put him away?"

"Not unless we get a confession." She looked at the man, who was writing on a notepad that had been placed there when he arrived. "Why does he have to be handsome?"

"I know, right? If he wasn't a serial killer... Ugh, you cannot find men that look like that anymore."

"Excuse me?" Her boyfriend asked.

"Are you gonna tell me he's not hot?"

"Just because I think he is, does not mean I want to hear you say it!"

The man placed down the pencil, signaling he had finished. Now was the time to beat him at his own game. 

[misscorn]

Day 7

Favorite Series

I think its no surprise that sekaiichi hatsukoi is my favorite series @sihjrweek ❤❤ this has been fun! Thank you everyone for your nice words about my fics which ended up becoming a 'they never broke up' au lmao and thank you @sekaiichis for hosting 💕💖💕

***

Onodera Ritsu was an easily flustered man. So, it was moments like this when his lover was asleep that he took the opportunity to admire him. Normally, Ritsu wouldn't be able to so blatantly stare without his boyfriend making some sort of comment. So, the brunette had to take what he could get. The aforementioned boyfriend, Takano Masamune, was very handsome after all. Not that Ritsu could ever let him know that. He already had such a big head.

Yes, Takano and not Saga, but Ritsu and his high school sweetheart hadn't suffered a breakup. In fact, his high school sweetheart was the one in bed with him right now. Unfortunately, Masamune's parents had gone through a divorce and Masamune found out the man who raised him was not his real father. Thus, the name change. It had been a difficult time, to say the least. It was not something either of them enjoyed reminiscing about.

Ritsu had been very worried when Masamune told him everything that happened with his parents. He was concerned not only for Masamune's well being, but also for their relationship. Masamune had the tendency to push everyone away when he was hurting.

Ritsu had been afraid of being annoying or making things worse, but he stayed by Masamune's side through the whole thing whether he wanted him to or not. There had been definite moments of tensions, moments where Ritsu thought Masamune might be slipping away from him, but in the end they got through it together.

The habit of carrying all your burdens by yourself was one that both Ritsu and Masamune had to overcome, neither of them used to relying on someone else during rough times, but a lot had changed over these past 8 years. That included Ritsu moving into Masamune's apartment after he graduated from his University. Masamune had offered Ritsu to move in with him much sooner than that and as much as Ritsu would have liked that, Ritsu knew he'd never get any schoolwork done with Masamune around.

Ritsu sighed contently as he watched Masamune sleep, reaching out to gently brush some of his hair out of his eyes. He smiled affectionately, his hand moving down to cup his cheek with a feather-light touch.

Masamune turned his head and kissed the palm of his hand, making Ritsu jump. "Good morning." He greeted gruffly, his voice rough from just waking up.

"G-g-good m-morning." Ritsu went to pull his hand away, but Masamune held on to it and continued to press kisses against it.

"Please, feel free to keep staring." He said between kisses.

"I was NOT staring." Ritsu quickly denied.

"Mm, you're getting better at lying. Should I be worried?" Masamune asked.

"Shut up." Ritsu said.

Masamune smiled tiredly. They both had today off, so he was looking forward to spending the day with the brunette. Both men worked as editors, Ritsu working for his father's company in the literature department and Masamune working for a magazine called Weekly Earth, but both of them were starting to consider leaving their positions due to trouble with coworkers.

"What do you want for breakfast?" Masamune asked.

"I thought it was my turn to make breakfast."

"I don't mind."

"Just say you hate my cooking." Ritsu said, making Masamune laugh.

"Yeah, I hate your cooking."

"Jerk."

"You know I'm joking." Masamune gave another sleepy grin. "But if you wanna cook that bad, be my guest." He said.

Ritsu sat up and stretched a little. "I'm gonna shower first."

"Is that an invitation?"

"No." Ritsu rolled his eyes, used to the casual perversion.

"What if I crash the party anyways?"

"Go back to sleep if you're gonna be annoying." Ritsu stood, his words holding no real bite.

Masamune laid there contently, watching Ritsu walk off to the bathroom before he rolled over to grab his phone. He scrolled mindlessly for a couple minutes before Ritsu's ringtone went off. He set his own phone aside to check the caller ID, wondering if it was An or another friend of Ritsu's that he knew.

Mom

Masamune frowned and rolled back over to face away from it. 8 years later and Masamune still hadn't met Ritsu's parents. Ritsu had met his mom in high school, albeit it was an accident. Masamune thought the two of them would be alone all night and his mom ended up coming home while Masamune was being very affectionate with Ritsu on the couch.

It had gone okay after Ritsu stopped losing his mind and Masamune had gotten over the embarrassment. Masamune didn't have a lot shame, but no one wanted their mom to walk in on them making out with their partner.

Kotoko had been certainly shocked at first and while she didn't love the idea of Masamune having a boyfriend, she was not going to try to get in the way.

Ritsu probably only saw her once more after that, but it made sense since Kotoko was not heavily involved in Masamune's life, if at all.

Ritsu's mother on the other hand...

Ritsu visited his parents' house about once a month, though somehow he managed to keep them from coming over here, and he got frequent calls from his mother, usually about marriage. That silly engagement between An and Ritsu had ended a while ago, but that didn't stop Youko from trying. She was starting to try to set up match making sessions as well.

Masamune sighed, some of his good mood stolen from him as he stood and put a shirt on. He then slid into the bathroom to brush his teeth, Ritsu already in the shower with the curtain closed.

"I come in peace." Masamune said before he grabbed his toothbrush.

"I didn't say anything!"

"Yeah, but you forget that you think way too loudly. You were definitely yelling something in your mind about me being a pervert." Masamune said, his tone giving away his amusement.

Ritsu just grumbled something intelligible as Masamune brushed his teeth. The older man actually kept true to his word and didn't jump Ritsu in the shower, even if he wanted to. Instead he left to go into the kitchen.

Masamune decided he was too impatient to wait for Ritsu to finish his shower, so he put on a pot of coffee before starting breakfast.

"You do hate my cooking." Ritsu said, coming into the kitchen just as Masamune plated the food.

"I didn't feel like waiting." Masamune shrugged. "You want coffee?"

"I shouldn't." Ritsu sighed. He was getting addicted to the stuff.

"So, that's a yes?" Masamune asked, already pouring the hot drink into two mugs, adding creamer and sugar to Ritsu's and leaving his own black. They sat down together, Ritsu thanking Masamune for the meal.

The two ate in silence, which wasn't unusual, but Ritsu could tell there was something on Masamune's mind. He seemed a little more spacey and there were no attempts to hold his hand or make any flirty comments, which just wasn't like Masamune at all.

"What's wrong?" Ritsu asked.

"Hm? Nothing, nothing's wrong, I was just thinking..." He trailed off, taking a deep breath and bracing himself for the response he might get. "You...want to marry me, right?"

"M-M-Marry you?!" Ritsu was glad he hadn't been drinking or eating at that moment because he surely would've choked on it.

"Yeah, not right now, I want to propose in a more romantic way than that, but like...you do want to marry me, right?"

Ritsu blushed a deep red. Masamune had to fight back a smile at the sight. It was nice to know that after so many years Masamune could still make him blush like that.

"Y-Yes, o-of course I want to marry you, b-but why are you suddenly asking about this?" He asked.

"...Your mom called while you were in the shower." Masamune said honestly.

"Eh?! Did you pick up?" Ritsu asked. Did Masamune talk to his mom? Not only that, but did Masamune talk to his mom about MARRIAGE?!

"No, I didn't, but I know she's always trying to set you up and it just made me start thinking about us." Masamune said. "I want to marry you, Ritsu. I want that more than anything in the world and honestly I want to do it soon. The only thing that could make me happier than waking up next to you is waking up next to you as your husband." Masamune paused briefly before he spoke again. "But, unless we're going to have some sort of secret ceremony...I need to meet your parents."

'A secret ceremony wouldn't be too bad, would it?' Ritsu thought. It sounded like a great idea! He was in no way, shape or form prepared for Masamune to meet his parents! Oh God, Ritsu felt like he was forgetting how to breathe.

"Hey." Masamune recognized that panicked expression, reaching out to hold his hand tightly. "It doesn't have to be today, tomorrow, or this week. It doesn't even have to be this month. And you have to remember that you're not alone in this. We're gonna get through this together."

Ritsu took a deep breath and nodded. As terrified as he was, he knew Masamune was right. His parents were constantly asking to visit his new apartment, his mother was still trying to set him up with women, and Ritsu wanted to take the next step in his relationship with Masamune. None of that would be resolved until Masamune met them.

"Okay...so, what's the plan? For when you meet them."

"I'll dazzle them with my charm, of course. Your dad will be begging to give me his blessing to marry you."

Ritsu laughed, making Masamune smile. "And if you somehow don't dazzle them and this blows up in our faces?"

"Impossible."

"I'm serious, Masamune...they could disown me." Ritsu's smile was gone now.

"I know. And if that happens, there isn't really anything we can do about it. But, in the end it's their loss and I think they'd eventually realize that." Masamune said.

"And if they don't?"

"I'm not gonna lie or try to sugarcoat it, it'll fucking suck. It'll hurt. You'll feel betrayed and abandoned and angry, but you won't feel like that forever. Trust me when I say you eventually stop caring about your shitty parents."

Ritsu took another breath and squeezed Masamune hand. "I'm visiting them for dinner next week. Come with me."

"You're sure you'll be ready by then?"

"I'll be scared, but...I want to marry you, Masamune. I've wanted to since I was a kid and I don't want to wait much longer."

Masamune couldn't help but to smile. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Once they were finished breakfast, Masamune insisted on cleaning even though he had cooked.

'If he does this too often I'll get spoiled.' Ritsu thought as he went back into his room to grab his phone. He went to 'missed calls' and dialed his mother back.

"Good morning, mom." He greeted when she picked up. He spoke quickly before she could go off on some tangent about some 'lovely young lady' she'd recently met. "About dinner next week...there's someone I'd like you to meet."

[sparkkeyper]

Whumptober 2020 Day 17: Dirty Secret

Aziraphale is repressed as heck where Heaven and his bosses are concerned, but drunken rambles with Crowley are cathartic.

***

"Aziraphale!"

Aziraphale nearly jumped off the park bench as the archangel clapped him jovially - too hard, always too hard - on the shoulder. "Gabriel!" He had a smile pasted on his face in record time, trying to cover up the shock of his boss' sudden appearance. "What a pleasant surprise! I-I wasn't expecting to hear from you for some time yet."

"Well, looks like your lucky day." God's messenger beamed down at him - it never reached the eyes quite right, must be a defect of the corporation - keeping the principality's shoulder in an iron grip. "It's been a while since we had a good chat, so I thought I'd stop in to give you your next assignment personally."

Aziraphale's face hurt from the smile. "How thoughtful. You're, ah, you're always welcome, of course!" He gestured to the bench beside him but Gabriel remained standing - he didn't even acknowledge the motion - his eyes alighting on the book in the principality's lap.

"Aren't you done that by now? I thought you were reading that...thing...last time I popped in, half a century ago?"

"Oh, this?" Aziraphale closed the pages to show off the cover. "I-It's a new book, actually. Much different than the one I was reading before. That was fiction, this one is an educational work on--"

Gabriel grabbed the book right out of his hand and every muscle in Aziraphale's body tensed up - to keep from doing something stupid, anything stupid, stay still, and don't let him see how stupid you can be if left unchecked too long - as the archangel flipped through the pages. "'A Brief History of Time'. Why would you ever need to know this? You've lived through Time since She began it. You haven't misremembered significant events from history, have you?"

Aziraphale chuckled - too tremulous, too nervous - but Gabriel did not smile back. "No, no of course not! I remember everything perfectly, as She intended." He swallowed. "The book is an introduction to quantum physics: the current science humans have developed in an effort to understand the workings of the universe. Quite a bit of it is wrong, of course, all that silliness about the galaxy being billions of years old, but they try. And they have managed to get some of it right. They've made such a lot of progress in the past few thousands years, for such short-lived individuals it really is remarkable--"

"Why do you need to bother reading this?" Gabriel's expression was blank - not blank, condescending, judging - "You know the workings of the universe, or at least all those that we need to know. The rest She has decided to keep to Herself, and we have no need to understand."

"Of course, of course!" Aziraphale's fingers itched to grab the book but it hadn't been offered back to him yet. He straightened his bowie instead. "But I...I must know how humans think the world works, you see. In order to communicate with them properly. I can't go giving away Heavenly secrets when humans haven't figured them out yet, can I? I've got to keep abreast of what they know and don't know so I can...speak to them on their level, as it were."

"I gotcha." Gabriel tossed the open book back to him, and he fumbled to catch it without scrunching up the pages. No such luck. "They're so bafflingly simple! It must be exhausting for you, having to dumb down every conversation you have with them. Don't know how you do it."

Aziraphale dared to smooth the pages by hand exactly once in Gabriel's presence - don't care too much for material things, don't care too much for the people who make them - and smoothing them by miracle was out of the question. "I manage."

"Excellent. And you can keep managing." The archangel handed over a folded slip of paper with a golden seal. "Next assignment. We'll need you in Algeria next month. Big earthquake planned, you'll have the opportunity to do a lot of Good there."

"I'm...looking forward to it."

"I bet you are. See you at your annual review." And with a shimmer, Gabriel was gone.

Aziraphale tucked the assignment into his pocket and closed his eyes, the only outward reaction he allowed himself to show. Inside he was hollering. Inside he was sagging and baring teeth and kicking up a fuss.

Stop it.

Of course he wasn't doing any of those things because he had control of himself, and after all they were completely uncalled for. Completely. It was just a visit from Gabriel. He had no reason to react in such a way.

It took several minutes of sitting perfectly still on the bench to convince his body of that fact. It was difficult when his heart was racing and his fists were clenched but he managed. He always managed. He had to.

When he opened his eyes to return to his reading at last, he found a small scrap of paper tucked between the pages like a bookmark. It certainly hadn't been there when Gabriel handed - threw - the book back to him. Flipping over the note, he recognized Crowley's untidy scrawl.

Dinner tonight? If I don't bitch to someone about my coworkers I'm gonna explode. -C

Aziraphale did sag this time. Just reading the words was like a weight sliding off his shoulders. He tried very, very hard not to think about that fact. Or the fact that such a note had shown up right after a visit from Gabriel.

He gave himself a moment to exist - revel - in the feeling of relief, then very carefully collected himself and reached into his pocket for a pen. He scribbled a reply on the paper and with a snap, willed it back to wherever it had come from.

Be here by six and not a minute after. - A

***

Dinner was Italian, and delicious. The wine afterwards in the bookshop's back room was equally Italian and equally delicious.

Crowley sprawled across the sofa, one leg up on the back and several bottles in, and ranted about Hastur in a series of increasingly-less-eloquent turns of phrase. Aziraphale leaned heavily over the arm of his own chair, an equal number of bottles in, and agreed emphatically to the insults the demon heaped on his boss. It was relaxing to listen to Crowley ramble. If his unfortunate interactions with his lower downs seemed familiar... Well, best not to think on it. And he didn't have to think on it, not with Crowley. He could sit back and listen and add in a few scornful words against whomever had ruffled Crowley's feathers this decade.

"Not an ounce of doco...decorum between them," the demon was saying. "Not a one. Rude as...rude things. And your higher ups, bet they're just the same. How've they been lately?"

"Oh, you know," Aziraphale waved the question away, steadying himself on the chair as the motion overbalanced him. "Can't complain." It was true, he thought, and giggled a bit at his private drunken joke. He couldn't complain. No matter how much... Well. He couldn't.

"Aw, come on, I gave you all the juicy bits." Crowley hung his head backwards off the arm of the couch to regard the angel upside down. "There's got to be something ol' Gabe does that gets on your nerves. Or Michael! Real stick in the mud, that Michael. Stick in the mud and straight up the arse."

"Oh hush, you." The angel tossed a coaster at him. "They're perfectly stand-up people, as they're supposed to be. Divinely dictated and...and such." The demon, still upside down, pulled a face to let Aziraphale know exactly what he thought of that. "Although, d'you know--" Aziraphale hiccupped, "--Gabriel doesn't even know to clip the...the whatdyoucallits. The thread on the back of new coats that keep the tails closed. The ones you're supposed to clip. Just...walks around with the thread still in like...like someone who doesn't know how to clip things."

Crowley cackled, rolling upright again and contorting on the couch in a manner Aziraphale didn't know was physically possible." Bet he doesn't know to clip the thread holding the tiny pockets closed either."

"He doesn't!" the angel exclaimed with far more delight than was necessary. Something warm and petty and satisfying was settling under his ribs. Threads and pockets were good. Safe. Unsafe thoughts still hovered just beyond the edges of his mind, but he didn't have to look too closely at those when there were safe things like fashion faux-pas he could inject their venom into. "He was telling me just last month how silly humans are to make pockets that are decorar...dectora...just for show, and he used his own coat as an example! I tried to tell him, I said, I said 'Gabriel, you can cut those open you know' or at least I would have said it but I couldn't get a word in edgewise. And he still hasn't figured it out!"

"Point for me!" Crowley stabbed the air like a contestant on a game show. "I came up with those, didju know? Sewing the tiny pockets closed? And I got an archangel with it, so plus one to Hell!"

Aziraphale barked out a laugh that was too loud, too explosive, but heavens did it feel good. "Did you really? Or did you just take credit?"

"Absolutely came up with them." Crowley puffed up his chest with pride. "Annoys loads of people when they wear clothes out for the first time and go to put something in the pocket but find they don't have any scissors. I wrote a whole report on it for Hastur--" he lowered his voice to a hiss and leaned in conspiratorially. "But mostly I just think it's funny." He broke into a drunken giggle and Aziraphale followed. "Pro'lly never read the report anyway, Hastur." The demon tried to pour himself another glass and missed, missed, got it. "Tha's another thing that drives me up the wall, nobody reads the blessed reports half the time!"

The angel groaned in commiseration.

"I spend all that time putting the thing together, crossing the I's, dotting the T's--"

"You don't dot T's," Aziraphale interrupted.

"Dot my T's if I like," Crowley shot back.

"They'd look very silly."

"I'll dot your T's."

"Suppose we'd look silly together at least."

"Damn straight." Crowley paused. "What was I taking about?"

"T's," the angel supplied helpfully.

"Reports! Right, nobody reading the fu- You spend all that time on them and nobody appreciates the work!"

"Aggravating," agreed Aziraphale sourly, because of course it wasn't against any rules to repeat someone else's whinging back to them.

"Exasperating!"

"Infuriating!"

"And you know what else is infuriating?" Crowley put both feet up on the coffee table and stretched. "They had me Downstairs doing paperwork all last month and Ligur comes by while I'm trying to cross reference soul contracts and just snatches the ledger away while I'm working."

"The nerve!" Aziraphale snorted disdainfully, taking a long pull from the wine.

"I know! Had so many ways I wanted to react I couldn't choose!" Crowley gestured to him, and if Aziraphale had been a touch more sober he might have caught a glint in the demon's eye. "What would you do, angel?"

"What?"

"You. Imagine you're in Hell, doing paperwork and minding your own blessed business, making sure all the T's are dotted, and Ligur comes up out of nowhere and snatches your book away! What do you do to him?"

"I should like to snatch it right back!" Aziraphale slapped the cushion next to him. "And then give him a good whack with it! Serves him right!"

"Aye! Serves 'im right!" Crowley echoed in fierce delight, lunging forward to clang his glass against the angel's in a sloppy toast.

And when the wine wore off several hours later, Aziraphale would admit to himself that he felt so much better.

***

*The book is 'A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes" by Stephen Hawking

**The 2003 earthquake in Algeria killed ~2200 people. Gabriel is an asshole.

[dirt-cup-draco]

Remus x Reader- May You Love Her As I Love You

Can I request an scenario with Remus Lupin having a fiance that disappeared for 13 year because of the Death Eaters but then she came back because she was found. But he was married, so after the war ends and after thinking a lot about it he asks for divorce to be with her again. 

Hogwarts had been turned into a battlefield, carnage everywhere. The sun was high in the sky as neither side wanted to give any slack. They had to keep their boundaries while trying to push forward. The Death Eaters were greater in number than Remus had anticipated and he was growing tired despite trying to keep them back. 

While dodging spells and trying to save overwhelmed students and cornered professors, Remus had caught sight of someone darting behind a corner with such speed he was certain he’d imagined it. More than that, he was certain the person he’d seen, or not seen, had to be imaginary. You had been dead for years and that was a burden Remus still bore on his shoulders. 

Remus shook his head violently right as a bob of brown hair returned into his view. Tonk’s hand was warm in his and she dragged him out of the wreckage and into a momentarily unpopulated space of the castle. “You’ve got to pay attention,” She stressed with urgency in her voice. 

Remus took a deep breath and nodded, kissing her forehead in thanks. “I know... Silly as it sounds right now I just felt like I’d seen a ghost rounding the corner of the school,” 

“I hate to say it love, but we’ve got ghosts all around us now,” Tonks frowned deeply and Remus stroked her cheek before pushing the corners of her mouth up. “I’d like for you to not be one of them,” She spoke through his poking and it brought a more genuine smile to her face even if it didn’t reach her eyes. It wasn’t the time to smile. 

“And here I thought you were trying to get rid of me,” Remus teased, kissing his wife softly- afraid he would lose the chance to do so. 

“Oh hush, you old grump,” Tonks poked fun, kissing him back before her posture stiffened and that fiery spirit filled her back again. She’d needed to see Remus, needed to know he was okay. Now that she knew he was, she could go back into the heart of the battle. “I love you,” She reminded him, squeezing his hand before running away.

“Love you too,” He called out after her but he doubted she could hear him over all the noise. Remus clenched his fist, holding onto the warmth a bit longer. Tonks had been his peace of mind and a reminder that there were still good things in the world. James and Lily had been ripped from him in a second. Sirius being sent away had seemed like the worst that could happen. He had spent so many years hating his best friend and believing lies that when Sirius had come back he’d been too relieved to think anything could get worse.

He had been wrong and when Harry had come to him with anger in his heart and tears in his eyes he had known that something had happened. Losing Sirius all over again had caused him to block out the people he cared for most and he had neglected Tonks for months after. It had been his sudden fear that if she stayed with him, she too would lose her life. He’d already lost one wife and losing another seemed unbearable. 

It had been nearly two decades since he last saw you. You’d made a gorgeous breakfast while he’d been getting ready for his day and he’d come downstairs to see you setting the table, humming as you twirled about the kitchen. You’d worn some shorts and an old Gryffindor t-shirt of his that was faded nearly beyond recognition. It had always been your favorite and when you snuck into his dorm at night to fall asleep curled up beside him you always requested (demanded) to wear it. 

You had both spoken of trivial things that morning, reading the paper and rolling your eyes over the gossip articles. He’d held your hand while he drank his coffee. You’d snuck a chocolate bar into his jacket pocket when he wasn’t looking. When the clock struck seven, he had rose from his seat and you’d followed him to the door. 

You’d kissed him like you always had and he had smiled against your lips because no matter how much time passed he would never get tired of the feeling of you pressed against him. Everything had been blissfully ordinary. 

Remus hated remembering what had occurred next while he had been away. He’d gotten home to find the door to your cozy one bedroom home wide opened, the wood splintered around the handle and one of the hinges had come loose. He’d gone into a panic, running around your small home screaming your name. He’d found a vase shattered on the ground, drops of nearly dried blood on the carpet. You’d been stolen from him, but worse than that he hadn’t been there to keep it from happening. He’d eaten the lunch you’d packed him, talked to coworkers, done paperwork. All while you’d been dragged, kicking and fighting and afraid. 

It didn’t take long for Dumbeldore to come to him with the same pitying look he’d grown accustomed to over the years. His adolescent life had been full of dreams and hopes for the future. He’d dreamed of having a home with you and having all his friends over for dinners. You’d all see each other at least once a week and you’d all grow old together with kids of your own who would befriend one another. Instead, the friends he considered family and the woman he loved more than there were stars in the sky, were taken from him and he was left empty. 

He loved Tonks, was happy she could love a man like him, but painted on the backs of his eyelids were the faces of everyone he’d lost and your loss still pained him the most. You had been his soulmate and he hadn’t gotten even a fraction of the years he’d wanted to spend with you.  A not-so-distant boom, accompanied by a bone rattling quake through the stone beneath his feet shook Remus from the nightmare he found himself trapped in every time he closed his eyes.

With a muttered curse and the resolve to ignore his ghosts, Remus ran back into the chaos.

--

You nearly tripped over a slab of concrete when you’d seen Remus. He’d been standing still, eyes surveying the battle as he caught his breath. He looked old, defeated. But he was still the same handsome man you had loved with every bit of your heart and more. You forgot yourself for a moment and when he began to look your way you gasped and darted around the corner, legs moving quicker than you had in ages. 

There wasn’t much to do when you were in hiding, you could only jog up and down the stares so many time to cure the boredom and you had read every book you owned four times over in the past thirteen years. You cleaned every square inch of the place to pass time but even that grew difficult as you found you didn’t have much to clean when you did it every day. Alastor Moody had kept you some company when he could, he would bring your groceries and despite the permanently sour look on his face you found a good friend in him. 

When he’d stopped arriving, you’d gotten the terrible news that he’d been killed. It was hard losing another friend. Especially when you couldn’t reach out to the ones that were still living, still growing and laughing and smiling and loving... You had so hoped that Remus would be one of them and that he hadn’t forgotten how to love once you’d disappeared. It had been Dumbeldore’s decision to tell him you were dead.

“We cannot know how long you will have to stay hidden... Why give a broken man hope when that hope may be the thing that destroys him? It is, regrettably, our only decision. You will only bring him pain otherwise,” He had told you in the first week of your disappearance when you had grown restless and wished to have your husband by your side. Remus and you had been inseparable since your first year of school and being without him had seemed like hell. It was hell. You thought sourly, the past thirteen years having gone by slowly and painfully. 

The headmaster had given your love some time to come to terms with the tragedy that supposedly befell you, and then he had torn the bandaid off the wound that was bound to fester and told him you were killed. You tried to believe that was the best decision. And now, it seemed you were forced to. 

You rounded the corner but paused once more as you heard Remus’ voice floating from an empty hall. There was a chunk of the wall that had been blasted out and you could easily hide behind a crumbling slab without being seen. You watched as a pretty woman held Remus to her, love and concern vibrant in her expressive eyes. His smile was small, hesitant even with the current events, but genuine. He was in love. It was hard to see but you knew it would have been harder to see him lonely. Just like you. 

As he ran off you righted yourself, grip around your wand tight again as you searched for stragglers who intended to cause more destruction and the wounded. Minerva, Moody and Dumbeldore were the only three who knew you were living and well. With two of your secret keepers dead, Minerva had taken it upon herself to tell you of how grievous things had become.You hadnt taken a moment to think about it, you had gone to her and asked how to help.

Despite her initial upset, it was decided that when a battle began- “and there will be one, I can promise you that Miss. Y/L/N” Minerva had said- you would join and help fight for the children. You were not to approach Remus and it was in everyone’s best interest if you stuck to the shadows. Dependent on the outcome, you’d be free or a dead woman. 

Collecting yourself, you weaved through the wreckage with sharp eyes, tuning out the screaming voice in your head that told you to go to Remus. 

--

It was with bated breath that everyone waited when victory was announced. Victory was a bitter taste in the mouths of all who had lost a parent, a child, a friend. It seemed too good to be true that the war was over, Voldemort defeated once in for all. It seemed like a nightmare that the living couldn’t wake from. Many crowded to view the bodies, hidden by white blankets. Some looked peaceful, their expressions like that of someone sleeping. Others died with a scream that had been permanently etched onto their face. Some were missing parts of them, the sheets soaked through with blood. 

The wails of mothers and the disbelieving expressions of the students around you were nearly too much to bear as you walked in the shadows. The mourning was stifling and deep and you hid behind it- observing. Your heart pounded with fear as you tried to get a look at the killed and injured. Was Remus there too? You had to know, despite Minerva’s warnings. She’d been the one to tell you when he married again and you loved and hated her for it. You were glad to know he was happy but a bitter and lonely part of you hated that he was happy without you. 

You could only feel relief now however as you spotted Remus’ wild hair, his pants tattered and a very obvious hole at his knee. Dirt was smudged against his cheek but you could see a clean trail through it as he cried. Exhaustion weighed him down as he slouched. His hand was intertwined with someone’s and your heart twisted as you recognized the woman as his wife. You hadn’t asked Minerva for her name, not wanting to hate someone who you knew was probably a lovely person. 

She was laid out on the ground, eyes closed but you noticed, with a bittersweet feeling, that her chest was still rising and falling with determination. It seemed you had stared a bit too long however, because the next time you went to observe the man you had hoped to spend the rest of your days with, he was staring right back. The blood had drained from his face and his mouth hung open. 

You were frozen to the spot as he ran a shaking hand through his hair as he continued to star at you, his wife’s hand falling from his grasp as he rose on trembling legs. His mouth moved, a whisper of your name that didn’t quite reach your ears but you had stared at those lips more times than you could remember and it wasn’t hard to know what he had uttered. He took one step toward you and it caused your chest to restrict with panic. 

Run you fool! Apparate! Anything! You aren’t a ghost and he’ll realize it soon if he hasn’t already. He’s happy and you’re ruining it!

It seemed no matter how much you demanded yourself to you were stuck in the same position, knees locking into place and arms stiff. When you failed to disappear, Remus’ steps grew more reassured and determined. He was nearly upon you, you could hear the sound of him breathing and see the stubble dappled across his cheeks and the fuller mustache that he had always been adamant he’d never grown when you’d first been married. 

You were so close you could touch him and oh how long it had been since you’d felt his familiar warmth... Your breath hitched and his eyes grew wide at the sound of it. Your time was running out. 

You ran. 

--

Remus stared down at Tonks, her face free of wrinkles and worries as she lay unconscious. He held tight of her hand and stroked the skin there with his thumb, wishing she would give him one of her gorgeous smiles. “Please wake up darling....” He begged as a few tears escaped him. She gave no response and his battered and beaten heart ached in his cheat. 

It was then that the hair on the back of his neck stood on end and a chill traveled down his aching back as he sat up straighter, rubbing the tears away as he searched around the crowded area. Death hung heavy in the air and when his eyes found the source of his discomfort he was sure that you had come to haunt him. You looked as beautiful as you did the day you’d been taken. 

Yet, you looked older. Your hair was longer than he remembered, wrinkles apparent on your forehead as you looked the the left of him, your eyebrows knitted together in thought. Your gaze shifted and suddenly he found your eyes staring into his. He thought he imagined it when you went still, eyes wide and lip tugged between your teeth. It couldn’t be. He told himself yet he looked to Tonks and set her hand down gently against her cot. 

“Hold on love, I’ll be back soon,” He promised to his wife as he tried to find the strength to go to you. Had he died? He wondered as he walked on autopilot past his mourning peers. Was he one of the dead, buried beneath a sheet and now roaming aimlessly. Had you come to collect him?

It seemed impossible solely because of the ache that permeated his entire being. Surely death would have freed him from his pain, not trapped him within it. 

“Y/N,” He tried, the sound of your name odd in his mouth and guilt sunk in his stomach like lead in water. 

You stayed frozen and he nearly feared that he was hallucinating until he was only a few paces from you. Your chest rose quickly and he heard your sharp inhale. Y/N, his Y/N, was breathing. The sound knocked his own breath from his lungs and he hesitated long enough that when he came back to the present, you were spinning on your heel and darting from the ruined castle. 

“Wait!” He hollered after you, voice cracking like it had when he was a teen. You’d been quick to defend him back then when Sirius’ and James’ teasing had become insufferable. 

You didn’t seem to hear his words, or you chose to ignore them, as you continued to escape him. His legs were growing stiff in the joints from endless, brutal full moons. It was hard to keep up with you but he was determined to reach the ghost that had been torturing his sleeping and waking moments for thirteen years. 

Your feet carried you all the way to the Black Lake, a place where you and Remus had spent many evenings watching the sun set. You paused, head spinning on your shoulders as you caught your breath, wondering where to run next. 

Remus charged forward with renewed vigor and caught your forearm in his grasp. You involuntarily jerked away and he tightened his grip. He had been half expecting his hand to phase through you and now that was proven incorrect, he wasn’t sure what to think. He opened his mouth to speak as you turned towards him with pain in your eyes. Unsaid regrets and untold secrets swam in the depths and he wanted to dive in and learn the truth. 

“Rem-” You were the first to speak and the sound of your voice nearly broke him as his knees buckled. Your own legs felt weak beneath you and you sank beside him as he kept a tight hold of you. 

“Why?” He interrupted, breaths coming quick as he stared at you. Remus didn’t know if he was furious or crushed or over the moon. Maybe all three. “Why is my dead wife haunting me?” 

Your words betrayed you as they got stuck in your throat. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears and you gripped his shoulders to steady yourself. 

“Why are you alive?!” He croaked, voice rising with his mounting confusion and hurt. How could you be here? How could you be in front of him, living and breathing and wonderful while the woman who had stayed, the one who had picked up his broken pieces was back in the crumbling castle fighting to stay alive? 

“I’m so sorry,” You choked out, cheeks glistening with tears. “I so badly wanted to tell you...” 

Remus felt like the world had slowed but his thoughts had sped up beyond his comprehension.He didn’t know what to think, what to feel. He was waiting for you to fade away, a distant memory brought on by the battle’s trauma. Yet your hands were warm and strong against his shoulders and it couldn’t be denied that you were living.

“I had to hide, we’d be killed otherwise and I couldn’t risk you!” You tried explaining. “I wanted so badly to tell you, to let you know I was okay but Dumbeldore h-he said it’d only bring you pain if I said anything and I couldn’t do that to you...” 

Remus scoffed. “You think I haven’t been in pain? How would you feel being abandoned by the only person you have left? I had no one! James- dead! Lily- dead! Sirius- imprisoned and then murdered!” Remus’ voice was growing in volume and you winced against the painful truth he spat at you.

“I watched the people I loved most die and disappear around me and all I had was you to keep me together. You made it bearable, you made it okay to look forward to another day. And you’re telling me you faked your own death to keep me from hurting? I will tell you one thing Y/N, I never stopped hurting!” 

His tears were burning against his eyelids as he let them fall to the grass beneath him. “I never once stopping missing you, wishing they’d taken me instead. I went to your grave every day for months until I couldn’t bear talking to stone any longer. I married the most brilliant, loving, forgiving woman in this world and I still only see you when I close my eyes. Because I love her, but I love you...” He choked out as the truth burned him. 

Remus felt sick as he fell apart in front of you, your own sobs mingling with his as you leaned against one another. “H-how am I supposed to face her knowing you’re alive? How am I supposed to go back to her and pretend that you aren’t out there somewhere?” 

“No,” You shook your head, eyes startled and so, so sad. “No Remus, you can’t say that! You are going to go back to your wife and you are going to forget this ever happened,” 

“I can’t! I can’t forget you no matter how much I wish I could!”

Your heart was being torn in two. You couldn’t be the woman to take Remus away from the life he had built here, yet you wanted nothing more than to be that woman. You wanted to have him as your husband again, you wanted to find another sleepy little cottage to live in. You wanted to make him breakfast in the morning and read the newspaper, you wanted to fall asleep beside him after tracing his scars and playing with his hair. You wanted him back. 

Your bottom lip trembled and Remus cupped your cheek in his gentle hand. You let out another sob as you leaned into it. How many days you had woken wishing to hold his hand, how many nights you had fallen asleep wishing his hands were on you. “How can I ever stop loving you-” Remus whispered. “When I know you’ll always look at me like that?” 

You gave him a weak smile as you held his hand against your cheek. His nose brushed against yours and you had to bite back a whimper when his lips hovered less than an inch away from yours. “I love you Remus,” You reminded him as you began to shake. 

“I love you too,” He mumbled as he connected your lips. You kissed back with all you had held back in the years you couldn’t be with him. Your tears mingled with his and all you could taste was salt and not the normal sugar you came to relate with Remus. 

You had to pull away as your breath was stolen from you and another sob wracked through your body. You let out a pained cry as you began shaking your head. “I love you so much,” You hiccuped. “Please forgive me,” 

“Of course!” Remus rushed to say, hands cupping your cheeks. "I forgive-”

“Somnium” You interrupted, lips skating across his once more as his eyes rolled back in his head, shoulders slumping as you gathered him up in your arms. You held him tight against you, knowing your time was limited and the sleeping hex wouldn’t last long but you weren’t ready yet. You didn’t think you’d ever be ready.

Despite the longing that was ripping you to shreds, you couldn’t let Remus tear apart the love he’d found. You had been so ready to be his again, to find that cottage and live that dream. But he had been right, she had been there putting him back together and you hadn’t. You’d left him alone and vulnerable. You couldn’t put her in the same position by stealing away the man she adored, and the man that so clearly adored her. “I hope you meant it when you said you’d forgive me,” You cried out, placing a tender kiss to Remus’ forehead. 

Closing your eyes, you shielded yourself from the face that would make you hesitate. Your hand shook as you attempted to raise your wand, pressing the tip of it gently against Remus’ temple. “May you love her as I love you. I am only but a ghost to you now,” 

Obliviate. 

Tag List: @angelinathebook @thehumanistsdiary @cleopatera

[summerdazegobye]

Journal Entry - October 1st, 2021

It’s now October and I can feel 2021 quickly slipping away. This time of year always brings about reflections for me. It’s interesting that in the fall, time seems to pass more quickly than it did in the spring. The summer flew by too, perhaps because I was enjoying it.

This year started out really rough and I had predicted that the rest would be much of the same. To my surprise, the first quarter of this year was the low point and my life has improved drastically since then. In January this year, I caught covid at my job, during my first week back after working from home for nearly 9 months. Needless to say, I was pissed and that incident later led me to quit my very good paying job. I recovered from covid with a new appreciation and perspective on my health. Covid changed how I smelled, tasted and desired. The processed foods I grew up eating no longer appealed to me. I couldn’t bare to eat it anymore. The only thing that my stomach could handle was more natural foods, like fresh produce. It’s sparked an awareness of my horrible relationship with food, something I’m working on everyday. 

Post-covid, I was struggling to stay afloat mentally. I was trying to balance working full time, taking graduate classes, conducting tele-therapy with children as an intern for the first time ever with no experience, and being a human with needs, desires and relationships. This was honestly the worst semester of school I’ve ever experienced. To make matters worse, in February, my sweet lil ferret Nova got hit hard with cancer and we had to put her down. It was very sudden and one of the most painful experiences I’ve been through. Nova meant the world to me. She had the brightest soul. The kind that would change the entire vibe when she scampered in the room. She was also so sneaky too. I’ve come to cherish the moments I had with Nova and I so very much appreciate the time we had together. Like all horrible things, there was some positives to take away. Nova’s death sparked a birth in me. I renewal of life. She taught me what was truly important in this world. Grieving my precious ferret baby allowed me to release all that I can’t control. Since then, my spiritual journey has taken off and I’m more aligned with my soul and purpose than ever.

As the months progressed, I finished my second semester of graduate school with much relief. It was a difficult semester and I took a very needed get away to the mountains of NC, on our annual family vacation. This yearly trip consists of the people in my life that are so close, they might as well be family. It was a great time full of love, good food and a healthy dose of mind-altering substances. This trip is particularly significant to me because of the relationships that were formed and the conversations that later led me to important personal discoveries. My mountain adventure was the start of a fun-filled summer that involved lots of self-reflection and growth, traveling and learning how to release things that no longer serve me. By June, it was very clear to me that my job was not in alignment with my higher purpose and was only a means on income. It had become a place where I had been disrespected so many times, in the most subtle ways. And I let it happen because I could always ration that the money was worth it. I thought good money was worth being told I wasn’t allowed to share my opinions because they were different or that I should wear a bra because I was a distraction to my coworkers. This experience was brutal and degrading, but I’m honestly so thankful for it. I will let this story stand as a reminder that nothing is worth trading my self-respect. To this day, I am still so proud of myself for standing up for myself and quitting that job. 

The rest of the summer was a haze of freedom, good times and genuinely living my best life. It was the first time in my life since I was 14 that I didn’t have a job or any responsibilities. I had the time, space and energy to pursue whatever I desired, and boy did I discover so much about myself. I became obsessed with spiritual/personal growth and took some deep dives in my own shadow. I focused on simply existing and let myself follow whatever came up for me. This magical period abruptly ended by the start of classes mid-August. I wasn’t ready to give up my time and energy for an institution I felt had already failed me. And it was quite a rough transition. I found myself having lots of sad days again. As a social work masters student, it was very apparent that the systems that are in place to ‘help’ people are the very thing that creates obstacles and stressors. I don’t see an effective way to fix the systems so I feel like the only solution is to dismantle them and create more effective ones. It seems silly to me, like we’re sweeping the floor wearing muddy boots. There’s no point. Yes, of course these people need help and we should do what we can to assist them. However, if we all focused on creating a better world and society, I know we’d be able to thrive. Anyways, that’s a whole other conversation for another day.

Fast forward and it’s now October 1st. I still feel trapped by school but I’ve adjusted to my new schedule and I’m able to have meaningful experiences that don’t make each day suck. I’m excited about the future and feel confident that I can create the life I want and enjoy. I know that I can shape my reality by speaking my intentions and desires to the universe. I feel intrinsically connected to the collective consciousness. I’m amazed at how things seem to just work out for me, which is a stark contrast to how I felt about most of my life until this point. I find it quite comical how powerful we are as human beings and I’m excited to continue to develop as a soul and energetic being. I’m excited about the new experiences I haven’t had yet and the downloads I’ve yet to receive. Life is scary and daunting but also so very beautiful and exciting. I’m so very grateful for this life. 

[lances-wormhole]

Temporary Decorations (DaiHaru One Shot)

This Christmas fit is really late but I hope that doesn’t make it irrelevant haha

Please leave a Kudos/comment on my Ao3 page if you have the time <3 thank you and enjoy :)

(Cut was added to prevent a long post. Rest of the fic is below said cut ^^)

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

“What’s your problem?” Haru scoffed, giving Daisuke a particularly dirty look as the millionaire stared him down.

Daisuke knit his eyebrows in contemplation, taking in Haru’s whole appearance instead of speaking up immediately. Although he has seen ugly sweaters so many time on so many other people, usually when passing by people on the street, or vague memories of the christmas parties his mother would tend to throw when he was younger, he had not even imagined that Haru would be someone to take part in such a silly and strange tradition.

Upon not getting a response, Haru let out another scoff and walked over to him with his arms crossed; which legitimately looked difficult considering his sweater was decorated with large pom poms, ruffles, and ornaments. Daisuke couldn’t help but wonder whether or not his chest felt heavy with the hideous piece of clothing.

Despite its ugliness, however, a small smirk snuck its way onto his face. Haru craned his neck down at him as if to say are you serious right now? But Daisuke couldn’t help it. No, this man in front of him looked somewhat cute, even with the foolish holiday attire.

“Never took you as one to wear something like this.” Daisuke finally said, shrugging off his jacket to hang up on the coat hook by the office’s door.

“It’s Christmas,” Haru countered, rolling his eyes. “Besides, the others kind of pressure me into wearing one with them every year.”

Daisuke looked over towards the back of the office where Mahoro and Shinnosuke busied themselves with a cheap, fake christmas tree, that looks like it has seen way too many years. He frowned slightly at the display.

Haru, immediately catching on to Daisuke’s expression, let out a long sigh. “Oh I bet you’re comparing the tree to your own thousand foot one back at home, huh?” He spoke both sarcastically and accusingly.

Daisuke looked away from his other coworkers who were currently struggling to keep the poor tree upright, the bells on Mahoro’s sweater jingling with every movement. “I don’t have a tree at home.”

His partner raised an eyebrow in confusion before letting his face soften at the sudden admission. “Oh. Didn’t mean to assume you celebrated christmas or not.”

“I did…” Daisuke said slowly, suddenly remembering he was just awkwardly standing at the doorway and moved to sit at the small lounge area. “My mother was a big fan of christmas time. She would decorate the mansion head to toe with little help from the maids and butlers. It wasn’t until after she died… we just stopped.”

Although he spoke in such a monotonous voice, Haru could tell that he had gotten himself into unknown territory. Unsure of himself, Haru sat himself down in a chair across from the millionaire. “Excuse me for overstepping any boundaries with your family but maybe you should try decorating your place up a bit. Suzue might appreciate it, right?”

Daisuke examined Haru carefully, thinking to himself that he wouldn’t really mind him ‘overstepping boundaries’. “So this is the only time in the year you would want me to waste money on something like temporary decoration?”

Haru pouted, leaning back in his chair. Daisuke watched as the ornament hanging off his sweater rolled lazily against his abdomen before snapping his eye back up to meet Haru’s. “I’m not saying you have to waste your money. Start small or something. Like a tree. I can help you.”

Daisuke grimaced, glancing back at the piece of junk that was now leaning up against the back wall. “No thank you.”

His fellow inspector let out a snort. “We’ll get a real tree. Not everyone likes fake ones. I only use them because they’re cheap and reusable. However my mom always liked to get a real one back home.”

Daisuke looked back at him at the mention of Haru’s childhood, not used to hearing much about it.

“We can go after work today,” Haru offered, searching Daisuke’s eyes carefully, “if you’d like?”

With little thought, Daisuke nodded in agreement, getting up to message Suzue about his new plans for the day.

***

The trees were picked out greatly by the time the duo made it to the tree ranch, most likely due to the fact christmas was only a few days away. When Daisuke had brought up this fact, Haru brushed the thought aside saying “christmas leaves an aftertaste for the rest of december and a bit of january”, and then went forward, continuing to inspect every tree he came across.

Daisuke watched as Haru lifted a tree off the ground, brushing the snow off its needles to get an accurate reading for its size. “This one is nice, right Kambe?”

The millionaire looked at the tree up and down, delicately placing his hands in his pockets. “It’s lopsided.”

Haru scoffed, spinning the tree around carefully. “That just builds character. Besides, we can always hide the bad side against the wall.”

“We?” Daisuke hummed.

The inspector stayed silent for a good couple seconds, opting to look anywhere except Daisuke as his cheeks grew rosy.

“No matter. This one is too small.” Daisuke sighed, continuing to walk down the row of trees, stepping carefully due to the snow and ice on the ground.

“There’s not many large ones to choose from,” Haru grumbled, placing the tree back down on the ground, rushing to catch up to the other man. “Some people get Christmas trees the size of houseplants so it’s not like it's that important to get one the size of the eiffel tower.”

“My mother used to get large ones to put in the parlor,” Daisuke continued, stopping occasionally to look at one of the trees laying on the ground.

“Well unfortunately there isn’t a whole lot of time to decorate something that big.” Haru huffed, “We can do that next year. Besides, smaller trees can be charming once we get it all decorated and lit up.”

Daisuke couldn’t help the small smile on his face as he looked back over at his partner. “You’re very insistent on this ‘we’ aspect. As if it is also your tree being brought to your home.”

Haru suddenly stopped walking, stubbornly scooping snow off of the ground and chucking it at the millionaire in a haste attempt to cover up his flustered state. “Shut up.”

Not expecting the snowball attack, Daisuke sputtered and looked down at the powdery white snow covering the front of his jacket before forcing a nonchalant expression. “Very mature of you, inspector.”

Growling, Haru packed up another snowball and threw it at him again. This time hitting Daisuke’s shoulder (who just stood and let it happen). “Even when I’m doing something to make you feel better this holiday, you can’t help being a little shit, Kambe.”

Daisuke brushed the snow off his coat and stepped over to Haru who was glaring daggers at him. “Why do something nice for me, then?”

“Because,” Haru started, looking back and forth between Daisuke’s eyes cautiously, “Because you’re not–”

“I’m not what?”

Haru gulped as Daisuke became uncomfortably close, scrunching his nose as he leaned backwards slightly.

“Haru.”

At the sound of Daisuke actually saying his first name, Haru snapped out of his mindless thoughts and shoved a hand full of snow into Daisuke’s face.

Stumbling backwards, Haru hurriedly picked up the tree he had lifted earlier and called an employee over, ignoring Dasiuke who was currently frazzled as he spit the snow out of his mouth. “We’re–You’re getting this one. Like it or not.”

***

After the long struggle of trying to transport the tree into Daisuke’s home (which consisted of Haru trying to roll the tree up the steps of the mansion, Daisuke standing off to the side taking secret screenshots, and Suzue having to actually go outside in the cold to do most of the work), Haru found himself in a slightly awkward situation.

Having heard that they were coming with a christmas tree, Suzue took it upon herself to go searching for her late aunt’s holiday decorations deep in the family’s personal archive. She seemed rather gleeful, despite Daisuke’s obvious discomfort amongst the old ornaments, stockings, lights, and et cetera.

Haru didn’t quite know why he was still there. The tree found it’s home drilled into the antique tree stand that Suzue had dug out from one of the bins. He even volunteered to water it himself and thank Suzue for all her help on Daisuke’s behalf. However, his partner remained quiet throughout all of this, keeping his eyes trained on the decorations as if they were capable of coming to life and jumping at him.

“Thank you for doing this, Mr. Katou.” Suzue whispered graciously, folding her hands neatly behind her back. “Now that he has found peace with his mother’s death, I think this is the best time we could have done this sort of decorating again.”

Haru frowned, glancing over at her before looking back at Daisuke. “I wouldn’t say he’s at peace. He obviously still has his barriers up.”

Suzue let out a half hearted chuckle, looking over at him as well. “Although he may have found closure, he still has dreadful memories of the whole thing. That’s not so easy to get over. I don’t expect him to ever get over it.” After a pause, Suzue let out a soft sigh and turned to walk towards the hallway. “I’m going to go help the staff with the decorations elsewhere. Maybe you can try to get Lord Daisuke to hang up the stockings? Or at least hang up a few ornaments?”

Haru hummed, finally looking away from Daisuke to give her a gentle smile. “I’ll try my best.”

She smiled in return, giving a curt nod before leaving the parlor.

Shrugging off his coat and placing it over the back of a loveseat, Haru walked over to where Daisuke stood, still staring down at the bins of decorations. “Unfortunately there is no device that will do the decorating for you, you know.”

Daisuke pressed his lips into a tight line, bending down to pick up an old Santa hat that was packed between a few boxes. “I know that. Just seeing this stuff again is odd.”

“I’ll bet.” Haru said patiently, glancing down at the hat before offering a smile. “You know… when I was younger, my mom used to play Christmas music while we decorated. She’d dance around and place me on her shoulders so that I could reach the highest part of the tree.”

Daisuke examined his partner for a second before speaking, “is she…?”

Haru inhaled slowly through his nose, forcing his smile. “She’s still alive, if that's what you’re asking. She just got married to my step mother, moved far away, and had a new family elsewhere.”

Daisuke furrowed his eyebrows, looking at the other man’s eyes carefully.

“Not like we left on bad terms. I never knew my father as he died before I was born, so she held on and loved me so deeply when it was just us. She’s just… not good at balancing two lives I guess. Only had the time to focus on her first life, and that was not me apparently.”

“Do you wish to see her?”

Haru swallowed, thinking over the question. “Sometimes. I don’t know what I would do if I did, though. I just don’t want to die without hugging her one more time. Like I used to.”

Daisuke couldn’t help but smile at the answer, looking down at the hat once more. “HEUSC, play christmas music. Turn the fireplace on as well while you’re at it.”

Haru yelped as the fire suddenly sparked to life at his side, stepping to the side quickly, only for Daisuke to halt him by placing the Santa hat onto his head. He blushed lightly, taking in the sudden atmosphere of english christmas music as Daisuke watched him with interest.

“My first decoration.” Daisuke noted, flicking the pom pom of the Santa hat out of Haru’s face.

***

A giddy feeling of joy seemed to warm its way through Haru’s chest upon watching Daisuke decorate the tree. From time to time, he swore he could hear the guy humming to the christmas songs (mostly just the slow, calm ones) with his deep, slightly raspy voice. Haru even had to sit down after hearing Daisuke hum alongside the smooth voice of Nat King Cole, needing to calm his beating heart and burning cheeks before he made a fool of himself.

“I should get going soon.” Haru sighed, looking out the window towards the night sky. “It’s getting late.”

“How would you be getting home?” Daisuke asked placing another ornament on the tree in such a perfectionist sort of way.

“The train?”

“It would leave by the time you get there.” Daisuke hummed, nodding towards the clock.

Haru pouted, closing his eyes in deep thought before giving the other man a scowl. “You can drive me.”

Daisuke smirked, turning his back to the tree to look down at Haru. “I don’t know how to drive.” he lied.

Haru gaped and stood up from his seat, walking over to Daisuke with an irritated expression. “Oh please. That’s the most blatant lie I ever heard. You drove us here.”

“I have no memory of these events.” Daisuke continued to tease, leaving Haru by the tree to grab another ornament. “We have multiple guest rooms so take your pick.”

Haru ignored him, crossing his arms over his chest, the decorations on his sweater clicking up against each other. “Where has Suzue gone? Maybe she can drive me home. Better yet, I’ll just walk home myself.”

With a smile, Daisuke stood up close in front of Haru, effectively backing him up against the tree as he reached behind the inspector to hang an ornament. Haru gulped, flustered at the fact the situation he was in looked a lot like he was being trapped in some sort of festive kabedon.  “Stay the night, Haru.”

Haru let out a nervous whine at the unexpectedly soft request, not even processing completely that Daisuke had said his first name again.

“Haru.” Daisuke spoke again, stepping closer and placing his hand against Haru’s wrist.

“Okay,” Haru breathed, feeling the butterflies in his stomach as Daisuke watched him with such fondness and care, even as he started to lean in ever so slightly. “Dai–”

“Lord Daisuke, you have– oh!” Suzue suddenly appeared, causing Haru to shrink away from Daisuke once she saw just how close they were. Bowing in embarrassment, she continued to speak. “Sorry for the intrusion. Just thought you should know that some of your coworkers are at the front door. They brought some drinks and treats with them, saying they wanted to help you decorate.”

Daisuke looked over at Haru who was currently hiding his face behind the other side of the tree, before looking back at his cousin. “Let them in. I’ll clear some space in here for their food and drinks.”

Suzue smiled awkwardly, glancing over at Haru before quickly hurrying out of the room.

After a moment of silence, Daisuke removed some of the boxes from the coffee table, placing them near the bins they came from. “Will you get a ride back home from one of the others?”

Haru finally looked out from behind the tree, still flustered but stern enough to look Daisuke in the eye. “I already agreed to staying the night, didn’t I?”

Hearing the giggles and laughs coming from Shinnosuke, Mahoro, and Tepei nearing closer to them, Daisuke stood up a little straighter, struggling to mask the genuine smile from his face. “I’m glad to hear it.”

***

The tree was fully decorated faster than they had thought, along with a majority of the foyer (thanks to all of the helping hands). So, as an excuse to celebrate, Mahoro and Shinnosuke took the liberty of popping some bottles and singing along–loudly–to the christmas music Daisuke had put on earlier when it had just been him and Haru.

He wasn’t necessarily upset that the others were here. In fact he enjoyed the company as he was still getting used to having friends in general. Even seeing Suzue finally loosening up when talking to Mahoro was enough to make him happy. Even someone as inexperienced as himself could tell there was a tiny bit of a spark between the two women.

However, every now and then throughout the “party” he would find himself alone with Haru, who would immediately grow tense when there was no one else to match energies with. Daisuke was both pleased with his effect on the other man, but otherwise very impatient knowing that he was cut off from their previous moment together.

“I’m going to drive Mahoro home, seeing that she is rather drunk at the moment.” Suzue spoke, watching the said girl with amusement who was currently dancing her ass off against Shinnosuke to some pop cover of an old holiday song. “Tepei told me he would be driving Shinnosuke home as well since they all arrived in his car.”

Daisuke hummed in agreement, noticing Haru who was subtly filming his coworkers for supposed future use against them. For some reason, Haru hadn’t drank anything alcoholic the entire night, which was surprising for him.

“While we are gone, try to make Haru feel more at home.” Suzue smiled knowingly, putting on an innocent expression when Daisuke looked at her. “He’s been super jumpy all night. Least you could do is give him closure from what I unfortunately interrupted earlier.”

Daisuke’s eyes widened, feeling a sudden urge to break his usual character and shove her away much like he used to when she annoyed him as a child. “Just go. Lead them outside to their cars.”

Suzue giggled, bowing her head before getting Tepei’s help to herd the two drunks out of the mansion.

Haru watched them leave, snorting as he waved goodbye. “I’m glad I stayed sober for this tonight.”

Daisuke walked over to him, placing his hands in his pockets. “If you’d follow me, I can lead you to your room.”

Haru observed him carefully, a timid smile on his face. “Alright…” he spoke, getting up from his seat to follow Daisuke out of the parlor and towards a long hallway. It was slightly familiar based on the other times he has been in the mansion. Though he never got a proper tour. “I thought you said I could pick which guest room I wanted.”

“I took the liberty of choosing for you,” Daisuke spoke, ignoring Haru’s stubborn huff. “This room is only a few doors down from my own room.”

Haru slowed to a stop behind Daisuke, yet again growing more and more flustered.

“I don’t say this often enough to you but I wanted to say thank you.” Daisuke said quickly, as if he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to get it out. “For helping me through this. Even if it's something so simple and temporary as Christmas decorations.”

Haru swallowed thickly before stepping into the guest room. “The holiday season is always temporary but it means a lot to put effort in it.” he muttered, sitting down slowly onto the bed. Haru watched as Daisuke hesitantly walked in after him. “I want to thank you as well though.”

“Oh?”

Haru rubbed his hands against his pants anxiously. “I usually spend it alone. Oftentimes I decorate stuff all by myself. The only time I ever go out is to get drunk with the others. I know we have a few more days until it's actually christmas, but I truly feel more… present thanks to you.”

Daisuke watched him with surprise, before taking a step closer. “You’re free to spend christmas with me if you'd like,” he said a little too eagerly, “Christmas eve too.”

Haru smiled up at him, cocking his head to the side as Daisuke stood right at Haru’s feet. “I’d like that a lot,” He whispered, reaching up to take hold of Daisuke’s hand. “Daisuke.”

With one more look, as if asking permission, Daisuke was now leaning down, capturing Haru’s lips with his own.

This kiss was soft and brief, that is until Haru suddenly took hold of the back of Daisuke’s head and pulled him in for a longer kiss.

Stumbling slightly, Daisuke pushed Haru back so that he could lean over him on the bed, melting into each kiss with such disbelief and passion. Haru snorted into a small fit of giggles at Daisuke’s uncharacteristic clumsiness before wrapping his arms and legs around him to bring the millionaire closer.

Neither of them would have thought that Haru’s ugly sweater this morning would have led to such a thing as this.

[write-like-you-mean-it]

Small Frames Leave Big Shadows: Haikyuu Coffee Shop AU

“We’re closing in ten,” called Carrie from the back. The shop had been slower than any other day this week. Carrie, my boss, had sent all the high school students home early while keeping me and another closer on. Her announcement was directed at the staff but it’s intended audience was the customers still littered around the coffee shop. 

My eyes roll as I turn to make drinks for the few high school students staying later to finish a group project due tomorrow. “Eichi, you should know to do your work earlier. Coach Sugawara isn’t going to be lenient on you.” I pass the handmade drink to the taller high schooler. He’s been a regular since his 1st year in high school. 

“I know, Miss,” he says. “He lectures me as much as my dad.” He smiles the same beaming, white grin that I see almost every day. “We’ll be out soon. We’re almost done studying. Who knew English was so difficult.”

“Good luck on your test tomorrow.” I called to the teen but he was too busy walking back to his friends. He sent a small wave my way while fixing the obnoxiously swoopy hair. 

I go back to making the cold brews and lattes for the evening. Usually, I would be watching the clock for the official closing time; however, Carrie must’ve scared off the rest of the people as the building slowly became a ghost town. 

My hands work towards cleaning the used cups and putting away any remaining coffee beans. I felt a large hand on my head as Carrie nugged through my hair. “I’ll let Sato be the official closer for tonight. You’ve been putting in a lot of hours.”

“Thank you,” I sigh. Even during less-than-busy days, my feet ache with blisters from all the walking and my knees grew tired. I finish up with the small amount of washing to turn and see my boss in her tall frame. She has on a puffy winter coat since the January winter was hitting hard this year. “I’ll lock up so that he doesn’t have to.”

“Good girl,” says my boss while placing the keys in my hand. I was the opener tomorrow so the keys would be returned within a few hours. “I’m going to head out.”

“See you tomorrow,” I say while going into the dining area to pick up any spare cups left by trash cans or tables. Once I’d gathered the few cups and returned back behind the bar, the time had finally hit for close. 

Placing the mugs and cups into the sink, I washed each one delicately. “You really should lock the door before more people arrive,” said the other closer. He was a grumpy, middle-aged man whose love for coffee outweighed his dislike for people. 

I nod my head while grabbing my coat. Even though the door will only be open for a second, it still is freezing cold. I walk out into the brisk late night air. The sun set long ago and left the moon in its wake. My fingers fumble with the keys due to the bitter wind. 

“Wait!” called a younger voice. My gaze turns to see a person running towards the door. He was not dressed for the weather outside. He wore a volleyball jersey and some sweatpants. His bright orange hair lit up the bland outside. I couldn’t help but watch as he finally caught up the door. “Did I make it in time?”

“Well, I was about to lock the door,” I mumble. The man was panting as if he had sprinted the full way from the stadium. He hobbled over while holding his knees as a support. After I spoke, his eyes turned up to meet mine. It was the same eyes that would always come in later in the day. Normally, I can tell who it is by the neon hair; however, a lot of people have taken to the trend of dying theirs to match their favorite player. 

“Shit,” he shouted. “The game ran late. Astumu told me that I’d never make it on time. Please. I’ll pay you extra. I need this to do better in my games.” His fist was balled up in excitement as he stood tall, well, as tall as he could stand. 

“You’re Hinata right?” I say. “The decoy I’ve been hearing so much about.” His wide eyes grew at the thought of someone else knowing his name. 

“Yes!” he shouts. The addrenallen must’ve ran out due to the man shivering in the cold. My eyes flicker back and forth between the open door and the volleyball blocker. 

“Fine,” I say while putting my keys into the door. “I’ll let you this one time but you have to take it to go. I wouldn’t want you freezing all this way to return empty handed. 

As I walked back into the shop, I tried to not look at the glarning anger sent my way from my co-worker. “I promise I’ll be fast.” I don't know if the shorty’s comment was towards me or towards my counterpart. I took over the till as Sato went to mop the floors. 

“Can I have a cappuccino to go with some hazelnut please?” 

“Okay. What size?”

“The biggest size you have,” he says. All of his words were said with an excitement that left a full smile on my face even after a long day of work. 

He hands me his card. I finish the transaction before quickly making his drink. Sato and Carrie would not be happy with the service I was providing. I was lucky that my coworker had yet to count the money in the til. 

The smell of filter espresso permitted the room. “So, Hinata,” I say. “What made you run all this way for coffee? There is a shop a little closer to your arena.”

Hinata puts his hands together as if to warm the blue-tinted fingertips. “Oh. I have always come here since the games started. Bokuto says it's my ritual. The one time I went to the other coffee shop, we lost that game. All my teammates tell me that I have to come here or we’ll lose.”

My hands absentmindedly pour the espresso into the drink. “So we’re your good luck charm?” 

“Actually, I thought you were.” My eyes shoot up from the cup in front of me. He continued, “You’re always here when I am. Either you work too many hours or you’re good luck. I tried going this morning before practice but you weren’t here.” 

I placed the lid on his coffee before turning to see the orange-haired man had a slight blush on his face. “Well, here’s your drink.” I pass the hot liquid over until our hands touch. 

“Thanks.” His voice held a stutter that wasn’t there before. “I really appreciate you staying later to make this for me.”

“No problem,” I say. His small frame turns towards the door. I follow him with my eyes while wondering what to say to keep the conversation going. 

“Uhm, Hinata?” I call. My voice spoke before my mind processed the words. His hair flopped as he turned to look at me. “I have a few closing things that need to get done. You’ll get too cold if you continue to walk outside in this weather. Let me walk you at least to my bus stop.”

His smile sparkled more than the shimmering moon. “Thank you.” His grace was given at the cost of the smile. “I forgot to grab a jacket when I left.”

“I might have one that’s in the lost and found. Let me check.” I quickly walked to the back room before Hinata had a moment to reply. Even I could feel the warmth beneath my cheeks. 

I finish up the small tasks behind the scenes. I praised any higher being that Carrie let me go home earlier rather than staying the extra hour to close. Sato, although being grumpy, was an extremely hard worker. 

“Sato,” I say while picking up a large coat that won’t fit the tangerine’s frame. “I’m going to head out. See you in a few days.”

The man gruffed out a goodbye as we walked out the door. “So, why did you want to walk me to your stop?” he asks. His form seemed much smaller in the large coat. Tufts of hair were messed up from the collar. 

“Oh.” It was my turn to stutter. “I wanted to make sure you weren’t running with the drink.” Lie. “You could spill it.” Another lie. “I like taking care of my customers.” While that wasn’t a lie, it wasn’t the reason I followed him. 

My mention of his drink made the man take a sip. “I should be the one walking you. After all, I am the man.” He puffed out his chest which only looked silly in the already puffed out leather. 

A chuckle passed my lips. “What’s so funny?” he continues.

“It’s just-” I pause to take a breath between my laughter. “-I’m not sure. It may be that the coat’s too big for you. Sorry. It was the only thing that was left.”

He looks down to see that the jacket was almost past his knees in length. He shrugs his shoulders before taking another sip of coffee. “It’s alright. I’ve always had to live in massive shadows. What’s one helpful coat more.”

Hinata’s face turned to look at me once again. The smile from before was replaced by a serious look. “Hey this might be too forward but I don’t have a game tomorrow night. Would you like to go to dinner or something. I have to replace your kindness somehow.”

My footsteps were caught on the uneven gravel. I stumbled but didn’t fall. The blocker’s movements were instinctive to catch me even though it was a stumble. “Sorry, sorry,” I apologize quickly. “You caught me off guard.”

I look back to see his worried face scrunched into a question. “Is that a no?”

“Oh, no, no. I would love to go to dinner with you.” Hinata gave a sigh of relief. “Here. Put your number in my phone and I’ll text you later.”

I reached into my pocket to find my simple phone and give it to the man. He inputs his number before handing it back. We continue our walk for a few more steps before we end up at the bus stop. 

“Thank you for walking me,” he says. “I look forward to that text later. My teams won’t believe that I get to go on a date tomorrow. Especially with you.” 

“Good night Hinata,” I say while the 9:30 bus pulls up to the stop. The orange haired man waves goodbye to me with his empty hand. 

As I take a seat on the bus, I find Hinata’s number and send a quick text to him; hopeful that he may reply soon.