#forever and always thinking about how there Was No Other Way

[freyadragonlord]

Recently I’ve been thinking about the different types of love languages in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, The S-Classes That I Raised, and Lout of the Count’s Family…

Not to say that each of the stories describes only one single kind of love language; they are, after all, all novels that focus on Found Family, with many different types of relationships between characters that express their love for each other in as many different ways.

Yet, I’ve noticed how at the core of each of these three stories there is one specific act of love that recurs more than others, and that becomes the true Theme each novel revolves around.

In Lout of the Count’s Family, the main love language is providing food and a home.

“Home” is such an important concept in LCF that Cale collects houses like they were pokemon cards. The source of his trauma when he was a child as Kim Roksu was that he was not given sufficient food, and that where he lived was not truly a shelter where he could feel safe, just a place he was trapped in.

And I don’t think there are ever more than 2 chapters in a row without a character offering food to others, or asking if they’re hungry, if they’ve eaten, why haven’t you eaten, here have some apple pie!!

Cale uses his newfound money and power to make sure his loved ones are provided for. That’s how he adopts bonds with most of his new family.

The first thing Raon does after he’s freed from the prison he’s been trapped in all his life, is to leave food for this hopelessly weak human.

Choi Han, who has lived alone in a dangerous forest for decades, would do anything to protect his home.

The Crown Prince, who has been isolated and untrusting of everyone ever since his mother died, makes sure to always have cookies in his bedroom in case guests “break in” for a visit at any time of the day or the night.

I love you, you’ll never be hungry again. I love you, my home is your home.

In The S-Classes That I Raised, the main love language is words.

Yoojin’s powers are literally activated by telling people “I love you”. Because all he ever wanted was to say “I love you” to his brother one last time.

Because the tragedy that starts the story happens because Yoohyun loved and protected his hyung in secret for years. Silence creates misunderstandings, it creates distance, it leads to loss.

Loving someone isn’t enough, tell them! Reassure them. Remember what they say, because their words are important!!

Ever since the regression, Yoojin always let people know when he loves them and appreciates them. “You’re perfect, you’re cute, you’re so talented, you’re so handsome, you are loved.”

And as the novel progresses, whenever Yoojin is in pain, or doesn’t know what to do, he turns to Sung Hyunje because he needs to be reassured, he needs to know he did well, he needs to hear he is still important to the people he loves.

I love you, please know that I love you! I love you, please tell me you love me back.

And finally, in Omniscient Reader’s Viewpoint, the main love language is time.

Time is one of the greatest sources of horrors in ORV. Eternities upon eternities of suffering, being trapped for ages in the same, hopeless loop, wishing for everything to just stop.

And yet, time is also the greatest gift characters give to each other.

Because the wounds Dokja suffered as a child, and then again and again through his whole life…. They need time to heal. They need so much time. They will probably take forever.

So let them take forever.

Despite how much pain and worry he causes his companions by giving up on himself over and over again, his companions never give up on him. And he doesn’t understand why!! He doesn’t think he’s worth it. But it’s not his choice, it’s theirs. And they will go through as many tries, as much pain, as much time as it takes, before they can finally save him.

I love you, so I will wait fifty years for you. I love you, so I will live through thousands of lifetimes to find you. I love you, so I will read and reread your story for the rest of time, just to keep you alive.

[coffee-and-geto]

THE SPACE YOU LEFT BEHIND

“Will you stay with me?” It’s like a wish waiting to be granted. “Forever.”

pairing: satoru gojo x sorcerer! reader

summary: indeed, after suguru has defected, you’ve been trying to heal yourself and to not loose your mind. but healing ourselves is always harder than helping others, isn’t it? but don’t forget the goal of a sorcerer: protect humans at the risk of your life. and sometimes, death is closer that we think it is.

warnings: heavy angst, injuries, mention of death, blood, depression, eating disorder, pinning, mention of vomit, mention of cigarettes, mei mei, nanami & shoko make and appearance, mention of yaga & suguru, the lion king movie mentionned, jujutsu sorcerers’ life sucks, the story takes shape after suguru's defection, bittersweet/happy ending.

wc: 5,039

When you committed to the world of exorcism after middle school, you hadn’t realized just how much you had underestimated the darker sides of this life, where exorcists dedicate their lives to protecting humans — the primary source of the curses’ existence.

Suguru was right, wasn’t he?

It’s because of them that your classmates died. It’s also their fault that your best friend deserted school after massacring an entire village during a mission.

That put an end to all the memories you cherished so dearly, kept, and illustrated in a diary.

Sunny afternoons after class, eating ice cream with your friends Shoko, Suguru, and Satoru. The setting sun signaling the end of a fulfilling day, leading into sleepless nights of sleepovers, where Satoru brought piles of sweets ready to infest your mouths with cavities as Suguru told scary stories about his hometown.

Or shopping days with Shoko, dragging the two boys along to test makeup products on them — the ones you’d never buy considering their outrageous prices.

Or those dangerous missions where you hunted curses, tracking them down to uphold your values: protecting the weak to maintain order and peace.

Such a beautiful motto, isn’t it?

A motto meant to help you, guide you, and support you so you wouldn’t lose sight of your goals.

So why did it fail so much that your once-beloved diary now sits open on your desk, collecting dust since the last time you opened it — not to add a new memory, but rather to look at the last ones you wrote.

Suguru’s departure left a void far more significant and meaningful than you had expected, didn’t it?

Life feels duller. The sky no longer seems as sunny — replaced by a grayish one, heavy with dark clouds threatening storms that mirror your emotions. If you had no tears left to cry, the rain would suffice to push you into your room after classes and missions, both as exhausting as your mind, consumed by draining thoughts.

The silence left by Suguru’s absence is far louder than all the times you screamed into his voicemail after he stopped responding to you. Of course, eventually, you gave up. Not out of choice.

Simply because he had blocked you.

And when changing SIM cards proved futile, you quickly realized through the automatic response that the number you sought was no longer in service.

It felt like all your regrets had come crashing down at once. But in truth, they had only arrived right on time.

If you had helped Suguru the way he needed, he wouldn’t have left. 

He wouldn’t have been condemned.

You wouldn’t have stopped eating, stopped living your life the way you were told you should, or started losing your friends one by one.

Suguru was the first.

Shoko isn’t the second. The brunette seems to hold up much better — although the number of cigarettes she smokes daily has doubled — she doesn’t withdraw into herself the way you do. So, you’re sure you won’t lose her... right?

And as for Satoru… Will he be the next to leave, one way or another?

Or will it be you?

Either way, you’re losing yourselves. It’s been a while since you stopped keeping track of how long it’s been since you last saw Satoru after Suguru’s departure.

Mr. Yaga confirmed that he hadn’t assigned him a single mission — the situation critical, delicate, and as fragile as a flower filled with poison that could make The Strongest falter at the slightest misstep or careless move.

He could very well be dead, and no one would know.

“So… you haven’t heard from him either?” Nanami murmurs, his deep, low voice almost swallowed by the muddy ground and heavy rain that poured as much as your overwhelmed mind.

You shake your head. “Not a single sign of life,” you mumble with the tip of your lips.

The two of you are on your way back to the school after a long mission assigned by your teacher, Yaga. It took you the entire day, but at least your mind feels lighter, despite the constant fatigue weighing on your shoulders like the weight of the world.

As the rain falls harder on you both, Nanami takes the initiative to open his black umbrella, holding it over your head as you stare at your mud-stained shoes.

“Almost three weeks.”

Your friend’s voice sounds distant, like hearing someone underwater.

Your head jerks up. “Hmm?”

“He hasn’t been out in almost three weeks,” Nanami repeats, his gaze fixed straight ahead. The crunching of your shoes and his on the gravel fills the silence before he continues. “Yaga gave him some time, but it’s getting harder to assign missions to others who are on Satoru’s level, you know.”

You don’t react to his words. Of course, he’s right.

Just as he’s wrong.

While Satoru’s behavior of shutting himself away without contact for so long isn’t responsible, his reasons remain entirely valid.

He just lost someone dear to him.

So, can you blame him?

But perhaps it’s time to bring your friend back, even if it means risking losing him — and yourself — in the process.

~~~~

You knock three times on Satoru’s dorm door.

A dead silence answers you.

You try again.

The same response.

So, you try the handle, testing whether it’s locked. However, it gives way under your hand, and a moment later, you step through the doorway into an unrecognizable environment.

Indeed, your best friend’s room — usually adorned with decorations and elements that so vividly reflected Satoru’s lively personality — is now unrecognizable. The windows, typically allowing sunlight to flood in and brighten the room, now shroud it in an ominous darkness. On the floor, clothes, likely dirty, are scattered at your feet. Satoru’s desk is covered in a visible layer of dust despite the dim light. And finally, on the bed you’ve always known, rests a long shape wrapped in thick blankets.

With his back turned to you, Satoru seems to be asleep from where you stand, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. Even when you call his name, he doesn’t show any sign of awareness.

So, you close the door and kneel by the side of his bed.

“Satoru?” you murmur, placing a gentle hand on a shoulder covered by your friend’s indigo comforter.

The slight shiver running through him proves he’s very much awake.

But was his mind equally present?

“Satoru, were you sleeping?” you ask, shaking him carefully.

He doesn’t respond, not even with a gesture.

Your throat tightens in the face of a situation you’ve never had to face with him before.

How do you help someone who’s in the same situation as you?

In fact, it’s even worse.

Satoru is Suguru’s other half. Their symbiotic relationship always stopped you from seeing further with Satoru, leaving you questioning what he truly felt for Suguru. Because deep down, you knew you didn’t stand a chance. You’d never hold a place as important as Suguru’s in Satoru’s heart.

So, you chose to fill the void in your heart with love for him. It’s far from enough, but you’d rather not dwell on it. Unrequited love always ends this way, doesn’t it?

You straighten up just enough to lie down on the small remaining space on Satoru’s bed, carefully rubbing your friend’s arm to avoid startling him while offering the overflow of affection that aches to be reciprocated but, for now, can only warm the albino.

You don’t dare complain about the stale smell in the room, prioritizing Satoru’s comfort above all else. You drape your arm around him as he breathes in and out with a shaky rhythm, ignoring the cold of the room that freezes you just as much as the rain from earlier did.

Perhaps half an hour passes. 

Maybe an hour. 

Or more. 

Or even just ten minutes.

The oppressive silence of the room quickly catches up to the sleep deprivation you so desperately need to cure. The cold vanishes. In the end, it doesn’t matter, right?

The only thing that matters is having Satoru in your arms, no matter what, his back pressed securely against you as your breaths synchronize, and your heartbeats merge in a way you’ve always dreamed of.

But when you flutter your eyes open, the absence of cold is quickly replaced by body warmth. Satoru’s thick comforter is draped over you, and his body is pressed against yours.

But what strikes you most is that he’s no longer facing away.

Satoru, his eyelids closed, breathes softly and slowly, the shadow of haunted dark circles staining his angelic face.

You’re about to sit up when Satoru, still without opening his eyes, slides a hand over your arm.

“Don’t move,” he mumbles.

And his raspy voice nearly gives you a heart attack.

There’s only one way for someone to have that effect.

And more than anything, the slight swelling and redness of Satoru’s pale eyelids confirm your suspicions.

Resting your head back onto the pillow, your forehead lightly brushes against Satoru’s.

“Can you look at me?” Your lips move in a near-inaudible whisper.

Almost imperceptibly, he shakes his head.

“Why?”

He doesn’t answer.

“Satoru,” you insist, maintaining the same melancholic gentleness.

So you take the initiative to slowly raise your hands, bringing them toward his soft face to gently lift his eyelids. But what you see causes a crack in your heart, one akin to the shattering of ice under the raw heat of fire.

A small, wet pearl escapes from one of his eyes, deliberately rolling down his cheek, crossing his nose, and vanishing at the corner of his mouth.

Without a word, Satoru opens his eyes, and the embodiment of pain meets your distressed gaze.

His cerulean irises, usually alive with mischief, are as dark as an abyssal chasm. It’s as though a curse itself has taken hold of his gaze, condemning anyone who dares to meet his bloodshot eyes.

Your eyebrows slowly knit together, and with your heart already shattered, you decide to wrap your arms around him, pulling an unrecognizable Satoru against you as his chest releases a trembling breath and your neck grows damp from the occasional drops of warmth falling from his face.

“I’m here,” you mutter in his ear. “I’m here no matter what.”

Your eyelids close slowly, letting the tears you’d held back finally roll down your own cheeks.

Once again, perhaps ten minutes, half an hour, or even the entire afternoon passes before you finally decide to sit up, gently pulling an exhausted Satoru into your arms.

And to your surprise, he allows it.

You help him stand, supporting him with an arm around his body despite the height difference, and guide him to the bathroom. The decision had been made a while ago, even if your consciousness hadn’t fully caught up. After all, you would have wanted someone to do the same for you.

But aren’t we always better at caring for others than for ourselves?

Without protest — even though the idea of seeing Satoru naked might have made you blush last month — immersing him in the warm bath you’ve carefully prepared doesn’t feel as awkward as you’d expected. You’ve never seen him without at least his boxers, so out of respect, you avert your eyes as the poor boy settles into the hot water.

You grab a bottle of shampoo lying around in Satoru’s bathroom, squeezing out a small amount to wash his angelic hair. Despite having likely neglected his hygiene as much as you have lately, your friend is in desperate need of someone to care for him.

Satoru, his eyes still closed, seems almost asleep under your slow, gentle, and careful movements.

It looks like you’re washing a real dead man.

But perhaps part of him has been dead ever since Suguru left? Perhaps a piece of him vanished the moment Suguru was gone?

The faint hum vibrating from Satoru’s lips reassures you that he’s still conscious. You take it as a good sign that he’s relaxing. Your nails softly scratch his scalp, and he lets out a low groan of satisfaction. The foam grows thicker as you continue to massage Satoru’s head.

You rinse the shampoo from his hair with warm water, droplets trickling down his perfect face.

One of those droplets slides just below his eye, so imperceptibly that you wonder if you’d have noticed it at all if you weren’t gazing at his face with almost religious reverence.

Using a washcloth, you pick up Satoru’s body wash this time, lathering it across his skin, applying slightly more pressure to tense areas in need of a soothing massage. Soft sighs escape his nose, signaling that you can continue without bothering him.

After several massages where you pay special attention to certain spots, you fetch a robe, wrapping it around Satoru’s now-clean body. He’s like new, more ready now to hold onto a semblance of consciousness.

But one thing that strikes you is that Satoru, despite being entirely naked and in such a vulnerable state of weakness, allowed you to care for him without opening his eyes even once.

With a faint, gentle smile, you guide Satoru back to his room, grabbing some clean, comfortable clothes for him while he collapses onto his bed under the weight of the world on his shoulders. You help him into each piece of clothing, his body too weak to move as usual, almost lifeless. Then, you lead him to your room, crossing the school’s corridors so he can rest in the clean and organized space you’ve managed to create after pulling yourself together following your own depressive episode of endless, self-destructive days.

Your room is a true haven — tidy, clean, and orderly.

And so your freshly made bed with its crisp sheets seems to call to Satoru. The softness of the mattress cradles him as you drape your immaculate comforter over him.

Like laying a deceased loved one to rest in their coffin, Satoru keeps his eyes closed, his face void of expression, yet with a weariness that seems to have lifted ever so slightly.

~~~~

“How long?”

“I already told you.”

“Liar.”

Satoru pushes the food tray toward you, the arm of the mechanical table brushing against your torso. “I’m not hungry anyway.”

You sigh, the exhaustion of the past few days weighing on you like a heavy, unpleasant rain.

“First of all, you just got back from a mission where you were inches from dying if Shoko hadn’t been there. Second, you refuse to tell me how long it’s been since you’ve eaten — unless it’s been a month — and now you’re saying you’re not hungry?”

Satoru, lying under the pristine white sheets of his infirmary bed, simply turns his head away. It’s as if he’s acting like a machine. 

Mechanical movements, curt responses, and barely any signs of life.

During one of the recent missions assigned to him by Principal Yaga after weeks of absence, Satoru resumed his routine. He sleeps, does his missions, and returns to sleep in his room. Ever since you took the time to clean and organize his room, you haven’t exchanged more than a sentence. The only memory that still haunts you is the blood-red hue of Satoru’s eyes that night in his room.

The void left by Suguru has wreaked havoc.

And while you’ve managed to patch yourself up — or so you think — you’re now trying to help your friend in need. But how do you help someone who refuses to speak?

“And ‘I don’t know’ isn’t an answer,” you add in the face of his silence, rubbing your face, which feels warmer than usual. Perhaps it’s the heat of the room? December is a month where illness comes quickly. But it’s nothing, you reassure yourself.

“You’re flushed.”

“I know.”

“That wasn’t a question.”

Both of you avert your gaze, equally annoyed and concerned with one another.

“When was the last time you even slept? You spend more time watching over my sleep and my meals than looking at yourself in a mirror. You look like a Halloween costume.”

Ouch.

You glance at your reflection in the mirror near the nurse’s desk, and despite Satoru’s harsh words, your state seems even worse than his.

You’ve lost weight lately. The dark hollows under your eyes mirror your grueling schedule, where you spend most of your day juggling missions, watching over Satoru, and helping the school with any task.

Like an escape, you’ve found any excuse to avoid being alone. Especially with yourself.

But isn’t that exactly what Suguru did? The poor guy had no one to talk to, and the one time he tried, you thought he was just exhausted from swallowing curses. That was when he broke down and sobbed in front of you.

The memory alone stings your eyes. And unfortunately for you, you’re not in any shape to hold back the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks.

You stand abruptly, turning your head away to avoid showing the cracks in your courageous facade to your best friend.

“Eat. I have a mission in half an hour. I’ll be back tonight.”

As you slip out of the infirmary, Satoru painfully sit up in his bed, opening his mouth to call after you, to say something. Anything. His words were harsh and cruel, while you’ve been patient with him, caring for him more than for yourself.

But he hates it.

Because you only remind him of what Suguru used to do. When he felt terrible, Suguru helped him despite his own pain, despite wanting to vomit up the curses he’d consumed or even die. Suguru cared about his appetite, just as you do now with Satoru. The same with his sleep, his recklessness during missions.

So he doesn’t want to lose you, at the risk of dying a second time.

~~~~

That same evening, you don’t return.

And Satoru notices immediately, because at bedtime, around 10 PM, you usually stop by his room — even more so now that he’s in the infirmary.

Missions take time. So Satoru reassures himself, thinking that you simply took longer and that by the next morning, you’d be by his side to check on him. He would apologize. He’d ask for forgiveness and try to understand the reason behind the instability in your voice before you left earlier.

Did he hurt you that much?

His train of thought is interrupted by urgent voices barking orders, and Shoko putting on her apprentice doctor’s coat as she grabs a spell manual on her way out, meeting Satoru’s confused gaze.

And he understands immediately who it’s about.

Despite his still weakened state and his inability to perform Reverse Curse Technique for some time now, Satoru pulls on his exorcist uniform, leaving his sunglasses on the bedside table, and follows Shoko and the team of medics heading toward a school car. But he swiftly grabs Shoko’s wrist.

If something happened to you, taking a stupid car would only lead to a certain death.

With a gaze as panicked as it is void, Satoru questions his friend.

“Mei Mei went to check on what happened,” Shoko murmurs gravely. “The mission was simple. She should’ve been back over five hours ago.” She points to the time on her watch.

1:20 AM.

Did he fall asleep while lost in thought? How had so much time passed since he noticed your absence earlier that night?

“And you think taking more time in this car is enough?” Satoru spits his words, his voice low but echoing nonetheless into the snowy night as flurries begin to fall around them. “Just tell me you want her dead now, then.”

Shoko glances at the waiting car.

“Then what do you suggest?” she asks, narrowing her eyes, scrutinizing her friend from head to toe before yanking her wrist back sharply. “Look at you. You can barely stand.”

“I can still teleport. You’re far more competent than these clowns,” Satoru replies in the same tone, grabbing her wrist again. “And let me remind you, we cannot lose her.” The warning in his voice sounds like a threat.

It’s only when Shoko finally relents that Satoru teleports them both after she gives him the location where Mei Mei last reported finding you. The pressure of the spell makes them feel like they’re being sucked through a narrow tube, or squeezed in a vice. When they finally arrive at your location, it’s with a pop sound, like a bubble bursting free.

Releasing Shoko’s wrist the very second they arrive, Satoru scans the surroundings — then freezes.

Mei Mei’s blue hair is bent over a body on the ground. In the dim light of the night, only the moon’s rays illuminate a pool resembling wine.

And Satoru would’ve prayed for it to be only wine.

He and Shoko rush toward Mei Mei, who steps aside to face them with a furrowed brow, her expression a foreboding omen.

“Internal bleeding,” she announces to Shoko.

The words ring like a gong in Satoru’s ears, now buzzing. His paralyzed body stands mere inches from you. Your half-closed eyes stare blankly into the void, your arms lying limply at your sides, and a streak of dried blood stains your cheek. Despite the presence of your friends, you don’t react.

Not even when Satoru says your name.

Once.

Twice.

Three times.

And as many times as it takes before Shoko and Mei Mei push him back, as he struggles to try to hold you in his arms, his hoarse voice cracking, begging you not to leave him.

For the first time in what feels like an eternity, Satoru Gojo, whose senses granted by his Six Eyes had long been dulled, awakens once again.

He hears your heart beating faintly. The pulse of your arteries, the successive waves of blood pushed by your struggling heart. Your shallow breaths slipping through damaged lungs. The warmth of your blood slowly leaking life away.

Please, no…

As long as it took for Satoru to recover a fraction of his powers, the same amount of time seems to pass while Shoko works quickly to stop your hemorrhaging.

He knows because he no longer hears the blood flowing out of your body. Your pulse has slowed, and though still weak, your heart beats with slightly more determination.

That determination, Satoru perceives as a flame.

A flame you refuse to let extinguish, because he knows you’re fighting not to pass on.

And if you no longer have the strength, Satoru will be the lighter forcing you to keep fighting. He will stay by your side as long as you need him.

And he will refuse to die a second time — unless it’s for you.

~~~~

A few days later.

The roles have reversed.

Satoru, fully recovered from his mission for a while now, devotes all his time to your care. He’s moved his belongings to the infirmary, where you remain recuperating. He insisted on pushing a bed right up against yours to monitor your sleep, your eating habits, and your overall well-being. 

Every movement you make is instantly picked up by his Six Eyes.

Your survival after your mission was nothing short of a miracle for Satoru.

A prayer he made — and one that was answered.

“You tired?” he asks softly, tucking a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. His cerulean eyes linger on your still-fresh bandages, and a bitter pang squeezes at his heart.

You shake your head despite the telltale dark circles under your eyes. “I’m feeling better.”

“Bored?” he guesses then, raising an eyebrow slightly, his tone tinged with amusement. Is he planning something?

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Got something in mind?” you reply, curiosity sparking enough to make you want to laugh genuinely.

Lying beside you in his own infirmary bed pressed against yours, Satoru gently takes your hand in his. He lifts it to chest level, absentmindedly playing with your fingers. “I could put on a movie for us if you’d like…”

“What kind of movie? If you even think about suggesting that cursed Terrifier again, I swear I’ll strang—”

Satoru bursts into laughter at your disgusted expression. His chest shakes with every sound, lifting the weight of any lingering pain in his heart.

“I was thinking more along the lines of the new The Lion King movie,” he says with a mischievous grin.

“Mufasa, you mean?” Your face lights up for a moment. “But the movie has just been released,” you add, frowning slightly. “We can’t go anywhere.”

“Who said anything about going somewhere?” He wraps one long arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer just before planting a chaste kiss on your temple — a gesture that nearly makes your lungs give out.

Somehow, Satoru always manages to surprise you.

Despite the movie’s exclusive release at cinemas, half an hour later you find yourself watching it. 

Nestled against Satoru under some thicker blankets he brought, the two of you share snacks scattered across your laps. The only light in the infirmary is the soft glow of the film projector casting the movie onto a pristine wall.

Your cheek rests against Satoru’s chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat serving as the perfect lullaby to lull you to sleep. On top of that, his long fingers gently scratch your scalp, soothing you further into relaxation.

The moment feels so perfect you almost mistake it for a dream — but no.

Right now, it’s as if the depressive haze that had weighed down both you and Satoru has been blown away, replaced by a fleeting moment of happiness wrapped in the cocoon of this night.

Just like your feelings, the situation between you and Satoru is undefined and confusing. A shared closeness restored, mutual personal care, and a clear attachment to each other.

It seems like friendship, doesn’t it?

But then, why does your hand, resting on your friend’s chest, tremble at the thought of sliding around the back of his neck to pull him closer—close enough for your lips to finally meet his?

Feeling your trembling hand, Satoru shifts his attention away from the movie to look down at you. “Sweetheart?”

Your eyes meet his, drowning in the deep ocean of blue they hold.

With every passing second, you try to speak, to respond, to confess everything. To tell him everything. Yet, with your lips parted, all you can manage is a soft whisper:

“Nothing.”

~~~~

December 25th.

All of Tokyo Jujutsu High has gathered amidst the scents of warm food, the laughter of groups of friends, the unwrapping of gifts, and the feeling of family.

Yet, Satoru feels like something is missing.

This December 25th marks the first Christmas you, Shoko, and Satoru spend without Suguru.

So what’s the point of celebrating? What is Suguru doing right now? Is he spending such a special day all alone?

Alone, outside the school’s festive hall, Satoru stands bundled in a winter coat, snow as white as his hair delicately falling onto his frame. He’s leaning against a wall, as if that simple act could help him stay upright.

His throat tightens.

He wants Suguru back.

But he knows all too well that he won’t have him.

So Satoru doesn’t celebrate Christmas when the one source of his joy has vanished.

Inside the hall, you’re laughing wholeheartedly with a few friends, a glass of champagne in hand and a large scarf draped over your shoulders for warmth.

But amidst the small crowd, the one person who holds your heart is nowhere to be found.

Your smile slowly fades as your eyes frantically scan the room for Satoru. You excuse yourself hastily and begin to search — the hall, the restroom — before finally heading toward the door to the courtyard.

Almost sprinting, you step out into the biting December cold.

And there he is.

With measured steps, you move to stand beside him. He doesn’t budge, even as you gently wipe the dried tears from his face while he sniffles absentmindedly, his nose reddened by the sharp chill.

“Do you believe that he’s thinking of us right now?” Satoru murmurs, his voice rough and low.

“I’m sure of it,” you whisper softly in reply, pulling a tissue from your pocket and holding it to his nose so he can blow. A faint smile tugs at your lips as he thanks you with one last sniffle.

You’re about to put the tissue away when Satoru abruptly but tenderly pulls you into his arms, pressing you firmly against him.

“Satoru?” Your eyes search his, confused, as he leans his face as close to yours as possible, nearly sending your heart into overdrive when his long, slender nose brushes against yours.

“I love you,” he whispers, his tone carrying a small smile.

Those three little words leave you speechless, your lips parted in shock at the confession and the sincerity behind it.

It’s as if your entire being comes alive again, breaking free.

After so long without crying, it only takes those words to bring tears back to the surface. Salty streams trail down your cheeks as your face twists, trying to hold back sobs.

“I love you too,” you cry, your voice trembling all the same.

Satoru, his own smile tinged with fragility, wipes your face just as you did for him. His thumbs gently rub your cheeks in a bittersweet comfort.

And in a synchronized motion, your lips connect, pressing against each other with an intensity that makes your souls whirl like the wind does with the falling snow.

Every time your lips part to end a kiss or catch your breath, you find each other again in the next second, as if eternity had tried to keep you apart. The cold ceases to exist around you; the warmth of your finally united souls is enough to melt the ice that had formed within you since Suguru’s departure.

Reluctantly, you break the kiss to catch your breath, your eyes no longer shining with tears, but with love this time.

Neither of you pulls away from the closeness you share. Your bodies speak for you, the silence between you filled with mutual understanding.

Satoru clears his throat. “Will you stay with me?”

It’s like a wish waiting to be granted.

“Forever.”

tags: @ssetsuka @zara-zara11 @bearwithmoo @elliesndg @lymsfm @mutsu422

@drippymcdrippison @koshhin @v31v3t @wawuwe @cybersomniq @sanemistar

@monokaix @moonlitwitchdaisy

a/n: hello everyone :)) this fic was special to write thh. it’s the one that came out of an episode of impostor syndrome where i just wrote without thinking. i’d been wanting to write angst about satoru for a loooong time, so here it is :) (why do i secretly hope i’ve made all of you cry?). anyway, we can finally breathe after big exams! i’ve never looked forward to the christmas vacations as much as this year, lmao. take care of your little faces <3

reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated <3

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[katsu28]

operation mistletoe

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: all it takes is one meddling lando norris and some mistletoe at the mclaren holiday party for oscar and yourself to admit your true feelings for each other. (2.2k)

a/n: day two with osc! enjoy <3

“I don’t know why you won’t just tell him.” 

Lando is currently laying spread eagle on your kitchen floor, tossing a padel ball above his head while you shove a packet of popcorn into the microwave for your movie night. 

His question is out of the blue, but you know what he's talking about. Lando is wondering why you won’t tell a certain Aussie you both work with that you have feelings for him.

He’s been wondering for a while now, bordering on a year since you’d accidentally let it slip to him—almost half the time said Aussie has been part of McLaren. 

You scoff. “Have you sent it into the barriers too many times? That’s literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“But why?” He presses, sounding exasperated. You can’t see him around the island counter, but you can imagine that squinty eyed, scrunchy nosed look he always gets when he doesn’t understand something. You’ve seen it almost overwhelmingly often in the few years you’ve been friends. 

“First of all, we work together. If I tell Oscar that I like him and he doesn’t like me back, I’d never be able to show my face at MTC ever again,” You reason, searching for a bowl to put the popcorn in once it's done. 

It’s actually something you’ve put quite a bit of thought into when weighing the pros and cons of telling Oscar about your feelings. 

“I’d have to find a new job, but that might take forever, so I’d have to move back in with my parents until I find one—if I find one—and I’m pretty sure my mum turned my bedroom into a yoga space the moment I’d left for uni, so I’d have to move into the basement. And then the job I find might not even be around here, so I’d have to move back out of my parents’ place and find another place to live, and you know how expensive things are in some cities! I’d have to find roommates, and I don’t really fancy living with strangers somewhere I don’t know.” 

Lando has taken a seat at the counter when you turn back around with the bowl in your hands, staring at you with the most unimpressed look you’ve ever seen gracing his dumb face. 

“I reckon you’re overthinking things just a smidge,” He says flatly. He thinks you’re being dramatic. You’d call it brainstorming possible worst scenarios. 

You scowl, dumping the freshly popped kernels into said bowl before shoving it towards him. “You don’t know that.” 

He shovels a mouthful of it into his mouth on your way to the couch, sprawling out the length of it with his socked feet in your lap. “I’m pretty sure he fancies you too.” 

“Did he tell you that?” You raise a brow, swatting his feet off you. 

“Well, no, but I’m very perceptive.” 

“I saw you once say excuse me to a mannequin in a race suit at MTC because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going.” 

“Oi, fuck you!” Lando huffs, donkey kicking you lightly in the thigh. “You promised you’d never bring that up again. All I’m saying is that you should just man up and tell him flat out.” 

“I should what?” 

“Shit, I mean—well. Woman up? I guess?” He wonders, squinting one eye shut. “I dunno, really, but still. You never know how he’ll react. Could turn out mint.” 

“Can we not talk about it anymore? Please?” You groan, letting your head tip back against the cushions. “I just feel a little pathetic right now.” You feel Lando pat your head. 

“You’re not pathetic. Love just sucks,” He says sympathetically. “But sure, we don’t have to talk about it right now.” 

-------

True to his word, Lando doesn’t bring it up for weeks. In hindsight, you should’ve taken it as a sign of him planning something, but you’ve been busy with other things. 

Nothing happens until the McLaren holiday party, right after the FIA awards in Rwanda. Someone yells your name from afar as you’re going for a second drink, and when you turn to see who it is, you spot Lando waving wildly at you, gesturing for you to come over. 

Before you can even say anything when you approach, he grabs your hand, dragging you down the corridor. He walks and walks and walks, still not saying a word despite your constant badgering. 

Finally, he stops and takes you by the shoulders, maneuvering you a few steps to one side, forward a few steps. Then he nods once, backing up with his hands out in front of him. “Do me a favor, just wait right here for a second.” 

“What? Lando, what’re you—”

“No, no, no, this is important, I promise. Just stay there. Maybe close your eyes too if you could, that’d be mint.” 

Despite your confusion, you oblige, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear his footsteps retreat, but then nothing for a suspiciously long time. Had he just stuck you here and run off like an absolute wanker? 

A shoulder bumps yours before you can jump to any more conclusions, and it startles you. 

“What the hell is going on?” You question, frowning. Nothing but silence. “Lando? Are you there?” 

“Erm, nope. Not Lando.” 

Fuck. You know that voice. That voice makes your heart do a stupid tap dance against your rib cage every time you hear it.

Your eyes fly open to meet an extremely familiar pair of brown ones. Oscar’s eyes. Oscar is standing right in front of you, looking just as confused as you feel. 

“Oscar!” You exclaim, feeling your face flame hot. 

You can’t help the surprise seeping into your voice. To see him there isn’t something you were expecting at all, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks extremely handsome, almost glowing with happiness fresh off the end of a successful season for the team. The blue suit he has on clings to him in just the right ways, and his cheeks have a pink flush to them.

“Hi,” He says awkwardly. You aren’t quite certain what to do at the moment, or what even is happening right now. “Do you know what’s going on?” 

“I don’t, actually. Lando just told me to stay here and that he’d be right back,” You admit.

Oscar lets out a noise of acknowledgement from the back of his throat. “Yeah, same, he told me it was something important. I’m not sure where he went, though.” 

He brings up a good point. Where had Lando gone?

Your phone buzzes in your hand at that moment, Lando’s name flashing across the screen when you glance at it. “Hang on, he’s just texted me,” You inform Oscar, angling your phone towards him as if whatever the message says will explain everything. 

Lando: Look up. 

Both of you look up at the same time, and what you see makes your heart drop into your ass. 

A sprig of mistletoe dangles from a haphazardly tied piece of string attached to the beam above. 

That fucker. You’re going to kill him. You’re actually going to kill Lando Norris. 

“Is that—that’s not mistletoe, is it?” Oscar squints up at the tiny plant, tilting his head. 

“It is,” You sigh, fighting the urge to go find Lando and strangle him with your bare hands. “I want you to know I’ve had absolutely nothing to do with this. It was all your idiot teammate.” 

Oscar laughs a little bit, shoulders shaking. “No, I know it’s all him. He thinks he’s hilarious.” 

“He sure does.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever told him he’s not,” He replies. Then he shifts on his feet, reaching up to run a nervous hand through his hair. “You look really nice, by the way. Been meaning to tell you that all night, but there’s so many people here I couldn’t find you. Until now, it seems.” 

All night. Oscar has been looking for you all night, just to tell you that you look nice. He’s making it really hard not to fall for him a little bit more. 

“Thank you, Oscar. You clean up well too.” 

He looks down at himself, rocking back and forth on his heels a little. “You think so? I didn’t know if the two shades of blue were too much.” 

“No, they look great. Really.” 

A sudden silence blankets the two of you, and you hate it. You wish you were better at holding conversation, but with Oscar, all your thoughts seem to go right out the window. 

“We should go—” 

“D’you want to—” 

“Sorry, sorry, you first,” You insist, pressing your lips together. 

“Sure, yeah. I was just, uh, asking if you’d maybe want to…y’know.” He glances up at the mistletoe, then back to you, and if you aren’t mistaken, he looks a little hopeful. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. I’m not—I wouldn’t force you or anything. I just…yeah, we could, if that’s something you’d be into.” 

“Oh!” You blink at him owlishly, completely caught off guard by his suggestion. Oscar wants to kiss you. Is this real life, or has Lando just played the ultimate cruelest prank on you?

“Tradition-wise, and all. I heard you’re cursed with bad luck for years if you break it,” He adds hastily, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Definitely wouldn’t want that.” 

“Definitely not,” He echoes, bobbing his head. What comes out of his mouth next is entirely out of the blue. “Did you know the word mistletoe comes from two Anglo Saxon words? Mistel, which means dung, and tan, which basically means branch.” 

“No, I did not know that! That’s…very interesting,” You say enthusiastically, teeth digging into your bottom lip to quell the laugh threatening to spill out. If it were anyone else, you’d think it was quite weird, but Oscar’s word vomit is strangely endearing. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. It’s disgusting, and you didn’t ask. Erm, wow, I’m—” 

“Oscar.” 

“Yeah?” He squeaks, pale cheeks rosy with embarrassment. 

You push forward instead of saying anything else, pressing your lips against his briefly. It’s a split second kiss, but it’s all you can manage without feeling like you’re doing something monumentally stupid. Still, it’s enough to send a zip of something thrilling through your veins. 

When you pull back, Oscar’s eyes are wide, and immediately you think you’ve made a mistake. You open your mouth to blurt an excuse, an apology, anything, but he speaks before you can.

“Will you go out with me?” You falter at the sudden question, totally caught off guard, and it seems to make him panic. “Oh. Oh no. Did I get this completely wrong?” 

“No! No, you didn’t,” You say quickly, reaching out to take his hand. His shoulders slump in relief, fingers already tightening around yours. “I’d love to go out with you, Osc.” 

“Thank god, or this would’ve been really awkward,” He sighs. “Looks like Lando did something right today.” 

“For the first time in his life, probably.” 

“In all fairness, I don’t think I would’ve had the balls to ask you out otherwise,” Oscar admits sheepishly. You hum your agreement. It turns out Lando being a nosy meddler of a friend has its benefits sometimes. “Think we should thank him or something?” 

“Definitely not. His ego would get way too big.” 

Lando looks entirely too smug when the two of you return to the party, eyes immediately zeroing in on your joined hands. “I take it the mistletoe went over well?” 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You shrug casually, glancing over at Oscar to see him do the same. 

“Alright, fine. Be like that. You’re welcome, by the way. I expect a mad good Christmas present from both of you this year, I hope you know that.”

Oscar blinks. “But I already got you a set of tea towels.” 

“Ugh, spoiler!” Lando huffs, shoulders slumping. “Also, what are we—fifty? I mean, tea towels! Really, Osc?” 

“You said yours were ugly!” 

You make an offended noise from the back of your throat, furrowing your eyebrows. “I got you those towels for secret santa two years ago, you asshole.” 

“You did? Jesus, you two really are meant for each other,” Lando snorts, shaking his head. 

Oscar just grins over at you, giving a little tilt of his head as if to say great minds think alike. 

“By the way, we’ve got to get onstage soon, so if you’d stop making goo goo eyes at each other so we could get a move on, that’d be great.” 

“Oh. Alright.” Oscar’s smile fades as his gaze flicks back to you, seemingly displeased that he has to leave you so soon. “D’you mind if I…” 

“Go on, bring out the trophy. I’ll be right here,” You assure him, stepping in to drop a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Once they’re onstage little while later, Oscar’s already found you in the crowd, and as they lift the impressive trophy high in the air, he’s only looking at you, beaming so unbelievably bright it might just rival the sun. You smile right back at him, the pride you have both for this team and the two boys onstage just barely contained. 

This night marks the start of new beginnings, both for McLaren and for your relationship with a certain Aussie. And just like the 2025 season, you’re excited to see what next year will hold. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

[yeahxsurexokay13]

wrong guy, lando norris

summary: fans think yn is dating max, but they've got the wrong guy [bsf!reader]

been a min since i posted! honestly, these just take me way too long and i usually end up abandoning them because i start hating them halfway through from overthinking lol. hope you enjoy this one though (: xx

y/n.y/l 📍 Ibiza, Spain

Liked by riabish, carlossainz55 and 159.870 others

y/n.y/l we only argued 3 times, cried 2, and got lost 1 (personal record)

view all 579 comments

user9 right so who argued? who cried? and most importantly whO IS THE SHADOW?

user14 can we talk about how u're LITERALLY glowing in that first pic? u look so happy, girl!!

user20 the vibes on this dump… rich people's holidays just hit different.

iamrebeccad ✓ Beautiful girl 😍

y/n.y/l 🫶🏼 miss youu!!

user4 “cried 2 times” is actually impressive ♥︎ by author

user55 lando and max just casually being brothers in the fourth pic 😩❤️

user81 that shot is just *chef’s kiss*!!!! Glad we can always count on this queen for hq content

user63 Okay so I’ve been staring at this shadow pic for like 10 minutes, and I can’t figure it out…

user33 my money’s on max bc that hug pic of them earlier too… feels very coupley.

user63 idk friends to lovers agenda thriving tho

user3 Max and Lando with the face masks are killing me 😂 ♥︎ by author

user6 max or lando? place your bets now. i’m team max but i’ll die on this hill if i'm wrong

user2 which you are, because it’s definitely Lando

user8 guys they’ve literally known each other since forever and go on these friends holidays all the time lmao this is just FRIENDSHIP GOALS. stop romanticising everything!!!

user24 then explain the head kiss?

user8 friendly head kisses???

user24 friendly kisses?? in this economy? be serious. that’s couple behaviour

user12 smells like a third wheel in here…

y/n.y/l sorry, that's just me. i am the third wheel🙋🏼‍♀️

user13 she really said 'stop shipping me with my best friends' lol

user44 max and lando with the face masks in the water might be my new favourite photo of all time

user16 ngl that's not bad statistics for a week long trip ♥︎ by author

user11 If it’s Max, I’ll cry. If it’s Lando, I’ll cry harder. If it’s neither, I don’t know what I’ll do.

user18 i’ve been following these three for years and i’m still trying to figure out if that last slide is supposed to be romantic or not….? HELP I AM SO CONFUSED

user22 what book is that? i need recommendations!!

y/n.y/l just for the summer!!! LOVED it x

user10 i can’t believe she was so chill about posting thAT LAST PIC!??!! miss y/l!!! SPILL NOW

maxfewtrell ✓ Why are you saying 'we'? Pretty sure you were the one who did all of those

landonorris ✓ classic move, shifting the blame

y/n.y/l @/landonorris @/maxfewtrell the getting lost part was definitely a team effort

user1 I need to go on a trip with friends like this ♥︎ by author

user5 being that close to lando AND max and surviving the friendship without catching feelings was too good to be true let's be honest

pietra.pilao 😍😍

y/n.y/l 💞💞

user7 so when’s the next ‘friends holiday'? asking for a friend (me)

15 August 2024

maxfewtrell ✓

Liked by landonorris, y/n.y/l and 98.982 others

maxfewtrell The real girlfriend reveal, for the record 🫡

👤 pietra.pilao

view all 398 comments

user1 WAIT WHAT

user6 so it really wasn’t Y/n??

pietra.pilao ❤️❤️ ♥︎ by author

user4 omg she's the girl who commented on yn's holiday dump!!!

user3 We owe Max and his gf an apology 😭 She’s stunning, btw

user2 omg u two are so cuteeeeeeee! happy for u max :)

user5 your gf is so pretty 😭😭😭

y/n.y/l P!!!! 💕💕

y/n.y/l you two make a better couple than you and I ever would anyway 😂 ♥︎ by author

user9 WHY DIDN’T YOU SAY THIS EARLIER?! we’ve been spiralling for WEEKS

user12 actually he's been saying it from the beginning. we just didn't want to listen 😂😂

user8 max: “here’s my gf. leave me out of y/n’s business”

user12 OK but pietra is STUNNING!! Max, you’ve been hiding her for how long?!

user7 the way he had to clarify this because of us is actually hilarious. sorry, Max.

user11 OMG I feel so dumb now we really had y/n in a whole relationship she wasn’t even in ��

29 August 2024

y/n.y/l

Liked by oscarpiastri, sophiaaemelia and 289.034 others

y/n.y/l outtakes from ai·bee·thuh

view all 930 comments

user1 AAAAAAAAHHHHH!!!!!?? MYSTERY SOLVED IG

user12 I THINK THIS MIGHT BE THE GREATEST THING TO HAPPEN TO MY FEED THIS YEAR I AM NOT EVEN JOKING

maxfewtrell ✓ So Lando gets the cute video and I get the passed out in the car pic? Playing favourites, I see. Noted.

user8 Max calling out Y/n for favoritism is peak sibling energy

user33 i can't believe we were full on shipping them not even a week ago omg

maxfewtrell ✓ Also, can everyone stop tagging me in that shadow pic now? Like, I’m good, it’s definitely not me 😅 ♥︎ by author

user11 pietra honestly deserves a medal for surviving this holiday with these three omg

user17 GUYS I WAS ALREADY PRETTY SHOCKED AT LANDO'S VIDEO BLOWING A KISS I HAD NO IDEA WHAT I HAD COMING

pietra.pilao Special week 🤍 ♥︎ by author

user81 the lift photo with the McDonald’s bag is so relatable. even on a fancy holiday, you gotta have your nuggets ♥︎ by author

user25 turns out Max wasn't lying when he said y/n wasn’t his headache... lando’s the lucky one 😂

user10 and y/n and pietra? they do ✨besties ✨ better than anyone ♥︎ by author

user19 can we get a ‘whoops, my bad’ from the ppl who saw them in Ibiza and STILL missed the fact that Pietra was there?

user2 they literally had a front row seat to the full gossip and still didn’t catch on !!!!! like hELLO? u had one job

user14 THE SOFT LAUNCH TURNED INTO A HARD LAUNCH REAL QUICK I AM SHOOK

alexandrasaintmleux ✓ Ahhh loveeee 🩷🩷 ♥︎ by author

user26 both boys punching above their weight fr. i said what i said.

francisca.cgomes ✓ ❤️❤️😍 ♥︎ by author

user16 The way Max is sleeping in that last pic has me wheezing ♥︎ by author

user3 lando is literally holding y/n like he’s never letting her go boy is WHIPPED

user29 WE'RE GOING TO SEE "LANDO NORRIS' PARTNER" UNDER YN'S NAME NOW WHEN SHE WATCHES FROM THE GARAGE what a time to be alive

user7 not the way y/n is casually posting a McDonald’s bag in a robe and THEN dropping the most beautiful couple pic with lando

user5 waIT SO THE BOY KISSING HER HEAD IN THE SHADOW PIC WAS LANDO??? WE WERE ALL WRONG. I NEED TO LIE DOWN.

maxfewtrell you know, it truly baffles me how this was barely even considered

y/n.y/l no one believed in me enough to be able to pull f1 race winner lando norris. humbling.

user20 YN I - 😭😭😭😭💀💀

user38 it was a couple’s holiday the whole time 😭😭 I need a moment to recover

user9 this fandom’s clownery knows no bounds istg.........

user21 not me crying over the hard launch of the year when I was just admiring Max’s sleeping face 5 seconds ago

user24 Ibiza really gave us everything: friendship goals, couple goals, and max in a food coma

user18 IT WAS LANDO KISSING HER HEAD. I feel so betrayed by my own theories and also pretty disappointed in myself i couldn't tell it was his shadow

landonorris ✓ I see you saved the best for last 🖤

y/n.y/l ☺️☺️

y/n.y/l omg guys i wasn’t being dry i just don’t know what else to say with all you watching 😭😭

1 September 2024

[neithoftheveil]

Neith’s TGCF Fic Recs:

I’ve never made a rec list before, but for Christmas, I wanted to share some (not all—by god, we’d be here forever) of the fics saved to my kindle, some of my bookmarks, and some of my friends’ works (with overlap between those categories).

In no particular order:

tell you every day by scrapimmortal

Adorable amnesia Wulian oneshot that makes me smile.

melt (i’d tell them; put me back in it) by scrapimmortal

If I had a dollar for every time I’ve read this, I would have many dollars; perfection.

The flap of a butterfly’s wing by Ameji

Really enjoyed the political and personal drama in this one. A fun, exciting read that got me thinking about how to approach my own fics.

Pig in the Garden by illuminatingsceadugunga

I love FengQing’s heads exploding over hualian being married pre-third ascension; it’s delightful—very fun fic!

The Supplicant by ardenrabbit

The anticipation in chapter 1 was literally killing me; so excited to see more!

Land of the Callous by starvingwritist

A very fun, well-constructed truth serum Xianle quartet fic; Hualian are perfect for each other, truly. Couldn’t wait to see what would go wrong (and right)!

Heaven is Overwhelming by crispytaco

I love selective mutism fics; this one is very sweet! Comfort read.

there’s no rush by miska_za

Very sweet marathon sex; another comfort read.

quiet like stains by haysel

This soulmate AU has permanently altered my brain. It’s my favorite modern AU.

and the rain won’t make any difference by haysel

The atmosphere and the emotion? Out of this world. Love at first sight that takes your breath away. So sweet.

Your Courage, Your Despair by boomchick

I think about this fic at least once a week. Hualian hurt/comfort is my favorite thing.

‘Til our compass stands still by edenwolfie

Cannot watch the s2 opening of the donghua without getting nostalgia for this fic. Love the OCs. Love the characterization of XL. I would live in this fic if I could.

The Road I Walked Alone by aewea

Gives me literal chills every time (love it). What would happen if the play at the Mid-Autumn Banquet was actually the 100 swords scene.

We Stan Scrap Gege! by paidsubscription

Couldn’t stop laughing and smiling. Love this author’s AUs. Always so well thought out. And the “ghost citizens” are amazingly written!

The southern guide to a happy marriage by illuminate

The way this author writes Mu Qing makes me feral. FengQing get married before Xie Lian ascends a third time. It’s horny. It’s fun.

I can feel your halo by illuminate

Probably my favorite fengqing fanfic; I’ve read it a dozen times! Mu Qing’s spiritual powers are stolen, and he takes full advantage of them being gone to fulfill some long-buried desires.

common love isn’t for us by nobirdstofly

A really fun, dynamic piece that plays with FengQing’s deputy disguises. Hot too!

I Want to Ki** You by tyelperintal

I love every interaction Xie Lian and Mu Qing have in this piece, especially when XL gives way too many details about his sex life in order to help MQ navigate his desire for FX.

Wu Ming Loving Hours by featherpoet

A cute and inventive what-if. A canon divergence from Wuming’s death.

When I Was Older by corduroyserpent

An emotional time travel fic I love. Read it twice. Plan to reread soon!

Nameless Longing by corduroyserpent

A follow-up to the above fic; the “good boy” lives rent free in my brain. A roleplay Wulian fic with a twist ending.

Against All Odds by yuushoku

A really sweet royalty AU where Hua Cheng has to pass three trials to wed Xie Lian. Comfort read.

bring a light by uraa

A cute wangxian/hualian crossover!

charcoal daydreams by beesinspades

One of the first fics I read for this fandom! The first tgcf fic I ever downloaded! Artist HC runs into his old crush when XL applies to be his model.

steady love (in a place we know) by beesinspades

Hurts my heart but in a good way; it’s like missing someone who’s right in front of you. Hualian go on a road trip.

Is he, you know, a follower of Ju Yang? by airawyn

Very cute! Love the fengqing dynamic and banter!

Your Touch Means Everything to Me by fayleen

Love the tension in this one! A canon-divergent first kiss after the Banyue arc.

The State of You by peppaspray

Hot and sweet! Hua Cheng trying to seduce his husband in different forms.

to be seen by blessinglanterns

An interesting look at Hua Cheng coming back from being dispersed on Tonglu. Very sweet.

If you love me for me by fullmetalpotterhead

A really adorable royalty AU where Hua Cheng needs to marry Xie Lian for political reasons but quickly falls in love with him after he disguises himself in order to meet XL before their wedding.

[oh-no-its-bird]

The following program is brought to u from the depths of the nin-burger server w the help of @ohai-there, who's additions are marked by indented text

Mm. Into the Kakashiverse fic. Many Kakashi's. All the Kakashi's.

Its told from Obito's POV actually and it's just 10k of him losing his goddamn mind over all the Kakashi's

@ohai-there :

huff huff huff

something goes wrong with his kamui and all manner of kakashis come falling out of his eye

Oh my god

Some of the Kakashi's are legit fighting over him and some just don't care

The little yokai kid Kakashi ends up being his guide into Kashiland or smthn idk

Trying to help him get back home

it happens every time obito thinks about kakashi too strongly

there are like hundreds of him within the day

He's thinking ab Kakashi ALL THE TIME

He can't turn it off !!!!

hes just mentally ill like that

Kakashi plague. Its terminal.

....he doesn't want to get better anyways

He is surrounded by infinite Kakashi's. Kakashi no jutsu

thaats so real of him,,,,

He can summon bunny suit Kakashi at a whim

bunny suit kakashi is the most often summoned...

You know that "go for it XXX!" Draw ur character here meme?

That but it's "go for it Obito!" And all the Kakashi faces are different Kakashi's from the ✨ Kakashiverse ✨

Ok so um. Um.

Yokai kid Kakashi borrowing from @ohai-there's design. Who's a little dimension hopper, who also lost his dad (who is also a dimension hopper)

And he's like. Hopping from world to world looking for his dad, right? And whenever he world hops he usually goes to that worlds Kakashi for help / bc Sakumo might be w him

And somewhere along the way he runs into our Obito and somehow gets Obito to agree to help him (the why and how doesn't matter)

But now it's Obito on a multiversity journey lead by a little yokai kid kakashi. Meeting all these different versions of Kakashi and losing his mind ab it

I'm picturing the actual dimension travel as like. Wandering down a dark corridor between worlds with kakashi holding a lamp, guiding the way

(Easy for Obito to wander off the path and get lost and end up in a new world)

Kid Kakashi is pouting and going "you're supposed to help me find tou-san!! Not get lost yourself >:("

Maybe Sakumo lost his own lamp which is why Kakashi is looking for him, he's presumably lost his guiding light back

like its so dark that obito's brain starts making up The Horrors while little kid yokai kakashi is just

:3

as they walk

YES. PERFECT.

"Don't look in the dark too long, your puny mortal mind won't like it"

poor sakumo,,,

he lost his kid and now hes lost himself 😔

There's a metaphor somewhere in there ab Sakumo always losing himself no matter the circumstances/world

fr

bro cant get a break

and kakashis always the one picking up the pieces 😔

Thinking . Whatever kind of yokai they are can access the path between worlds + are (mostly) immune to the horrors that lurk there

But their family has the special lamps that they need to actually know what they're going, so without that it's fucking useless to try and get wherever ur going, you will be lost forever, never able to find the world u want to find

You can stumble out into other worlds and all but like.

You have no control of it

And there's a decent chance you'll get trapped in the dark anyways so it's best to just stay put in the first world u find

Which is presumably what Sakumo's doing

thats so real of him

u know how u tell children if ur lost just stay there and ur parents will come find u

Its that but opposite

Dw Sakumo, Kakashi will find you! Hopefully.

hopefully,,,,

+ 1 obito

Kakashi following little broken fragments of his father's shattered lantern where Sakumo's made a path of where he's been

Following the breadcrumbs,,,

+1 obito! Can't forget him!

what kind of a universe is sakumo waiting in....

Kakashi is living in a grim dark fairy tail ab following the magic breadcrumbs to find his missing father he's been searching for for a long time now

Meanwhile Obito is living it up in a moderately horny crack fic eyeing up bunny suit Kakashi's and having a seizure over a world where Kakashi is in love with him and comes on real strong when they bump into eachother the first time

the genre is a matter of perspective fr....

also obito being sooo tempted to want to stay in the universe where kakashi loves him so openly

but then little kakashi just :(

obito: 😬 shit. ok let's go

Obito has Kakashi's THROWING themselves at him but he can't abandon babykashi's quest 😔

But later..........

later,,,,

Surely he can come back with kamui

Surely

OBITO KAKASHIVERSE SEX TOUR AB TO HIT UP EVERY OPEN AND WILLING KAKASHI IN THE MULTIVERSE 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️ ‼️‼️‼️

🗣️ 🗣️ 🗣️

hes keeping a mental note of the path he had to take!!! of the vibes of each universe!!!

He had his sharingan ON when tracing the paths between worlds

And yeah, maybe he burned some of The Horrors Between Worlds into his brain forever bc of it. But you know what ELSE he burned into his brain??

IT WAS WORTH IT

what time obito is it too

post war??? he manages to survive somehow??? Or like when hes still doing his tobi thing

Tobi I think just bc hes at his most insane ab Kakashi

Peak humor and internal turmoil

based af,,,,

Tobi is being mistaken for the worlds real Obito in a world where Kakashi and him are married and just going w it. Yes, it is he. Ur husband. Who u married. Bc u are in love with him. And married. (Distant screaming noises)

Actually. Completely unrelated fic where Kamui allows Obito to dimension travel and he uses it to go to a dimension where him and Kakashi are married. And then he fucking murders the Obito there and takes his place, the end

Waaa art time!! Ohai also drew their own (honestly insane, beautiful, and tbb kind of stunning) piece [HERE] which you should look at immediatley.

Um. Um. Something about how Kakashi and Sakumo wear smthn over their eyes. And like how they're immune to the whole "Witnessing the horrors between worlds" thing. And like. Idk, implications there.

Are they truly immune to the horrors or is it the talismans on their faces that protect them? Who knows

immune to the horrors but also not immune to being lost without light

I'm gonna throw up !!!

Maybe the real lantern......was the light they made along the way........and when Sakumo lost his light....it was bc he lost kakashi...or smthn...

Is the lantern a metaphor for the will to live

It might be, who knows

kakashi wont lose his lantern as long as hes trying to find his dad,,

UGH!!! He starts to give up and his lantern cracks a little

STOP UR MAKING ME WANT TO MAKE THIS AN ACTUAL FIC WITH NAARATIVE I CANT DO THIS

Anyways. Final thoughts :

Obito living his best life in this one.

[mqrrstarr]

Hi!! ‘Tis the season! Can I request how Geta and Caracalla (separate please) celebrates Christmas (or really Saturnalia) with you? Any gifts of special moments they’d strive to create? I know they throw one hell of anChristmas party- Tysm !!

A/N: YIPPIE! MY FIRST REQUEST THANK YOU DEAR PERSON!! I’m going to write for my glorious emperor Caracalla bc he’s my precious angel and he’s such a cutie in my eyes who deserves all the love he can get. Will post a Geta version after!! - xoxo mqrrstarr

Christmas With The Emperor (1/2)

Emperor Caracalla x GN! Reader

how Caracalla would celebrate the holidays (Saturnalia / Christmas) with you!

Warnings: not edited, and it’s like half headcanons and half story, also I wrote about it Saturnalia first and then Christmas!!

GO READ GETA’S VERSION!!

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Caracalla enjoyed spending time with you.

His cherished partner, the one who vowed to love forever. The holidays had come around in Rome, and Saturnalia was all the rage. Outside the palace and in the streets were lines of vendors, performers, and even cooks who were eager to feed the public. Caracalla always took comfort in this period of celebration, and as a devotee to Saturn.

“Darling, are you ready to leave yet? I don’t want to miss any of the activities!”

The man was giddy with excitement, and eager to see you in newly made red, purple and golden clothes, the traditional Saturnalia colors. You nodded and the both of you took off in Caracalla’s chariot with two guards along.

The wheels on the dirt roads guided you to where the main festivities took place, the sacrifices of young pigs to Saturn. Caracalla took your hand as you were his, and smiled as the public bowed down to the both of you.

“See? They bow to the most elite of Rome.”

He kissed you before providing his own sacrifice, a young pig provided by Geta. (Caracalla couldn’t bear the thought of killing his own pig, so hence Geta supplied it.)

Soon after, you left to go to the markets. You noticed how happy Caracalla was, his pale cheeks all rosy and his smile as giddy as a child in a candy store. It was good for him to feel this way. Signs of respect and gifts were thrown your way, and Caracalla eagerly accepted each and every one. You hesitated a little bit, as you did want to financially compensate the merchants.

“I suppose I must, Lord Saturn might ruin the Empire’s farming and harvest. Thank you for telling me.”

He’d give sacks of money to his guards to give the merchants, as he’d want to get home. Caracalla had spent time running around in the road and then wanted nothing but to eat and spend time with you.

“Darling. This was fun. Didn’t I tell you?”

He smiled.

“I’m eternally grateful to the Gods that they gifted me you, and that I live to witness our rule and life until the day it is over.”

He’s absolutely adorable and falls asleep in your arms. A few days later, it’s time for Christmas. The whole month of December was been exhausting. You’ve been busy helping Macrinus choose new gladiators, been meeting with the senate and Geta to figure out tax issues, and studying. On the other hand, Caracalla’s just been doing whatever Caracalla does.

Yet, Caracalla takes the time behind your back to get you the most lavish gifts ever. New robes, a shiny new pair of sandals, golden jewelry, and most importantly; himself.

You’d wake up after him, (which is surprising, as he usually wakes up after you) and he’d been sitting with the gifts under his tree.

(help I don’t think this is time period accurate but whatever)

“Surprise!! All the luxuries you wanted are here! Merry Christmas!”

He’d grab your hand and twirl you around, dancing in the room and kissing.

“I couldn’t ever imagine life without you.”

He paused for a second, clearly trying not to burst into tears. You caressed his face, as he looks up at you in this state and says,

“I love you. I know I am not worthy of your affection, yet you still give it. I thank you.”

You smile and reassure him that isn’t true. You take this chance to pull out your own secret gift for Caracalla and gift it to him. It’s a copy of his favorite childhood book, and a necklace made of both of your favorite gemstones.

This makes him burst into tears, and all you can do is hug him and cherish the moment between the both of you.

(GOD PLEASE HES SUCH A CUTIE 😭)

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about how fast logans hair grows and how naturally thick and shiny it is (lucky fuck) and while it started as something small, Wade mentioning how fluffy it is when tuffed out.

"Guess you're gonna cut it then?"

But his voice is kind of hoping he doesn't. It's not hard to tell either. Wade can't hide his adoration for Logan. He's never been able too. (And probably never will)

"Mmh.. Nah." Is all his says, but the brightness in Wade's eyes is everything.

He lets Wade take care of it. He lets him completely groom him, wash him, condition it, oil it, braid it, try different looks on him, like blowouts and curls. It makes him wonder how he knows these things. I mean, he's bald.

But he wasn't always bald, right? Duh. Vanessa mentions something about him doing her hair sometimes, helping her curl it and would help put her curlers in, etc.

It makes him wonder why he doesn't have an actual set. Why doesn't he get one glued or professionally put in. Cancer patiants got fake hair all the time, so what was the problem? It's not like they didn't have enough cash to pay for an installation.

As it gets longer, Wade is obsessed, showing it off and bragging how beautiful he is. He likes to drag his fingers through it, pull on it COUGH, pet him.

And don't get me wrong, Logan doesn't mind much, but it's getting a little too long than he likes. So much so that Gabby has started joking that Laura and him look the same. This isn't his issue, though. The problem is that it's touching his back in a way that makes him feel like someone is touching him. The curls at the ends brushing against his shoulder blades and makes his body hair raise from sensory.

Logan tilts his head, laying on the couch with Wade on his chest watching some trash tv.

".. Im gonna cut my hair later."

"What?"

"It's too long for me." He says.

"Oh... okay." Who was wade to tell him what to do with his body? Esspecially when he was engaged to a stripper. It would be hypocritical.

Before Logan leaves, Wade blows him a kiss. "Bye bye beautiful."

"Heh. Thanks."

"I was talking to those lushious locks, but you too gorgeous."

Logan rolls his eyes, scoffing softly, but stops.

"Change your mind?"

".... you were jealous of other yous hair... why don't you... you know?"

Wade blinks. "...well... wolvie.. when a daddy cancer and a mommy cancer-"

"That's not what I meant. I mean.. they have hair that you can glue on, right? Or.. does this universe not have that?"

"It does. I just... feels weird. You know? Itchy. And hurts. And.."

"You don't have to explain. So.. do you like clips or something??"

"...whyy?" He asks, becoming skeptical.

"Nothing.. just curious." Logan mumbled, leaving ".. Bye."

"See ya 'just curious'."

____

When he finally does return to the apartment, his kitty ears are clean, leaving his hair a bit thicker than when they met but not long enough to surpass his ears or chin.

From the kitchen, Wade whistles. "Well, Hello, sailor! Where's my husband? Whos this hot tom cat?"

Logan blushes, embaressed. Keeping his hand behind his back as he hugged him when glomped out of excitment. It wasn't uncommon for Wade to do this. To kiss the shit out of him when he got home, but the way he pulled at his lapels made him chuckle, pulling away.

"Okay okay, wait wait. I got something for you."

"Clip ins?" He asks, gasping softly and lit up when presented with a small box. "Oooh!! Presents! Peanut you shouldn't have!"

He shrugs. "Yeah.. well.. you liked it too much to not."

Pausing, Wade stares up at him with a sparkle in his eyes. "...You..."

Logan nods. Instantly, he begins to rip open the box, smiling widely before squealing. "Oh my god! Loagie!! Is this why you took forever? I thought you got lost on the way there or something..."

"Oh, I did, but.. that's besides the point."

"How much did these even cost to make?" He asks, looking at them fondly as he checks the quality.

"Don't worry about it. They're nice aren't they? I was actually shocked I could find someone to do it so quickly."

"Yeah! Its almost as if the writer is super lazy and didnt even research the process or how long it takes to make these! Oh- but...How am I going to wear them? You have to clip them. I can't really clip them to my scalp." Wade mutters, pouting.

Immediately, Logan frowns. "Oh shit.. I..i guess I didn't think about that. I thought you.."

Wade giggles. "I'm just kidding! Ill go clip them. I got a wig that'll look perfect with this!" He smiles, giddy as he runs away.

Logan grins, watching how excited and happy he was. Sighing, he glanced at the food Wade was starting to make, picking up where he left off.

____

"Sooo.. what do you think?"

Turning around, Logan smirks, eyes softening at the pure joy on his face. They fit perfectly into his already existing wig, making it thicker and shiny, soft and the it flowed the way real hair would.

"Ta-da!" He giggles. "And watch!!" He shakes his head around, flipping his hair and posed a few times. "I tried the halo extentions before, and they flew off! But they stay!"

"Yeah?" He asks, leaning back against the counter, so lovingly looking at the pure glitters in his excited eyes.

"Yeah!! Isn't it so cute? And its so soft!"

"And water resistant." He comments. "Soooo you like'em?"

"Yes!!! Of course I love them! And I love you." He comes to logan, hoping up as he grabs him, pulling him up to kiss him agaisnt the counter. Between kisses, giggles, groans and affectious compliments, Al crossed her arms, sitting at the table.

"Really? In front of my salad??.. nasties.."

[moonlightdreamzz]

late nights — bang chan, hyunjin, wooyoung, and niki. ♡

it feels so good to be seen and loved, especially after an exhausting day.

bang chan

truthfully, you don’t even know how you made it here in one piece—here, being chris’ studio. utterly exhausted doesn’t even begin to cover it, but the day is finally over, and you’re holding onto that small grace. not like you have much of a choice, right?

your eyes flutter shut for just a second as you lean against the door, the light thud startling you back to the moment. you laugh quietly at yourself, embarrassed by how ready your body was to believe this was the end of the day, before finally pushing the door open.

you and chris share the same curse: you work too hard, and far too much. so, it doesn’t surprise you to see him exactly as you left him this morning—headphones on, hunched over his computer, eyes flickering across the screen. even from the doorway, you can hear the bass pumping loud enough to feel it in your chest.

you weren’t planning on saying anything. the couch beside his desk had your name written all over it, and all you wanted was to curl up and let sleep take over until he was ready to leave. but somehow, you find enough strength to call out to him.

“baby.”

it’s almost immediate, the way his head snaps toward you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on yours. it’s like you’re the only thing in the world that matters. his headphones are off in seconds, tossed carelessly onto the desk. that alone tells you everything—he must think you look even worse than you feel.

he doesn’t say anything, just opens his arms wide, inviting you in. and how could you ever say no to him? you drag your feet across the room, collapsing into his lap without a second thought. his arms wrap around you tightly, and for the first time all day, you feel like you can finally exhale.

“you had a long day, didn’t you?” he murmurs, lips brushing your ear before pressing a soft kiss there.

all you can do is nod, burying yourself deeper into his neck. he smells just like he did this morning, warm and familiar, and it makes your chest ache in the best way. neither of you moves for what feels like forever, but it’s the kind of forever you could get used to. his touch says everything words can’t—how much he missed you, how much he hates seeing you this tired, how much he loves you.

you want to tell him you should go home, that you need a proper bed, but you can’t. you know how important his work is, and you’d never forgive yourself for making him feel guilty about staying.

but then his voice breaks the silence, low and soft. “i think i’m done for the night.”

your head snaps up, searching his face for any sign he’s joking. “no, baby. i’m fine. keep working,” you say quickly, even as your body betrays you and leans back into his chest. the guilt creeps up before you can stop it.

his thumb brushes your cheek, and his eyes lock on yours with so much tenderness it nearly knocks the wind out of you. “the only thing i want to do is go home, run you a bath, and hold you while you fall asleep. this can wait until tomorrow. you’re the most important thing to me, and i need you to know that.”

he kisses you softly, and when he pulls back, there’s a smile tugging at his lips. “besides,” he adds with a wink, “if i don’t take care of you, who’s going to remind me to take care of myself?”

hyunjin

you and your man were both terribly sleepy babies. no matter how hard you tried to stay awake for each other on late nights, one of you always gave in first. it was a routine by now: a simple “i love you” text signaling surrender to the pull of a memory foam mattress or an irresistibly soft couch. there was never any guilt, just understanding.

but this month? this month has been unrelenting. you’ve been in full girl boss mode, pushing through deadlines and back-to-back meetings, while hyunjin has been caught up in the chaos of a comeback. you can’t even remember the last time you sat down together for dinner, watched a show, or just existed in the same moment. you miss it. you miss him.

when his schedule was calmer, hyunjin stayed with you as much as he could. but now, the dorm has him locked down. as you punch in your door code, you sigh, already feeling the emptiness of your apartment. you wish he were here—even if it meant finding him passed out on the couch, mouth slightly open, barely coherent as you whispered him awake and tugged him to bed

tonight, though, there’s no detour. no lingering in the kitchen or collapsing on the couch. you head straight to your room, already peeling off your jacket as you close the door behind you. exhaustion weighs heavy on you, but something feels… off.

your heart stutters. someone’s here.

you freeze. open your eyes, idiot, you scold yourself. slowly, you do, and your breath catches in your throat

there, glowing like a dream, stands hyunjin. a bouquet of roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other, his smile stretching so wide his eyes crinkle shut. he’s radiant, like he stepped out of your imagination, but he’s real.

“baby,” you whisper, your voice trembling with disbelief. “what… how are you here? i thought—”

you don’t get the words out, too stunned to string them together. he steps closer, slow and steady, placing the roses and wine into your hands before cupping your face and kissing you, soft and sure. his lips feel like coming home

“i missed you,” he murmurs, his voice low and warm against your ear. “it’s been hell not being able to see you, touch you, hold you. i’ve been trying so hard to wait, but when i called you this morning and heard how tired you sounded… i had to be here. i couldn’t let you come home to an empty apartment tonight.

you melt into his arms, burying your face in his chest as his words sink in. “i knew it,” you say suddenly, pulling back just enough to meet his eyes, a teasing smirk spreading across your face. “you really can’t stay away from me. i’m irresistible, huh?”

he bursts out laughing, the sound warm and rich, making his whole body shake as he leans his forehead against yours. “shut up,” he grins, but his eyes are so full of love you can feel it in your bones.

The he cups your face again, pressing his lips back to yours in a kiss that feels like a promise. this one is different—hungrier, deeper, filled with everything he’s been holding back. his right hand gently takes the flowers and wine from you, tossing them onto the couch as if they’re the least important thing in the world.

“you’ve been stressed too, baby,” you murmur between kisses, your hands sliding up his chest as he pulls you closer. “you want me to make it better? take your mind off everything?”

“please,” he breathes, the single word trembling with desperation.

and that’s all it takes for the two of you to let go of everything else—the stress, the distance, the long days apart. tonight, it’s just you and him.

wooyoung

i know that the last conversation we had didn’t end on a good note. and i know you’re still trying to process everything going on with us and probably don’t want to see me. but I can’t help but feel like you’re exhausted and need something to take your mind off of everything you have going on right now. regardless of what we’re going through rn, i love you and I’ll always be here to make things better.

your heart aches as you read wooyoung’s text.

i’m outside. take your time. i’ll wait for you.

you didn’t think you’d hear from him tonight—not after the way your last conversation had ended. but that’s wooyoung, always showing up when you need him most, even when things between you feel fragile and uncertain.

you grab your jacket and step outside, the chill in the air catching you off guard. but then you see him, leaning against his car with his arms crossed, his hair a little messy, his expression soft despite the exhaustion etched into it.

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, it feels like the world stills.

without a word, he opens the car door for you. as you slide into the passenger seat, you feel the familiar warmth of his presence settle over you like a blanket. he gets in, shutting the door gently, and the two of you sit there, bathed in the soft glow of the dashboard lights.

“you didn’t have to come,” you whisper, your voice barely audible.

he turns to you, his gaze steady, his hand already reaching for yours. “yes, i did.” his tone is quiet but firm, like he needs you to believe it

his thumb rubs gentle circles against your skin, and it’s enough to unravel the tight knot in your chest.

“i know it’s been rough lately,” he says softly, his voice thick with emotion. “but no matter what we’re going through, i can’t stand the thought of you sitting at home feeling this way. you don’t have to go through this alone. i’m here. always.”

you close your eyes, his words sinking into the deepest parts of you.

he leans over, pulling you into his arms, and it’s like you’re a piece of a puzzle snapping into place. his embrace is so warm, so full of everything he can’t quite say, and you don’t realize how much you needed it until you’re here, breathing him in.

“you’re freezing,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple. “i should’ve brought a blanket.”

you let out a soft laugh, your breath brushing against his collarbone. “you’re the blanket.”

he smiles against your hair, holding you a little tighter. “good. then i’m not letting go.”

for a long time, you just sit there, his arms wrapped around you, his hand gently tracing soothing patterns along your back. it’s so quiet, but the silence is full of him—his love, his care, his determination to make sure you feel safe, even when things between you aren’t perfect.

“thank you for coming,” you whisper after a while, your voice muffled against his chest.

“i’ll always come,” he replies, his lips brushing against your forehead. “no matter what’s happening. you’re my person.”

you pull back just enough to look at him, your eyes meeting his, and in that moment, it feels like everything might actually be okay. whatever else you have to figure out, whatever else you have to say, you can face it together.

for now, this is enough. this is everything.

niki

the studio was quiet now, the kind of quiet that made you feel how tired you really were. your body ached, your mind felt heavy, and the only thing keeping you upright was the cool press of the mirror at your back.

you closed your eyes, just for a second, and let out a sigh.

“you always look like you’re about to fall apart after practice,” a familiar voice teased, pulling you out of your thoughts.

your eyes snapped open, and when you saw him standing there in the doorway, you actually laughed out loud.

“niki?” you said, your voice pitching higher in disbelief. “what the—how did you even get in here?”

he grinned, leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place, hands stuffed casually into his hoodie pockets. “i have my ways.”

“your ways?” you repeated, still laughing, though your exhaustion made it sound a little delirious. “what, did you sneak past security?”

he shrugged, his grin widening. “you’d be surprised what a little charm can do.”

“you’re ridiculous,” you muttered, shaking your head, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips.

niki stepped into the room then, pulling a takeout bag from behind his back like it was some big reveal. “anyway, i figured you might be hungry. you were going on and on about this the other day, so…”

you blinked at him, your chest tightening. “you remembered that?”

niki rolled his eyes, but there was a hint of a blush creeping up his neck. “obviously. i’m not as clueless as you think.”

he walked over and sat down beside you, his legs stretching out across the floor. the bag landed in your lap, and the smell alone was enough to make your stomach growl.

“you didn’t have to,” you murmured, though you were already pulling the container out.

“yeah, well,” he said, leaning back against the mirror with a shrug, “i wanted to.”

you looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, you forgot how exhausted you were. his face was calm, but his eyes were soft, like he was seeing you in a way no one else ever had.

“thanks, niki,” you said quietly.

he waved it off like it was nothing, but the tips of his ears were pink, and you knew him well enough to know what that meant.

“you worked hard today,” he said after a beat, his voice softer now. “but you always do.”

you smiled, but it felt bittersweet. “sometimes it doesn’t feel like enough.”

niki’s gaze sharpened, and he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “it is,” he said firmly. “you are.”

the words hung in the air, heavy and meaningful, and you didn’t know what to say. so you didn’t. you just opened the container, took a bite, and let the warmth of the food—and his presence—melt away the edges of your day.

he didn’t say anything else, just stayed there beside you, close enough that your shoulders brushed when one of you moved.

and maybe you were both too scared to say it out loud, too scared to ruin whatever this was, but in that moment, you knew: he was your safe place. and maybe, just maybe, you were his too.

[mixingandmelting]

Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?

Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.

A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔

Dick:

His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day,  it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.

Jason:

Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw.  It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.

Tim:

Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.

[minniebbang]

Always & forever | H. Jisung

pairing: Jisung x fem!reader

summary: silence in the air, it was odd. Something changed, he changed. Or maybe it was her who changed. Maybe, it was something else.

word counts: 1k words

genre: angst

a/n: I seriously think that physics is the main cause why I write so many angst stories. Never thought physics had that effect on me>>>. Also let me know what you think!

Shutting his eyes, his head remained on the headrest while a low but audible sigh escaped him. His hands had fallen from the steering wheel, finding comfort by his side as the wind from the air conditioner played with his hair. His heart heaved at the thought of starting the car and heading to the place — the one he knew by heart now.

The car suddenly sank, followed by a soft thud from the passenger’s door, but he remained still as a doll. His breath was stolen momentarily upon the sound.

No…he must have misheard it.

He unfolded his eyes and slowly turned his head to the side, his gaze clouded with a vague feeling, a feeling that she couldn't quite point. Feelings that rarely painted on his usually soft features.

She closed the door and beamed a small smile toward him — a smile oh so warm that could light up his days, once a beacon in his unknown path.

“Are you okay, Jisung?” Her hand reached for his hand and gently grasped it.

But her hands felt cold. Hollow of warmth.

A sharp pain struck his head and his hand jolted back, dropping out of her grip. His hands began quivering as they found their place on the steering wheel, gripping them tightly. Everything around him closed up, emerging into each other, creating distorted images. His chest raised in alarming rhythm as he tried to calm himself and gained control over his breathing again and she only could…watch.

Nothing else.

Stuck in the seat without any way to comfort her broken lover.

The sound of his phone pulled him back to reality. Picking it up, he hastily slid the green icon to the side and placed it to his ear.

“Hyung…” his voice echoed in her ear, a tone nearing breaking down, but he held on as long as he could. As long as the latter won't worry about him.

“Jisung, are you sure you're fine to go there?”

“Today is our anniversary, hyung. She will be happy to see me there”

The latter sighed “Alright, be careful. If anything, I’m here. ”

“I appreciate it, hyung”

He placed his phone back into his pocket and glanced at her once more before pulling the break, feet lightly stepping into the gear and leaving the house.

“Jisung..?” Her words hung in the thickening silent air.

No reply or bubbly humming, like he usually did.

He was an arm's length away from her.

But it felt like a concrete wall had built itself between them.

He was unreachable.

Her eyes searched for any remaining love in his orbs, but she found none. As if the person beside her was a stranger.

The radio was playing silently in the background. She raised the volume, and immediately, her eyes widened, looking at Jisung with excitement as the familiar beat bounced in the car.

“Hey, it's your song! I remember how nervous you were when you said this song is about me” A giggle bubbled out from her, but it faded when she saw tears pricking in the corner of his eyes; it hung there and never fell.

He was still holding on. Even though the thorns had embedded in his heart, causing it to bleed and slowly fall apart.

“It's our song, baby. You never accept that although I say it millions of times.” He whispered to himself. His heart ached at the memory, her giggle and smile.

She slumped back to the seat, hugging herself as the temperature around her dropped. The faint smell of the flowers wafted in the air — it was her favourite flower.

Soon, a graveyard rolled into his view and he parked the car beside a tree. Picking up the flowers on the back seat, he trudged his way to a place. She followed him closely from behind.

His steps stopped at a grave and the tears finally poured down to his cheeks.

The bits of his heart that he was collecting had fallen. He couldn't hold it anymore.

Her smile wavered as she peeked at her name carved into the gravestone.

Jisung settled on the grass, leaving the flowers beside her grave.

“Happy anniversary, baby. I’m sorry I was late. If I’m a bit early, you’re officially my wife, right?” He sniffled and smiled, a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

“How are you? I hope the angels are taking care of you. They probably take care of you better than I am” he chuckles dryly, a slight sympathy to himself.

She kneeled beside him and wanted to wipe his tears off but her fingers just slipped through his face.

Ah. Could someone give her another chance to take care of him again?

“I’m sorry, Y/N. I didn't save you”

“Why are you blaming yourself, Jisung? You try to save me…”

“If I cut my leg that day, will you be alive by now?”

“Baby…none of this is your fault.”

A conversation with death always ends up pointless. They couldn't reply to you but at least it would help you to move on, wasn't it?

The flashback of that day winded back in his head.

They were on their way to their wedding ceremony.

Moments later, their car was tumbling out of the road, rolling off the cliff.

His legs were stuck under the heavy tree branches but he was breathing, barely

One glance to the side, his bride was unconscious, shattered glasses stabbing her in various places.

He blinked and he was back at the grave, forced to stare at her grave again. Yet, she was still by his side, staring at her name and her death date, unmoved. Her heart was begging for her to stay

But she knew she couldn't stay here any longer. Not where she no longer belonged to earth.

Wrapping her arm around his waist, she rested her head on his shoulder, eyes closing as she felt herself vanishing, bits by bits, from reality.

“I love you, Jisung. Always and forever”

A warm wind brushed his cheeks out of sudden, bringing a fond smile to him amidst the running tears. Raising his chin, his gaze was met with the soft blue sky. A white butterfly landed on his cheeks, its wings flipping graciously and swiped the tears off.

A light giggle escaped him as he closed his eyes, the thorns in his heart had untangled themself, letting his heart beat with ease. After a while, the butterfly flew away.

“You're here earlier, aren't you? Thank you for the comfort. I love you, always and forever, Y/N”

[barren-heart]

I haven’t really made a post about my feelings on this season, other than i do like it and i do like the finale.

However, i do have a theory on this season that ive had for awhile but i felt like it was controversial to say.

I do think this season did feel slightly off but not in a bad way. Let me explain.

First, I want to say i like a lot of the ideas for this season.

I liked Guillermo “moving out” officially and “getting his own place.” I thought him living in the wank shed was funny and also getting a job in the human world was a good move. I hyperventilated when i saw he worked at Panera again.

I liked that the writers wrote in Natasia’s pregnancy with the Rosemary’s Baby bit. Nadja got to be around humans which i think she wanted to always do more of. She even became more sensitive to human issues even if she doesn’t experience those feelings exactly like humans herself.

I like when Laszlo invents and I’m glad he was able to do something that wasn’t really connected to the main plot. I like that seanie came back with Laszlo, although i missed seeing him in the finale (i did like the alt version with him.) I like the vampires getting their own side adventures and he got to do this with Colin, which was a plus. I like that we got some of his background with his dad.

I liked that Colin was feeling alone with the changing dynamics and how he came to get closer to the monster since both of them are different to the vampires.

I liked that they did bring up Nandor’s search for love again. I honestly never thought they would bring it up again. The batcave was fun and the janitor bit was funny. I liked Nandor’s army and I’m glad we could see his old warrior side again.

I like that Nandor and Guillermo reconnected and that Guillermo doesn’t leave forever. I always worried that would end the show with Guillermo saying goodbye to the vampires for good. I liked the fake-out ending where if someone wanted that ending, they got it. That was bittersweet enough for some people, and could have worked. But, i liked that he came back and that it showed us, the audience, that Guillermo is so aware of the cameras that he does hide things on camera. I like seeing Nandor and Guillermo’s first meeting.

I liked that the last scene was Nandor inviting Guillermo into his coffin and that the Newhart alternate ending is the one they use on streaming. I like that they were the married couple featured in it when it could have easily been any pairing on the show like Laszlo and Nadja or Charmaine and Seanie or even the monster and I don’t know…Jerry?? lol.

I did wish The Guide had more onscreen plot than Nandor’s kinda love interest and working with Jerry mostly offscreen, even though I’m glad they did show her love. I think i really missed her being involved in the main cast.

I would have loved if the gang had an arc together. I don’t believe the main A plot involved everyone until the end. There was a lot of side adventures (which is fun), which gets me to my theory…

I don’t think the show was supposed to end with season 6.

Yeah, I’m one of those that believes that the show was cancelled. I think they wrote season 6 with the intention to have a season 7.

I think Harvey and Kayvan’s interviews since the news broke convinced me. Especially Harvey being so heartbroken on Instagram and Kayvan mentioning a season 7 constantly. And now that they are both talking about a spin-off, it all makes sense.

I think this was just a normal season that they already wrote and when FX pulled the plug, the writers went back in and added a few things here and there.

So, yeah. Season 6 would have been their friendship era and then season 7 would’ve worked towards the romance era. Episode 10 does work as a season finale, but not a series finale.

The documentary crew ending the documentary IS SUCH A GOOD PLOT. I think it was funny that they just ended the documentary, but thought it would be funnier if they started that plot from the beginning of season 6. Imagine the vampires fighting over how to end the documentary.

Jerry could have been an episode later and he could have been killed off in the second to last episode.

I think the writers did write episode 11 as an add-on to finish the show, but it didn’t really connect with the rest of the season.

I don’t think the finale had a surprise twist at all. And this show is actually good at season finale twists. Guillermo is actually a vampire slayer?! Colin was dying and came back as a baby?! Guillermo turned into a vampire?!

Yeah, their arcs and twists are honestly really good and thought out.

But, i think whatever twist ending they had was written out. Which leads me to my old theory:

The Guillermo is an energy vampire theory.

I still actually believe this was true, or at least a version of it. Watching it with the lens of Guillermo becoming a/an (energy) vampire again makes sense as the surprise twist. Enough was laid out that it could have connected so easily.

But ending the show that way might not have worked well since i do think they needed a bit more time, and i think that’s why any vampire!Guillermo stuff was removed. Because they didn’t have time to finish it properly.

And it would have tied up Colin’s arc of loneliness. I didn’t mind him connecting with the monster (i liked it a lot actually!). It felt like they were gearing up for Colin and Guillermo to connect on some level, and connecting to Guillermo becoming an energy vampire would’ve worked pretty well. That would have connected those plots together.

I do believe they wanted to do more with Guillermo’s arc but starting too much would’ve made the season really really full.

Actually ending everyone’s arc probably would have done that, too. I want more energy vampire lore. I want more Nadja connecting to her roots. I want to know why The Guide is really magical and what’s her name??

I think they truly needed one or two more seasons for that to be honest.

Which leads me back to the Nandermo of it all, too.

I think season 6 was about Nandermo reconnection arc after season 5’s Nandermo breakup arc.

I think they wanted to have Nandor and Guillermo make up first and then work towards their romantic arc going forward.

And that makes sense to me. They spent the season making them equals. And that feels earned to me. They ended the season together as equals.

And by The Finale, it seems like the writers knew they couldn’t add enough to finish every arc. And I respect that tbh.

I would have wanted a little more time with Nandor and Guillermo reconnecting before they kissed.

I do think that was the reason for the Newhart ending. It was a fun little homage but it was a Nandermo nod without having to skip over the important romantic arc they didn’t have time for.

It left the series open enough that if they don’t do a spinoff, we can fill in the rest.

And that explains the Guillermo’s “secret affair” and “the secret Nandermo batcave” and Nandor caring about the cameras being gone.

However, I think they left it open so that if they had the chance, they could do a proper spin-off to work toward the Nandermo romance arc we deserve instead of closing that door forever.

TLDR: I like season 6, but i do think the show was cancelled by FX and that’s why it felt a little different. Hopefully we do get the Nandor and Guillermo spin-off and potentially another What We Do in the Shadows movie to wrap it up completely.

It doesn’t feel like the end, but a new beginning.

[koalapastries-writes]

drivers reaction to realising they’re the sugar baby/ they earn less money in the relationship haha

also i am deciding to become spoon anon (if it’s not taken haha)

it's not taken!

also sugar baby!drivers is an excellent concept. we should talk abt it a lot. please.

alex albon:

lowkey not surprised

you don't make a big deal about how much money you have/earn

you probably live like a (mostly) normal person who just happens to be able to afford to go to a lot of races

but there were clues

totally brags about it all the time

he probably doesn't spend your money all that much tbh

and he'll never admit how much he likes it when you buy him gifts for no reason

charles leclerc:

GIVE THIS MAN THE PRINCESS TREATMENT HE DESERVES!!!!

he's like that shocked pikachu face when he finds out

totally blindsided

i mean he knew you weren't struggling or anything but he never expected you to be earning more than him?

definitely questions the entire relationship dynamic lmao

and then very comfortably settles into his rightful role of passenger princess

you are the only person he'll let drive him around without freaking out

(also probably into pretending that he's actually your sugar baby when he sends you personal photos)

franco colapinto:

this boy talks abt being poor so much he probably assumed you made more money than he did

still probably only thought you made like a comfortable wage and not more than an actual f1 salary?

takes a longggggg time for him to be comfortable with you spending money on him

when he does though ... he gets so giggly whenever you give him presents istg

kinda loves that he can just pretend to be your trophy boyfriend

jenson button:

post-retirement he's surprised but like. it's much more feasible?

still takes him a minute to get his head around but then he's always teasing you about making you pay for dates and everything

pre-retirement though? he is a MENACE

he's using your card for literally everything and absolutely will not shut up about being a sugar baby to the other drivers (even though you're actually his boyfriend and not just his sugar daddy)

side note but he'd definitely be using your money to buy himself sex toys and stuff and then sending you cheeky texts thanking you for the 'gift' and a photo of him using it

kimi antonelli:

surprised but pleasantly

definitely holds it over ollie's head

loveloveloves being your trophy boyfriend

like he's a literal f1 driver now and he's walking around telling people about how his boyfriend bought him his dream (road) car

very cute

kimi raikkonen:

kinda doesn't care but still kinda likes it?

he doesn't want you to spend tons of money on him

but he likes that you could

also likes homemade things a lot more than if you bought him something mega expensive?

he'd take cooking together over a fancy restaurant any day

lance stroll:

did not think it was possible

and tbf neither did anyone else

the whole internet thought you were a gold digger

lance knew it was possibility but he was like. ykw he's hot and i love him idc.

and then he catches a glimpse of your bank account one day and his eyes nearly fall out of his head

kind of loses his mind a little bit?

can't talk to you without stuttering and blushing for DAYS

secretly likes it when you call him a princess

yes this is a reference to the "call me a pillow princess the way i sleep forever and ever" post

oscar piastri:

silently proud

lets you pay for everything (you WILL fight him for the cheque)

kinda loves that you just quietly take care of him?

won't really tell anyone other than his family and maybe logan because it came up once

you would definitely take care of his whole family at the drop of a hat

guys i think i may have fallen in love with sugar baby!drivers

[acourtofthought]

can you genuinely say at this point in time, Elain wants lucien? I'm not asking for theories or headcanons. I am asking if you genuinely think that Elain in any way is secretly pining over Lucien, and what textual evidence supports that.

People have argued about her mentioning his name, but I don't think that has to do with romantic feelings for him, moreso basic respect for another. People have talked about a "half-step" which I must've missed bc I do not even remember that - but i don't think a "half step" necessarily conveys anything romantic.

I'm trying to form an opinion in this ship war, but its hard when I see a ton of misinformation from every side. The elriels have their own faults, but they can point to text now that shows Elain wants Azriel.

Can Eluciens do the same? I'm not trying to start a fight, I really just want to know what portion of each ship is backed by the current books vs. how much is just people theorizing they are end game and what they want to happen. And if the Elucien ship is purely just "SJM will always pair fated mates together" that's also fine and valid imo, I just want to know if there's anything in the books you can point to that shows Elain wants Lucien at this moment in time. I don't want to argue about hypotheticals and foreshadowing and what a rose symbolizes. I want cold hard words on the page.

Please note: I know just because it might not be there YET doesn't mean it's not going to happen. I want to evaluate the current standing of these books and the rationality of each argument. But to do that, I need people to be honest about what's there and what's not. I'm asking you because you run one of the more...logical shipwar blogs. But if you don't want to answer this - I also understand why.

At this point in time I don't think that canon supports Elain wanting anyone and that includes both Az and Lucien.

The only person Elain ever confessed having feelings for is Graysen. Real feelings. The "my heart belongs to you" kind of feelings.

Elain specifically said she did not want a male or a mate and those are categories Lucien and Az fall under, despite the almost kiss with Az in SF. It's canon that a FMC in a SJM book can hook-up with a guy but not want a relationship with him (Feyre / Isaac, Nesta with fae who were not Cassian, Mor / Cassian, Mor / Helion) so Elain's actions in the Az bonus don't prove Elain wants him for more than a night of fun. In fact, the text in canon has her agreeing to "just a taste and that would be it". That's not a confession of long term commitment nor was there any to be found in any other interaction she's had with Az. Even crushes don't mean you're wanting forever with someone. Not to mention she was not written as looking towards either Az or Lucien in the 5 months after Solstice so absolutely no canon supports that she wants to hook-up with Az anymore. Elain's past actions from months ago (including those with Az) can't really be used as proof of canon of now, otherwise we should all be claiming she's still in love with Graysen since she never specifically stated she no longer has feelings for him. Nobody says that though, we use the canon of her no longer breaking down over Graysen to show she's moved past wanting to be with him and currently the canon suggests she's also moved past whatever she was about to do with Az on Solstice since there are zero signs to argue otherwise. There is also zero evidence of Az still wanting to be with Elain in any way now that we're 5 months beyond Solstice. 7 if you count HOFAS.

Right now I think the only thing canon truly supports is that Elain is showing no romantic interest in anyone, male or human. 5 months is a long time. Feyre left Tamlin then was mated to Rhys within 5 months and Elain was not mentioned as shedding a tear for Graysen in that same length of time, not mentioned as looking Az's way in that time, not having a reaction (good or bad) to Lucien in that time.

So to your question, canon does not support Elain wanting Lucien but it doesn't support her currently wanting Az. Canon also never supported her wanting to start a relationship with Az, canon doesn't support her wanting a mating bond with Az, canon doesn't support her having any desire to go forward with a forbidden love with Az.

Does that mean it's what she's actually feeling for Lucien or even Az? We can't say for sure because we don't have her POV but if we're truly basing this discussion off canon alone than Elain doesn't currently seem interested in anyone. It's not fair for e/riels to claim she still wants Az 5 months later as no canon supports it, that is their headcanon. Not to mention it's their headcanon she wanted to have a relationship with Az in the first place. There is no canon proving she'd be willing to seriously date him.

But as far as what I genuinely think (your phrasing)? I think Elain is struggling with the pull she feels towards Lucien and it scares her.

I don't think all Elucien's assume Sarah will pair Elucien together simply because they're mates. There are many layers behind what we feel.

I do think Elucien's use logic based on Sarah's writing and that logic tells us that characters don't simply ignore a mating bond. In canon, the bond creates a tug to the other that can never be truly forgotten. Based on that canon we hypothesis that there is a lot going on under the surface which is why she's hidden Elain's thoughts from us. She's the only main side character from the original cast who has never been given a POV and there's got to be a reason for that. Sarah was willing to share her almost kiss with Az but never her actual thoughts for Lucien who she suddenly began ignoring in ACOFAS after the events of ACOWAR and that seems a bit purposeful doesn't it? How a kiss isn't a secret but what she feels about the bond she says she doesn't want is?

While we've got no proof showing she wants Lucien, we were given so many examples of the author making an effort to show their compatibility. We were given a bunch of crumbs as to where Elain's future journey could take her and many crumbs placing Lucien in those same places. The author wrote Lucien (not Az) meeting Elain's father. We were given a bunch of scenarios where we're left wondering WHY Elain behaved a certain way towards Lucien especially after she defended him to Graysen, after she took a step as if she'd stop him from searching for Vassa, after she did follow he and Feyre instead of staying behind at her father's grave, after they were left together to wash up after the war, after she invited him to come back to Velaris but only after all that she began completely ignoring him for unexplained reasons. Based on Sarah's writing that pull and push typically means a character is struggling with her pull / desire for the other person and things aren't so one dimensional as "she doesn't like him!" If she didn't like him then why take a step as if to stop him? Why follow him instead of staying with her father's grave? Why peer up at him? Why invite him to Velaris?

We've been in this place before with a Sarah book. "Why did the character do that only to do an abrupt 180?" We saw it with Nesta, who was willing to die with Cassian in ACOWAR only to do the most 180's of all 180's by giving her virginity to someone else in the novella. To telling Cassian she wanted nothing to do with him though we knew she did. So Elucien's are only waiting to see how the author deals with Elain and her inner thoughts of Lucien. We don't think Elain's setup is going to be any less complex than Nesta's was. We believe the author is going to tell a story that is deep and meaningful. And while Elain's current setup doesn't prove this to us just yet, it is canon that Sarah has given that exact treatment to every single one of her mated pairs, whether the FMC was struggling with what she felt or the MMC (as we saw with Rowan and his bond with Aelin), so it would be silly for us to think Elain would be the only one who isn't given that same complexity.

While the textual evidence does not necessarily prove Elain has feelings for Lucien, I think it's valid for Elucien's to use textual evidence of Sarah's past writing patterns to predict the direction she's taking them.

I have no problem admitting that current canon doesn't prove Elain wants Lucien but I've never seen a e/riel admit that current canon, by the end of SF, also doesn't prove Elain wants Az. That canon never proved she wanted a relationship with him at all. Canon doesn't even prove she called his scars beautiful considering Feyre said she wasn't sure if she was referring to his Siphons yet they still hold on to that one.

Canon proves Elain loved Graysen though he was an asshole, canon proves that she was willing to hook up with Az with no proof of anything more, and canon proves that she shares a mating bond with Lucien that she'll never be able to completely forget ("it will be a bond that will trail her for the rest of her existence") though she's currently trying her best which results in weirdness for everyone. That is all the canon proves.

From a romance standpoint, only one of those storylines typically has staying power.

[theyhavetakenovermylife]

*slamming the table*

IF INSPIRATION STRIKES I NEED A PART 2 OF THE GHOST ONEEEEEE

In The Sight Of Ghosts: part 2 (18+)

TLR!Turtles (Michelangelo) x reader

Part 1 (Suggestive) (18+?)

A/N: *Slamming back on the table* Inspiration struck, so after a few days of writing, I have a part 2! Honestly, I think I can play around with this concept in many more stories to come. Stand alone one shots or something else, IDK. Only the future will tell. Anyway, hope you’ll enjoy🖤

Mikey is in his 40’s. The reader is in their early 20’s. Leo, Raph and Donnie are in their early to mid 20’s.

Warnings: Raph being gross I guess, age difference, mentioning of ghosts and dead brothers, ghost voyeurism, ghost instructions, ghost masturbation, spanking, doggy, mentioning of missionary, implied sex in the future. I think that was all, lol.

When Raph said he was going to find a way, he certainly meant it. It was now his personal goal to find a way to push Mikey over the limit in some way, so that he would - in Raph’s own words - finally dick out his frustrations. And he had no intentions of stopping, no matter how angry Mikey would get. No matter how hard Mikey tried to ignore him and his brothers. Raph just kept going. And it was always whenever you were around. Raph could never just leave you alone. Whenever you entered Mikey’s field of view, Raph was on you, doing some lewd acts that only Mikey and his brothers could see. If you passed Mikey in the hallway, Raph would make a show of making it look like he was about to pin you against the wall. If you stood somewhere in the room, Raph would walk up to you, and place his hands somewhere, making it look like he was groping you. Hands on your ass and chest, his ghost hands fondling you like an animal, smirking in the direction of Mikey and the others. And it made Mikey’s blood boil, trying his best not to watch as Raph acted like he was grinding your hips together in a lewd act. Mikey’s anger and frustration was so strong that even Leo and Donnie could see it.

“Maybe you should do it”, Donnie said, as Raph came with overplayed moans from the couch were you sat, holding your face and thrusting his hips like he was fucking your face, while you - totally unbothered - read the book in front of you. “You obviously find her interesting, and well… she is pretty”.

“Don’t you start as well”, Mikey groaned, just low enough so you wouldn’t hear it, leaning further down over the book that laid in front of him on the table.

“I’m only trying to help”, Donnie said, watching as Raph crouched down in front of you, trying to get a better look at your chest through your shirt. “And, well, if I was in your position, I might have done it by now”. That comment caused Mikey to give Donnie a look that could kill. Had Donnie actually been alive, this look might as well have been what killed him.

“Calm down, Mikey. Just ignore them”, Leo said, from his other side, with his shell facing the show Raph was trying to put on.

“You can’t ignore me forever”, Raph said, having taken a seat next to you on the couch, where he smoothed his hand over your hair, watching you like a predator would watch its prey. “Especially not the day when you start imagining my dick in her instead of yours”.

This comment seemed to trigger something within Mikey. If his blood was boiling, it was now bobbling over the lid. Mikey tried his best to restrain himself, but he just couldn’t, slamming the book in front of him shut, causing you to yelp in shock from the couch, looking at Mikey in shock. However Mikey avoided your eyes, quickly picking up the book from the table, before making his way to his room. You sat in confusion, watching as he left, unaware of the three ghosts that were hot on his heels, following him down the hallway.

He quickly hurried into his room before slamming the door behind him. With a growl he flung the book across the room, before slumping down on the bed, elbows on his knees, and his head in his hands.

“Seems like I touched a soft spot there”, Raph chuckled, earning him an eye roll from Leo.

“Just stop it, and leave her alone”, Mikey mumbled, still not looking up from the floor beneath him.

“Who are you talking to?”

Mikey flinched at the sound of your voice, looking up to find you in his doorway, slowly making your way into his room. The three ghosts stayed quiet, giving each other a look as if they knew something Mikey didn’t.

“No one”, Mikey said, rubbing his hands against the fabric of his overall. “Just… myself”.

“Ah”, you said, staying quiet for a moment. You looked at the door in thought, before you - to Mikey’s surprise - closed it. You turned and walked over to Mikey on the bed, before taking a seat next to him. This even made his brothers silent as they watched you with intent. Mikey felt his fingers getting clammy as he tried to avoid eye contact with you, suddenly finding the sight of the floor under his feet very interesting.

“Mikey… have I done something wrong?”, you suddenly asked, catching Mikey off guard. But the next part almost made his heart stop. “I’ve noticed you… looking at me. You seem… mad… So I was wondering if I did something”.

Mikey finally looked at you, staring directly into your beautiful eyes, feeling a pit opening in his stomach. It was never his intention… He never wanted you to think it was you he looked at… Oh god no…

“No”, Mikey said, shaking his head, ignoring Raph who started moving around out of the corner of his eye. “I’m not mad at you. You haven’t done anything wrong”.

“Then why are you looking at me… like you are?”, you asked, your voice so small it almost broke Mikey’s heart.

“It’s hard to explain… But I’m not mad at you, and I never have been, (Y/N)”.

You placed a hand on Mikey’s knee, almost making him choke on his own breath as he did so. It was then he noticed just how close you were to him. How you had been leaning closer, ever since you first took a seat next to him. The revelation made his heart beat hard and fast behind his plastron. That was when he noticed a smell. A wonderful smell taking over the room. What was that smell? Whatever it was, he wanted more of it.

“Can you at least try to explain it?”, you asked, your voice low and soft, sounding smooth in Mikey’s ear.

“I’m not sure how”, Mikey said, suddenly finding himself very fixated on your lips. How soft they looked and just how close they were. Just a little further, and he might just be able to… god, he really wanted to…

“You don’t have to use words”, you whispered, sending shivers throughout Mikey’s body.

“Kiss her”, Raph's voice suddenly sounded from somewhere to the side. “Come on Mikey. Kiss her”.

Mikey found himself continuously staring down at your lips, contemplating whether or not he should do it. It was so tempting. So tempting…

“He’s right, Mikey”, Leo said. “Do it. Kiss her”.

And with that, Mikey slowly leaned in, closing the gap between the two of you, connecting your lips in a soft kiss. You kissed him back less than a second later, turning your sweet kiss passionate in an instant, with one of your hands coming up to rest on Mikey’s plastron. The wonderful smell in the room grew stronger as Mikey’s big hands came to a rest on your hips, before slowly making their way up.

“You smell that?”, Donnie asked, sniffing around the room.

“Uuuh, she likes it”, Raph laughed. “Give her some tongue, Mikey. I bet she will love it”.

And finally, Mikey allowed himself to do as Raph told him, poking at your lips with his larger tongue, asking for entrance, while one of his hands came to rest on your cheek. You reacted with a sound, much closer to a moan than anything else, opening your mouth and granting him access. Without breaking the kiss you then rose ever so slightly from the bed, before making your way onto Mikey’s lap, straddling him as he leaned further into your increasingly needy kiss, letting small sounds of pleasure escape you.

“Shit”, Mikey heard Donnie mumble as he took in the sight before them, before taking a seat on a chair in the opposite side of the room.

Mikey placed his hands on your bottom as you slowly grinded yourself against him, allowing him to control and increase the speed at which you did it, your breathing becoming heavier and heavier.

“I knew she would be hot”, Raph said, taking a seat at the foot of the bed, so he could get a better look at you.

You then suddenly broke from the kiss, making Mikey fear for a moment that you had been able to hear Raph. But when you then reached for your shirt before pulling it off and throwing it across the room, letting it fly straight through Leo’s form, leaving your top half in nothing but an old see through bra, leaving very little to Mikey’s imagination. You gave Mikey a bright smile, before diving back down into your needy kiss, moaning against his mouth as one of his hands came to massage your breasts. Your hands started fumbling with the straps of Mikey’s overalls in order to undo them. Mikey’s hands moved from your chest to your pants, where he started pulling them down one leg after the other, before throwing them onto the chair Donnie was sitting on. You sat back down on Mikey’s lap, grinding against him once more, with your smell of arousal stronger than ever before. Mikey could feel himself as he was about to drop inside of his overalls, his thick member already aching to be inside of you.

“Time to see if that ass jiggles”, Raph said, his own hand groping at the forming bulge in his pants. And so Mikey did, letting his large hand come down on your left ass cheek with a loud smack, causing you to yelp out loud in pleasure.

“Mikey!”, you cried, letting your head fall to rest against his shoulder. “Please, Mikey, please”.

“Fuck”, Leo groaned, finding himself completely absorbed by what he was watching. “What’s she begging for?”

“Please what, (Y/N)?”, Mikey asked, smoothing his hand over where he had just slapped you.

“Please just fuck me, Mikey!”, you begged.

“Holy shit”, Donnie exclaimed from his chair, where he too had started to feel himself through his pants, all while Leo stood in total silence, his eyes fixated on you and your movements.

“Tell her to get naked”, Raph said, getting ready to pull himself out of his pants. “Ass up”.

Mikey did just as Raph had told him, and gave your ass another smack, before telling you to get naked and get on the bed. You stood up with no hesitation, taking your bra and underwear off in eagerness, before getting on your knees and elbows on Mikey’s bed, unaware that you were facing directly towards Raph.

Mikey made quick work of his overalls, taking in the way your eyes widened when you saw his member spring free from its confinements. And if it was even possible, the scent of your arousal grew stronger once more. Mikey got behind you on the bed, taking in the sight of your juice cunt before him, already feeling dizzy at the thought of you around him. The sight of you, mixed with your scent and under wonderful sounds, Mikey felt his own urge and need growing within him, getting more and more desperate to feel you clench around him.

Mikey placed a hand on your left cheek, before grabbing a hold of his member with the other, guiding it through your folds, picking up your slickness as he went, before giving your ass a sudden slap, causing you to let out another needy moan, begging him once again, your hands gripping onto the sheets of his bed beneath you.

“Please, Mikey! Please!”

With a groan at the sound of your begging, Mikey began pushing himself into your tight hole, moaning when he felt your walls tightening around him. You let out a flurry of lewd sounds as you took in Mikey’s massive size, sinking further and further into you. Mikey’s eyes were glued to the sight of his member slowly disappearing into you, using his hold on your hips to sink you further along his length. However, should Mikey have taken his eyes off of you and looked to Raphael, he would have found the ghost with his member in his hand, slowly working his hand along it as he focused in on your pleasured expression. At the other side of the room, Donnie too was about to wrap his own hand around his member, eyes intently locked on you. Leo was the only one that still hadn’t opened or pulled off his pants, yet his dilated and hungry eyes never left you.

Mikey stayed still inside of you, letting you get used to his impressive size. But when you started wiggling and swaying your hips in front of Mikey, showing him just how needy and inpatient you were getting.

“Ask her what she wants”, Leo suddenly said, his voice low as he spoke, obviously affected by what he was watching.

Mikey started rubbing your behind, keadling you flesh in his large hands. “What do you want me to do, (Y/N)?”, he asked, taking joy in how you started shaking in his hands. “Use your words”.

“Please, just move, Mikey”, you whimpered, trying to back yourself up against him. “Move. Fuck me. Use me”.

“Holy shit. She’s a freak”, Raph said in a smug tone, his hand speeding up ever so slightly. “She deserves a good fucking”.

Mikey’s hand came down on your cheek once more, drawing a loud moan from you once more, clenching further around him. “Of course, when you ask me so nicely”, Mikey said, slowly pulling himself halfway out of you. “I’m going to fuck you untill you can’t walk or talk anymore”. And before you could react to Mikey’s words, he rammed directly back into you. You let out a moan like scream, your face falling to your mattress with your eyes closed and Mikey continued thrusting into you, bringing you large sparks of pleasure with each thrust into you.

Donnie cursed under his breath, his hand moving faster against himself. Raph stared at you with parted lips and hungry eyes, dreaming of what it would feel like to be the one fucking you from behind. Leo still stood with crossed arms and an intense look on his eyes, when suddenly…

“She wants to be used, Mikey”, Leo said. “Spank her again. Show her she’s being used”.

And Mikey did, drawing an almost animalistic sound of pleasure from you when his hand made contact with your skin once more.

“And it continues to jiggle”, Raph chuckled, watching your flesh bounce with every slap, and every time Mikey thrusted against it.

You rested your forehead against your right forearm, reaching down between your legs with your left hand, where you let your fingertips glide over your clit, rubbing it as Mikey increased his speed on you, the sound of skin slapping echoing through the room, bouncing against the stone walls.

“Mikey, I’m close”, you whimpered, your legs getting shaky underneath you.

“Let it happen, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned, keeping his brutal speed as he fucked you closer and closer to your orgasm.

"Grab her hair”, Donnie’s voice sounded, his voice somewhat wavering from his hand’s work on his member. “Let us see her face”.

And so Mikey did as asked, and grabbed a firm grip at the base at the roots of your hair, before pulling your head up and back from the mattress. This resulted in a clearing of your vocal ways, causing you to get much louder. Your back naturally arched downwards, causing you to back up against Mikey, making each of his thrusts into you much harder than the last. Your hands frantically grabbed for the sheets beneath you, trying to hold onto something as your high came rolling, threatening to crash into you at any moment, your moans coming out as begging like screams.

The ghosts watched you with intensity, trying to match the movements of their hands to the speed at which you where getting fucked, imagining themselves in Mikey’s place, taking you from behind. Leo shifted his legs where he stood, as if trying to act like he wasn’t getting affected by the sight before him. Like he wasn’t imagining how you would feel around him, screaming that you were about to cum.

“I’m cumming!”, you yelled out, your hips squirming against the snaps of Mikey’s hips, as he continuously hit your sweet spot with no signs of slowing down. “I’m cumming, Mikey!”

“Cum for me, (Y/N)”, Mikey groaned. “Cum on my cock. Show me how good I’m fucking you”.

And so you did, your orgasm coming crashing down upon you, your walls clenching around Mikey as he continued to pound into you. Raph and Donnie let out audible groans at the sight and sound of you, taking in all of your beauty and raw pleasure. If only they could be the ones making you feel such pleasure, and have you squirming and moaning at the end of their cocks.

Letting go of your hair, Mikey let you fall back down to the mattress, moaning as you felt the waves of your high still washing over you. Slowing down his thrusts, Mikey kept himself up above you, slowly pushing in and out of you, savoring the feeling of you around him. Even from his few of your back and the side profile of your face, you were beautiful, shining in the light of your slowly subsiding orgasm.

Slowly Mikey pulled out of you, his member still fully erect, begging to be buried within you again. No matter how much Mikey wanted to keep going, and fuck you further into oblivion, releasing himself into you, Mikey decided against it. You were probably tired and in need of a break. He could wait. Your comfort was more important than his pleasure. He couldn’t force you-.

“Mikey”, you whimpered from below him, looking over your shoulder with pink cheeks and disheveled hair, out of breath with a sultry smile on your lips as you lifted your ass up against him, as if to present yourself for him once more. “Please don’t stop now, Mikey”.

Mikey was shocked. Extremely turned on but shocked. And judging from the choked sounds of Raph and Donnie, so were they, not expecting you to still have energy for more. Leo seemed to be the only one that wasn’t shocked.

“You heard her”, Leo said, arms still crossed with a stern look on his face. “Get her on her back and give her what she wants”.

Leo didn’t have to say that twice. Mikey was quick to grab a hold of one of one leg and one arm, flipping you onto your back in one throw. You yelped, followed by laughter, laying fucked, naked and smiling before Mikey, your legs open and inviting for him. And it was at this moment, staring down at your beautiful body, just before diving straight back into you again, that Mikey wondered why he waited so long. Why he had let Raph get his blood boiling for so long, instead of just taking you straight in the kitchen all those days ago. But now, he wasn’t going to let another opportunity go. So there, right in front of the ghostly forms of his brothers, Mikey fucked you right into the matteress, determinded to make up for the many days he had waited, before feeling your warm cunt around him and your desperate moans in his ear.

And so, you and Mikey continued your lewd dance of arms and legs tangled together, all in front of the watchful eyes of Mikey’s dead brothers, long into the night and again the next morning, and many more occasions to come.