#everything in our lives depends on me and I’m being crushed under all this pressure and I just don’t know what to do anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

buckys-little-hoe · 4 years ago

Text

The Bet | Jake Peralta x Reader

Pairing: Jake Peralta x Reader

Summary: You and Jake make a bet. Who can last longer without Sex.

Warnings: Implied Smut, my non existent knowledge of police work, sexyness lmao, mentions of drugs and murder

A/N: There is not much to say. I just wanted to try writing about someone else. The next thing that i have planned is something for our fav fast guy Pietro (who owns my heart btw)

---

It all started about a year ago. You were new to the station and immediately attracted everyone's attention. Not only were you beautiful, no, you were a real badass too. You solve one case after the other without any complications. And while you sometimes had to be physical, you looked hot too. Amy had asked several times if you could teach her how to look good while you had blood on your uniform, but you just shrugged your shoulders. In all honesty, you just did it without even thinking about it. Holt was incredibly proud to have hired someone so talented. You lived for your work, but your private life suffered as a result.

You spent your nights researching and in the morning you just came out of bed. And so after about a week you were at your desk. Rosa came in with her blank expression and sat across from you. You gave her a smile, which she didn't return, but she gave you coffee. You accepted it gratefully and immediately felt better. "Hey, Y/N! Could you bring me the new file? It's on Peralta's desk.” Terry asked you as you sat closer and you nodded. With your coffee cup in hand, you got up and went to his desk. What a mess. Sighing, you rummaged around with one hand. Was that a crushed granola bar? Disgusted, you took your hand out of the mess and took a sip. At about the same time, Jake strutted in and was immediately involved in a conversation with Charles. So he ran backwards towards his desk. You didn't even notice your surrounding anymore, you were too focused on finding the files without your hand touching anything rotten. And so Jake ran against you. Startled, you tightened your grip on the cup, which caused the lid to fly up from the pressure and some coffee spilled onto your blouse. You whimpered softly because the shit was really hot. "Fuck ..." Carefully you lifted the blouse a little so that it doesn't stick to your skin. Jake immediately walked away from you and spoke to you. "Shit, I'm so sorry! Are you okay, Y/L/N?” He asked with a guilty conscience and you turned around. With gritted teeth you nodded and walked slowly towards the washroom. "If you want, I'll help you take it off!" He called after you and you had to pull yourself together not to beat him up. This was his first attempt at flirting, and it wasn't his last. About a month later, you were sitting across from Rosa again, but your eyes were on Holt. He was talking to Jake again, but you couldn't see what kind of conversation. Was it praise? Or maybe scolding? You were bored with no case to resolve. Besides, you were kind on a sex withdrawal. After all, you were new to this neighborhood and didn't really know anyone. You hadn't even gotten to masturbation in the past few weeks. Annoyed, you let your head drop on your crossed arms. It could be that the withdrawal made you a little pissed. "What's going on?" Rosa asked and Amy perked up her ears. And since Charles didn't really have anything to do either and was a self-proclaimed consolation giver, he came straight to it. A kind of meeting came into being. "I'm just not in a good mood," you said and looked up. "Why?" Amy asked immediately. Even Gina was now at your table. "Is it because we don't have any cases right now?" Charles asked, but you denied it. A bit of free time was actually good, but you were in the wrong place to satisfy yourself. "Stress with the partner?", Amy guessed. "I don't have anyone.", You grumbled. "Aha!" Gina shouted. "You haven't had sex in a long time!" With red cheeks you buried your head in your arms again. Satisfied, she nodded as she hit the nail right on the head. Terry came along now. "I know some nice men," he said and you rolled your eyes. Great, now everyone knew. "I know some great girls too," Rosa suggested. “That's enough, guys. If I want then I'll surely find someone. ", You grumbled and looked up again. By now everyone had a sympathetic smile on their faces. You groaned annoyed. Gina pushed Charles aside and showed you a couple of Instagram accounts with some guys. Somehow you wanted meaningless sex, but not with someone strange. Jake stepped out of the office again and noticed everyone standing at your table. "What's going on here?" He asked aloud and walked to your desk. "We're looking for someone to lay Y/N.", Gina answered without looking up. Embarrassed you avoided his gaze. Did everyone finally know? "I'll volunteer.", He grinned and everyone started laughing, including you. "Why are you laughing?" Confused, he looked at his colleagues. Charles put a hand on his shoulder. "Not bad for Jake, but Y/N is way out of your league.", He replied with pity in his voice. Jake looked at him indignantly. “Thanks, Boyle! It doesn't matter now. Y/N, take your bag or whatever, we have a little drug case in a gelateria.”Peralta said, avoiding Boyle's hurt expression. A gelateria and he didn't take his best friend with him? Excitedly, you grabbed your service weapon and your jacket. “I’m ready!"

"I think the owner is the dealer," you said quietly to yourself. Jake nodded in agreement. "Now we just have to catch him red-handed," he added. He turned to you and put both of his hands on your shoulders. You looked at him with a raised brow. "Flirt with him," he ordered and shook you. "What! Why? ”You hissed softly and glanced over at the guy. "You distract him and I'll go back through the door," he explained and you sighed. "Okay." So you stepped inside slowly, purposefully towards the counter and looked at the many different types of ice cream. "Hi!", You smiled shyly, and he took the bite immediately. "Hello beautiful woman, what can I do for you?" He asked charmingly with his heavy Italian accent. Your heart went soft with all the ice cream. "What can you recommend?" "It depends on what you like," grinned the man. "I like it extraordinary, maybe something Mediterranean.", You said and suppressed your gag reflex. "I should have- Hey!", He interrupted himself and looked past you. Inwardly, you just gave yourself a facepalm. He couldn’t be serious. "What are you doing back there, huh?" Slowly you turned around and saw Peralta with a mustache stuck on. You sighed softly to yourself and just mimicked your fate. "Well, searching the drugs.", He replied as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You took your badge in your hand ready to turn around when the swanky Italian slapped it out of your hand, jumped over the counter and hit you on the floor. With a thud, you landed on the floor. Jake was about to walk towards you, but you waved in the direction of the door. He bit his lip and hesitantly ran after him. Slowly you got up and cracked your fingers. Why did he have to bite his lip so badly? Now you ran after them too, it didn't take long for the Italian to land in a dead end. Jake seemed to have everything under control, so you stood to one side to take a deep breath. But when he handcuffed him, you couldn't prevent your dirty thoughts. How would the handcuffs feel on your hands? You rubbed your thighs together to release some friction. You realized one thing. Jake was the one who had to fuck you. You just had to make him do it.

A few days later, you were leaning your arms on Gina's desk, your bum up. In the reflection you could see his eyes on it while he was talking to Amy. Even your blouse had one button open today. At least time was running and you were getting more and more impatient. Gina told you something about a dance group and normally you'd like to listen, but this time it was more difficult. When you turned around he was no longer there. Instead, Amy gave you a friendly wave. You returned her gestures with a smile. Suddenly you smelled his perfume in your nose. He was right next to you. Your breathing became a little more irregular, as did your heartbeats. Oh God. His sleeves were rolled up and he was smiling slyly. “We're going to Shaw’s after work today. Would you like to come with us?” He wanted to know and you didn't miss how his eyes briefly wandered to your breasts. “Oh yes, Y/N! You absolutely have to go.", Gina agreed, so you nodded."I'll be happy to come, Peralta. "

That evening, you sat in a corner with your drink in hand. If he stopped giving you any more signs, you would look for someone else, which you would find a shame. Time passed and slowly the troop broke up. Until there was only Jake left, who sat down next to you with a new drink. "Here." Smiling, he pushed the glass towards you. You took the straw slowly in your mouth and didn't break eye contact. If he didn't get that hint now, you'd probably freak out. Instead, the detective put his hand dangerously close to your clothed core. You gasped loudly. "Could it be that you want me to fuck you?" He asks quietly and your heart almost popped out of your chest. You opened your mouth, but not a word came out. So you just nodded. “Unfortunately that's not enough, babygirl. Use words. ”Jake said. Slowly he tilted your head to one side and kissed the back of your neck. "Please, fuck me," you breathed. He removed his head and grinned. "I will, but just because you asked so nicely." Shortly afterwards you landed in his apartment. And at three in the morning you woke up and left like nothing happened. And it went on and on. Some days he would hold you against the shelves in the evidence room. On others it was in his car. And you liked the dominance he exuded. You liked how he took what he wanted from you, while still not forgetting your satisfaction. But after the sex you were always the first to go.

After a year it was still just sex and nothing more. So you were all the more surprised when he suddenly showed up on a date. You apologized to the nice man and pulled Jake on his ear out. He followed you gasping. When you finally stood in the parking lot, you crossed your arms. “What's this crap, Peralta?” You wanted to know, annoyed. "I ... I just wanted to make sure the guy was decent," he lied, which you could clearly see. “Bullshit. You are jealous. ", You replied." No, I am not. " "Yes you are." "No." "Yes." "No." "Yes." “Okay! Our sex is fantastic okay? But what am I talking about here anyway? You wouldn't even go a day without it.” The cop defended himself. "Oh yes? I think you're confused, darling. You can't last a day without it.” You replied angrily. “Then let's bet. Whoever gives up first loses,” he suggested. “What do I get if I win?” You asked suspiciously. Betting with Jake always goes wrong and ends in chaos, you've been aware of that since Halloween. "I'll give you the murder case." "Okay, and you?" "I want one waking up." Confused you pulled your eyebrows together. "What do you mean?", You said. "I want you to wake up with me once. No escaping," he explained with ruddy cheeks. You examined him briefly and finally nodded. "Deal."

It started very easily. Here and there he brushed your hips, of course quite unobtrusively. Sometimes your file fell down, so you had to bend down very low. But he didn't jump on it. So you had to get more extreme. Bananas were eaten and he was flirting with Amy. And somehow your heart got heavier. So you had to act differently. Shortly before the end of the day you accidentally spilled your water on your white blouse. While your red lace bra became visible, you apologized with red cheeks and promised to come back. You didn't miss Jake's eyes, but you had other plans. From your closet you pulled a top with a deep neckline and tight jeans that made your bum stick out. You pulled the hair elastic out of your hair and freed your voluminous mane. You even forced yourself into high shoes and for once you leave your underwear off. "Show Time.", You mumbled and drove to the bar. And as soon as you stepped in, everyone's eyes were on you. Rosa whistled loudly and grinned honestly. Flattered you gave her a hug. "I thought I could dress up a bit." You explained your outfit to her. "Good girl," she winked. She’s the only one who knew about you and Jake since she caught you in the evidence room. With a swing of your hips that could only drive someone crazy, you strutted towards the bar. The bartender leaned down to you. "What will it be, my lady?" He grinned charmingly and you laughed out loud. still focused on getting what you wanted. “A shot would be a start,” you answered. He pushed one over to you pretty quickly. "It’s on the house.", He smiled. You nodded as a thank you and drank it. The warmth spread through your body and you let your shoulders circle. And so you flirted with the bartender for an estimated two minutes, when a well-known body was already pressing against yours. And with it his erection too. Your grin grew bigger. "What do you think you're doing?" He whispered in your ear. Goosebumps graced your body. He let his hand slide gently under your top. "You don't even wear a bra," Jake said, breathing irregularly. Inconspicuously, you rubbed your bum against his reaction. "That's enough," he whispered through clenched teeth. And so he pulled your wrist towards his apartment. And for the first time you didn't care what your colleagues thought about you.

Tired you opened your eyes and looked directly at the alarm clock next to you. Three o'clock at night. But this time you didn't get up. Instead, you turned around, put your arms around his body, and closed your eyes again. And Jake's smile grew bigger.

#jake peralta #jake peralta x reader #jake peralta x y/n #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #fluffy #jake peralta fluffy #jake peralta x you

1K notes · View notes

self-proclaimed-chaotic-good · 4 years ago

Text

Speak your Heart | Cassian Andor x Reader (Oneshot)

Words: 2395

A/N: Hey, look, it's another "not exactly unrequited love, they're just idiots" fic starring our favorite grumpy captain.

May the fourth be with you!

Summary: You may or may not have a crush on your longtime friend, Cassian, but he thinks that you may or may not have a crush on his friend Bodhi. It's up to your friends to quickly fix that.

When you laugh so hard, you would laugh with your whole body, clutching at your stomach or rubbing your cheeks when they grew sore. Your laugh was the most amazing sound Cassian had ever heard. It wasn’t a soft melodious sound, but it was a genuine, wholehearted laugh that would make anyone smile and join in. But, right now, he hated it. If it was caused by Jyn, he would have been fine. He knew you enjoyed her sarcastic humor and banter. No, it was caused by his other best friend. The quiet pilot that was always full of surprises.

You finally regained your breath and slapped the pilot’s shoulder. “Bodhi, Bodhi, tell them about the time you had to lead a small team of new recruits,” you said.

Bodhi rolled his eyes. “Oh, that one. So, there was this new guy who was acting all big, bragging about his knowledge of ships and how he fought numerous stormtroopers on his own. Long story short, he almost caught one of the Skippers on fire from his failed attempt of hot-hiring it and when the troopers came, he screamed and flung his blaster across the docks.”

“We had to go and save him,” you added. “Bodhi made it so we were able to get the cargo and save the guy all in one piece. He can think of plans so quickly under pressure. I don’t know how he does it.”

Bodhi ducked his head and laughed. “Well, I had an idea of how stormtroopers think. It wasn’t too difficult. The way they acted, it seemed like they were also new recruits, so it wasn’t too hard to take care of them.”

“Better watch out, (Y/n). If Bodhi ends up being full himself with all those compliments you’re stuffing him, then Cassian will have another handful to deal with,” Jyn said.

“Yeah, the other being you, of course,” Bodhi shot back. “I don’t think I’ll ever be like that, though.”

Jyn smirked. “But, can you even imagine the two of us ganging up on Cassian like that?”

He nodded with a wide smile. “He’d go insane. Probably abandon us on the nearest moon.”

“Guys,” you said, shaking your head, “that would mean I’d never hear the end of it about you two.”

Jyn wrapped her arm around your shoulder. “That’s right. Cassian tells you everything, doesn’t he?” She exchanged a knowing look with Bodhi.

“Not everything,” you muttered, crossing your arms as you thought about the numerous times where Cassian would avoid you for no reason when he had been telling you almost everything about the missions he had in the past and the ones he had recently come back from. You weren’t sure when your friendship with him had reached the point where the two of you would exchange stories late at night before finally attempting sleep, but it felt effortless.

You sighed, leaning your back against Bodhi as he carried off his conversation with Jyn and the others. There were times where you’d slip deep in thought and it occurred often enough that your friends learned to let you be unless they knew you were in a bad mood prior to it. Your eyes drifted away from the group, looking around the canteen nonchalantly.

All those faces, new and seasoned. The war never cared which ones they were, it just takes. Many would have sworn off on sentimental attachments and at one point, you did, too. That is, until you met Cassian and Kaytwo. You rarely saw them apart and it wasn’t until you were assigned to assist them as their technician did you have any close contact with either of them. Many spoke about the stoic spy who always got the job done, no matter the cost.

Cassian Andor. A man who had been in the fight since he was a child. You thought that a man like him wouldn’t want to get close to anyone unless they were solely a means to an end. So, when you saw Cassian panic after K-2SO got shot and damaged his arm and wiring, you were shocked to say the least. You had to help him drag the droid back to the U-Wing and try to stabilize him with the resources you had on hand while Cassian powered up the ship and flew away from danger. He had let out a sigh of relief when you told him that Kaytwo would be fine and repairable once the three of you reach base. Since then, you realized that living beings always end up getting attached to something or someone no matter how hard they tried.

Your eyes ended up landing on the very captain that occupied your thoughts more than half the time. Without realizing it, a smile slowly spread across your face. You were definitely attached to someone, alright.

Bodhi nudged your back and smiled. “Go talk to him.”

You turned your head to Bodhi and shook it. “I don’t know. Last time I did, he stormed off. I don’t know why, though. Maybe it was something I said, but I’m not sure what would have caused him to do that.”

Cassian froze as you looked at him with a smile. His heart began to beat fast as he thought of how to respond. But when he decided to settle for a smile, you turned your head away and towards Bodhi whose face was inches from yours.

“You should go talk to them, you know,” Kaytwo said. “There’s a ninety-five percent chance that you are misinterpreting (Y/n)’s and Bodhi’s relationship.”

“And what is that five percent?”

“That misinterpretation percentage used to be much higher, but given how long you want to prolong your lovesick yearning, that percentage would only decrease with time.”

Cassian grunted at this, walking away from the droid and out of the canteen. “And what are the odds of this biting us in the ass in the future?”

“Depending on what you choose.”

“I don’t have time for this. There’s a meeting in half an hour. Are you going or not?”

“Of course I am, Cassian. Your mind will be too preoccupied to pay any attention. But, remember what I said-”

“Let's start going.”

You stood up just as Cassian and Kaytwo began to walk out of the canteen. There was a sour expression on Cassian’s face as he spoke to Kaytwo, making you sink back down in your seat. “He’s busy,” you muttered.

Bodhi glanced over his shoulder then shook his head. “But that’s just how Cassian looks most of the time.”

“I don’t want to bother him.” You swung your legs around so you were facing everyone again.

“I don’t think he’d ever mind if it was you.”

“Bodhi’s right, (Y/n). Maybe you can try when his meeting’s done,” Jyn said.

You sighed. “Alright.”

The Rogue One crew was being sent off to another mission off planet for who knows how long. It was risky as it was within enemy lines near a major Imperial facility. You knew that they were fully capable individuals and together they were unstoppable, but you couldn’t help but worry whenever your friends left the tarmac of the base.

Maybe you should tell him before he leaves. Everyone’s been telling you to make the first move, since Cassian wasn’t budging any time soon. You were scared of the rejection, of him putting up and fortifying the walls around himself, and you would be losing a really good friend.

You had waited for Cassian outside of the meeting room. It took longer than you expected, but as soon as it ended, you jumped up from the crates and rushed over. Cassian halted as soon as he saw you. As you stepped towards him, he looked up at Kaytwo, then brushed past you. Your eyes widened as you watched him leave.

“I would tell you what was wrong, but Cassian told me not to,” Kaytwo said, awkwardly patting your head before strolling over to where Cassian had gone.

You collapsed on Jyn’s cot as soon as you entered her quarters, wondering why he was suddenly acting this way towards you. Jyn continued to talk about the time she was able to meet Princess Leia and how they had to rescue themselves when they were separated by the crew. You hummed along to show that you were listening, absentmindedly helping her pack as she threw clothes and gear onto the cot.

A heavy piece of cloth was thrown at your face, your surroundings falling into darkness. You pulled the jacket off and saw Jyn standing in front of you with hands on her hips. She raised an eyebrow, snatching the jacket from you and shoving it into her pack.

“We’re leaving tonight, but Cassian typically gets to the U-Wing an hour before us,” Jyn hinted.

“So… should I go now or…”

She sighed in frustration. “Run!”

“Okay, okay!” you shouted as she chased you out of her quarters with a blaster.

You weaved past tired pilots and mechanics as they retired for the night, only a few bothered to spare you a glance before yawning and continuing on to their respective quarters. There was a lamp shining next to the U-Wing where Cassian was loading the ship and checking to see if he had everything for the mission. Kaytwo took care of the heavy load and went to check on the ship’s condition.

“Cassian!” you called out.

His head shot up, a series of emotions flashing across his face when he realized that it was you. He was always happy to see you, but he wasn’t sure that you’d be friendly with him still after he had been giving you the cold shoulder lately. He set down his datapad and crossed his arms as you skidded to a stop right in front of him.

“You should be asleep. I heard that they had given you a pile of projects to work on this week,” he said.

His eyes widened as you gripped his shoulders and pulled him away from the U-Wing. Kaytwo popped his head out of the ship and shook it before going back to his tasks. You found an area behind stacks of crates where the two of you could be alone. You took a moment to catch your breath before opening your mouth for the rushed speech you had made in your head on your way to reach him.

“I’ll look after Bodhi if that’s what you’re worried about,” he said.

“What? No! I’m not worried about him. Well, I am. I’m always worried about you guys. Why would you say that all of a sudden?”

His eyes looked everywhere but you, your hands slipping from his shoulders as he stepped back. “If that’s not what you ran here for, then hurry it up. We’ve got a mission to go to soon.”

So all that gossiping that Chirrut and Baze had been doing with the others were true. Cassian was jealous. Apparently, he thought that you had feelings for Bodhi instead. “You know, I always thought that you were one of the smartest people I know. I guess I was wrong.”

He narrowed his eyes. “What-”

“Captain Cassian Andor, the leader of Rogue One, the very team that helped steal the Death Star blueprints, the spy who could get intel out of anyone, yet he can’t tell whether his friend is entirely in love with him.”

It took an extremely long and grueling long minute for that information to process, but he wasn’t sure if he was processing it correctly. He frowned as he looked at you. “Do you mean…”

You sighed, placing your hands on his shoulders again. “I. Am. In. Love. With. You. You. Idiot,” you said slowly, shaking him with each word. “Just thought I should let you know before you leave. You don’t have to respond, but I wasn’t sure when I’d be able to tell you.”

“(Y/n), I…”

“Just kiss them, Cassian!” Kaytwo shouted.

Cassian turned to scowl at his droid, but you pulled him towards you and smashed your lips on his. He stumbled back in shock, his back hitting the crates. You pulled away in concern, checking to see if he was alright. He glanced at the screen of his datapad, then turned back to you.

“We have half an hour left,” he said before pulling you in for another kiss.

The second kiss took your breath away as he pressed himself against you. His heart pounded in his chest, a giddy feeling spreading throughout his body as you eagerly returned the kiss. He wasn’t sure when he fell, but it was gradual and natural and it had caused a conflict in him when he thought that you were in love with Bodhi instead. Bodhi was his friend as well, and if the two of you made each other happy, there wasn’t much he could do but let it happen. Yet, here you were in his arms, reciprocating his feelings.

The two of you finally pulled away for air. Cassian rested his forehead against yours and sighed in content. “I love you, too.”

“Finally!” you heard Jyn’s voice shout.

You and Cassian walked away from your secluded crate corner and saw that the crew had already gathered. They all grinned widely before loading their things onto the ship.

“I… I need to go,” Cassian said softly.

You nodded. “I know. Better come back to me in one piece, captain.”

“Of course I will. Wait for me?”

“Of course.”

He was glad that you had made the first move. If not, then he would have ran off from one mission to another without telling you how he felt. Then, who knows where the two of you would be. He would have probably lost you.

As he entered the U-Wing, all of his friends turned to him with a smile. Bodhi stepped forward and patted his shoulder. “It was about time,” he said.

“Yeah, we were going to lock the two of you in a dark room together for two hours if you guys didn’t make a move,” Jyn said.

Baze snorted. “I think sending them out on a mission together would have worked as well.”

“The Force would have found a way,” Chirrut piped up.

He was definitely glad that you made the first move.

#cassian andor #cassian andor x reader #rogue one #rogue one imagine #star wars #star wars imagine #may the fourth be with you #oneshot #lol why do I always write Cassian like this

112 notes · View notes

sepublic · 5 years ago

Text

Wing it like Witches!

Let me tell you- I was WORRIED this episode would make me sad and angsty, but instead it just made me happy and all warm inside! I know that sounds super-corny but like…

I LOVED this episode! I was worried from the promo pic that Boscha’s bullying would really get to Luz, Gus, and Willow, but… It didn’t! I mean, it still got to WILLOW hence the entire episode, but otherwise Luz and Gus were less “Wow I’m really being reminded of my insecurities from bullying” and more “I can’t believe she ACTUALLY did that. She wasted her entire school day doing that. This girl is NUTS, is she okay back home?”

(The more I see of Boscha, the more I have to wonder if she IS okay back home… Obviously not crippled with self-loathing to the extent that Amity is, but never mind.)

What’s really surprise to see though; LILITH IS A RED-HEAD!?!? I remember seeing that first pic of young Eda with two other classmates, one of whom was obscured and the other had glasses; And I thought, is THAT girl Lilith, could it be? Is the girl with the obscured face the one who stole Lilith’s lunch money, potentially that favorite character from Season 2 that Dana alluded to? My mind is racing, but either way young Eda and Lilith are utterly adorable! I do have to wonder if what Lilith had to say about Eda’s bad memory was just a jab, or something more… Given that the show has alluded to Eda possibly having amnesia with MORE than just her curse…!

Speaking of which; LILITH AND EDA GETTING ALONG! Well, sort of- I mean they’re technically adversarial by the end of this episode, but only technically. Lilith knows where the Owl House is, finally; And we get to see in this episode just how capable Hooty really IS as a security system, surprisingly enough! He even manages to capture LILITH; Though to be fair, she may not have been super-invested in the mission given this was her sister we’re talking about, but still! Coupled with Hooty mercilessly tearing apart those toys in Adventures in the Elements, and I have to wonder if he’s ever, like… KILLED people before, y’know?

…Maybe I don’t want that answer. Regardless, I love Luz’s little cheeky interference with Eda’s game, but Eda still manages to win by her last trick; Just pure, genuine skill and talent! That was a twist, I was expecting Eda to have another cheat or to be caught by Lilith, but as I said before… Eda isn’t humble, and for a GOOD reason! Lilith ain’t no slouch either, and I love that King willingly donned a cheerleader outfit just to offer support! I mean, maybe Eda MADE him, but otherwise he didn’t seem to have much of an issue so long as it was just at home!

And… I LOVE the little small moments between Eda and Lilith, where… Lilith KNOWS she has to turn her sister in, she’s getting desperate, but it’s also low-key breaking her heart to do this! And when she loses the match and just… FALLS on her knees in despair, questioning herself, and Eda picking her up? Giving her that signature ring, just to make Lilith look better? I… I LOVE these sisters, why can’t they make up?! Lilith isn’t even aiming to imprison Eda, she just wants her to join the Emperor’s Coven and continue doing stuff alongside her, like old times!

And Eda… Eda still needs her autonomy, but she knows that Lilith isn’t some cruel person. She knows that Lilith loves her sister and wants the best, that she’s in a terrible position; Eda knows how stifling the Coven System is, and while being beneath Belos provides a lot of power… It also provides a lot of PRESSURE as well! Sure, Lilith chose this… But Eda still believes that Lilith is deserving of kindness and compassion!

(Let me tell you, considering I don’t think we’ve seen any Eda clips past this episode, I was LEGIT afraid she’d get captured by the end… thank goodness!)

What’s also fascinating to note is that Emperor Belos was in charge since fiftyyears ago; Given the speculation that Eda isn’t as old as she looks, this indicates Belos is PRETTY old himself, by a large margin; Especially when one considers how long-lived Bump is! It’s a small moment telling us how he established the Coven Heads five decades ago, but I really appreciated it; And in general, this episode seems to be our final, light-hearted breather before we get into the REALLY heavy stuff… Keep in mind, our last two episodes were originally planned to air side-by-side, like a two-part season finale! On a lesser note, we see the Heximal System teacher giving a History lesson, confirming what I suspected earlier; That some subjects include students from all tracks, simply because the subject-matter applies across any and all covens, and History is one of them! Love the small world-building here!

Given how we don’t see anything else of Willow and Gus past that scene in Belos’ treasury, I have to wonder… What if those two get captured, and only Luz can escape? Amidst King –and possibly Eda- being taken as well, Luz might be looking at a one-man operation here! Which just makes her all the more impressive… Like looking at her now, even if she DOES lose against Lilith; She’d still have been going toe-to-toe with the Head of the Emperor’s Coven, even if only briefly! Luz has come a far way away from where she started as just a powerless human, and has amassed FOUR glyphs; Light, Ice, Plant, and Fire!

And BOY HOWDY is she good at them! Seriously, I bet she could’ve easily beaten Boscha in a Witch’s Duel if she wanted; Though it’s worth noting that according to Willow, Grudgby is apparently the only language she speaks… Given that shot of her room at the beginning, I have to wonder if that’s where her MAIN self-worth lies in! In the beginning Boscha acknowledges to herself that she’s hated, ‘so long as she is feared’; And her monologue low-key gives me, “Doesn’t know how to make friends so copes by putting herself above everybody else and overinflating her own self-importance under the impression that people are just secretly jealous!” vibes. (In some ways she’s like Grace from Infinity Train…)

That aside, I just get a sensation of pride from seeing how adept and adaptable Luz is, and the way she learned Fire from Boscha of all people –Which I called!- is both hilarious but goes to show what kind of a learner she is… I feel like Eda, like we’ve watched our kid grow and get stronger and I can’t WAIT to see what she pulls off next! Amidst her learning Magic and then defying the Coven System… you go Luz, YOU GO!

And, it seems I’m not the only person who shares this sentiment! Even after Boscha’s bullying, we don’t see anybody beyond her gang make fun of Luz and co.! When Willow gets trashed poured on her, some students are watching, but… They seem kind of disturbed by it all? They’re not outright vouching on her behalf like Luz, possibly because Boscha is watching; But still! It is SO cathartic to see Willow being beloved by the entire school like that, even if she’s keeping her friend-circle to a select few; People LIKE her, and it’s what she deserves! Like Luz, I’m SO proud…!

I’m still disappointed we didn’t get the names of Boscha’s other friends, but I really like their inclusion here! I liked how they all seemed rather uncomfortable with seeing Luz forfeit, only to be made Boscha’s target practice; And how Luz is so bright, bubbly, and infectiously-cheerful, spreading her good will to others! Like, this girl is TOO kind, and so loving… She has no bounds and I love how those other girls are even affected by Luz, genuinely enjoying her and wanting to be friends, alongside having Willow as a teammate! I have to wonder if they’ll ditch Boscha after this… Or at the very least, try to talk her down as friends of Boscha that she actually cares about and vice-versa (compared to Amity, who has always been cold towards Boscha, hence why her talking wouldn’t have made a difference)!

Speaking of Amity… C’mon, girl. Your CRUSH is showing, the way you’re getting flustered, imagining seeing Luz in a ‘cute’ uniform and everything… Gus being utterly confused, but you can tell that the gears in Willow’s head are turning and honestly; She’s all for it, likely! I think this is the first time Amity has had an ACTUAL crush on someone she can talk to, instead of some distant figure or a fictional character! It’s so heartwarming seeing her navigate it, getting to actually deal with feelings like a kid is supposed to be allowed to do! And Luz being clueless… That, or she thinks Amity is into WILLOW, which makes a lot of sense too!

(After all, Luz knows that her parents wouldn’t approve of her being Amity’s girlfriend… But Luz, you have NO idea how much she cares, she literally loves you more than she fears them! And Amity, knowing that her parents wouldn’t approve and struggling with this no doubt, but her love for Luz is really shining through over all of that!)

To put it simply; Luz is FRIEND-shaped, she’s lovable, there’s no escaping liking her! Maybe Boscha will always be a bully, and I know one might call it ‘cliché’… But honestly I’d love to see Boscha eventually warm up to Luz and HER infectious positivity as well! Also, I saw that twist with the Rusty Smidge coming from a mile away, and I love how Luz low-key gets into a genuine rant over it! Although the loss doesn’t matter, as Luz’s team was clearly more adept and Boscha’s friends don’t seem interested in forcing Luz and her friends to do all of that other stuff…

Anyhow, I love seeing Amity stand up for her friends, and when she says that her social life has improved because she’s with Luz, in spite of Boscha’s claims… I really CAN see her standing up to her parents, sometime later! I speculated a while back that depending on how her and Luz’s relationship in Enchanting Grom Fright goes, it’d really impact what Amity does later down the line, and I was right! But it IS worth noting that Amity may not yet know that Luz has to leave… King and Eda know, and the former mentioned this in front of Willow and Gus! It’s possible that Luz has laid out her plans to return every summer (and during winter break and whatnot), which would definitely lessen Amity’s angst by an infinite amount! And seeing as how she has instantaneous access to the Demon Realm, who’s to say she can’t pop in every day, after school! Sure she might not be actively living in the Owl House anymore, but otherwise…!

On another note with Amity, I love her and Luz getting to geek out over The Good Witch Azura, and it’s funny to see the show confirm what I wondered about earlier; About Amity secretly making Azura references in public, under the knowledge that nobody would recognize them and realize she’s a nerd… But LUZ does now, and the two can bond! Also, Amity getting to have fun with Luz and co. at the end, being CARRIED by Luz, fully accepted into the home… I know you also have the library as a safe space Amity, but you’ve also got the Owl House as well! And it seems Hooty bears no grudges, either!

Also, someone speculated recently that Amity has her goth-sense from Lilith… and given the implication that Lilith dyed her hair, I can REALLY SEE IT! I’m disappointed we didn’t get any interactions between the two… But the way it was set up, I feel like if Eda and Lilith were there they’d be too busy cheering on their kids respectively! Or not, we’ve seen them prioritize their feud in Covention… But back then Luz and Amity weren’t on the same team!

Back to Amity, it’s interesting that she used to be on the Grudgby team, and was good at it, even being CAPTAIN when Boscha wasn’t; But then explicitly quit when she accidentally hurt some of her ‘friends’ merely once. Even if she never cared for them in the past, even if this was before she met Luz and learned to be kind and open again… She was ALWAYS someone who was self-conscious of her actions! And sure, the issue is that Amity is a LITTLE too self-conscious, constantly berating herself, holding herself accountable for every mistake… But regardless, it says a lot how guilty she feels to have hurt her teammates, even if it was an accident and a one-time incident that resulted in victory!

I’ll probably do ANOTHER post about it later, but it says a lot; How Amity feels like she should step up as a Blight, and she DOES outshine the others… But because of that inherent guilt but also compassion, she actually quits Grudgby out of guilt! Which leads me to the idea that even if she tolerated Boscha and co., she wouldn’t have wanted to hurt them; Again, because she’s critical of herself, but also because Amity isn’t cruel and it may have reminded her of how she treated Willow! I have to respect and fear for Amity on quitting Grudgby after that…

Again, I think she has the issue of being too overtly-critical of herself, and that it’s honestly THE issue that defines her problems; But on the other hand, I feel like Amity’s parents would’ve been displeased to see their star child quit the team, just for hurting some ‘lesser’ witches? I’m scared for what may have happened to Amity, but it also says a lot that she made a potentially defiant move simply because she didn’t want to hurt yet another friend…

(That, or her parents wanted Amity to focus on Abominations and other studies, and coupled with Amity’s guilt, it was the perfect opportunity to get her off the team. Which would be sad, but not surprising.)

Anyhow, I just think it’s interesting that Boscha and co. don’t ever seem to have any resentment towards Amity until recently. It’s possible Boscha DID dislike Amity up until she stepped down… But it makes me wonder if Boscha, like, looked up to Amity and wanted her approval and attention? Given how she’s always framed as following Amity… Perhaps Amity stepping down led to Boscha taking the spotlight, and so Boscha feels indebted towards Amity for her fame (and potential source of self-worth)?

Last but DEFINITELY not least; Somebody else (I’m sorry I keep forgetting) alluded to how in Understanding Willow, there was the issue set up of Luz meaning the best for friends… But also sometimes invading their privacy, or overriding what they want, so she can live out her fantasies at the same time! And, like- A big part of her IS doing this for her friends, that much is clear… But Luz does have an issue sometimes with clearing fantasy from reality! It’s a more advanced lesson from the one she learned in Episode 2, continuing off of that, and I LOVE it!

Like, I really do LOVE how Luz recognizes in this episode that even if a part of her is motivated in helping Willow, she’s also using this as a chance to live out her underdog Azura fantasies, and how Willow points this out to her… and Luz realizes that she’s right! She actively MAKES a change to her behavior, and makes up for it by fixing Willow’s hairclip and even forfeiting on Willow’s behalf and taking all the punishment… All because she doesn’t want her friend to be uncomfortable! Man, Luz is SO ridiculously kind, I keep saying she’s my favorite but she REALLY IS! What a lovable dork, no wonder Boscha and her friends are falling for her!

(Also RIP Skara, you were the fourth one in a team of three. Although given how she helped carry Luz and Amity in the previous episode, amidst already having more screen time… I can see this as a way for the writers to give more of a spotlight to Boscha’s other friends, while subtly acknowledging that Skara likely has gotten over her bias towards Luz and the others. I wonder if Boscha also noticed and that’s why she was left out; That, or she’s the least-skilled? I dunno, but it was neat to see and I’ll overanalyze the moment regardless!)

On a lesser note; Willow’s last name is Park, which is a Korean surname! Coupled with her VA’s ethnicity and Willow/Tati Gabrielle being listed amongst other Asian rep characters and VAs, and I think it’s safe to say that she’s the Boiling Isles equivalent to Asian; Which let me tell you, is VERY nice to see!

Overall, this was an AMAZING episode! It was a heartwarming, feel-good episode that reaffirmed character relationships and love while still expanding on them, adding in more friends to the group… It was pretty much nothing but happy moments and revelations! Obviously things are setting up in the next two episodes to go REALLY crazy, especially with Luz potentially getting banned from Hexside for defying Lilith and Belos… But it’s clear to say that she’s left QUITE the good impression on the administration and students! And I can see some even vibing with Luz’s ideas even after she gets kicked out… Perhaps Luz will unknowingly start a rebellion of sorts?

#the owl house #owl house #the owl house willow #willow park #the owl house boscha #the owl house luz #luz noceda #the owl house eda #edalyn clawthorne #the owl house lilith #lilith clawthorne #the owl house amity #amity blight #analysis

175 notes · View notes

linastudyblrsblog · 4 years ago

Text

Burnout, unfortunately, is everywhere. If you haven’t experienced it personally, you probably know someone who has self-diagnosed.

Defined by the World Health Organization as a syndrome “conceptualized as resulted from chronic workplace stress,” it causes exhaustion, “feelings of negativism or cynicism,” and reduced efficacy. That’s a big umbrella, and the condition has become something of a catch-all for chronic, modern-day stress.

Here are 11 of our favorites to help you create your own escape plan:

1. Figure out which kind of burnout you have.

The Association for Psychological Science found that burnout comes in three different types, and each one needs a different solution:

1. Overload: The frenetic employee who works toward success until exhaustion, is most closely related to emotional venting. These individuals might try to cope with their stress by complaining about the organizational hierarchy at work, feeling as though it imposes limits on their goals and ambitions. That coping strategy, unsurprisingly, seems to lead to a stress overload and a tendency to throw in the towel.

2. Lack of Development: Most closely associated with an avoidance coping strategy. These under-challenged workers tend to manage stress by distancing themselves from work, a strategy that leads to depersonalization and cynicism — a harbinger for burning out and packing up shop.

3. Neglect: Seems to stem from a coping strategy based on giving up in the face of stress. Even though these individuals want to achieve a certain goal, they lack the motivation to plow through barriers to get to it

2. Cut down and start saying “no.”

Every “yes” you say adds another thing on your plate and takes more energy away from you, and your creativity:

If you take on too many commitments, start saying ‘no’. If you have too many ideas, execute a few and put the rest in a folder labeled ‘backburner’. If you suffer from information overload, start blocking off downtime or focused worktime in your schedule (here are some tools that may help). Answer email at set times. Switch your phone off, or even leave it behind. The world won’t end. I promise.

3. Give up on getting motivated.

With real burnout mode, you’re too exhausted to stay positive. So don’t:

When you’re mired in negative emotions about work, resist the urge to try to stamp them out. Instead, get a little distance — step away from your desk, focus on your breath for a few seconds — and then just feel the negativity, without trying to banish it. Then take action alongside the emotion. Usually, the negative feelings will soon dissipate. Even if they don’t, you’ll be a step closer to a meaningful achievement.

4. Treat the disease, not the symptoms.

For real recovery and prevention to happen, you need to find the real, deeper issue behind why you’re burnt out:

Instead of overreacting to the blip, step back from it, see it as an incident instead of an indictment, and then examine it like Sherlock Holmes looking for clues.

For example, you could ask yourself: What happened before the slip? Did I encounter a specific trigger event such as a last-minute client request? Was there an unusual circumstance such as sickness? When did I first notice the reversion in my behavior? Is some part of this routine unsustainable and if so, how could I adjust it to make it more realistic?

5. Make downtime a daily ritual.

To help relieve pressure, schedule daily blocks of downtime to refuel your brain and well-being. It can be anything from meditation to a nap, a walk, or simply turning off the wifi for a while:

When it comes to scheduling, we will need to allocate blocks of time for deep thinking. Maybe you will carve out a 1-2 hour block on your calendar every day for taking a walk or grabbing a cup of coffee and just pondering some of those bigger things. I can even imagine a day when homes and apartments have a special switch that shuts down wi-fi and data access during dinner or at night – just to provide a temporary pause from the constant flow of status updates and other communications…

There is no better mental escape from our tech-charged world than the act of meditation. If only for 15 minutes, the ability to steer your mind away from constant stimulation is downright liberating. There are various kinds of meditation. Some forms require you to think about nothing and completely clear your mind. (This is quite hard, at least for me.) Other forms of meditation are about focusing on one specific thing – often your breath, or a mantra that you repeat in your head (or out loud) for 10-15 minutes…

If you can’t adopt meditation, you might also try clearing your mind the old fashioned way – by sleeping. The legendary energy expert and bestselling author Tony Schwartz takes a 20-minute nap every day. Even if it’s a few hours before he presents to a packed audience, he’ll take a short nap.

6. Stop being a perfectionist; start satisficing.

Trying to maximize every task and squeeze every drop of productivity out of your creative work is a recipe for exhaustion and procrastination. Set yourself boundaries for acceptable work and stick to them:

Consistently sacrificing your health, your well being, your relationships, and your sanity for the sake of living up to impossible standards will lead to some dangerous behaviors and, ironically, a great deal of procrastination. Instead of saying, “I’ll stay up until this is done,” say, “I’ll work until X time and then I’m stopping. I may end up needing to ask for an extension or complete less than perfect work. But that’s OK. I’m worth it.” Making sleep, exercise, and downtime a regular part of your life plays an essential role in a lasting, productive creative career.

7. Track your progress every day.

Keeping track allows you to see exactly how much is on your plate, not only day-to-day, but consistently over time:

Disappointing feedback can be painful at first – research shows that failure and losses can hurt twice as much as the pleasure of equivalent gains. But if you discover you’re off course, reliable feedback shows you by how much, and you then have the opportunity to take remedial action and to plot a new training regime or writing schedule. The temporary pain of negative feedback is nothing compared with the crushing experience of project failure. Better to discover that you’re behind and need to start writing an hour earlier each day, than to have your book contract rescinded further down the line because you’ve failed to deliver.

8. Change location often.

Entrepreneurs or freelancers can be especially prone to burnout. Joel Runyon plays “workstation popcorn,” in which he groups tasks by location and then switches, in order to keep work manageable, provide himself frequent breaks, and spend his time efficiently:

You find yourself spending hours at your computer, dutifully “working” but getting very little done. You finish each day with the dreaded feeling that you’re behind, and that you’re only falling farther and farther behind. You’re buried below an ever-growing to-do list. There’s a feeling of dread that tomorrow is coming, and that it’s bringing with it even more work that you probably won’t be able to get ahead on.

List out everything you need to do today. Try to be as specific as you can…Next, break that list into three sections. Step 1: Go to cafe [or desk, a different table in your office, etc.] #1. Step 2: Start working on item group #1…Once you finish all the tasks in group #1, get up and move. Close your tabs, pack your bags, and physically move your butt to your next spot. If you can, walk or bike to your next stop…When you get to the next cafe [or spot], start on the next action item group, and repeat…

When you’ve completed everything on your to-do list for the day, you are done working. Relax, kick back, and live your life. Don’t take work home with you because that won’t help you get more done – it will just wear you out.

9. Don’t overload what downtime you do get.

Vacations themselves can cause, or worsen burnout, with high-stress situations, expectations, and sleep interruption. Use it to help in recovery from burnout instead:

Make a flexible itinerary a priority. [A] study from Radboud University found that effective vacations give you the choice and freedom to choose what you want to do. That means two things: Try to avoid structuring your vacation around an unbreakable schedule, and plan on going somewhere that has multiple options to pick from depending on the weather, your level of energy, or your budget.

10. Write yourself fan mail.

Seth Godin uses self-fan mail as a way to keep motivated instead of burning out on a project that seems far from completion:

I define non-clinical anxiety as, “experiencing failure in advance.” If you’re busy enacting a future that hasn’t happened yet, and amplifying the worst possible outcomes, it’s no wonder it’s difficult to ship that work. With disappointment, I note that our culture doesn’t have an easily found word for the opposite. For experiencing success in advance. For visualizing the best possible outcomes before they happen. Will your book get a great testimonial? Write it out. Will your talk move someone in the audience to change and to let you know about it? What did they say? Will this new product gain shelf space at the local market? Take a picture. Writing yourself fan mail in advance, and picturing the change you’ve announced you’re trying, to make is an effective way to push yourself to build something that actually generates that action.

11. Break projects into bite-sized pieces.

Taking a task on in one entire lump can be exhausting and provide little room for rest in between. Breaking up your projects into set chunks with their own deadlines provides a much healthier, and easier, way of completing a large project:

The default take on deadlines is typically to consider them to be cumbersome and stressful. Yet, from another perspective, a deadline can be viewed as a huge benefit to any project. Without the urgency of a hard deadline pushing a project to completion, it’s easy for you, your team, or your client to lose focus. We’ve all worked on agonizing projects where the timeline just bleeds on and on, merely because the flexibility is there…

It turns out that the manner in which a task is presented to someone – or the way in which you present it to your brain – has a significant impact on how motivated you will be to take action. A study led by researcher Sean McCrea at the University of Konstanz in Germany recently found that people are much more likely to tackle a concrete task than an abstract task… It seems to me like the difference between being handed a map versus following the step-by-step instructions of a GPS device. Not everyone can read a map, but everyone can follow the directions. By breaking your project down into smaller, well-described tasks, the way forward becomes clear and it’s easy to take action.

66 notes · View notes

sweatergirlsposts · 5 years ago

Text

Imagine Billy asking you, his boyfriend, to come home to meet his family

Pairing: Billy Batson / Male!Reader

(A/N: I recommend listening to ‘No One Knows Us’ By BANNERS while listening to this)

Billy had been thinking about it for awhile now. You had kept asking to go over to his place, since you always had him over at your place, but he didn’t know if he was ready to come out to his family just yet.

In contrast to Billy’s family, your parents knew that you were gay from a very young age. One of the first signs was that you were interested in Shang from Mulan more than Mulan. At first they thought you were bisexual, until you openly came out as gay on your twelfth birthday. Of course your parents had to make some adjustments in how they see you but still love you no matter your interest.

When you started to bring Billy around your place, your mom would always try to be your wing-women, and you had to explain afterwards that just because you bring a guy around doesn’t mean you see him in that light. Billy was an exception.

Billy knew you were gay when he first met you through school. You weren’t obvious but noticing the different mannerisms you’d have interacting with others he could put the pieces together. Billy was afraid that you’d find out that he was routing for the other team, for he didn’t want you to ask to confirm or tell his family. Another family he was with were very devoted Christians that were not the most open about being gay, so he did what he only could do; he ran.

Before telling you that he was interested in you, as he liked to put it, he showed you his alter-ego. If you could handle that secret then he could definitely trust you to keep his secret, as well as your guys relationship.

Being born into a world full of superheros did have an influence in your preferences in guys. Not that you didn’t have a crush on Billy already but when he told you that he was a gay superhero made your stomach do somersaults.

“I think it’s time that I at least come to your place Billy,”

“I don’t know (Y/N), I just think that it would be kinda obvious if I brought you to the house. I don’t know how Rosa and Victor will react to me or us,” Billy paced back an forth in his shared room, that was vacant at the moment.

As part of your guys daily couple ritual, you guys would facetime about each other’s day and express your love when he couldn’t come over. Today you decided to bring up coming over for the sixth time, but to no avail Billy was still very apprehensive about it.

“Try talking to them, Billy, they are probably more accepting than you expect, hey they brought you in,” you cracked up.

Deadpanned, Billy just stared at you through the camera, “Ha ha, you’re so funny (Y/N). Can we just talk about something else”

“No because you keep avoiding it. I don’t want to nag on you Billy, I really don’t, but this means a lot to me. It may not seem as a big a deal as it is to you but-”

“What do you mean this might seem as big of a deal to me (Y/N)!? I don’t want to risk the chance of me being kicked out of another family because of who I can be with and love. For once I have a family that ‘accepts’ me and I have it good here. You don’t have to fear about your family saying that they don’t want you and kick you out because you’re gay. You can’t understand, you have a family that you didn’t have to fear accepting you.”

You didn’t know how to respond to Billy’s statement. For Billy, your boyfriend, to underestimate the amount of fear you had coming out to your parents baffled you. Coming out on your twelfth birthday was one of the most challenging and petrifying things that you have ever done, and for Billy to say that it wasn’t hard to do so made you internally livid and hurt.

“Billy, call me after you realize what you just said to me, and then we can talk. See ya around at school...,” you coldly countered and hung up the call. Immensely hurt by your boyfriends statement, you put your phone on your night table and decided to leave it for the time being and go do something else to distract you from your pain.

He really fucked up. Billy didn’t mean to put it like that. He just wanted to explain that he’s wants both you and his family in his life but if his family didn’t accept him then he’d move away. He couldn’t have both if things turned bitter.

Mad with himself, Billy decided that the only best way to get out this anger was to go fly for awhile. Making his way downstairs, he stumbled into Rosa on the last flight.

“Woah hey Billy what’s the rush?”

“I don’t wanna talk Rosa,” Billy put firmly trying to get past Rosa.

“Why is everything okay?”

“That’s none of your business”

Rosa didn’t like this. She’s noticed Billy’s mood swings in the last couple weeks, and have let it go, but she had to put her foot down at some point or another. That point was now.

“Actually William Joseph Batson, it is all of my business if you’re living under this roof. I have been letting go these mood swings you’ve been having but now you have to tell me if you want to leave the house,” Rosa crossed her arms looking at Billy waiting for an explanation.

“I can’t”

“And why is that?” Rosa still stood firm like a wall against deflections, she had to know. All Rosa wanted to know is if Billy was being safe. Billy didn’t answer.

“Billy I just wanna know that you’re okay. You really have been worrying Victor and I, honey. You sneak out at absurd times at night, you’re cooped up in your room talking to someone, you don’t tell us where you go after school and return at 10 o’clock. I’m running out options on how to help you and all I want to do is keep you safe Billy”

Billy could see the struggle to comprehend what was going on with him in her expression. Rosa made him feel the most comfortable in coming here other than Freddie. He found solace in Rosa after he found his real mother. In Billy’s eyes, Rosa was his motherly figure that he could depend on and really made him feel that he could come to her no matter the situation.

“Can we talk upstairs.” Billy whispered in more of a suggestion than asking.

“Of course,” Rosa followed Billy back into the shared bedroom. Rosa sat in the desk chair while Billy sat on the bed across from her. Billy could feel his palms sweat and collect moisture, so he wiped his hands on his pants.

“What is it th-”

“I’m gay,” slipped out of Billy’s mouth too fast for Rosa to catch it

“Pardon?”

“You wanted to know what was wrong with me, I’m gay” Billy huffed feeling the pressure to his chest increase waiting for the blow of Rosa’s response, “You happy?”

It took a couple of seconds for it to sink in before Rosa’s instincts kicked in.

“More than happy Billy. I’m so glad you told me” Rosa got out of the chair and sat beside him to give him a hug, “but that doesn’t explain where you go after school”

“About that I have this uh friend-”

“A boyfriend!?!?”

“Well I’m not sure after tonight,” Billy grabbed his phone from his pocket to check if you left any messages. Nothing.

“Well whatever you did, be sure to make it right. I want to meet this boy,” Rosa gives Billy one more hug before she stands up to exit the bedroom, “also Billy I’m surprised that you didn’t notice”

“Notice what?”

“That you aren’t the only one in this house. Pedro is gay too. No matter your preferences, we will always accept you in this house Billy, remember that,” Rosa consoled before exiting the room, leaving Billy to his thoughts.

Throughout the next day at school you avoided seeing Billy. Of course you wanted him to reach out to you but at the same time you knew it would be better to have space from him. The last bell had rung for the day, letting everyone know that they had to vacate the premise. Once you had gathered all your items from your locker, you started walking to the exit but were then pulled into an empty classroom.

You bumped into a hard chest which made you fall back onto your backpack. Looking up, from the ground, you see the person you weren’t expecting but still the same person you didn’t want to talk to at the moment.

It was Billy.....but in his alter ego.

“If you are here to apologize to me Batson, it would be pretty ingenuine to do it as him.”

“Well I need to get you alone somehow”

“That sounds really weird saying what you just said in this form Billy” you paused to expire, “I want to talk to you, the real you”

Looking down in slight shame, Billy whispered “Shazam” and reverted back into his true self. Your fourteen year old boyfriend made a step towards you but you stepped back. You weren’t going to give into his feel-sorry-for-me look. Seeing that you stepped away from him made it feel like you dropped an anvil down his throat, weighing him to his spot.

“I’m sorry (Y/N)”

You scoff not responding. Catching that a simple sorry wasn’t enough he continued.

“I’m sorry for saying that I said you couldn’t understand about being scared of being gay....”

“You should be”

“I was just scared that if I told my family about me and us that I would lose them and you” Billy paused and then carried on, “I told Rosa”

“About you?” you finally piped up shocked at Billy telling his adoptive mother, who he’s told you that he’s closest with in the family other than Freddie.

“And about us. That is also another reason why I wanted to talk to you other than apologizing of course,” Billy stepped forward and you let him. He grasped your hands in his before looking into your eyes.

“Since I told Rosa who is probably going to tell Victor, for which Darla is going to listen in on then she’s going to tell everyone, I wanted to ask you if would you like to come over and meet my family?”

“I thought you would never ask,” you smiled, you were still mad at Billy but this moment could not be ruined by it.

Billy leaned in, his eyes fluttering shut, and his head tilted one side. You copied his movements automatically to go in for a kiss. But fate had to mess it up.

You heard a gasp from the doorway. As soon as the door opened it was then slammed shut.

“If you guys are going to do anything in our room please close the door so I know,” Freddie called from behind the closed door

You laughed as Billy turned a deep shade red.

“Let’s try that again,” Billy turned to you, slipping his hand behind your neck before pushing his lips against yours. The kiss felt as if it was the full apology that Billy couldn’t get through with his words and that’s all you needed. You will forgive and not forget, but in this moment you would.

There had been mistakes made along the way to Billy coming out but he was glad that they were made. He would have never fully appreciated the gravity of the situation if there was none made. Billy was fully content that he could keep his family and the love of his life, you.

MASTERLIST

Request by @lavieroses-blog

#billy batson #billy batson x reader #billy batson imagine #billy batson imagines #shazam #shazam imagine #shazam x reader #shazam 2019 #billy batson x male!reader #male!reader #reader #x reader #imagines

228 notes · View notes

sunflowershouto · 5 years ago

Text

butterfly effect - katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

𝑵��𝒕𝒆: This wasn’t a request, I just wanted to write bakugou fluff, ya know? Hope you enjoy! This may be part one of a series, who knows? Depends on if people like it or not! Let me know if you’d like part two! Just a warning, reader has a bad relationship with her dad, and it’s pretty central to the story! Avoid this one if that topic is sensitive for you.

My requests are currently open!

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: ❝I knew the power of a single wish, after all. Invisible and inevitable, like a butterfly that beats its wings in one corner of the globe and with that single action changes the weather halfway across the world.❞

Set on the first day of class at U.A. for 1A!

𝑾𝒐𝒓𝒅 𝑪𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕: 2.8k

𝐛 𝐮 𝐭 𝐭 𝐞 𝐫 𝐟 𝐥 𝐲 𝐞 𝐟 𝐟 𝐞 𝐜 𝐭

It was your one wish in life for things to finally change.

You were burnt out, fed up, at the end of your rope, all because you felt as though nothing in your life was truly meaningful. Even getting into U.A. was cheapened by the fact that your father had put so much pressure on you to apply, to get in. By the time you got the notice of your acceptance, it hardly felt like your own accomplishment, just another thing you’d done to appease your father.

That morning was your first day, and you should have been excited, but if you were being honest, you felt more apprehensive than anything. You’d had so many chances like this, so many opportunities that could have, should have, completely changed your life. Only they hadn’t, and you were still that same burnt out girl who didn’t know what her own dreams were, who had spent her whole life doing everything for everyone but herself. You stared out your window as the sun rose over the city, and the only thing on your mind was a soft prayer, a quiet wish that today, things would be different.

You ate breakfast quietly at the table, speaking to your father and grandmother when spoken to, and feigning enthusiasm over your very first day at the Academy. Cups and bowls clinked harshly against the wooden table, long pauses in the conversation were awkward and stiff. You didn’t bother to try to fill the silences; if your father wanted to speak to you, he would.

“Take your bike to school today, Y/N.”

“What?” You looked up from your plate as your father gave you what seemed like an order. “Why? The train is so much easier.”

“You’ve spent all summer lazing around the house. Exercise will do you good for your first day. After all, you need to be successful here.” His tone was so callous, so impersonal.

It made you want to scream, to ask him why he cared more about your reputation than your feelings. You wanted to explode, to finally tell him that you didn’t care what he wanted, that you’d spent so long working for his ideals, that you didn’t even know yourself.

“Okay.”

The second you were out the door and on the way to the campus, your shoulders slumped, and you let out a heavy sigh. It always felt like that every time you left your house, as if a weight was being lifted off of your shoulders.

The fresh air was soothing as you retrieved your bike from the storage shed outside of your home, the the handlebars and axles stiff from not being used all summer.

“Stupid thing. . .” you muttered to yourself, jerking the handles around until they moved a bit more freely. “What difference does it make if I take my bike, huh? Stupid.”

Just like that, you started your ride to school, zoning out and escaping into your own thoughts as you watched the clouds roll lazily across the morning sky. Maybe. . . Maybe today things would change. All your life you’d been trying to do something that would get you away from that house, away from your father and his overbearing expectations. Even just something that would bring some form of joy to your life. You didn’t care what it was; if a stranger walked up to you, asking you to join the freaking circus, you would have said yes. You had always been a hopeful person, but how long could you hold out for something that wasn’t coming? Maybe you would always live under a shadow, maybe you would always be this lonely, this tired.

You didn’t notice as you came up over the top of a small hill, just kept coasting along until you started to head rapidly downwards. No problem, just brake and-

“What the-”

You gasped as you realized that your brakes weren’t working, and you had nothing slowing your momentum as you went faster and faster down the sloped sidewalk.

“Nonononononono!” you shrieked, desperately slamming your brakes and praying that they’d start working.

Just as you reached the bottom of the slope, someone rounded the corner, and you shrieked as you and the bicycle went slamming into them.

𝖢𝖱𝖠𝖲𝖧!

“Nnh. . .” Your head was fuzzy as you regained your bearings, half draped over whoever you had crashed into.

“Oi. . . What. The. HELL?! WHAT’S THE MATTER WITH YOU?!”

When you looked up, you were met with seething red eyes and a ruffled head of spiky blonde hair. And. . .

Oh, God, he’s wearing a U.A. uniform. Kill me, kill me, kill me!

You couldn’t even bring yourself to speak, only to stare dumbfounded up at this stranger (and possibly your classmate) as he berated you with a string of curses. This was not what you had meant when you’d wished for something to happen! Curse your stupid dad. . . If he’d just let you take the train like you’d wanted, you never would have met this jerk!

“Look, I’m sorry, okay? My brakes stopped working, and-” You stopped mid-sentence as you realized that your knee was stinging, badly. Great. Just another problem on the laundry list of reasons you didn’t want to be here. You looked down and found that your knee was badly scraped, a purple bruise forming around the cut.

“Serves you right, not watching where you’re going like that,” he nagged, glancing down at the wound before returning to glaring at you. “Are you stupid or something?!”

You grit your teeth, returning his glare with one of your own. You really weren’t in the mood for this, and this guy seemed to have his head so far up his own ass. . . “Unbelievable! I just told you my brakes stopped working! It was an accident, you jerk!”

“You’re the one that ran me over!” he shouted, shoving you off of him and rising to his feet.

“Well you don’t have to be such an ass about it! I said I’m sorry!” You rolled your eyes as you too got to your feet, picking your bike up off the ground, knuckles white around the handlebars.

“Whatever,” he muttered, shoving his hands into his pocket and shaking his head. He started to walk off, not even glancing back at you. “I’m not gonna let some stupid extra like you make me late on our first day.”

“Extra!?” That was it. You hated this idiot. What was wrong with him!? “You are unbelievable!” Just like that, you started walking after him, making a point of getting ahead of him and walking faster, not looking at him as you did.

“What are you-” Bakugou’s eyes narrowed as you went ahead of him, and he walked faster too, pulling ahead again and not slowing down.

Jerk.

You were almost jogging now, getting back ahead of him and rolling your bike alongside you. You reached the bike racks and you practically threw your bike at it; it was broken anyway, and you had a point to prove. You were only ahead of him for a couple seconds before he matched your pace, and you started into a full jog just to get ahead.

“Seriously?! You are so childish!”

“Shut it, extra.”

He got ahead again, and you had had it.

So had he.

At the same time, you both broke into a full sprint, booking it to the 1-A classroom and practically seething with rage. Other students stared as you ran by, but neither of you stopped to care. This was now a matter of principal.

Your knee was stinging badly by the time you both clamored into the doorway, out of breath and gathering all sorts of strange stares from your new classmates.

“. . .Okay, then? Looks like everyone is here now, so get seated. Doesn’t matter where, just hurry up.”

Your face flushed as you realized that the entire class, and the teacher, had just seen your display of stubbornness, and you started glaring daggers at that spiky-haired idiot, who had already managed to ruin your first day before class had even started.

In fact, you were so busy glowering, that you failed to notice that the only two seats left in the room were back to back. Your face paled, and a knot formed in your stomach. “You have got to be kidding me.”

You trudged over and fell into the seat, the idiot porcupine taking the seat directly behind you. Ten minutes into class, and you felt something small flick against the back of your head. When you turned to look, you saw Porcupine sitting there with a pile of wadded up paper and an insufferable sneer on his face.

He flicked another, and it struck you in the forehead.

You didn’t even bother, just turned back around and buried your head in your arms. This was going to be a long year.

-----------

It was five months into the school year, and you were absolutely about to lose your mind. No matter how well you did on evaluations, no matter how high you ranked in your class numbers, nothing was enough. You were still a disappointment to your father, he still thought you were lazy, not applying yourself. You were giving it your all, but getting nothing in return. You were exhausted and at your breaking point, and to top it all off, Katsuki Bakugou was as insufferable as ever.

He mocked you relentlessly, tore down your every achievement, and went out of his way to be a complete and utter bother. He was a porcupine idiot, and he managed to make your life at school just as miserable as it was at home. Today you’d had enough.

Of course, you’d been unlucky enough to pair with him in sparring, but better than that, you had been totally off your game. Bakugou had crushed you, and he’d made absolute sure that you knew it too.

I knew you’d wash up after a few months, L/N. Someone like you isn’t strong enough to make it to the top. Just quit already, we all know who’s gonna be number one around here, and it ain’t gonna be you!

You wanted to strangle him for saying that, but you didn’t have it in you to fight back that time. You shoved him off you and walked away without a word, something that even he had to notice was unlike you. You spent your lunch break alone in the 1-A classroom, your knees pulled up to your chest as you sat against the far wall, just beneath one of the window panes. You didn’t notice Bakugou’s phone sitting forgotten on his desk.

You breathed in and out as best you could, trying to tame the lump in your throat and keep any tears from spilling over. Even if he couldn’t see you, you couldn’t handle the idea of letting Bakugou make you cry. If he could see you right now, you knew exactly what he would say. He’d call you pathetic, tell you to quit. All things you were starting to believe. You had hoped so much that things at U.A. would be different, but despite all the knew friends you’d made, you felt worse than ever.

You looked up, slightly startled as your phone started ringing in your pocket, and a pit formed in your stomach as you saw your father’s contact lighting up the screen. You couldn’t ignore it; as soon as you were home, he’d just berate you about not picking up. You sucked in a breath, then held the phone to your ear.

“Hi, dad,” you greeted, trying your best to sound cheerful. “What is it?”

“I just got your report card in the mail,” he replied, his tone as cool as ever, lacking any of the concern or care that a parent’s voice should have. “Your grade in combat training went down. It was an ‘A.’ You have ‘B+’ now. Care to explain?”

“Dad. . .” Your chest started to feel like it was caving in, and suddenly you were talking around the lump in your throat. “I’m trying my best, I just-”

“Your best?! This clearly isn’t your best, Y/N, seeing as you’ve clearly gotten worse since last term! I’m not paying for you to be lazy and slack off! I’ve poured so much money into your education and you repay me like this?”

“It was just bad luck! I lost a few fights, I can get the grade back up, and-”

“No. If your grades slip any further there are going to be consequences. Serious ones.”

“Dad, please, I-”

“Do I make myself clear?!”

“I- Yes, papa.” Defeated, you let your phone clatter to the floor once you’d ended the call, and you buried your face in your knees, unable to hold back the tears that had finally started to spill over. You were shaking, and your fingers rooted in your hair, nails digging into the palms of your hand. Stupid. Stupid and worthless.

“Oi.”

Not now, Bakugou.

“Why are you even here? I know. I lost. Haven’t you rubbed it in enough?” you muttered, lifting your head and glaring up at Bakugou through watery eyes, unable to even muster a glare.

“Hmph. Don’t flatter yourself, I’m not here for you,” he assured you, gesturing to the phone that was sitting on his desk.

You looked away, diverting your gaze to the side and wiping your eyes with your sleeve, though more tears came just as soon as you did. Of course. It was always something small and stupid that ensured that you’d have to deal with Bakugou. He’d just had to leave his phone today of all days.

“You really just let him talk to you like that?”

“What?” You looked back over to him, eyes narrowed.

“Your old man. You’re really not gonna stand up to him? I thought you had more fight in you than that. Guess I was wrong.” He pocketed the phone and headed for the door.

“You don’t understand what he’s like.” You shook your head, eyes roaming the floor. “It’s not that easy. He expects everything to be perfect.”

“So what? You’re just gonna waste all your time doing all this for him? Pretty stupid if you ask me. You don’t even want to be a hero, so why-”

“You’re wrong.” You cut him off, looking over at him, his back still turned to you. “I do want to be a hero, I know that.”

“Then stop fucking crying about it and just do it. Letting someone else control your life is just pathetic,” he snapped, turning to look at you over his shoulder, expression mildly irritated. “Besides, sparring with you is a waste of my time if you’re not actually trying. You’re no use to me if you sit there crying all day, ‘cause no one’s gonna know how much better than you I actually am if I don’t destroy you while you give it your all.”

You rolled your eyes, but the tears were still coming. Never in your life had you expected Bakugou to be the one to encourage you, if you could even call this encouragement. You could see through him; he wasn’t heartless after all, but Bakugou even at his kindest was still pretty rough around the edges.

“Th-Thank you,” you mumbled, wiping at your eyes again. This was still humiliating, even if he was being nicer than usual. You hated crying in front of anyone, but especially someone like him. You squeezed your eyes shut, trying your best to control yourself and be strong.

You heard footsteps approaching, and gasped at the feeling of a hand resting heavily on top of your head, your eyes opening. You were met with Bakugou’s signature glare, red eyes drilling into you as he scowled, his hand tipping your head back so you would look at him.

“Don’t thank me, L/N. I said shut up and stop crying, damnit,” he growled, brow twitching in irritation.

Your eyes were wide as you stared at him for a long moment, before you burst into giggles, your hand coming up to cover your mouth.

His scowl deepened and his hand on top of your head tightened in anger. “What!? The hell are you laughing at me for?!”

“Sorry! Sorry! It’s just- You look so scary when you’re trying to be nice,” you laughed, a smile finally breaking through the tears.

He withdrew his hand, looking somewhat disgusted. “NICE?! DON’T GET IT CONFUSED! I WASN’T TRYING TO BE NICE TO YOU!”

You waved him off, your giggles finally subsiding and your spirits lifted slightly. “It’s okay, Bakugou. I won’t tell anyone that you’re not so bad.”

“Oh, shut up,” he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets as he headed for the door. “You’re still just a stupid extra.”

“Okay, Porcupine,” you called, wiping away the last of your tears and standing to watch him go.

And to think, all this because of a broken bike and a forgotten phone.

𝑬𝒏𝒅 𝑵𝒐𝒕𝒆: Thank you for reading! This can either be a stand-alone, or a part one! Let me know if you’d like to read more of this story!

#mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero imagines #my hero x reader #bnha x reader #bnha imagines #bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou imagine

125 notes · View notes

octothorpetopus · 5 years ago

Text

Yesterday Came Suddenly (Aaron Hotchner x Emily Prentiss, Derek Morgan x Spencer Reid)

A disastrous car accident changes four lives forever.

A/N: this has a happy ending, I promise!

Tags: @rxseinbloom @cha0ticbisexual @starsandsupernovae @agenthotchner @ange-must-die

With the way both of them drove, it was a wonder it had never happened sooner. That being said, it wasn’t either of their faults, not Derek’s behind the wheel or Hotch’s in the passenger seat. It was no one’s fault when a deer came out of nowhere and Derek swerved on instinct, wrenching the wheel right without remembering they were riding the edge of a cliff. He slammed the brakes, but it didn’t matter, they already had enough momentum to carry them over the edge. The car was weightless for a moment, a moment that seemed to last forever. But the moment did end, and the car tipped, glass and metal crunching where they hit earth, first on the front right, then turning so they were rolling, rolling way too fast down the side of the hill, shattered glass flying as the world turned in a nightmarish carousel. It seemed like they rolled for hours down that hill, although it was probably only seconds. They never really knew, because Hotch was knocked unconscious upon first impact, and Derek smashed his forehead against the steering wheel sometime after that. At some point between blacking out and waking up, the car came to a stop, thankfully right side up. Derek woke with a start, gasping for air as if he was drowning. For a moment, he didn’t know what had happened, and all he felt was warm, sticky blood dripping onto his cheeks from a wound over his eye. Then the pain from his legs hit him, and he squeezed his fists so tight he felt the skin on his palms break, but it didn’t matter, it wasn’t anywhere near his legs. When the pain subsided (still, only slightly), he opened his eyes, and at first saw everything through a haze of red. Every window was completely shattered, but the cab of the SUV had held up surprisingly well. The hood, or at least as much as he could see, was crumpled, and the roof was full of dents, but the airbags and seatbelts had saved them from the almost certain death. They’d both have concussions, and Derek was fairly certain his nose was broken, but he was awake and alert, which was a good sign. His hands shook almost comically as he patted himself down. He’d have bruises where the seatbelt cut into his shoulder and waist, but his upper body was mostly fine. His legs, though, were a different story. His left leg bent nauseatingly at mid-thigh. Broken. The lower part of his right leg hung loosely from the knee. Definitely broken. With wavering hands, Derek unbuckled his seatbelt, wincing as it snapped across his bruised ribs. That was the first time he noticed Hotch. Hotch was still passed out, his chin resting on his chest. Derek couldn’t see much of Hotch, except that his left shoulder was sharply out of place and his face was dotted with tiny red cuts where the shattered window had slashed his face.

“Hotch.” He reaches over as much as he could to shake Hotch’s leg. “Hotch. Wake up, come on, Hotch, wake up!” Hotch woke in much the same way Derek had, panting and gasping for air.

“What- what happened?” His eyes scanned the car wildly before coming to meet Derek’s, and they were more terrified than Derek had ever seen him.

“There was… there was a deer, I think. In the road. I swerved, and we must have gone over the edge. The car’s pretty busted up. I’m mostly fine- well, no. Both my legs are broken. Other than that, I’ve got some bruises, a broken nose, probably a concussion, and possibly a broken finger. You look like you’ve got a dislocated shoulder, can you see what else?” Hotch, still slightly bewildered, unbuckled his seatbelt with his right hand.

“My legs are a little bruised up, and so’s my face, but my shoulder looks like it’s the only-“ he went silent, and Derek’s heart dropped.

“What?” He followed Hotch’s gaze down to his stomach, where a growing patch of red surrounded a narrow cut in his shirt. Gingerly, Hotch pulled the fabric away. A cut surrounded by glittering pieces of glass was leaking blood, having previously been camouflaged by the seatbelt. It didn’t look like it went all the way through, but there was already a significant amount of blood.

“Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Hotch’s head fell back against the headrest. “Wait. Can you get your cell?” Derek found his phone on the console, but it was completely busted.

“Try yours.” With his okay hand, Hotch pulled his out of his pants pocket.

“No. It must have gotten crushed between me and the door.”

“Damn it.” If Derek had been any less practical of a person, he would have started crying. He certainly felt like it. But crying wouldn’t help Hotch, who was bleeding out from his stomach. “Hotch, we have to fix your arm if we’re going to have any hope or stopping the bleeding.”

“Okay. Do you know how to do that?”

“I’ve had some first aid training. But I’m also your only shot.” Hotch didn’t hesitate.

“Do it.” Derek turned as much as he could, giving a muffled cry as his legs burned under him. He braced one hand against Hotch’s ribs and grabbed his shoulder in the other. “I’m gonna count to three, and then you’re gonna say ‘wishbone’. Got it?” Hotch nodded, on the verge of hyperventilating but still somehow making an effort to stay calm.

“One… two… three…”

“Wishbone!” Hotch yelped as his shoulder cracked back into place.

“You good?” Hotch, panting, nodded. “You’ll need a better fix down the road, but that’s not our most pressing issue.” Derek, attaining with the effort, pulled off his leather jacket and hoodie. He handed Hotch the hoodie. “I need you to put pressure on the cut. I’m not sure, but the glass might have cut your aorta. If it did, we’re going to have a problem. I would get you out of there and try to hold pressure myself, but my legs-“

“Don’t worry about it, Morgan.” Hotch held the hoodie to his stomach. “We should get those legs set.”

“How?”

“I could try to find some sticks or something-“

“Hotch, you can’t go anywhere.”

“Give me your jacket.” Hotch, still holding the hoodie to his stomach, wrapped the jacket around it, holding the hoodie in place. “Voila,” he said, wincing.

“That’s not gonna last.”

“No, but there’s a first aid kit in the back. I’ll help you get your legs set, then you help me.” Hotch got out of the car, but didn’t shut the door. “There are a few trees down here, I should be able to get decently sized branches and make some splints.” Wobbling slightly, he walked away, disappearing into the underbrush. Derek sighed and sat back, waiting for him to return. Their phones were both dead, and depending on how much damage they’d taken internally, it was possible the trackers could have been destroyed. The same went for the car’s GPS. So if their electronic tracking was out the window, then what? They had been en route to the unsub’s house from the police station. JJ and Rossi had been interviewing the latest victim’s family one last time when Hotch had called and told them where to go. Emily and Reid had been at the coroner. The road that Hotch and Morgan had been driving on was a narrow road along a ravine, which they were now at the bottom of. No one else had been coming from the same direction, so there was no chance of anyone just seeing them on their way. It hadn’t been very long, but it was probably long enough that someone had realized something was up, and once they realized they couldn’t get in contact, it would be an all-out search. That being said, they wouldn’t worry about them until they arrested their unsub, which could be another hour or more, if he ran. And even once they realized something was wrong, they would have to search a significant amount of road. It was possible they could be stranded at the bottom of this ravine for a very long time. Their best bet was to get a fire started, and pray that some poor soul saw the smoke.

“I’m back.” Hotch was breathless, his forehead was shimmering with sweat, and his shirt was deep red around Derek’s hoodie, but he held two sturdy-looking branches in his arms. “Can you turn around?” Derek put his weight back on his arms and tried to swivel out towards the car door, which Hotch had just opened. He managed to turn his hips, but couldn’t manage to move his legs.

“I can’t,” he said, his voice straining.

“Then I need to move your legs, otherwise I won’t be able to get access.” Hotch loosened his tie and pulled it over his head. “Bite down.” Derek took the knot between his teeth and clenched his jaw. He screamed into the purple tie as Hotch seized his leg, even as gently as he could, and turned it out the door. “Just one more. You’re doing great, Morgan.” His other leg burned with a searing, white-hot pain, even after it was fully turned. Hotch pulled his jacket off, gasping as he wrenched the wound on his stomach. He ripped it into strips, which he draped over his shoulder. “This is going to hurt. Really bad.”

“Just do it,” Derek replied, muffled. Hotch lifted his left leg from the calf so that it sat in a completely straight line. Derek yelped, screaming curses into the empty, echoing valley. Hotch tied one of the branches to his leg with strips of his jacket. When he was done, he cupped Derek’s face in his hands, both of them panting heavily. It was a platonic gesture of affection, but a rare one from Hotch. It seemed like if there had ever been a time for it, it was now. The other leg hurt almost more, but Derek held onto consciousness. He would not pass out.

“Your nose might heal a little fucked up, but I’m not going to risk making it worse.”

“It’s fine, Hotch. Could you grab the first-aid kit? Don’t hurt yourself too much.”

“I’m fine.” But his pale, clammy face and the growing red patch gave him away. There wasn’t much Derek could do to stop him, though, was there?

Hotch wasn’t paying that much attention to his own injuries, frankly. He knew that was stupid, especially because Derek was right and if the glass had cut his aorta, he was screwed, but there wasn’t much they could do so far. The most there was in the first aid kit was gauze and bandages, which wouldn’t stop bleeding from a major artery. He could feel himself getting more and more lightheaded with every step towards the back of the car. The trunk wouldn’t open, but the window was completely knocked out, so he was able to reach in and pull out the first aid kit without scratching himself on the glass. From the front of the car, he could hear Derek groaning softly. Maybe there were some painkillers in there, even if it was just Advil. But first, they had some other stuff to handle.

“I have to get you out of there.” Morgan’s eyes narrowed.

“Why?”

“At least until the sun sets. It’s way too hot out here, if we stay in the car we’ll just get dehydrated that much faster. Also, it’ll be more comfortable for you when you’re patching me up.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“I’m going to have to lift you out of there.” Before waiting for a response, Hotch slid an arm under Derek’s arms and grunted as he lifted Derek over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. He set him down so he was sitting against the side of the car. “This is where we’ll have the most shade.”

“Ow.” Derek prodded his ribs. “That hurt.”

“Yeah, whatever. Can you help patch me up?” Hotch unbuttoned his shirt and let it fall to the sandy ground along with Derek’s jacket and hoodie. A few drops of blood landed in the dirt alongside them. As he sat down on the ground, he handed Derek the kit.

“Let’s see… we’ve got gauze, band-aids, rubbing alcohol… nothing for sutures.”

“That’s fine, it wouldn’t have done any good if I’m bleeding internally.” Derek swiped a cotton ball soaked in alcohol across the front wound. Hotch hissed, but didn’t flinch. He allowed Derek to wrap gauze around his stomach, and then slumped against the car beside him.

“So… what do we do?” Hotch just shrugged. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I have no idea. We sit. We wait. And we hope.” Out of the corner of his eye, Hotch saw Derek begin to shake. His first thought was that he was having some sort of seizure from hitting his head, and Hotch’s gut dropped. Then he realized he was crying. He lifted his aching arm, but not the one that was dislocated, and wrapped it around Derek’s shoulders. He wished he could move his other arm enough to fully encompass his friend, but they’d have to settle for this for now. “They’ll find us.”

“God, I hope you’re right,” Derek said through his tears, which cut streaks in the blood and dirt on his face. “I know it’s stupid to be thinking about all the things I wish I’d done, but there are too many.”

“Yeah.” Hotch leaned his head against Derek’s shoulder, another uncharacteristically affectionate gesture, but then again, if there was ever a time for affection, it was now.

Derek was thinking about his house. It was a two-bedroom cottage in the DC suburbs, not the kind of place anyone would have expected from him. He tried his hardest to take care of his garden, but he was always gone too long and the flowers dried up. Who was watering the flowers? For that matter, who was feeding Clooney, his 11-year-old German Shepherd? If he died, would anyone remember to go check on him? He thought about the photos that lined the clean white halls, which he had always meant to paint a bright green but never gotten around to. There were pictures of his mom, his sisters, his dad, his friends. He thought about the tins of cookies stacked up on his counter, which Penelope brought over about twice a week. He thought about the episodes of Storage Wars piling up on his DVR. He had never planned for dying like this. He had a will, every FBI field agent he knew had a will, so that wasn’t an issue. But there were so many things he had never thought about before now. And then there were the things he always planned on doing, like taking Penelope to Thailand, which they’d always talked about, or learning how to weld, or-

“Hotch, can I tell you something?”

“What?” Hotch perked up, but he looked worse than ever. His hand was freezing on Derek’s arm, and the gauze on his stomach was already soaked through.

“I’m talking to you as a friend. Not as FBI agents, and you can’t be my boss about this.”

“Derek. We’re friends.”

“Okay.” Derek swallowed, his throat dry and dusty, but still began to speak. “I wish I’d told all the people I love that I love them.” His heart felt like it was twisting itself in two, but he kept on. “My team. My family. And… Spencer.” Hotch turned just slightly to look up at him, not as surprised as Derek had expected him to be. “I always thought I’d tell him later. I had a plan. I was going to wait and ask him to that French film festival next month. And then I was gonna walk him home and tell him how I felt. I had a whole plan, and now even if I make it through this, I’m still gonna have two broken legs. So no film festival.”

“I’ll be honest, Morgan… I kind of figured.”

“What, you knew I had feelings for him?”

“I didn’t know, but I had my suspicions.” Hotch chuckled and then groaned.

“How’d you know?”

“Well, you always loved to tease him, but last year, you really picked up on it. And I know you well enough to know that’s how you flirt.”

“Wow. You know how I know you’re a better profiler than me? Because you figured it out last year, and I barely got it five months ago.”

“That’s why I’m your boss.”

“So, what, you’re not gonna yell at me for falling for another agent?”

“No. Not right now, anyway. Morgan, don’t ever let this job stop you from loving someone. That’s where I’ve always gone wrong. Those rules exist for a reason, but sometimes… well, fuck the rules sometimes.” Hotch shivered, and Derek pulled him in tighter. It was unbearably hot out, but Hotch was still freezing. That was bad. That meant blood loss. “Still. I wish I’d said something.” He sort of hoped Hotch would say something like “We’re going to make it out of here,” but that wasn’t in the cards. Of course it wasn’t. Hotch wasn’t the kind of guy to make empty promises and Derek wasn’t the kind of guy to believe them. For the first time, he really looked out at the landscape around them. They were somewhere in the Nevada desert, surrounded by nothing but red dirt and the odd tree. The sides of the mountain they had been driving on sloped up around them, steep but not steep enough that they couldn’t have climbed up if not for their various injuries. They were far enough down that someone just driving on the road wouldn’t have seen them unless they noticed the tire tracks and stopped to check it out. His phone was busted, and so was his watch, but judging from the sun’s position in the sky, it was closing in on six o’clock. They had only been down here for a half an hour, an hour max, but who knew how long it would take the rest of the team to catch their guy? And even then, they had about 35 miles of road to check out, and the darker it got, the harder it would be for them to notice the tire tracks. The longer they were down here, the better it was looking that none of the major arteries in Hotch’s body had been harmed, but if they weren’t found within a few hours, that wasn’t going to matter. He’d bleed out anyway. And although his broken legs wouldn’t kill him, Derek realized if he didn’t get water, he’d die of dehydration, or starvation, or heat exposure, or hypothermia, or just plain old hungry desert coyotes. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, only he didn’t know who he was apologizing to. Hotch, maybe. Or God. Maybe it was to his father, who he’d always tried to be as good as, or maybe it was to Spencer for never telling him about his feelings. There were too many people Derek had to apologize to, and for the first time in his 30-something years of life, he was realizing he really might never get the chance.

Meanwhile, Hotch was considering his team. He found that that was how he spent most of his days, at least when Jack wasn’t around. Who else was there to think about? Haley? He didn’t like to sound callous, but there wasn’t much more to think about with her. Beth? Beth, who had left him and gone to New York? Again, what more could he say? There was only Jack, the team, and, well, her.

“Morgan, while we’re on the subject…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not the only one.”

“Not the only what? Person in love with Reid? ‘Cause if you say you are, I’m gonna-”

“No. Not Reid.”

“Good.” Derek paused. “Wait, then who?” The way he looked at Hotch, he really didn’t know. Then again, Hotch supposed he had always been better at hiding his feelings than the rest of them.

“Emily,” he said simply. “It’s always been Emily.” Beside him, he felt Derek’s head turn to look up at him.

“I- like, our Emily? Emily Prentiss? Supervisory Special Agent Emily Prentiss?”

“No, the other Emily we both know- yes, Emily Prentiss.” Hotch let his head fall back against the car, his hand resting over the gauze on his bare stomach, which was warm and damp with his own blood. He was really bleeding out. It was only just beginning to click, but he pushed it down. Those were feelings he couldn’t afford to deal with right now.

“Why the hell didn’t you tell her? You know she loves you, right?” Hotch sighed.

“Maybe. I don’t know, maybe I know she does. But that doesn’t change the fact that I’m her boss, and even if I wasn’t, we still work together. Our jobs rely on us being able to be impartial, and if we’re together… it clouds my judgement, and my judgement is all I have.”

“Hotch, not five minutes ago, you told me to fuck the rules. That was your exact wording. Your judgement if you and Emily love each other out loud instead of in that broody silence you both love so much isn’t going to change, because you’ll be feeling the same feelings you are right now, except then you won’t have the pressure of pushing them down that you’ve had to hold onto for so long. Fuck the rules, right?” Hotch turned to look down at Derek, smiling as much as he could despite the fading black at the edges of his vision.

“Yeah. Fuck the rules.”

Hotch didn’t look so good. Derek didn’t have much to think about, so he thought about that. Hotch’s breathing had slowed. A lot. And there was a lot of blood soaking through the gauze wrapped around his stomach, enough that another layer wouldn’t help. The sun was finally beginning to set, the signal that their chances were about to dim significantly. Even as bad as he looked, Hotch still managed to stand up.

“Where are you- Hotch, what are you doing?”

“I have to grab something. I’ll be right back.” Derek heard him open the door on the other side of the car and rifle through the glove compartment. He returned with a notepad and a pair of pens. Slowly, and with a lot of effort, he sat back down and ripped a sheet off the top of the notepad. He handed it to Derek, along with one of the pens.

“What’s this for?” Hotch grinned, but it was more like a grimace.

“Write him a letter. Spencer. Just… just in case.” With trembling hands, Derek took the paper and pen. He had to brace it against his own hand, so he wouldn’t hurt his leg, but he found he could steady himself enough to write what he needed to. Beside him, Hotch was writing a letter of his own. In shaky, splotchy chicken scratch, Derek began to write.

Spencer,

Don’t worry about me, kid. I know you, I know how much you love to beat yourself up for things. Don’t. What happened was no one’s fault but mine and that stupid deer in the road’s. Things happen and if you’re reading this, the worst thing happened. And if the worst happened, that means I never got to tell you how I feel about you. This is pretty clearly not how I wanted to tell you, but I wanted you to know. This letter is so you don’t have to see my face every day, knowing how I feel about you, and never get to say anything to me. I’m telling you you don’t need to. However you feel about me, just knowing that I love you is all that matters. Don’t feel bad about never telling me if you felt the same, and never feel bad about letting me die loving you if you didn’t. Loving you was all I needed, kid. But oh, man, the things I wish I’d gotten to tell you. I was going to ask you to that French film festival in Baltimore next month. I learned some French for it and everything. You were going to be so impressed with me. Actually, you’d probably shake your head condescendingly, smile, and tell me all about how wrong my pronunciations were, probably. Still. I’m sorry we’ll never get to do that. I’m as sorry that I’ll never get to hold your hand or kiss you in the rain as I am that I’ll never get to make fun of your hair or give you an awkward fist bump. You were my friend long before I ever fell for you and you’ll be my friend even when I’m gone. I’m running out of space to write. I love you.

Your friend,

D. Morgan

When he finished writing, he finally noticed the tears bleeding through the paper, mixed in with smudges of blood from his broken nose. He folded the letter and shoved it in his pocket. That letter would survive the sun and the elements. Even if he didn’t.

Hotch was writing his own letter. At first, he didn’t know what to say. What was there to say? I’m sorry I’m dead, I love you? But then again, that was probably better than saying nothing at all. So he started writing, really having no idea where he was going at all.

Dear Emily,

This isn’t an apology. I think I should say that first. Although I have a lot to apologize for, I only have a little room and I don’t want to take up your time with the things that won’t matter if you’re reading this. The long and the short of it is that I never told you how I felt about you. How I feel about you even now as I write this letter. I know I said this wasn’t going to be an apology, but I am sorry about not telling you sooner. There was just too much to think about. There’s less to think about now. All I can think of is Jack and you. If I ever get out of here, I swear to god I’ll tell you that myself. I didn’t tell you because you deserve so much more than me. You deserve the entire universe and then some, so much more than one tired old man who can’t even save himself. I have a few requests for you, if it’s not out of line for me to ask. First, don’t blame me, don’t blame yourself, and if Derek gets out of here and I don’t, don’t blame him. It’s no one’s fault. Second, Haley’s sister can and will take Jack in, but make sure he knows the team is as much his family as any of his blood relatives. I don’t worry about him forgetting me, but I don’t want him forgetting you either. My last request is my biggest. They’ll have to fill my position as soon as possible, and I want them to give the job to you. You’re the best suited to take over, and I trust you to keep the team on track. Strauss will put up a fight, but there’s a document in my desk that outlines all of my reasons and wishes for the team following my death. Your promotion is the first thing on that document. If you don’t want the job, I obviously can’t make you take it, but if your only reason is because you think I only want you to have it because of my feelings for you, it’s not. My faith in you as an agent, as a person, and as a friend is never-ending.

-Hotch

Before putting the letter in his pocket, Hotch turned to Derek, his face and tone stern.

“Derek. If anything happens to me, if you get out of here and I don’t, you make sure this gets to Emily. Promise me.”

“I promise, Hotch, of course. You’ll do the same for me?”

“Yes.” Hotch held his hand out for a shake, but Derek just took it and held it, his hand warm and firm against Hotch’s. “We should start thinking about a fire. It’s going to get cold out here before too long.”

“I don’t think so, Hotch. I can’t walk, and you’re not looking too good.” Hotch couldn’t see himself, but he didn’t feel good either. His heartbeat was thready, but fast, like a hummingbird’s. His vision spun, and his grip was weakening by the minute. If he had been a praying man, Hotch would have started praying about now. But he didn’t really believe in God, so who was there to pray to? He turned his head up towards the darkening sky and thought of Emily.

It was fully dark now. Stars unlike anything Derek had seen in Chicago or D.C. lit up the sky, and he would have marveled at their beauty if not for the cold that was beginning to dig deep into his bones. Between the two of them, they had three jackets that they had sort of formed into a patchwork blanket over them, but it wasn’t enough. Hotch shivered against him, and Derek felt more powerless than he had at any point since the crash. His friend was dying, like it or not, of blood loss and hypothermia and god knew what else, and there was nothing he could do except wait for them to be found. They were both still awake. That was good. But they hadn’t seen a single car pass by in five hours, at least. That was bad.

“Come on, buddy, stay awake.” Derek shook Hotch gently, careful not to touch his bad shoulder. Hotch blinked rapidly, but he looked more exhausted than ever. In the dark light, he was ghostly pale.

“I’m up.”

“Good.” Together, they watched the stars for a bit. “Spencer taught me some of the constellations.” He pointed as he recognized them. “That’s Gemini, the twins. And Columba, the dove.”

“I never knew anything about astronomy. I always had a plan to learn, but then…”

“Time gets away from you.”

“Yeah, it does.”

“I was going to learn how to bake.” Hotch didn’t respond. “Hotch?” When Derek glanced down at him, Hotch’s eyes were just fluttering shut, and his muscles relaxed. He looked like a rag doll. “Hotch, come on. Come on, buddy. Come on.” Derek shook him more aggressively now, caring less about whether he hurt the busted shoulder. Hotch could recover from a dislocated shoulder, but he wasn’t going to get the chance if they didn’t get some help, and soon. “Help!” Derek screamed, his voice ripping through the empty black fabric of the desert. “Someone help us, goddamnit!” Other than an echo off the side of the ravine, there was nothing. And then there was something. At first, he thought maybe he was imagining it, or that it was just the stars reflecting off the red rocks. Then it got closer, and he realized what it was.

Headlights.

If he could have stood up, he would have, but he settled for screaming. “Help us! We’re down here!” The headlights slowed, and Derek saw them glance off the shiny black finish of the Lincoln SUVs he recognized so well. Four silhouettes appeared in the lights, and one of them shone a flashlight down. Derek flinched at the brilliant light, but still, he smiled, tears pouring down his cheeks.

“Morgan?” Rossi’s voice bounced off the rocks to reach him.

“You gotta get us out of here!”

“We’re coming down!” Carefully, but as quickly as they could, the four silhouettes clambered down the side of the cliff, which wasn’t so much a cliff as it was a steep, rocky hill. JJ reached them first, her eyes wide.

“Oh my god, what happened?”

“There was a deer in the road, I swerved… you get the rest. Look, we have to get Hotch out of here, he’s lost a lot of blood and he just passed out.”

“Hotch!” Emily, who had just arrived, rushed to him. “Rossi, give me a hand.” Together, the two of them managed to secure Hotch’s arms over their shoulders and begin to carry him out. Spencer was the last to arrive, passing Emily and Rossi on their way out. He gave a short, pained cry when he saw Derek sitting on the ground.

“I’m okay, kid.”

“No, you’re not! I- your legs!” Derek ignored this momentarily.

“JJ, call 911. I’ll have to stay down here until the ambulance comes, there’s no way you can get me out without a stretcher.”

“I have to go back up to get service.” She looked between Derek and Spencer nervously.

“I’ll stay with him. Go.” She began the climb back up, and Spencer knelt in front of Derek. “Derek, follow my finger.” Spencer held up a finger and waved it back and forth in front of Derek’s eyes. “What’s the date today?”

“February… uh…”

“Derek.”

“I can’t remember.” Spencer paused, his brow furrowed in focus, but relaxed.

“You’re almost certainly concussed, but so far, it seems like you’ve avoided major brain damage.”

“Oh. Good.” Despite the pain that hadn’t subsided since the crash, Derek managed a smile. “It’s good to see you, kid.”

“What the hell happened?” Spencer asked, uncharacteristically tender. His face was weary and ten years older than he had been this morning.

“Deer jumped into the road, I swerved. The car held up better than I would have expected.”

“You could’ve died.”

“I’m aware.” Spencer hesitated, searching Derek’s face with those big hazel eyes, the eyes that saw everything, like he had some kind of superhuman x-ray vision. “Spencer, I-” He was cut off by the sound of sirens. “Christ, that didn’t take long.”

“Well, we’ve kinda had a whole search party going for the last couple of hours.”

“You found me.” Spencer squeezed his hand, and if Derek’s heart hadn’t already been pounding, it would have started.

“I found you.” They were joined by a series of EMTs with a stretcher, who carried Derek out of the ravine, noting as they went the cleverness of the splints Hotch had made. No one said anything about Hotch.

Hotch woke up in a quiet, empty hospital room with sunlight streaming in through the windows and an oxygen mask over his face. The first thing he noticed was that he wasn’t in pain. They must have loaded him up with painkillers for his shoulder. Also, he wasn’t dead. That was nice. The door opened, and Emily stepped in, holding a Starbucks cup and looking dead tired. She didn’t seem to notice he was awake at first, and she leaned against the door, breathing slowly and deeply.

“Come on, Aaron. Wake up. Please.” He cleared his throat as best he could, and she jumped. “Oh my god!” He smiled.

“Hi.”

“I- hi.” She sat down in the chair beside his bed. “We were worried about you for a while there.”

“Yeah? Last thing I remember was Morgan telling me about constellations, and then…” He gestured to the room around them.

“You lost a lot of blood. If we’d gotten there even a few minutes later, I don’t-”

“You didn’t. You got there in time. Don’t think about what didn’t happen.” She brightened at that, a brilliant smile spreading across her face.

“Oh!” She jumped again, this time in recollection. “Your clothes are kind of ruined, but they found this in your pocket.” She pressed the letter, the one he’d written to her in what he thought were his last moments, into his hand.

“Did you… did you read it?” She shook her head, completely innocent to the letter’s contents. Good. He had hoped she wouldn’t have to read it. He hoped she would never have to read it.

“What is it?”

“Nothing. Just a contingency plan, I guess.” She nodded, as if that was enough explanation, although Hotch could tell it wasn’t.

“Listen, Hotch-”

“Emily, I-”

“You go first.”

“No, go ahead.” Emily folded her hands as if to steady them and stared at the spot just above Hotch’s head. Hotch recognized that well. She couldn’t bring herself to look into his eyes.

“You flatlined in the ambulance. Twice. And I’ve never been as scared in my life as I was those two times I thought you were gone for good.”

“Em-”

“No, let me finish. I know… there’s a lot of things we’ll have to figure out, but Hotch…” Her pleading, earnest eyes bore into him. “I think maybe I love you. I think maybe I have for a long time. And it’s not worth it for me to stay quiet anymore. If you need to transfer me to a different unit, um, I-”

“Emily.” Despite his gentle tone, she still looked up at him, shocked. “You’re not getting transferred.”

“Hotch, I can’t ask you to-”

“No, Emily. You’re not getting transferred and I’m not doing anything I don’t want to do.” Slowly but surely, he reached over to take her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles, his eyes never leaving hers.

“...oh.”

“All I could think about out there was you and Jack. I’m not staying quiet anymore either.” Emily tried and failed to bite back a grin.

“We’re going to have to talk to HR.”

“Yep.”

“Strauss is going to flip her shit.”

“Strauss isn’t going to find out, and if she does, she’s going to have to take me down.”

“We’re doing this?”

“I’m up for it. Are you?” Emily didn’t hesitate. She just kissed him, careful to avoid his arm and stomach injuries. Hotch was honestly pretty sure it was the best kiss of his life. Almost made the near-death experience worth it.

Derek also woke up in a sunny hospital room, only his wasn’t empty and it was far from quiet. The first thing he heard was Spencer yelling.

“...I know you did an MRI, but you need to test his TBI and monitor his ICP! Christ, where did you get your medical degree, the internet?”

“Spencer.” His voice was low and raspy, but it got Spencer’s attention well enough. “Let the doctors do their jobs.”

“But they’re not, they’re not running all the tests they should be, and-”

“Spencer.” Like a petulant child, Spencer quieted, and the doctors took their chance to leave. He didn’t stay annoyed for long, he couldn’t help it.

“How are you feeling?” Derek sighed.

“Well, I’ve got one hell of a headache, but the painkillers seem like they’re doing their jobs.”

“You got lucky. Only one of your legs was a total fracture, and neither one caused much internal bleeding.”

“How about my nose? Is my face gonna be all fucked up?”

“It took a little plastic surgery, but your nose will be good as new.”

“Good. One of us has to be the pretty one, and we both know it’s supposed to be me.” Spencer tapped a nervous melody on his bony knee, which bounced like what Derek liked to call Restless Leg Syndrome On Steroids.

“You should have driven with us. I know you hate sitting in the backseat, but-”

“Spencer. It’s not your fault. Or mine.”

“Yeah. I got that.” Derek’s brows furrowed. What the hell did that mean? Spencer brushed his curls off his forehead, trying not to smile and failing desperately. He hugged Derek tightly, and Derek let him, despite his bruised ribs screaming.Derek unbaked deeply, taking in the scent of coffee and lemon soap he knew so well. He had nearly fallen into a trance when Spencer spoke. “So, French, huh?”

“What?” At first, Derek thought maybe he had gotten some severe brain damage. Then it clicked and he pulled out of Spencer’s arms, eyes wide and heart in his throat. “...you read it.”

“It fell out of your pocket in the ambulance. I thought…” Spencer laughed, a little bitterly. “I thought maybe it was your will.” Derek didn’t know what to say. He really was at a loss for words. Everything he had meant to say was in that letter, which Spencer had already read.

“Then you know how I feel about you.” Derek opted for confidence, with just a touch of defiance. He was daring Spencer to make the next move. Spencer, who had never been particularly daring in Derek’s eyes, made his move. He kissed Derek, so fast Derek didn’t register it until Spencer’s teeth grazed his lower lip, and his hands were already tangled in Spencer’s messy curls. When the kiss finally broke, Spencer flushed from his neck to his ears. “So. It’s probably a little late to ask if you feel the same way.”

“Sorry. I just… I thought I was being obvious for so long, and you just never noticed. I figured I couldn’t get more obvious than that.” Derek reached up to cup Spencer’s cheek, running his thumb over Spencer’s perfect pink lips.

“Je veux faire ça depuis longtemps,” he said, his face scrunched in concentration.

“Vous auriez dû le faire il y a des années,” Spencer replied.

“Yeah, I don’t know what that means.” They stared at each other in affectionate silence and then burst out laughing. It was the same easy warmth they had had between them for the last nine years, only now there was more. The love had not replaced the friendship, it was just another layer. Derek took Spencer’s hand and squeezed, smiling gratefully. “You saved my life, Spencer Reid. Not just because you got me out of that ravine. Not just because you bullied the doctors into giving me all the tests in the book. You saved me because I had something to fight for out in that Nevada desert, and I’ll always owe you for that.”

“You’ll never owe me anything.” Spencer shrugged. “Isn’t that kind of the point?”

“I’m sorry we won’t be able to go to that film festival.”

“Who says?”

“Uh, the plaster casts that’ll be on my legs for the next six to eight weeks?”

“So you’ll go in a wheelchair. You’re taking me out, man, just like you said you would.” Derek hesitated.

“Take me for a walk.”

“Huh?”

“Take me outside. Then we’ll talk.” Spencer shrugged.

“I’ll check with the doctors, but that should be fine. One second.”

Momentarily, they were outside. Across the street from the Nevada hospital, there was a decent park. Spencer pushes Derek in a wheelchair, tossing his hair in the cool winter breeze.

“Are you enjoying being home?” Derek asked.

“Alright, out with it,” Spencer said, ignoring the question. “What’s the deal? Why don’t you want to go?” Derek sighed.

“Come look at me.” Spencer circles around him and crouched so he was at eye level for Derek. “I don’t want to go because it’s in Baltimore.”

“And? What’s wrong with Baltimore? We go to Baltimore for drinks once a week.”

“Yeah. And how do we get to Baltimore?”

“Derek, whatever you’re trying to say, will you just say it?”

“I don’t want to get back in the car!” Derek shouted. “I don’t want to go to Baltimore because I don’t want to drive there.” Spencer stared at him analytically for a moment, then smiled softly and patted Derek’s knee.

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We’ll just watch action movies at your place.”

“And you’re… okay with that?”

“Yeah. I feel like I owe you that much, at least.”

“You’ll never owe me anything.” Derek pulled Spencer down to kiss him quickly, but sweetly. “Isn’t that kind of the point?”

#criminal minds #cm fanfic #cm fan fiction #cm fic #cm #cm angst #moreid #hotchniss #derek morgan #aaron hotchner #spencer reid #emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic

72 notes · View notes

keiscait · 4 years ago

Text

Hi! I just wanted to say from the match-ups I have seen that you are such a great writer! If it’s not too much I was wondering if I could get a living room and bedroom matchup for a male character. If both are too much, feel free to do one whichever one you feel like you can write better. I wanna do this anon so the emoji you can use for me is: <33

Info:

Pronouns: She/Hers

Personality: I am a very goal orientated person and I can become very hard on myself sometimes if I don’t achieve things as well as I wanted to. I tend to be quiet but not shy per say. I do not have trouble talking to people and making friends and I can become very outgoing but in the friend group itself I usually keep to myself. If I am comfortable with you I will make witty remarks and make fun of you in a playful friend banter kinda way but I would like to say I am a good listener so I can get serious real quick. I am really big on trust and I used to trust too easily and now I am a bit more closed off where it is a bit harder for me to trust others.

Relationships: When it comes to relationships, I believe in communication and I haven’t had a big problem with it in the past. I wouldn’t mind a small pda such as hand holding or a small kiss here and there but nothing over the top because you gotta keep the important stuff private ya know. My love language is quality time because I tend to be really busy once school starts and so making effort to see each other even through our busy schedules is really important to keep the relationship healthy.

Hobbies: I believe that you need a good balance between work and play though so some other hobbies I have are painting (acrylic and watercolor), baking, and skateboarding. I also listen to music everyday and watch like an episode before I go to sleep if I have school but binge watch on break. I also try to game a bit too like league, minecraft, and my switch. I also like hiking and runs in the mornings before class because it really clears my head and I used to be on the swim team but I don’t competitively do it anymore.

Bedroom: I believe I would be a switch that leans more submissive. However, I am really cautious to do anything because I need to trust them to be submissive. I would consider myself very open to different kinks and what not and aftercare is a must. I’m not super into degrading because I’m sensitive af. I just would want someone who is observant with me and my body as well as someone who helps me with my insecurities. Once I’m comfortable though I definitely become a brat. Just want someone who would manhandle but still tell me i’m the prettiest girl they’ve ever met hahaha.

Zodiac: Pisces (sun), Cancer (rising), and Leo (moon)

Hogwarts house: Ravenclaw

Future Plans/ Dreams: I am working to become a biomedical engineer one day to help make medical devices to help people. Right now I am leaning towards possibly doing physical therapy and making prosthetics.

Looks: I’m 5’6/5’7 and have a medium build. I am tan kinda like a honey color with black wavy/slightly curly hair that is about at my breast length. My eyes are hazel but mainly light brown and I have pretty big doe like eyes.

Sorry if it’s too much or too little but thank you so much! and I have such respect for writers so keep being you :) HAPPY HOLIDAYS AND STAY SAFE

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

Hello and welcome, my darling! So sorry for the long wait, and thank you SO MUCH for your kind words! (⌒‿⌒)❤️ Let’s get right to it then! ٩(◕‿◕｡)۶

I was reading your description, and I think the person I had in mind for you also fits your bedroom matchup!

Our lovely guest keeping us company in both rooms is...

(Runner up: Ushijima Wakatoshi)

Kageyama is a very complex character. He’s one of the few characters ever who we actually see slips back into his old bad habits every now and then, but is immediately remorseful and shows signs of him knowing better. He’s always striving for progress, and he understands more than others what it’s like to dislike your past self.

- Tobio here is somehow both incredibly observant yet so fricking DENSE

- I imagine that however it is that you two meet, he’ll be super formal at first. It’ll take a little while for a romance to build because he’s not used to opening up, and he’ll need to really trust the person for him to let his walls down

- however, as soon as you guys establish a friendship, he’d be drawn to you and how goal-oriented you are, especially since he is, too

- He’d take interest in you, notice all your little quirks, and would even find himself blushing whenever you playfully tease him

- Problem is, he has no fucking clue why HAHAH

- I love him sm but boy doesn’t know what it is to like someone

- Hinata would try to explain it to him and he’d just be like cr- cru--... c-CRUSH?? ...what is that?

- Man is in desperate need of wingman someone help him

- Anyway, once his friends get Operation: Get Tobio A Girlfriend in motion, he just turns into his pouty blushy self whenever he sees you

- The other boys will probably go overboard that he’ll be forced to take matters into his own hands

- The confession would be a damn mess but in an adorable way

- He’d 100% yell his feelings at you while pouting/blushing

- You’d have to shush him TBH

- shush him with a kiss maybe? that’s a great way to shut him up ( 　･ิω･ิ)

- Kageyama_Tobio.exe stopped responding

- anyway I think he’d just be such a soft, protective boyfriend, especially since you’re kind of quiet

- You two would understand each other so well. He’d protect you and your quiet side, while you would help him be more relatable in order to make friends. It’s also perfect that you two are both goal-oriented, because then you’d be on the same page when it comes to co-dependence/independence. One would understand the other when it comes to pressure, deadlines, and hard work, and you’d just be super supportive of each other all the time

- I think you’re better at communicating than he is, so you may have to inform him a bit on how it should work between the two of you. He’d pick up on this really fast tho so no need to worry! Kags has got you ;)

- Dates would be really productive ones. Study dates, work dates, workout dates; anything that would be beneficial to your improvement

- Early morning hikes with Kags :’( beautiful

- He really appreciates that you’re not big on PDA because that puts a lot less pressure on himself to be someone he’s not. PLUS I imagine he’s the same as you, who really treasures the private moments between the two of you because you’re both so busy

- Once you guys have some private time, he’d take it as an opportunity to release all his pent up energy and emotions. He’d be so needy and clingy when he knows others can’t see

- ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ) also u kno whassup when you guys finally get some private time ( 　･ิω･ิ) ( 　･ิω･ิ)( 　･ิω･ิ)

- I don’t think Kags is the very kinky type. He’d be a dom, but I don’t think the freaky stuff would really appeal to him, especially if it’s degradation, since the man worships you?? He’s just like... why tho

- He may get into some stuff that emphasizes his strength, mostly how he grabs you and handles your body

- Picks up on your sweet spots really quick, and I imagine he can even deduce which parts are sensitive without you having to tell him

- Apologizes if he ever makes you uncomfortable :’( he’d just be SO tender and protective

- I don’t think he knows what aftercare is, or like the specifics of it, but I think despite that, he’d just naturally want to take care of you and check in on you afterwards. He’d ask if you’re okay, if you need anything, if you’re feeling any kind of pain, if there’s anything he can improve on. And he’d definitely scan your body for any bruises.

You were walking home from an exhausting day at work.

There were more than a few setbacks today - an annoying coworker took credit for your hard work, your precisely detailed schedule wasn’t honored by others, and because of this, you weren’t able to have lunch. It was now 6:30PM. The rain poured as you waited at the bus stop. You were famished, soaked, and, quite frankly, so done with this day.

You sighed for what felt like the hundredth time. You were so out of it today that you haven’t had the chance to check on your unread messages. Your boyfriend, Tobio, had left a few missed calls over the past hour, causing some worry. He didn’t usually call, given how busy he was all the time. You texted him first to check in.

You: Everything okay, bub?

K: Yes. Sorry about all the missed calls. Where are you right now?

Y: At the bus stop near my building. Why?

K: Which one?

K: Never mind. I see you

What? You whipped your head left and right, then saw your boyfriend’s figure standing a few meters away, umbrella in hand. He was truly a sight for sore eyes right now - he wasn’t wearing anything special, juts his usual tracksuit, but he was wrapped in a scarf and held a soft expression on his face. It was just the warmth you needed right now. He jogged over to you, closing the umbrella as he made it under the roof.

“Hi love,” you started, “what on earth are you doing here?” A huge weight seems to have been lifted off of you.

He didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you, rubbing your body to give extra warmth. Pulling back, he took off his scarf so that he could wrap it around your neck.

“It’s been raining all day but I noticed you left your umbrella at home. I was hoping to catch you before you left work so that you don’t have to walk in the rain.” You couldn’t help the smile that was erupting through the exhaustion. This felt like an all new Tobio. “I guess I was a little too late, I’m sorry.”

You shook your head. “No, don’t worry about it. Thank you for thinking of me, bub.” You allowed yourself to slump onto him, wrapping your arms around his waist. You felt him loosen up, strong arms making their way around your form. You looked up at him without pulling away. Your big doe eyes stared into his blue ones, totally sinking into each other’s gaze. He planted a small kiss onto your nose. It wasn’t normal for you to be so affectionate outdoors, but right now, it seemed apt. You scrunched up your nose in response.

Had it not been for the honking of the bus, the two of you could’ve cuddled in the rain for much longer, ridding each other of the lousiness of the day.

I hope that was alright with you, darling! Thank you so much for trusting me with your matchup. Hope you’re having a wonderful new year so far!! Please don’t hesitate to sit and have a chat with me anytime ❤️

Thanks for stopping by! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

12 notes · View notes

maraudererasmut · 5 years ago

Text

Black and White (Part XXXI)

"Tell me everything!"

Remus smiled up at Lily, who was sitting across the table, almost vibrating with excitement. Long, delicate fingers were wrapped around a coffee mug and an expectant grin was plastered to her face. The artist rolled his eyes at her and leaned back in his seat. He was planning to take his time with this; he quite enjoyed making Lily antsy with anticipation.

"Well…" he began languidly, giving an indifferent shrug. "James practically shoved us into the office to get us to talk…"

"Yeah, I know that part!" Lily responded with a pout. "Details, Remus! Let me live vicariously through you!"

Remus chuckled at his friend and took a sip of tea.

"Well," he continued after a pregnant pause. "We talked. And then we kissed…"

"I knew it!" Lily shouted with a grin, leaning forward in her seat and jabbing an accusatory finger towards Remus. "I knew something happened in there! You two were making googly eyes at each other all night!"

"I do not make googly eyes, Lily," Remus protested, pretending to be affronted. "I'm a professional."

"Please. There's no point denying it, you're absolutely smitten!"

Remus simply shrugged in response, but he couldn't keep himself from blushing. She was right, after all— Remus was enamoured.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he lied with a smug grin.

"Whatever. The story's not over. Tell me more!"

"Fine!" Remus gave an exaggerated sigh, as if he wasn't loving every single moment of this interrogation. "Well, you guys left the gallery… and… uh…" Remus' mind drifted momentarily to the previous evening, when Sirius had him pressed against the wall. The artist felt his stomach twist in excitement and shook the thought from his mind before his face betrayed him.

"Oooh, yes!" Lily let out a giggle, wiggling her shoulders happily. "James said he interrupted you two having a moment. Was it as bad as he made it sound?"

"Depends on what he told you…"

"He said you two were all over each other!"

Remus felt his cheeks grow hot and ran a hand through his curls.

"I mean… we weren't having sex or anything…" He said sheepishly, earning himself a high-pitched squeal from his friend.

"So you were all over each other? Did he really lift you up against the wall?"

"Anyway," Remus decided that this was an excellent time to continue his story and stop dwelling on details. "After James came into the gallery— "

"Remus!"

" — we decided that talking was probably a good idea."

"Ugh, you're such a spoil sport!"

Remus gave Lily's foot a little kick beneath the table before continuing.

"Anyway. We talked about stuff… about how he was kind of a dick before…"

"Good. He needed to hear that."

"And about… ground rules that needed to be in place if we… wanted this to be a thing…"

"Oh my god! So are you two officially dating now?!"

"Uh… yeah, we are. We're… a couple, I guess?" Remus buried his face in his hands. "It's so weird to say aloud!"

"Oh my god, I'm so happy for you guys! This is amazing! God, Sirius has had a huge crush on you for so long!"

"Wait, what?" Remus blinked at Lily and furrowed his brow. "He has?"

Lily's eyes widened slightly as she realized her mistake.

"Oh… he… didn't tell you? Crap, I shouldn't have said anything…"

"How long?"

"Just ignore me! Pretend I didn't say anything!"

"How long, Lily?!"

"Since the beginning! Like… first time he laid eyes on you, I could see it. He was head over heels!"

"Why didn't you say anything!"

"I do not meddle, Remus!"

"Liar! You're such a meddler!"

Lily let out a giggle, as Remus nudged her with his foot.

"Anyway, what happened next, Remus?! The story's not over!"

The artist shrugged, trying to recall the rest of the evening.

"No, that's about it… he drove me home. We chatted a bit in the car… he called me his boyfriend, which was nice…" Remus couldn't keep the stupid grin off his face as he talked about Sirius. "And… uh… we kissed a bit… and then I left. He was a perfect gentleman. He said something about wanting to go on a date first before anything else…"

"Oh my god, Remus! I can't believe you didn't shag him senseless. You have far more self control than I do!"

"I mean, I dropped hints… I just… I guess he wanted to wait. I don't want to pressure him into anything."

"Oh, trust me. He wants this as badly as you do…"

"Okay, shut up. That's my boyfriend you're talking about."

Lily let out another squeal, garnering looks from other patrons of the cafe. She didn't seem to care, she was so lost in the thrill of Remus' love life.

"Why do you want to hear so much about this, huh?" Remus teased.

"Remus, I've been married for three years, and exclusive with James for six. So forgive me if I'm excited over blossoming romance! I haven't gotten to feel that in so long!"

"But… you and James are happy… right?"

"Of course! That doesn't mean I don't miss it. Yeah, I love James. And yes, I plan to spend the rest of my life with just him, but that's what love turns into: something safe and comfortable. There's something to be said about new love… that thrill of kissing someone for the first time, of experiencing that excitement." She leaned back in her chair and brushed a strand of auburn from her eyes. "Like I said, I'm living vicariously through you."

Remus grinned at his friend.

"Happy to help," he joked, sticking out his tongue. "So long as you don't plan to join us. No offense, but girls just aren't my thing."

It was Lily's turn to kick Remus under the table, and the two of them burst into fits of laughter. Remus savoured the levity of the situation, vaguely recalling how stressed he had been twenty four hours earlier. Was it really possible that so much had changed in such a short amount of time?

“What’s up, Remus?”

The artist cocked his head to the side and looked at his friend.

“What do you mean?”

“You looked lost for a second. Everything okay?”

“Yeah… I was just…thinking to myself.” Remus took a sip of his tea, enjoying the rush of warmth coursing through him. “Things seemed so different this time yesterday…”

“Yeah…” Lily agreed, glancing down at her coffee mug. “I know what you mean.”

“I just… I hope things stay this way, you know? I hope it doesn’t change back just as quickly…”

“I don’t think it will…” Lily said, matter-of-factly. “I don’t know if things will always feel exactly this way, they usually don’t… but finding that happy medium... that balance in between… that’s what love is all about.”

Remus narrowed his eyes and pursed his lips.

“I never said I loved him, Lily.”

“You know what I mean! I mean it’s not all… perfect or horrible. It’s not about being either ecstatic or miserable. There’s… Well, it’s all about those times in between. It’s about being comfortable and about working together through trials and complicated situations.”

Remus shrugged. Lily had a point, he just wasn’t sure if it applied to him.

“I suppose…”

“Look, just…” Lily let out a sigh… “You and Sirius are both so hot-headed. I love you guys I just… I think you should work on not being so… one way or the other. Find that place in the middle and stand your ground there. That’s where you’ll find the most happiness.”

“Place in the middle…” Remus repeated absently, wondering what Lily meant by that. “Got it.”

“Good. Now… let’s get ready to go. We need to see if anything of ours actually sold last night! You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be…” Remus smiled and rose from his seat, gathering his coat and scarf and bundling up. This would be his first time heading to his boyfriend’s art gallery.

199 notes · View notes

radiikill · 5 years ago

Text

Coffee Shop Daydreams Chapter 1

It was around ten in the morning at Tokyo University, and Makoto Makimura was already feeling frustrated. She was looking over various notes she had compiled throughout the last couple of weeks and felt like tearing each of them to shreds. Most of the time she loved her courses, she was majoring in exercise science hoping to become a physical therapist. There were a few classes taken in the last two years of college that made her feel the temptation to drop out, and this was one of them. It was a gen-ed health science course, but the professor was an absolute jerk which ruined everything about the class.

As a result, it felt like she was teaching herself all the concepts.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming towards her table. She was in one of her favorite spots in the library, secluded in a corner hidden away by various bookshelves. Not many people came to this area, so she knew who to expect. She looked up at the man’s face and greeted him with a large smile, shuffling her papers away so he’d have room to sit.

The only saving grace of this class was that she was able to study with one of her closest friends in university, Taiga Saejima. Saejima was three years her senior, though many thought he looked older. He was a large muscular man with a stern face framed by his shoulder-length hair, which made it really easy to be intimidated by him.

They met in another gen-ed course her first year of college. They were paired together for a project, and though she was a little nervous to speak to him the determination to prove herself outweighed everything else. Looking back, Makoto realized that she probably was a stuttering mess. Especially since her Japanese was still fresh, she constantly messed up terms. But, Saejima never got frustrated with her struggles.

Presently, her Japanese has improved and her friendship with Saejima was strong. Many peers were shocked that she was friends with him. Makoto’s friend Joy once told her that she has a habit of attracting rather intimidating guys. Though, despite his imposing exterior, he was actually a very soft person. He was always very kind towards her but was also not afraid to call her out when she needed to be.

“How are you Saejima-kun?” she greeted.

“Not good,” Saejima said, “I fucking hate this class.”

Makoto giggled at the bluntness, agreeing with the sentiment.

“I don’t even know why I need this,” Saejima continued, “I don’t even plan on teaching kids’ science.”

“What did you want to teach again?” Makoto asked as she jotted down more notes.

“History.”

“Sciences are a big part of history,” Makoto reasoned, “you can always go more in-depth if you know some of the concepts.”

“Fuck that,” Saejima replied, “if they want to know the details, they better be paying attention in their other classes.”

Makoto shook her head, giving a joking ‘tsk tsk.’ Even with Saejima’s blunt language, she knew he had a soft spot for kids. If they had inquiries, she knew he’d do his best to answer them. The way he talked about his younger sister proved that enough.

She really enjoyed studying with Saejima. He was smart though it took him more work to understand the concepts. Makoto was quick to understand most science concepts, but she had to put in extra effort in everything else. They were able to help each other make up for their weaknesses. These tutoring sessions were helpful for Saejima to practice his teaching, and it helped Makoto learn how to teach better. She wasn’t confident with her abilities, even when she knew what she was talking about. This resulted in a lot of criticism from Saejima varying from ‘suck it up,’ to ‘speak up’ and some other choice words. It occurred more frequently early on in their friendship. The comments were a little jarring at first, she wasn’t used to people being so blunt with her, but Makoto learned to appreciate the straightforwardness. It was a welcome change from the way people usually treated her. Always either keeping her at a distance or looking at her with obvious disdain.

The way her classes were scheduled allowed her to get back to Kamurocho around 4 pm. If she was able to get a seat, she’d be able to complete any last-minute class readings. Ideally, she tried to get all her work done while she was on campus, but things happen and sometimes she needs to put in more work while she’s home.

Café Alps was one of her favorite places to spend her time. The ambience was nice, and the service was fantastic. It was her favorite place to go after classes and would alternate between ordering tea and coffee. Sometimes she wouldn’t order anything at all, her time would be spent getting ahead on work or just reading.

Other times she’d people watch. Like in the library, her favorite seat in the café was placed in the corner, the perfect place for a view of the café. She didn’t watch anyone specific, but she loved looking at what people were wearing, and sometimes she couldn’t help but eavesdrop on conversations. She tried not to, but sometimes the conversations just pulled her in.

Though, she may have lied when she mentioned that she didn’t watch anyone specific. There was one man that really grabbed her interest. She was certain he grabbed everyone’s interest. He was also a regular at the café, tall and lean, with a loud personality. He had a high-pitched laugh, but his tone seemed to change drastically depending on who he was talking too. Like his personality, his outfits were equally as loud. Most of the time he wore a snakeskin jacket without a shirt on underneath, his tattoos peeking out from his shoulders, though sometimes he would change into other loud patterned shirts. Though, it was obvious that he favored the snakeskin jacket.

She didn’t mind the tacky pattern since if she was being honest with herself, he had a very nice figure. He was slim but muscular, his wide grin splitting the harsh angles of his face whenever he’d hear something particularly funny. If she looked closely, she could see the glint of his eye which seemed to have a mischievous look in it. The left eye was covered with an eyepatch, which she wondered if it was for aesthetics or not. He was very expressive in every single aspect of himself.

He commanded her attention whenever he entered the room, and she only prayed that he didn’t notice her peeking over whatever she was distracting herself with.

‘Was this a crush?’ she wondered to herself. She supposed that it was, but at the same time, she felt like it was just all in good fun. Even if it was a ‘crush’ there was a no way she’d ever talk to the guy. Maybe Joy was right, maybe she was attracted to intimidating men. Because she was sure to most people this man was a little frightening, but she couldn’t help but be curious.

But compared to him, she was so boring. She felt horribly plain.

One day she couldn’t help but listen in on a conversation he was having, with another man. They were sitting across from her so she could get a good glance at his face. He was loud, ranting about how people don’t separate their trash and that they’re the reason our environment is the way it was today. She had to hold back a laugh because it was incredibly endearing that this man was ranting about climate change and personal responsibility.

‘Smart and handsome,’ she thought to herself. Her eyes moved up from her book, wanting to get another glimpse at his face. His eye was focused on the man in front of him, engrossed in whatever conversation they were having. Makoto noticed how his hair, which was cut right above his ears, was starting to fall into his face.

She switched back to looking at his face when she met his eye.

He definitely looked directly at her, and it took all her self-control to not flinch. She glared down at her book trying to control her heart rate and the blood rushing to her face. Subtly, she tried to lower her face and raise the book a little higher. The words were not registering in her brain and she just felt so embarrassed that he saw her staring. She cursed at herself for not being careful, now she looked like a nosey woman.

Okay. Maybe this was a little bit of a crush. Just a little.

Ten in the morning, Makoto was at the library, again. Same location, same clutter of papers surrounding her. Saejima was right across from her, papers also surrounding him, but they were in more cohesive stacks. Makoto held some flashcards close to her face, trying to commit each definition to her memory.

“Does holding those cards so damn close help at all?” Saejima questioned.

Makoto let out a little laugh. She knew Saejima was bound to start getting snappy. Besides being surrounded by papers he was also surrounded by broken pencils that failed under his pressure.

“Maybe you should try it,” Makoto said, “I could tape them to you if you want?”

Saejima scoffed, not in the mood to joke around.

“At this point I’d rather you tape a bomb to me.”

She felt like they had been in the library for forever. They’ve spent the past week studying and she was starting to feel the burnout. Makoto was about to say something until Saejima beat her to it.

“I wanna get the fuck out of here,” he said.

“I do too, but we really gotta get these definitions down,” she sighed, “that was our only goal for the day.”

“How about we go somewhere else then,” he grumbled.

Makoto immediately agreed. A new spot would be refreshing. Saejima and her both lived in Kamurocho, so she suggested they go to Café Alps.

“Isn’t that the place the guy you’re stalking goes to?” Saejima asked.

“Huhhh,” she replied, “I’m not stalking him, I forgot I even told you about that.”

“Sure.” Saejima said, obviously not believing her.

“If I was stalking him, I’d follow him out of the coffee shop, but I’m not.” She was trying her best to not sound defensive; she was also already thinking about how he caught her staring a couple days ago.

Saejima shushed her and told her to get her stuff ready so they could leave. She huffed, frustrated by her friends teasing, trying to get her mind off of the guy at the café.

The day must have had different plans for her though.

She was twisting her pencil between her fingers trying to focus on the different passages, while Saejima was studying her flash cards. The change of environment was nice and the commute to Kamurocho gave them a much-needed break. Overall, she was able to focus relatively well.

Until a boisterous voice snapped her from her book. Eyepatch man came in once again, along with another young man in a white pinstripe suit. She assumed the guy in the suit was the same person he was conversing with about climate change a couple days ago. His face was more stoic than the eyepatch man, if anything he seemed to be slightly annoyed at how close he was getting.

It was amusing. She giggled and elbowed Saejima in the ribs. He glared at her, but she interrupted him before he could say anything.

“That’s the guy,” she whispered, pointing to the guy with the eyepatch. She noticed Saejima’s eyes widen, then a small smirk graced his lips. Then he started to chuckle, and it seemed like it was bound to evolve into full blown laughter.

Makoto was not expecting this reaction at all.

“Look, I get he’s a little weird looking, but you don’t need to laugh at me,” she whispered harshly.

“I just, can’t believe,” he said in between chuckles, “of all people you take interest in.”

“Geez,” she said, “I shouldn’t have told you anything.”

She appreciated that he was keeping his laughing to a reasonable volume, though it still annoyed her. Her face was already getting redder. Once he stopped, he gave her a look she didn’t recognize. It looked as if he was plotting something, and Makoto didn’t like it.

“Why are you looking at me like that,” she huffed.

“You’ll thank me later,” he responded, then he turned towards the guy with the eyepatch and yelled.

“Oi! Majima!”

The guy with the eyepatch, Majima, turned towards them. His eyes met Saejima’s and his mouth split into a wide grin. He gave a wave and started to walk towards them. Makoto felt like she might pass out, not expecting this turn of events at all.

“What the hell,” she whispered to Saejima.

#majimako #majima goro #makoto makimura #saejima taiga #yakuza #ryu ga gotoku

12 notes · View notes

whitewolfbumble · 6 years ago

Text

Expressions of Love - Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: You have the ability of physical attraction- more a curse than a power- that makes you a particular asset to the team. Distancing yourself for your own protection and while personally knowing nothing of love, you thought of yourself as somewhat of an expert on the topic when it came to the members of the team. All except Steve, who you were closest with and for some reason couldn’t keep away from.

Prompt: “I keep drawing you in my sketchbook because I’ve always found you to be beautiful and I’m longing to tell you how I feel, but one day you find it and you have questions”

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Warnings: People get unwantedly handsy/gropey with you and there is low-grade recurring trauma from it (please don’t read if you think that in any way would bother/trigger you!), a fight breaks out, Reader is a bit touch-starved, kinda hurt/comfort?, Protective!Steve is protective,

Word Count: 8k

A/N: Somehow this is my first Steve Rogers x Reader fic??? And it happens to be for @stanclub’s 2.5 Writing Challenge! Hope you enjoy darling!

MY MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAG LIST

_______

“We could use a distraction here,” Nat said lowly in the comm, crouched behind the safety of a large tree some distance away, blasts and gunshots ringing through the air. “This isn’t a cell group at all.”

“It’s a small army out here,” Bucky said, finishing her thought with the ratatat of his machine gun pinging off.

You were already off the quinjet at that point, boots softly crunching down on the thin and hard layer of snow that covered the forest. Without the sun for warmth on this blue-grey morning it wasn’t all too bad out, leaving you in a long-sleeved shirt, trimmed vest, and fingerless gloves that had you blending into the scenery. The elements weren’t what you needed to be hidden away from anyway, but a group of high-tech extremists whose base was a few hundred metres ahead.

The team was already engaging them, the fight starting off easy and as planned, but was fast devolving into something far more precarious and bloody.

“I’m making my way over, just tell me when,” you said.

“Y/N,” Steve responded. “We’ll manage here on our own, I don’t w-”

A yelp rang through the air, jarring and pained. The sound stopped you in your tracks, footsteps faltering. It lasted only a moment.

“Clint’s hit!” Nat said.

If the first sound caused you stop still, that one made you sprint into action, the crunch of footfalls hitting the ground hard as you took off sprinting. The deep of the woods did nothing to impede you, weaving through statuesque trees and bare brambles to get to your companions in the fray.

“It’s bad,” she continued after a moment, voice tight in her throat between your heavy puffs of air as you ran. “We need to get him out of here now.”

You soon saw the team up ahead, their figures muted through the hazy cold of the morning and coming in flashes of colour. Black for Nat and purple for Clint, huddled together and struggling to stand. Black and silver for Bucky, providing cover for the pair as his gun didn’t stop firing and determination didn’t falter a second. The deep blue of Steve, shield whipping out and back to his hand faster than you could track. A flash the red and gold for Tony, flying through the tops of the trees while dodging fiery blasts. Another shot of red was Thor, barreling on top of tanks and throwing down Mjolnir to crumble the metal below his feet.

But the dark green-clad figures of the enemy were everywhere and for every one the Avengers took down, it was like two more rose in their place. Often times on missions you were outmanned- that wasn’t anything new- but this was brutally so, and clearly here you were vastly out-gunned too.

“There aren’t too many, it’ll be fine,” you said between clenched teeth, looking out to the scene in front of you and trying not to let the gritty apprehension you felt settle into your bones. “Call it, Captain. I’ll be ready.”

You saw Steve fighting straight ahead, throwing punches as Tony whipped by him, momentarily clearing the way for him to speak.

“Alright, but we’ll be right here,” he assured, a concerned edge to his voice as there always was when you did this. He turned from his position if only briefly to try and spot you through the trees. For a second his eyes held yours. “We’ve got you, Y/N.”

You nodded as he turned back to the fight, somewhat encouraged by his words even if your hands were shaking just slightly. You sidestepped out from being half-hidden behind a tree trunk and into the small clearing in front of you.

You took several deep slow breaths, purposefully exhaling out your power into the space around you. It filled this morning winter scene, seeking out the enemies the Avengers were fighting against. In your mind you focused on the green-clad men, just focusing and breathing and letting your power trickle free, coming loose from some hidden place inside you.

“Look out team,” you said in warning, voice suddenly calm and smooth, matching the expression on your face as you kept your eyes closed.

Your hands weren’t shaking any more as one raised in front of you, holding it out as though reaching for something.

The gunshots suddenly stopping short was the first sign, and the second was the crunching of snow as innumerable footsteps began to move closer to you, slow and steady.

Cracking open your eyes as you felt a firm and steady handle on the power seeping from you, you saw them coming closer, emerging from the forest like the living dead. Their eyes were transfixed on you singularly and their hearts beat under their chest a mile a minute, a chorus flooding the forest with the sound of drums.

You were “calling” them to you in a sense and it set off a longing for you so deep in their souls and bodies that they lost sight of the fight, each other, and themselves in the process. The only thing they wanted in that moment was you and you alone. It was something primal and all-consuming.

And that was your ability; to have people desire you so deeply it consumed and clouded them from everything but you.

Nat and Clint, with the help of Vision, were well on their way to the quinjet and part of you hummed with ease at that. With the mob of people slowly making their way to you, the rest of the team worked to incapacitate them as fast as they could. Through training and focus your teammates could fight your abilities somewhat- and you did you best not to target them- but it was an unspoken struggle on both sides.

Still, the mass of dark-clad and faceless people kept coming in droves, despite how many the team were getting too. God, you should have started this farther back, you didn’t realize their numbers as they practically emerged from the woodwork to surround you.

You felt a hand grip your shoulder, wretching you back and trying to take hold of you. Without breaking concentration you took hold of their hand, ripping it off of you and half-turning your body to snap their wrist bone, sending the assailant to their knees. With a kick to the head they were out like a light and you were back to the matter at hand.

The facts were that you didn’t have super strength, you weren’t a super spy with super skills, and if you snapped the mob out of this before they got to you, there was no guarantee all of them would actually stop their insatiable want for you. You were trusting the team to incapacitate them in time, and they were trusting you to hold out long enough for them to do so.

Sometimes the longer you held people under your sway the more crazed they got, and sometimes the longer you held them the harder it was to keep it up. It just depended on the individual, and in a mob like this, you had to use a significant amount of your power to keep everyone under the same level of influence. Meaning you were now piling on the power to those who were already crazed enough.

Another hand, this time on your hip, gripped you. Before you could so much as move you saw someone appear from the side and grab you across your waist. Another wrapped their arms around you from behind, trying to rip you away from the other two.

Shit!

“Let go Y/N!” shouted someone, but frantically above the encroaching mob like a sea of dark green in front of you, you couldn’t tell who.

You swung out elbows and used just about every maneuver Clint, Nat, Bucky, and Steve had collectively taught you, but it was too much. Too many hands now began to cover your body, scratching at you and pulling your skin and your clothes and your hair. Your vest was torn in two, one boot ripped off, and you felt the heat of blood cooling fast all over as your skin was torn open under fingernails.

You pulled back your power like a rubber band, hoping that whoever of the mob was left would still be dazed enough for the team to take them down before they could start firing again.

In a rush you were pulled down to the ground with countless people falling on top of you, crushing and stealing the air from your lungs in a bone-rattling thud. You couldn’t breathe- could barely move- as people consumed and overwhelmed every sense you had.

As you felt yourself drowning in skin and pressure that made you want to scream, a sudden hit of cold air entered your lungs. It was the sweetest you had ever tasted, bodies being thrown off of you and the shining glimmer from a shield, a hammer, and a metal suit flashing somewhere through the crushing mob.

A deep navy-clad arm reached down by way of life raft and you scrambled to grip it through the horde covering you. The arm roughly pulled you up and out of the clutches of the mob, and you launched yourself towards the body it was attached too. You gripped the frame of Steve as he held you tightly, holding you firm to his body and sprinting from the mob as though you weighed nothing.

You were jostled hard for a few moments before you were carefully set down against a tree. Eyes closed, you breathed deep, shaking breathes of the cold, clear air. As you did, you felt the feather-light touches of his hands searching across the tattered, barely held together garments that hung from you. It was blissfully so unlike the hard, demanding gropes of countless hands that were just trying to tear you apart.

You wanted to commit that feeling to memory forever, to hold that feeling close to you in the dead of night when you woke up terrified from nightmares and gasping for freedom. You wanted those light, caring, deft fingertips and broad, warm, caressing hands on you always, to shake away every other horrible feeling of unwanted flesh groping yours.

Only after a moment of his studying your frame for serious injury did you open your eyes, looking up to the super soldier. His light blue eyes were a picture of concern, brimming with emotions rippling through his eyes too fast for you to decipher in your spent state. You felt the ghost of his fingers cradle your jaw, the other settling lightly on your hip to steady you.

“Tell me that helped,” you murmured shakily, grabbing onto his arm as though grounding yourself to the safe presence that was your dear friend. “Or at least lie to me if it wasn’t?”

“It helped,” he said, his light blue eyes shining again as though sunlight glinting off the ocean. Now you were aware enough to see a calm and relief spread through his muscles as you spoke and joked, signaling to him you were fine. “I don’t need to lie about that.”

You gripped him tighter, trying to move to get up, screwing your eyes shut against the sharp flashes and throbbing pulses of pain that moved through you.

“No, you’re done here,” he said, words firm and kind, keeping you from moving. When he spoke next it was into the comm. “Y/N’s okay, I’m getting her back to the jet. Let’s get this wrapped up.”

When he picked you up it was both fast and hesitant, and you couldn’t understand why, but then again, you never could. It was always Steve to get you, who pulled you from danger long before your stupidly self-sacrificing nature would allow. Always Steve who gently set you down and created a wall of protection with his own body. Always Steve who lightly touched you, checking for injury with those caressing fingers and under those caring eyes. Always Steve who picked you up and carried you back to the safety of the quinjet or a safehouse or home base.

It was always him, and you knew somewhere deep that it would only be him. Though it remained some unspoken, unacknowledged secret, neither of you would allow anyone else to.

So when he held you to his body, you found your favourite spot against him, head pressed gently into the crook of his neck, pain be damned, and focused on what could anchor you to him in this moment. His scent of sweat and adrenalin and clean soap filled your nose. The only thing you could see was him. The only feeling you focused on was his muscles under you and the cage of his arms, firm but gentle, hesitant but confident.

“I’m alright,” you whispered into his skin. Maybe to steady him, maybe to steady yourself. You didn’t know. “I’m okay… I’m okay.”

The words were punctuated with watery tears building, seeping from your eyes and down his neck. They formed and spilled as you felt this episode added to the black swirl of nightmares ever-churning at the back of your mind. You swallowed, trying to force down the whole thing from your mind but it didn’t work. It never did.

A venom and bitterness sprung up in your mouth as you pushed yourself closer to him, a loathing spreading through as it always did after using your ability.

You hated it. Hated using it. Manipulating people to “love” you and want you? It was sick and twisted and deplorable and you hated it. Far beyond just the injuries it caused you.

But the rational part of your mind reasoned, as it always did, that you saved your team members. It was a mantra that was getting old. They could have called in Bruce or you could have insisted they did, but the casualties would have been so much higher.

So you held on to Steve and he held you together.

______

A week later after the mission was done, the enemy rounded up and shipped to the Raft courtesy of Ross, things had eased back into the usual running of things, as it always did.

Through the afternoon, as was customary, the rest of the team had been getting ready and heading out for their respective Friday night plans. Even Clint was well enough now to head back home for some deserved rest and relaxation.

It left you and Steve at the kitchen island, him reading the newspaper and you sipping a cup of calming tea, while Bucky and Nat were grabbing a bottle of water post-training and pre-date night. The airy space seemed all the brighter and energetic with those two here.

“C’mon, Y/N,” called out Bucky to you, though his eyes remained on Natasha, a small mischievous smile on his face as she finished the water bottle. “I think it’s time you snapped me out of this already.”

Natasha rolled her eyes at the brunette super soldier, not seeming overly bothered as you turned back down to your tea warming your hands.

“I told you Buck,” you said, taking a sip as you watched the flirting couple, a sad tinge of envy nagging at you. “This is definitely not me.”

“Oh? So, you taught Nat your ways, did you?” he teased, following closely behind the redhead as she walked out of the kitchen, hand on her hip and satisfied curve on his lips.

She could lead him to the end of the world and he’d probably follow. You had yet to see the love they had for each other reach a limit yet.

Expressions of love across the team were as varied as the members themselves you had found since joining them.

It was impossible not to see Bucky’s smirk of adoration when he sat back and watched Nat train or kick ass or even just walked by him. She was more apt for soft teases in close quarters (which he was picking up on now too, apparently) or colding demolishing anyone on the battlefield that so much as looked at Bucky in a way she didn’t like. He loved sitting back and watching her be her, while her attitude was one of “I can toy with him but don’t you even think about it”.

Tony was devoted eternally and completely to Pepper. Sometimes his gestures for her sparked teasing discussions about what terrible or inconsiderate thing he had done this time. But guilt was never his motivation with her. His constant striving to do right by her filled his mind and thoughts constantly. He was astounded by her, talking a mile a minute to hide the fact that a hundred of his words would only equal one word spoken from her lips. She, on the other hand, was generally the level-headed, cooling, and calming presence to his genius, scattered life. She brought balance to him: joy when he was upset, calm when he was anxious, and a fiery spirit of challenge when he needed a kick in the pants.

Bruce had Betty, though that was hardly a traditional relationship. Distance was how he showed his love for her, refusing to allow himself even the possibility of hurting her. So not exactly a touchy-feeling situation, for obvious reasons. You hadn’t actually met her yet, only seeing pictures and hearing Bruce’s soft words of praise. A particular demure smile would follow whenever he mentioned her, usually followed by a fond-feeling silence.

Sam had a few relationships in your time here, with his smile wider, jokes lighter, and praises readily given to those around him when he found someone new that caught his eye. It was very easy to tell with him when were was someone new in his life, with joy positively beaming from him the moment he walked into a room.

Clint would talk of his acts of service when he returned back to the compound after seeing his family. How he put new flooring in the dining room because Laura’s sock got caught on a loose floorboard and almost made her trip with the newest family addition in her arms. Or that he took out a linen closet to add another walk-in closet for her, because the thought of asking her to purge some of her clothes didn’t even enter his mind. Anything she needed, he readily gave without her needing to ask.

Vision talked a lot to Wanda. He was constantly trying to find the right words to put a smile on her face or hear that twinkling laugh from her. While Wanda herself was more patient with him than anyone else, a happy gleam in her eyes and wry smile on her lips as Vision talked on (and on… and on…).

Now Steve? Well, you had yet to really pinpoint his defining characteristic yet. You could say he was gentlemanly, fair, considerate, fought endlessly for those he loved. But romantic love? You had yet to really see him in love or even in moderate like yet. Even with Natasha and the others offering up possible options for company on a Friday night, similar as they did with you. And like you, he always declined.

It sat like a stone brick in your stomach, thinking of the day when he would give in and say yes. To know someone else would get those light touches or breathe him in or spend your Friday night together as you had been, eating and talking and watching movies together.

But you had made it another week with him politely declining the offer for a blind date. Thank goodness. So once Nat and Bucky were out of the kitchen and the coast was clear, you hopped off your stool, walking around to roll up your sleeves and washed your hands.

“What’re we feeling tonight?” you asked, happily settling into the quiet of the evening and your usual Friday night routine with the only other single member of the team.

“Last week was fajitas?” Steve asked, setting down the paper mirroring your movements, sliding up beside you and washing his hands at the same time.

As usual, you felt the brush of his hip against yours. You smiled to yourself, happier than you had been in a week that he was still here with you and not off on some date with some woman.

“Yeah, I think we have chicken left in the freezer? I can quick thaw that and maybe we have something to make a casserole?”

Steve turned to the cupboard while you turned to the freezer, the two of you moving like a well-oiled machine. You pulled the chicken out of the freezer, popping it in the microwave while Steve rummaged through the cans and dry goods. You could picture the look slight concentration on his face and the bright blue of his eyes.

“Hmm, cream of broccoli?” he asked, throwing a can lightly over his shoulder.

You smiled, holding back a laugh as you caught it deftly, while the other one that immediately followed wasn’t so graceful.

“You’re getting good at that,” he noted, glancing your way with that winning grin of his as he pulled out a can opener.

“Well, this is what, the twenty-sixth Friday in a row?” Steve saddled up to you again, arm brushing against yours as he started cracking open those cans. Maybe you shouldn’t feel so contented by the feel of him so close, but he was about the only one you’d let touch you outside of hand-to-hand combat training…. And even then, that was still mostly only Steve, actually. “I should be the best at this point.”

“Rice is on the counter,” he said, nodding back behind him with his grin only increasing.

“And I heave a big sigh of relief you didn’t throw that,” you remarked cheekily, bumping your shoulder on his arm as you went to put on the rice.

You could almost sense the eye roll and feel the warmth of his smile.

“I’ll never be able to apologize enough for that one, huh.”

“Considering that was the fourth Friday? Probably not.”

And so it continued as it always did, with easy grins, light brushes of skin on skin, friendly chatter with your… well, you were sure what to call Steve, really.

“Teammate” was too distant a word. He might be your friend, but he probably wasn’t your best friend, since he had Bucky. Can you be best friends with someone if they weren’t best friends with you? You’d ask yourself this before, with still no real definitive answer.

Relationships weren’t exactly your forté, considering you had to distance yourself from anyone and everyone, and certainly all those from your past. When your power was developing, it had been out of necessity. You weren’t in control of powers when it first started developing when you were a young teenager. Suddenly having to fight or flee became your life as the people around you were drawn to you beyond their control or yours.

It had been a dark time in your life. You had forced yourself to run away, to be alone, to not risk getting close to anyone. Even after you did have more control over your abilities, there was a distance you kept from those around you. Because what if you slipped up and you couldn’t get away?

But light came back to your life once you found the Avengers. And things got every brighter when you got closer to Steve. When you found yourself able to touch another person again without fear. When you trusted him to not only be able to protect himself from you but protect you from others. When you found yourself able to have him touch you. When you started living for those brief moments.

So while learning everything you could about Sam’s new girl (an old friend from the military days) both of you were too wrapped up in conversation to notice his arm up against yours on the island counter. That little bit of warmth from his skin and the cooling calm of those blue eyes filled you with ease and relaxed each and every muscle down to your toes.

You both were also too wrapped up in each other that you didn’t remember the casserole until it was far, far too late.

Your face quirked, eyebrows pulled together and chin lifted up a bit. You looked around the kitchen, sensing something off but not quite able to pinpoint what. Steve lightly took your hand, eyes searching yours for a moment.

“Is something... burning?” you asked, turning back to him.

Realization hit you both at once, Steve rolling his eyes at his lack of awareness and you both shot off your stools at the same time, sprinting around the island towards the oven.

The moment Steve opened up the oven a plume of smoke billowed out and took over the whole kitchen, the grey swirls pooling in a massive cloud at the ceiling. Both of you were reduced to coughs and sputters, him looking a bit amused and you looking rather abysmal. You were starving at this point, your stomach growling at the exact moment Steve reached in and gingerly pulled out the almost comically blackened casserole.

Not a moment later, the fire alarm started beeping at its most intrusive, ear-shattering pitch.

Both of you took to fanning the room with tea towels, still sputtering in the grey haze though this was a bit of a lost cause and you both knew it.

“It’s like the fourth Friday all over again,” he said loudly over the alarm.

“I’m surprised after the disaster of that night we still kept doing this,” you pointed out, earning a smirk from him. “Alright Captain, call it.”

His smile stayed, looking rather silly with his large muscled body fanning the air with a tiny tea towel to just about no avail.

“Team decision,” he said as his eyebrows pulled together with the same mock seriousness as you, though he couldn’t manage to dash the smile from his face. “Pizza or Thai?”

“Pizza,” you nodded firmly though your eyes began to burn a bit. “You stay and clean, and I’ll pick it up?”

“Affirmative,” he agreed, coughing as he waved smoke in front of his face. You grabbed your sweater slung on the back of the stool and dashed out, smiling as you left the poor thing to this disaster.

_______

You announced yourself by way of a slamming door and hard footsteps booming through the compound. Steve knew something was wrong before you even walked in, hearing how angry and upset you were before you entered the cleaned and much less smoky kitchen.

You blew into the white open space, your eyes red and watery and mouth set into a hard, angry line.

“What is it?” he asked before catching a good look at you. Once he did see the state you were in his tone turned into the same one he had on missions: firmer and deeper. “Y/N, what happened? Are you alright?”

You were already bee-lining right for him but he was too quick and met you halfway, coming right up to you with concern flashing hard and deep in his eyes. He grabbed the pizza boxes from your hands and set them blindly down on the kitchen island behind him, eyes flitting between yours.

“Some assholes at the pizza place,” you commented, running your hand through your hair, anxiety still rocking through you. “Some upstate frat boys here for the weekend, thinking they’re the irresistible ones and I’m some dumb piece of ass that likes being threatened and grabbed.”

“What did they do?” It was less a question and more a threat of action from the soldier. His bright blue eyes became dark and stormy instantly and you saw his fists clench and unclench beside him.

You swallowed down the lump in your throat (unsuccessfully) and before you leaned into the man in front of you, seeking out your favourite spot between his shoulder and neck, you moved away. You passed the brick house of a man, heading for the fridge and one of Clint’s beers. You grabbed two, both for you.

“It’s fine Steve,” you said, still upset and eyes still a puffy, watery mess. “I’m alright.”

You took a swig of the beer, feeling that warm presence walking up behind you. You turned, leaning back against the edge of the counter and tried to keep those burning tears from spilling over.

“I’m okay,” you said once you put down the beer on the counter. It didn’t sound all too convincing though, and you looked up to Steve, wondering if for one he believed it.

You had to admit that look in his eyes, though intense, was familiar and comforting. You were close enough to breathe in that clean smell of his. Feel the pleasant heat radiating off of him. Compounded with your racing heart and longing to feel him and the security he gave, you gave in.

Sighing, you held your elbows and leaned forward, resting your forehead against Steve’s chest.

“I’m okay.”

You felt his hands come up your back, hovering above the thin fabric of your shirt before connecting, holding you lightly, then closely. He wrapped his arms around you, so familiar and comforting. The both of you moved together, body pressing together out of habit and clicking together like puzzle pieces. You felt his fingers thread lightly through the ends of your hair, his other hand splayed out warmly, helping to ease the light shivering he felt moving through your spine.

When he spoke it was soft, leaning down to your ear, that soothing protective tone washing through you.

“Y/N,” he said, low and smooth. “You left with a sweater on… Where is it?”

You screwed your eyes shut tighter, moving up to that spot between his shoulder and neck, breathing him in deeply.

“Those guys… It wasn’t even that bad,” you said, though it wasn’t too convincing and it wasn’t even the point. The act itself was shocking and unwelcome, but it was the trauma it brought up was the worst of it. It always was. “They just- well, one of them grabbed my arm. He wouldn’t let go and the other just wouldn’t back off. He practically pinned me against the counter… so I just punched him. Hard. Then zipped off my sweater so the other guy would let go and got out of there.”

Steve didn’t say anything for a moment, and usually he wasn’t at a loss for words. He was always ready to give hard and motivating speech when things got rough, or kind word to ease things over, or some snappy, biting remark to the enemy.

“Steve?” you swallowed, a feeling of guilt mixing in with the other twisting in your chest.

When he didn’t respond you felt your shoulders slag, sadness hitting you.

“I know, I’m an Avenger,” you rambled quickly, trying to fill the silence since he wouldn’t. You didn’t even look up to see what those blue eyes would tell you. “I know I shouldn’t have just punched the guy; I should have gotten out without going violent on him. But he wasn’t letting go and he was too close and you know I can’t handle that from anyone but you and yes I know how to get out of a hold like that but I wasn’t thinking I was just hurting and I’m sorry, alright?”

Your chest heaved against his, wrought with emotions and words tumbling too fast from our mouth to breathe.

“This isn’t your fault, Y/N,” Steve started, tone controlled but edged with something upset. Something hurting. You felt it. You knew that feeling. “I’m just angry. At them, that they touched you. I’m angry I wasn’t there to do something about it. I should have been there.”

At that he looked down to you but you didn’t meet his gaze, just wrapped your arms around his neck, breathing him in again.

“It’s just pizza,” you said after a moment, the shivering having stopped and emotions settling little by little at his words. “And it’s not that big a deal, I’m just… Well, I’m just me. I should expect this.”

“Don’t do that,” he said, firm tone coming out again as his head rested against yours. “This wasn’t you overreacting and it wasn’t your fault, Y/N.”

“Okay, but only if you don’t blame yourself for it either.”

You looked up then, seeing a twist to his lips that wasn’t quite a smile but certainly was confirmation of your assumption he’d somehow feel guilty over this. Although it wasn’t exactly accurate to say, still, leave it to Steve to feel upset over staying behind to clean up rather than getting pizza.

“No promises,” was his final verdict.

You closed your eyes, settling back into him. You probably should have backed away. You should have given him maybe what would have been a hollow but encouraging smile, something to show you were in fact okay. You would then make some remark about the pizza getting cold and grab some plates. The two of you would then sit at the kitchen, eating the cooled pizza and maybe eventually chatting. Maybe your arm would touch his again or your foot would move next to his or something. Neither of you would mention it, and that would be okay.

But you didn’t. You stayed, coiled up and wrapped up in him as you had done at the end of missions. But this time there had been no mission and there was no threat, no injury, no need for Steve to be the leader and take care of you like this. And yet there you were.

You wanted to say something to him, maybe to justify this connection or even try to make this last longer, but you couldn’t think of the words. Whatever Steve was thinking, maybe he couldn’t think of the words either.

He bent down a little, a noise of displeasure squeaking out of your throat without you meaning to, before his arm went to the top of your thighs, hoisting you up and carrying you in his arms. Your eyes went a bit wide but you certainly didn’t want to fight it or ask why and jinx it.

Steve paused a moment, handing you the opened beer bottle from the counter before you slowly took it from him. He then walked over to the edge of the counter and picked up pizza boxes with his free hand. He carried you in one arm and held your dinner in the other, as though neither weighed a thing. Admittedly, the pizza didn’t, but you were a different story.

Regardless you let the protest out of common decorum die in your throat as he walked you through the compound and to his room. You even reached out and opened the door as you got there.

Once the pair of your entered, you were greeted with the faintest smell that was Steve: sweat and soap and comfort. It was similar in style and configuration as most other bedrooms there were: a large bed on one wall with a door to the bathroom or closet on either side, and a couch, small table, and TV on the other half of the room. You had been Steve’s room a number of times- at least twenty-six times in fact- as was the second part to your usual Friday tradition.

Yes, Steve had a love for training and fitness and leading and strategizing. But the quieter side to him love the contemplation of certain activities like reading, or visiting museums, or listening to music. So along those lines the two of you began to watch films together on Fridays after dinner, picking one popular or critically acclaimed movie from each year since he went under the ice. It brought the modern world into view for him, caught him up perhaps on some things he missed, and you weren’t exactly a gym-buff yourself so this was a nice compromise for you too.

The two of you had just hit the seventies.

The pizza boxes hit the little coffee table with a satisfied thunk, but you were lowered to the couch a lot softer and certainly with more care. Steve sat with you, still holding on, though his grip loosened enough for you to lean back a little, showing him a soft smile.

There was a long moment where he didn’t move and neither did you. A thought was on the tip of Steve’s tongue, heavy and intent. But before he spoke his expression and tone shifted, coming lighter than you expected.

“Sam let me borrow tonight’s movie; want to eat and watch?” he said instead, giving you the feeling that it wasn’t what he had wanted to say.

“Sure,” you nodded, and it made you wondered if you have ever actually told him “no” before…

Steve got up with a smile, apparently choosing to put aside whatever it was on his mind and what had happened to you tonight. Of that last one you were thankful. You wanted him and pizza and a movie, the reality of everything else be damned.

“I thought Sam had given it to me,” he said, rummaging through the draw of the TV stand. “I thought I brought it back here…”

“Maybe he took it back?”

“Maybe,” he said, mulling it over but not convinced. “He gave it to me in the lounge. It might still be there, I’ll be right back.”

You watched him leave, debating as soon as he left whether to grab a slice of pizza. But your appetite wasn’t back yet really. Instead you brought your legs up to your chest, looking around the familiar room and waited.

Usually you would get into some comfy sweatpants post-dinner in your room, letting Steve clean up any unmentionables you doubted he actually left around his space. As you glanced around the room, that assumption seemed correct. Everything was tidy and neat, clearly the days in the army sticking with him as you had noted on occasion before.

After a minute you got up, spotting something on the nightstand that looked like a DVD case. It was tucked half under a large leather-bound book.

“I think I got it, Steve,” you shouted out, him probably not hearing you. You were about to call out again, but that leather book caught your eye. In all your time here, you couldn’t remember seeing it before.

Curiosity winning over any degree of boundaries, you put the DVD down and picked the book up.

You realized once you opened it that it was a sketchbook.

You flipped through wondering if this was something from his old days that Tony was able to dig up for him, but you noticed a drawing of the Avengers building, then the view of the lake from the compound. You were a bit surprised, considering how full this sketchbook seemed though never once had you spotted Steve sketching.

It was beautiful, Steve’s hands deft at bringing intricate details alive on the page. There were landscapes and architecture, all poised and full of life and realism, shadow and light. It was simply stunning.

But you frowned when you saw one of you.

It’s not that it wasn’t beautiful because it was, wonderfully so, and certainly a more flattering light than you thought you deserved. But you didn’t think you were worth taking up a space in a book so masterfully done as this was.

Flipping through you saw another one, this time you were holding a cup of coffee and looking out the kitchen window- nothing particularly special about it to note in a sketchbook- but the look you had was serene and joyful.

The next page was you asleep on the couch from this room.

The next was you again, this time with your eyes coloured in. It was the only colour in the book so far, everything else in charcoal grey.

You flipped the page over, and there you were, the colour in your eyes again but this time a better match than the last one.

As you turned page after page, they were all of you, the colour of your eyes the only colour on each page. The hues shifted slightly and changed as it went, but eventually you realized that he had been experimenting with it. Steve was clearly eventually able to find the exact right shade and intensity, and as you went through page after page after page, you saw that colour gleaming right off the page at you.

Steve had walked in so quietly you hadn’t realized, until a bit breathlessly you looked up, your eyes locked to his unreadable ones.

You held the book, not speaking for a moment as you looked at him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” you said, voice airy and shocked.

“The sketches they aren’t-” he began, not able to find the right words. “The sketches are just… I was just…”

“No, Steve,” you said quietly, knowing from the care and detail and sheer volume this wasn’t an exercise in practicing drawing a figure. These sketches spoke a thousand words and more. “Why didn’t you tell me about- about how you felt about me?”

Silence filled the room, getting heavier as his skin on his cheeks tinged redder.

Steve wasn’t one to back down from a confrontation or fight, and though this was neither, he didn’t back down now. It took a moment, but his gaze was steady as was his voice.

“I know you, Y/N,” he started. “I didn’t want to push you to something you didn’t want, and I didn’t want to lose you because of it. I couldn’t- I won’t be able to handle that.”

“You can handle anything,” you whispered, swallowing as you tried to move from shock to something useful in forming a proper thought.

“Not that,” he stated.

The words rung through the room clear and honest, and it made your lungs fill and deplete in rapid succession.

“I’ve never…” you spoke, words not coming strong enough for you to hear, so you tried again. “I’ve never done this before? I mean, I don’t…”

You felt your voice falter again and a pain hit in your chest. You had no doubt Steve could see it on your face, stepping closer reflexively before making himself stop short of reaching you, landing halfway through the room. Again, you saw emotions rippling through him too fast for you to decipher.

“I’ve never known if anything was- was real I guess,” you tried again. “How could I. And when I… the couple times I’ve told people about what I can do when I thought they genuinely... they’d think I was making this feel that way and… Well, it never went over well.”

“What I feel?” Steve started, leaning in with his head tilted just so to catch your eye. “That’s real, Y/N.”

He paused, again, letting those words sink into the space between you.

“This isn’t you manipulating me or making me feel this way,” he said before there was a tug at the corner of his mouth. “And I don’t have any real experience with this either.”

You nodded, crossing your arms in what you hoped was a casual way, trying to play this off while you were holding on the sketchbook with white knuckles. Because you weren’t convinced. You didn’t think there was a way you could be.

“This isn’t just attraction,” he said softly, in that way of his you liked so much. “This is love, Y/N.”

That stilled you where you stood, the words holding you motionless. You didn’t respond but simply stood there. Slowly Steve walked forward, stopping when he was toe-to-toe with you. Carefully he took the book from your hand, casting it aside on the bed.

You waited as his hands reach out, hovering just above your arms. You waited for him to connect his skin to yours, soft and warm and perfect. You waited for him to press that feather-light touch into you that made you feel and want and need.

But it didn’t come.

Steve went as far as dared, hovering just above your skin, so close and yet not close enough. He pushed as far as he could, and this was his limit.

His eyes were down, caught up in a thought he didn’t share before he snapped back to you with a gentle look on his face.

“It’s okay, Y/N,” he said, doing his best to convince you of words that were somehow false. He was a bad liar and you saw through it to the cutting pain underneath. “It’s okay that you don’t… That you don’t feel the same. I’ll be okay. I’m okay.”

Those were the words you tried to use to convince him that you were okay. But it was a lie each and every time. And just like you did now, Steve always saw through those words. He didn’t challenge them though. Not once. He never challenged you, actually. The others he had no qualms about laying down the law when it needed to be done, but you realized never with you.

He used actions with you. Slow and steady and soothing. He held you or protected you or removed you, taking you somewhere where you could be at peace, be tranquil, be alone with him. He never tried to use those words against you or make you believe otherwise. He let you be, and he asked wordlessly that you let him be with you too.

And if he used action to combat those words, so you would too.

You felt your chest tighten and throat constrict, but you let it happen. You felt your mind pull up every bad experience, every horrible touch, every infliction of physical pain and you let it fall away. You stopped holding yourself back from this- from him- and put your hands on his chest.

You felt his eyes watch every movement with biting intensity, waiting and not hoping- doing anything but hoping- as you slowly leaned in. You tilted your head up to him, not seeing those quick flashes of heat and feeling behind that beautiful blue. Your eyes were on his lips, closing as softly as your lips touched his.

It was the briefest of connection, a simple brush of your skin to his. But it made your heart jump and electricity fill your veins. It made his breath come rapid and warm across your mouth. It made him tense his muscles and close his eyes, savouring that feel of your kiss as though it would be the last.

You swallowed, hands at his chest, gripping his shirt between your fingers. You tried not to shake but you did. You tried not to let the yelling in your head say that this wasn’t real have a voice, but it did. All the same, you carefully closed the distance again, gently capturing his lips with yours.

The second kiss was different. It was a breath of fresh, clean air and an exhale of relief. It wasn’t a test or a question or a hesitant challenge. It was a choice. Something that was wanted and yearned for.

You felt that heat Steve radiated increase tenfold as his lips cautiously then longingly moved against yours. You felt him, hands touching your arms then gliding along your back, try to hold back from deepening the kiss. From letting the unspoken, untended love for the past months overtake you both and drown you in the affection you wanted, but weren’t ready for.

All the same, your hands moved up across his chest and wrapped around him, pulling through his hair as he did the same to you. You had a hold on him as much as he had on you, and it was as quiet and compassionate as his embraces have always been. How could you not have known? How could not have seen and felt his love for all this time?

As you released your lips from his, settling into that space between his shoulder and neck, you went through every moment you had shared. For the first time you saw clearly ever gesture and expression of soft adoration.

With him you were safe. With him you were yourself and he could be his. With him you were happy and whole and calm and alive. And now could see and feel that love expressed in every touch, every movement, every glance, every word, every action, every sketch.

The nightmares that lived at the back of your mind didn’t stop. The pain of your power didn’t fade. Your history and past were unaltered and undiminished.

But that didn’t compare to the truth of this moment. The truth being that with him you were wholly and truly loved.

_______

A/N: This got away from me so hard I’m so sorry for the length of this novel.

Permanent Tag List: @dontpanc, @smodvocate, @bunsterjonez, @buckybonky, @marveloustrashpanda, @hangirl93, @captainrogerrsbeard, @friendly-neighborhood-lich-queen, @thisgirllikeme, @jjsoccer11, @innerpandablizzard-blog, @fanatic-fanfic, @mdgrdians, @christinky, @universal-death-of-a-fangirl, @cauraphernelia, @ailynalonso15, @cassiopeia-barrow, @1elboomdemsechevarria, @cameronskywalker, @rogrsnbarnes, @verygraphicink, @onlyanothersocialcasualty, @lisalisa007, @james-bucks, @zannemes, @msruchita, @breezy1415, @marisabay, @honeyyhuggs, @marvelqxeen

298 notes · View notes

s4dboiarchives · 5 years ago

Text

the people of 2019.

For the struggling heart thrown in the middle of a bustling city with no particular idea on how to survive, July breathes for you. The promise of a land filled with overflowing milk and honey but all that was received were buckets of sand and piles of rocks.

You came to the city with a hopeful heart and a duffel bag full of star studded dreams. You were told that the city is where dreamers come to live; this is where a dreamer’s journey begins. But I guess people didn’t want to tell that the city is also where you come to forget – identity. This city will strip you of your being and you begin to forget what you like – mirrors will not display a reflection, rather, someone you don’t remember or someone who’s oddly familiar, either way, it’s not you. This reflection will feel like flashbacks of the past staring right at you but you can’t seem to grasp the idea of who this person is. The city will wear you down like your favourite denim pants or your most worn Chuck Taylor’s – raw.

The city is where you will experience getting caught in crossfire – you versus you. Mismatching ideals and colliding thoughts. Your toughest critic will always be you and let me just say, nothing will be enough for you. This is a series of gunshot wounds that go right through the heart, and when you look for the shooter, you will realize that the gun was always in your hand.

August is one too many orders of café Americano at a local coffee shop for a burgeoning writer wanting to bleed out more words – wanting to prove something. Your mom phones you to ask how you’re doing and your dad says hello at the same time. You tell them about how this process is turning out to be harder than expected and the pressure feels like worlds upon worlds stacked on your shoulders – they are speechless, but that’s alright you know that they try to care, at least they try.

You prop yourself up once more and grab that pen and paper – write, like your life depended on it. One day, you hope everything will just fall into place, that this will all just make sense.

September is for the girl who breathes out smoke rings and wannabe halos. You still have your heart upon your sleeve – don’t worry, it will be okay. The bitter sting of heartbreak is a reminder that you are alive and the tears are assurance that you are still human despite the inhumanity amongst us.

This is for the lingering moments you cannot leave behind too easily – hands held, foreheads touching, and her lips. The acrid smell of rum attached to her breath but oh how you would love to bask in it again – one more, one more. Another rounds of lips locked, slurred conversations, and hazy looks. You think, “I hope she remembers; I hope she knows my name," but you're sure enough that she won’t, that this will all be faded in the morning, or probably right after. But right now, this is yours – claim it. The burning cigarette in your hand and heat from her body – feel it. The night is younger than you are, so live in this puerile moment – hold it the way your hands would want to grasp her being. Remember it the way you crave for her tongue dancing on your salty skin – flesh on flesh. Little girl, this is yours.

Cheers to the galleries and museums that have chanced upon the soles of your feet, to the busy market street and busy market vendors that has witnessed your scraped knees and wrong directions, and to the mugs of draft beer and one too many cigarettes that have kissed your unholy lips – October.

This is for the young boy with shaggy hair and grandfather glasses that managed to pull you miles away from home to walk down the halls of a musty gallery with old paintings that speak a language more familiar than you think. Listen to the eyes, they’re talking. Don’t whisper to the walls, they might be listening.

Young boy, so handsome yet naïve, I wonder why you chose to ignore the warning signs? I wonder if the blaring alarms were not enough to tell you that destruction was ahead. This was not your average girl fitted for the average boy – chaos. But then again, there is a certain beauty to this unorganized flurry of person. Young boy, I wonder what you see?

This is for the moments spent getting lost in old china town under the gaze of broad daylight – asphalt worn shoes and dusty fingertips. Let me hold your hand as our feet navigate us through this untimely maze; do not let go. Market streets and vendor eyes are watching, they silently tell us: “get out,” that we do not belong here; more reason to not be careful, more reason to wake the sleeping spirits of this old temple.

We will raise a revolution – allow me to usher you into the twenty first century: girls kiss girls and boys do the same with boys. This tongue has danced with many and written words on temporarily owned skin. These hands are soiled with prints from yesterday’s lover and are preparing to be held by a new one tonight. We will shake old china town with magnitudes that will make your knees weak. So, allow me to wear this baseball cap like the tiara you want it to be but will never be. I will smudge the red lipstick you want me to my paint on my lips and instead, streak them on my cheeks like war paint because this is war.

Let me spill your mugs of draft beer and crush your cigarettes because this is our turn. We will raise a revolution that will echo through the ages – you wonder why we do this. You wonder what we see.

November is a rollercoaster ride of emotions; up and down the belly of the beast we call life. This is for the girls who tried more than once, more than twice. This is for the girls who put their hearts on their sleeves and allowed the world to feel each beat – loud and clear. I see the effort marked on your palms and the sweat beading on your forehead – you have tried fixing the unfixable. My dear, let me tell you, not everything that’s broken needs to be fixed – shattered glass shines brighter than its whole. Wash your hands, wipe your tears, you have done well.

This is for the tiger stripes, bruised knuckles, and puddles of blood in pooling beneath your feet – I wonder if you knew that was blood? Or, were you too busy admiring the colour red? Beautiful, isn’t it? The stains on the bathroom floor would like to agree, they’d like to thank you for the splash of colour. Grime and plaster white were getting too old.

The coils of rope in the corner of your room would also like to say thank you; the feel of your skin on the abaca twine was home – you are home. They have never been held like that – fervent want exceeded by need. They thank you for needing them. They would like to say they miss you, that your skin is something they crave for, after all, you did spend a bit of time contemplating when you’d use the pretty necklace you forged them to be.

This is for you. Thank you for the vulnerability, not many are proud to talk about it, not many are proud to show. Thank you for the stories you’ve planted on your arm; I’m sure you don’t see the blooming flowers, so allow me to tell you that they are there – roses, daisies, and pink peonies. I will marvel at the garden you have made from your flesh and revel in the seeds budding in your heart. My dear, not everyone can do what you did. Rest – you have done well.

December is for the boy who slept with his jacket still on, wet hair, and shoes caked with mud – adventure. He will wake up to blurry memories and trying to remember what happened last night. What was her name? Where was I? What did we do? Your face turns a familiar colour of pink when it finally hits you, “Ah, yes.” Another beautiful story has been written. In the same manner, you lay on your bed, jacket, already dried hair, same shoes, and a smile.

It is slow mornings accompanied with a cup of hot coffee, two creams and two sugars, for the province girl who has just who has spent the last six months journeying through the iron clad and concrete city of the north. It is steam fogging up your glasses while you watch the two creams swirl into a small galaxy of milky brown while you sink deeper in your duyan. You insert through the casual conversations and laugh at the thought of some – home. This is what actual rest feels like, chirping birds and the sway of giant trees among you, not four corners of a barely filled smaller than small room and screaming cars outside your window. This is more than just the coffee, you think. This is more than just the conversations. You feel the breeze through your hair and warm sunlight glazes your cheeks with a soft yellow – my dear, the universe agrees.

This is for you – for everyone who has struggled through the year but has somehow managed to carry their burdens and finally lay it down. Rest, you have done well.

This is for you – the ones still carrying their burdens and is wondering when it’s all going to end or if it will ever end. You have been numbed by the circumstances.

This is for you – for the people who didn’t make it through. The world pushed you to your limits but do not worry, despite the pain, we will try to understand. You are made of stardust and galaxies that are bigger than what your body can handle; you were not built for this physicality.

We have been bruised, bloodied, and broken – this is part of us but do not begin to believe that this defines us because this is the world’s doing; this is what happens when world doesn’t understand who it’s dealing with. But do not worry, do not fret, we are meant for this world. We now lay to sleep the yesterday of good and bad which is 2019 and open our eyes to the endless possibilities and chances of the tomorrow we call 2020.

This is the beginning of our year, cheers to you!

3 notes · View notes