#formatting this on my phone was how do you say.... a fucking nightmare

[choke-me-joey]

Matching Tattoos Part II

Read Part I here

Eddie Munson x reader

Content warning: 18+ content minors DNI, smutty smutty smut smut, just porn with a little bit of plot, oral (f receiving), squirting, unprotected sex (kinda), creampie, these two are adorable as fuck, less tattoos more fuckin', fluffy throughout, idiots in love, (will format later cos on a phone it's a pain in the ass)

It had been a week since the tattoo incident. And the blowjob incident. And the whole "You get to keep me" thing.

And both you and Eddie were on Cloud 9.

It was impossible to miss, not only because you were all over each other, but even when you were across the room from each other, you couldn't stop sneaking glances and smiles.

"God, you're both gross." Robin groans, rolling her eyes as you lean over the counter of the video store to smile at Eddie as he browses the horror section waiting for you to finish your shift the following Friday night. Steve yanks you back by the waist of your jeans.

"Agreed. Can you stop making googly eyes at your boyfriend for 5 minutes, Y/N? The rom com section needs reorganising." He grumbles, sitting down and stuffing a Twizzler in his mouth.

"And you can't do it because...?" You snip, folding your arms over your chest and looking him up and down.

He gestures to himself as if to say "duh!" and you kick his chair.

"Oh come on Steve, it's her big night tonight, let the girl relax a little." smirks Robin and you glance at her, wide eyed, making short choppy motions over your neck in an attempt get her to shut the fuck up.

"Seriously?! Jeez, I thought you and Munson were already banging, didn't know you were waiting. What's the special occasion?" Steve asks through a mouthful of candy. Robin scoffs and shoves him.

"It's a Friday night and Eddie's uncle is working a double tonight meaning we can be uninterrupted." You shrug. "Not all of us bang on the first date, Steve."

"No, some of us just suck di-"

"What's up Harrington, Buckley?" Eddie grins, meandering over to the counter with a few tapes in his hands. He grins at you, placing the tapes down onto the counter. "Hey, babe."

"Babe?!" Robin and Steve audibly gag as you and Eddie share a simple, sweet kiss. Without breaking the kiss, you flip your friends off.

"So gross." complains Steve as you and Eddie break apart, grinning like fools. "Do you have to rub your new perfect relationship in the faces of the painfully single?"

"What's the matter, Harrington? Jealous that the freak of Hawkins has a smokin' hot babe and you don't?" Eddie teases. "Don't worry, big boy, we'll hook you up with someone."

"Fuck off." Steve grumbles. He looks at you. "You know your shift doesn't end for another 3 hours, and the rom com section still needs reorganising."

"Ugh fine, let me check Eddie out first." You huff, turning to your stupidly handsome boyfriend.

"Didn't you do that enough whilst I was perusing, babe?" He smirks.

"Not enough if you ask me." You deliberately run your eyes over him slowly, biting your lip.

"Fuck, I can't wait for tonight." Eddie groans to you quietly, reaching for your hand and squeezing it.

"Me neither." You whisper, squeezing back. You shuffle through the tapes. "Did you pick out some decent movies we won't be watching?"

"Only the best babe, Halloween, Texas Chainsaw, A Nightmare on Elm Street and The Thing. Classics that I know you've seen so you won't be too mad about missing parts."

"You're the best." You grin, pecking his lips again before proceeding to check him out. In the professional sense.

And a little bit more in the non-professional sense.

"Thanks, sweetheart. I'll pick you up at 7, okay?"

"Sounds perfect, stud."

*

7pm rolls around and you can't clock out quick enough, barely garbling out a goodbye to Steve and Robin.

"Use protection!" Robin calls, and you flip her off before you're out the door and diving into Eddie's van.

Your boyfriend chuckles at your eagerness as he leans over the console to kiss you.

"There's my pretty baby, how was the rest of your shift?"

"Excruciating, agony, torture."

"Sounds like a good time." Eddie grins, pulling out of the strip mall parking lot and beginning the 10 minute drive to his trailer. His hand leaves the gearstick and finds your thigh, resting on it. "I missed you, sweetheart."

"I missed you too," you smile, squeezing his hand. "Get up to anything good whilst I was gone?"

"You'll see," Eddie smirks, linking his fingers through yours and bringing your hair to his lips and kissing it.

When you pull up to the trailer, Eddie insists on opening your door for you, helping you out of the van and even holding the trailer door open with a little bow and a "m'lady". You laugh, curtseying and replying "kind sir" before stepping into the trailer.

You stop in your tracks. The trailer is the cleanest you'd ever seen it in all the years of knowing Eddie and his uncle. There isn't an ash tray, beer bottle or empty coffee cup to be seen. On the counter there's a small bunch of flowers in a mason jar full of water - you noted that they looked extremely similar to the wildflowers you'd been admiring on yours and Eddie's 'special smoking walk' you'd taken last weekend. And instead of the usual 'Munson' scent that hits you, you get a waft of...crisp apple?

"Eddie did you...did you light a candle? Did you buy a candle??"

"I may have." Eddie leans against the cabinets with his arms folded across his chest, smiling. "Had to make an effort for you, princess."

"You absolutely did not, but I'm appreciative nonetheless. Does the cleanliness extend to your bedroom, or...?"

"Already wanting to take this to the bedroom, huh?" He smirks, letting you drag him by the hand down the small hallway. You open his bedroom door, gasping at the sight in front of you. Eddie stands behind you, arms wrapped around your waist and chin resting on your shoulder as you take it all in.

Eddie's room was SPOTLESS. Every single piece of clothing was picked up off the floor and in the laundry hamper, the tops of his dressers and bedside table were immaculate, the bedsheets were...Holy shit, they were new. And he actually had two pillows laid out instead of one deformed lump in the middle of his bed. And an actual comforter.

"Holy shit." You breathe out a laugh of disbelief, and Eddie chuckles into your shoulder, peppering kisses over it and up your neck to your cheek. "You have been busy."

"Wanted to make tonight special." Eddie mumbles against your skin, making you hum softly.

"You didn't need to, babe. I'd fuck you in the back of your van parked up on the side of the road. I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

Eddie's eyes widen. "We are going to have to explore that at a later time. For now though..." he spins you around in his arms and walks you backwards until the backs of your knees hit his bed, causing you to fall down. He kicks the door shut behind him and presses play on his tape deck, Home Sweet Home by Motley Crüe starting up.

You sit on the bed giggling as Eddie begins to serenade you along with Vince Neil.

"...take me to your heart, feel me in your bones, just one more night, and I'm coming off this long and winding road" Eddie croons, slowly walking over to you and standing in front of you. "I'm on my way, I'm on my way, home sweet home, tonight- woah!"

You interrupt him by pulling him by his belt loops closer to you, he loses his balance and falls on top of you, both of you laughing like idiots. Eddie pushes himself up onto his arms, smiling down at you.

"What?" You smile, feeling a blush creep over your cheeks. He reaches and brushes some hair away from your face.

"Nothing, you're just...really fucking beautiful." He says softly. You pout at how cute he is, reaching up to kiss his lips.

"So are you." You reply, and he scoffs playfully. "Eddie?"

"Hmm?"

"Kiss me."

He does, kissing you slowly and deep. You moan as his tongue finds its way into your mouth, revelling in the taste of him. The kisses get deeper, wetter, nastier and your bodies start to grind against one another as you paw at each other.

"What-what about the movies?" Eddie pants into your mouth as you tug at the hem of his shirt, trying to get it off.

"Fuck the movies, seen 'em before anyway." You tug harder at this shirt. "Off."

"Yes ma'am." Eddie chuckles, sitting up and stripping off his shirt. Yours quickly follows, as well as both of your jeans, leaving you in your underwear. You bite your lip at the sight of Eddie's cock straining against his plaid boxers. You both scooch further up the bed, Eddie lying you down on the new, plump pillows, before laying his body against yours once more, his mouth finding yours again.

You rock your hips experimentally against his, the thin material of your underwear and his not doing much to dull the sensation. Eddie moans loudly into your mouth. Your pussy clenches at the sound, his moans were something you'd missed since last weekend, but had definitely replayed in your head when you'd fucked yourself with your fingers throughout the week.

"Easy, princess, you keep doing that and I'm gonna need a breather." Eddie mumbles, trailing his lips over your jaw and neck, sucking gently on your collarbone. "Besides..." he pings your bra strap. "I'm dyin' to get this off you."

You laugh, unclasping your bra and allowing your breasts to spill free.

Eddie curses, his eyes going straight to your tits. He cups them in his hands, thumbs ghosting over your nipples.

"Hello, ladies." He mumbles and your laugh is quickly replaced by a gasp as Eddie leans down and licks over your nipple, wrapping his lips around it and sucking. You whine, the flicks of his tongue sending spikes of arousal straight to your cunt. "Fuck, your tits are perfect." Eddie breathes against your skin, leaving a damp trail across your chest as he moves to the other one, rolling your neglected nipple between his fingers. He gives you a little pinch, making you cry out in pleasure.

"Eddie, please!" You whimper, desperately trying to grind your clothed pussy against his cock, needing any sort of friction to ease the ache between your legs.

"Ah, ah, ah, baby, calm down. I'll take care of you, okay? Just enjoying myself right now. And I know you are too, can feel you soaking through those pretty little panties already." You make another pathetic whining noise. "I didn't peg you for a whiner, baby, it's pretty hot how desperate you are for me right now. Makes a change from all that sass you normally give me."

"Eddie, I swear to God-"

Eddie cups your pussy over your underwear, making you promptly shut up. He smirks, teasing you by gently running his fingers over your covered slit.

"Oh, baby, these panties are definitely ruined now. Guess I'll just have to keep them. You're soaked...is this all for me?"

"All for you, Eds," you gasp as he ghosts over your swollen clit. Your hips buck. "Please, Eddie, hurts."

"Aw, it hurts? Well, I can't have my baby in pain, now can I? Especially not after she did such a good job of taking care of me last weekend." Eddie practically rips off your underwear, his eyes travelling over your fully naked body for the first time. "Holy shit, baby...you're blowing my mind with how sexy you are. Hiding this body from me...should be a federal crime." He kisses you again, soft and sweet, then moves downward, pecking at your neck, shoulders, collarbones, inbetween your breasts and down onto your stomach. He chuckles as he kisses around your still healing tattoo. "Nice ink, toots."

"Thanks, some DnD nerd gave it to m-E!" Your sarky response quickly turns into a high pitched moan as Eddie nips your inner thigh.

"Some DnD nerd, huh? Would it be the same DnD nerd who's currently looking at the prettiest fucking pussy he's ever seen? Look at her baby, she's fucking drooling for me. Wonder if she tastes as sweet as she looks?"

Your hands ball into fists, twisting the comforter in your grip as Eddie licks a fat strip from your hole to your clit, leaving a trail of spit as he goes. You look down at the same second as he looks up at you, his eyes practically black with lust. The sight of him between your legs, your juices on his mouth is almost enough to send you over the edge as it is. Eddie grins at you again. "Even sweeter than she looks, baby."

You collapse back onto the pillows as Eddie dives face first into your pussy, tongue flicking and licking at your clit as he eats you like a man starved. He moans into you as you cry out his name, one of your hands reaching for his hair.

Without moving his mouth from your clit, he flicks his eyes up to you, holding up two of his fingers to your mouth. You open your mouth, sucking on his fingers as if they were his dick, hollowing out your cheeks and getting them as wet as possible (not that you needed any more lubrication, Eddie just had a thing for any part of him in your mouth). Once he's satisfied that you have them as wet as possible, he removes them from your mouth and wastes no time pushing them inside your aching cunt.

Your back arches upwards as you gasp out his name, his thick fingers filling you and his skilled tongue on your sensitive bundle of nerves making your eyes roll back in your skull. When he crooks his fingers up and strokes over that spongy spot on your walls, your thighs clamp around his head and he smirks against you, knowing he's definitely found the right spot.

"Eddie, fuck, don't stop, gunna make me cum," you whine. He sucks on your clit, his eyes on you and he strokes and strokes - "Oh my god, Eddie! Yes, baby, I'm cumming!"

A string of expletives leaves your lips, along with his name in a shriek as you cream on his face, your thighs shaking. He doesn't relent, finger fucking you through your orgasm and when you try to pull away when things become too sensitive, his other free hand pins your hips down to the bed. You're moaning uncontrollably, almost weeping with pleasure, the stimulation too much. "Eddie, I cant-"

His head suddenly pulls away from you and your hips try to chase his mouth. "You want me to fuck you?"

"W-what?" You ask, breathless and still a bit dumb from how hard your previous orgasm had hit you. "Y-yes, I want you to fuck me-"

"Then give me another." Eddie spanks your clit, making you squeal. "I know you've got one in there for me princess, cum again for me and I'll fuck you, okay?"

"Okay, okay," you sob, nodding. You almost choke as Eddie attaches his lips back to your clit and his fingers start fucking you again. The rate at which your orgasm builds up again is alarming; it's different. "Eddie, wait, wait, wait-"

He does anything but wait, in fact he pushes his fingers against your spot harder, and moves his tongue quicker. You feel it hit you, a white hot wave of pleasure and you definitely feel something shoot out of you. Eddie groans loudly, the lewd squelching noises filling the room as your body shakes.

You squirted. You fucking squirted. Something you'd only ever seen on those nasty pornos that Harrington lent Eddie from time to time. Something you didn't think you could actually do. And Eddie made you do it.

Eddie slows his movements down, removing his fingers from your twitching cunt and sucking them clean. His chin and neck are drenched with you and it's the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

"Still with me, angel?" He asks softly, pulling himself up over you again. You notice the wet patch on the front of his boxers has doubled in size since he went down on you.

"Where the fuck did you learn that?!" You manage to gasp out and Eddie chuckles.

"Natural talent baby. And Harrington's pornos he sneaks home from the video store. Not just for jerking off to, ya know, there's some educational shit in there too."

"Ugh, forget I asked." You mumble in disgust. Eddie laughs, but soon stops when you palm the front of his boxers, squeezing his cock. "I want this now, please, you promised."

"I did, didn't I baby?" Eddie reaches over into his bedside drawer for the box of rubbers he had in there. You slap his hand away and he looks at you in confusion.

"No condom, wanna feel you, Eds."

"Fuck, sweetheart, you can't say shit like that to me." Eddie groans. "You're on the pill, right?"

"No, Eddie, I'm willing to risk pregnancy to satisfy a breeding kink." You quip, rolling your eyes.

"You're lucky I love you so damn much, baby. Wouldn't let just anyone talk back to me like you do." Eddie mock huffs, shutting his drawer. You freeze. He then realises what he's said, and screws his eyes shut, dropping his head down. "Shit."

"You...love me?" You whisper, unable to stop the stupid grin spreading across your face. Eddie buries his face into your neck, groaning in embarrassment. "Eddie." You place your hands either side of his flushed face and make him look at you. "I love you too."

He opens his eyes and looks at you, his face softening.

"You do?"

"So damn much." You echo his words from seconds earlier. He grins, kissing you hard. You both manage to peel off his boxers and he grinds his cock against your wet pussy lips, teasingly dipping the head into your hole and pulling out. "Eddieee..."

"Say it again." He whispers against your lips, taking a hold of himself and lining his cock up with your hole.

"I love you." You whisper. "I love you."

"I love you, too." He replies, pushing his cock into you slowly. The stretch makes you shiver; he's definitely thicker and longer than anyone you'd ever been with. "Fuck, sweetheart, you're so...so fucking tight."

"Mm, Eddie, s'big," you mewl beneath him, nails biting into his shoulder blades.

"I know angel, but you're taking me so well. God, you look perfect right now."

You kiss him in response, moaning against him as he eventually bottoms out, his thick mushroom head already prodding your cervix. He starts to move slowly, pulling away from your mouth to look deep into your eyes. "So fucking beautiful."

"You too."

Eddie starts to move quicker, never taking his eyes from yours. You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper and the new angle making you cry out his name. This only spurs him on, his cock delving deeper and deeper into your pussy, the bed beginning to rock back and forth with his movements. Your moans fill the small room, along with Eddie's grunts and whispered praises to you.

"S'fucking good, baby, your pussy is fucking heaven, my beautiful baby, I love you, I love you."

"Eddie, I'm gonna cum again," you breathe out; his pelvis dragging over your clit had started building up another mind blowing orgasm.

"Yeah? Do it baby, wanna feel you cum for me, right on my cock, yeah?" Eddie's short of breath now, you can tell he's holding off his own orgasm just to feel yours first. "Oh shit, sweetheart, please, you're so fucking tight, gonna make me cum-"

"Cum with me, Eddie, fill me up-"

"Christ, I'm gonna cum, fuck, fuck-"

Eddie pushes his cock in to the hilt just as the coil in your belly snaps and you cum around him, both of you groaning out each other's names. His cock twitching inside you and the feel of his hot load filling you makes you sob in pleasure. He finds your mouth with his own, staying inside you for as long as he can, neither one of you wanting to break the connection just yet.

Eventually, his cock slips from you and you both let out mournful sighs. He rolls off of you, onto his back next to you.

"Holy shit." He pants, pushing his damp hair out of his eyes. "Holy fucking shit. Baby...that was-"

"The best sex you've ever had?" You grin, a teasing lilt to your voice. "Me too."

"Shit, yeah, you've ruined me for other women now." Eddie grins as you both roll on to your sides, looking at each other. You giggle, your fingers ghosting over the nearly healed tattoo on his hip.

"Baby, I've left my mark on you, no way other women are having you now."

He mimics you, gently touching the bat inked onto your skin.

"Guess matching tattoos were a good idea then."

Taglist for those who wanted a part 2:

@certain-tragedies @teary-eyed-egg @lulukings92 @elyssa-writes @spear-bearing-bi-witch @littlestarfighter03 @ooo-protean-ooo @wintermunsonreads @witchofhawkins @johntuckermustdie

[callooopie]

₊ ⊹ // Dull Abstracts, Duller Hearts \\ Micolash, Host of the Nightmare

“How essential to me, you have become.” - Sackville-West to Woolf

What’s Micolash to do, when his academic rival comes to sit by him to comfort him?

—

a/n: Have never written fanfic, only read it. This is really just a blurb I had to get out of my head is all. And for the most deranged and unhinged Bloodborne character at that 😵‍💫. So this is nothing too crazy, enjoy?

Warnings: allusions to gore(ish), metaphorical masochism(??), rushed ending(☹️), written on phone(format might be ugly and idk how to format in general)

Word Count: unknown

It wasn’t your fault you got that scholar all worked up over nothing. Well- to you it was nothing, to him it was everything. Once again your work, your research, was praised and accolades were given to you by master Willem. And once again, Micolash is left in the academic dust.

You find the man skulking by the lake, glittering in the moonlight. Dirtied boots kick at the dirt as you walk over to him from the entrance of Byrgenwerth.

“Moping again?”

You call out as you walk.

“Hardly- actually I am not moping. Quite the opposite, on the contrary.. yada yada..”

He replies grumpily, throwing another pebble into the lake. A mere drop that ripples across the surface. Either he’s actually being sarcastic and funny, or he is fully trying to convince you he is not moping. Whatever his motives, he only serves to look like a child throwing a tantrum.

“Well. Wrong. I can tell you’re moping.”

You reply back with the tiniest bit of smugness, sitting down beside him on the banks of the lake. Leaning back against your hands, your eyes slowly settle on the lake.

You let the comfortable silence overtake you both like the waters of that moonlit lagoon. Perhaps you have nothing to say, or maybe you’re just waiting for Micolash to crack, to begrudgingly start to complain or vent or do anything to voice his frustration. What you’re doing is condescending, it’s annoying, it’s comforting. And maybe there’s a sick part inside of him that revels in this comfort you give him, even under the guise of academic rivalry.

Micolash scoffs at your words, but doesn’t say anything. He’s not upset at you; he can’t be. You’re not making fun of him, you’re actually doing quite the opposite. You and him could go back and forth like the ebb and flow of tides.

It’s a bothersome notion to him, that just like how ocean waves can’t push and pull without the moon; he can’t imagine his life without you. Now the scholar’s just being dumb and romantic about someone who sees him as a rival, someone to beat out in studies and scholarly research. How vexing he thinks to himself. It’s enough to make him nauseous.

“I’m just looking at the lake.”

Micolash grumbles with annoyance plain in his voice. If only he had a cigarette, and if only he didn’t give his last one to Laurence. Damnable prick.

You say nothing, merely flashing a tiny smile as you continue to stare out onto the lake. Your head falls back as you lean against your hands behind you, lounging with the cool breeze that comes off the waters.

“I actually quite liked your study.”

You admit nonchalantly into the air.

“Perhaps master Willem and the others simply didn’t understand it.”

You suggest coolly as you tilt your head side to side slowly in a meandering motion. A highly unlikely scenario, however the idea is oddly comforting to Micolash. As much as he dislikes said idea. Was it a rule now that academic papers had to be understandable??

“I did though.”

You add on after a beat of silence, finally turning to look at Micolash fully. That look of yours; so curious, understanding, sympathetic- fucking gentle; everything that Micolash believes he shouldn’t be looked at with.

Something in your words strike him. Or actually- your words do strike him. Hard. Like a lightning bolt, like Cupid’s arrow. Like a quicksilver bullet from a pistol, all in a good way of course. Oh, you understood his essay? Obviously you did, you’re smart, terribly and beautifully smart. But you complimented him..through his work- ..which technically still counts as a compliment to him.

Micolash feels as if he could throw up any second.

“.. you did?”

He asks quickly with that turned up half-grin. He’s trying to be normal about it. Trying to hide his emotions that are whirling around inside like storms.

“Of course I did. Although- it was more like ramblings than a thought-out and planned dissertation.”

You say, eyes shifting to look up at the stars that hung overhead.

“However it was ..beautifully written. Much better than Laurence’s dull abstracts and compositions on blood.”

It was.. a backhanded compliment for sure, you were known for those. But Micolash found himself wanting more of it. Gods, you could slap him around all you want. Backhand him with your words or your touch, either way he’d soak it up and give you his very soul in return.

Hell- you could even gouge out his eyes, crack open his chest like they did with cadavers and corpse heads. Bury your hands in him and search for anything and everything. Split him open on the table and peer inside him long enough to know that you infect every bone and cell and crevice.

However you do it, any touch you offer him is a prayer he’ll hold fast.

“Easy to understand hm?”

Is all Micolash hums in reply. Very normal.

“Oh yes... You know, ..-I like to think that we think alike.”

You comment with a beaming smile, moving your focus from the stars and lake to the scholar right next to you. Oh gods, Micolash is fearing this is going in a direction he isn’t sure he’s good at, stepping into territory he’s unfamiliar in.

He never did like the idea of courting, especially other scholars at Byrgenwerth. After all why go through something where he might get hurt? Where he’ll be made a fool of so easily? He’s strange, his reputation is least desirable. Workaholic, annoying voice (according to some- or most), uncanny at times. He can’t woo a man or woman to save his life.

Micolash could visit any lady of the night, pay the price for whatever bleak and quick pleasure he wanted. But to actively pursue you? An angel that’s out of his league some twenty thousand times? Out of the damn question and a fate that’s out of his hands and control.

“..Alike? We?- you and I…- ah- yes. We… do share similarities in our… thoughts.”

Terrible. He stammers like an idiot. Micolash wonders if he could just slip into the lake out of embarrassment. Surely you wouldn’t care right? Oh what does it matter. As he stares at the surface of the lake, watching it wrinkle faintly in the light of the moon. He likes the moonlight, he likes you in the moonlight. Is it possible to be as beautiful as a celestial body? Obviously it is, you exist. Ugh, he could just desperately grasp at you with need and want and yearning. Like the tides reaching up for the moon and heavens, he too would reach up toward you.

Perhaps you’ll never love him, or you’ll never know he loves you. Well.. what’s actually stopping him from outright confessing to you? From attempting some shoddy confession at least? Why can he not just look at you, open his mouth, and go I love.. I love, I love- please oh I love-

“You coming along back inside? It’s getting cold now- certainly don’t want you ill if you’re to best me at our next research proposals.”

You’re standing over him now, a gentle smile donned on your face as you wait for Micolash. Oh fuck, how long exactly was he just staring dead at the water with thoughts of you. Micolash blinks at you before briskly nodding awkwardly and standing up. The ever tall and lanky scholar dusting off his uniform as he looks at you, as normally as he can possibly muster.

He won’t confess and be made the fool. Not this time.

“Lead the way.”

[stormysunday9]

One thing I always wished was that my life had a soundtrack. You can feel things so much deeper with music. My life doesn't have a soundtrack, but I thought my writing could. So here's a few songs to pair with the story if you want to feel it a little more. ❤️

This one is full of angst, no 18+ stuff save for some language.

TW: emotional abuse, injured JB9

P.s. I have no idea how to format on this app so if I'm doing it all wrong please feel free to make fun of me and/or teach me.

One More Chance

I was at the game when Joe was brutally sacked and the defender fell on top of him, crushing his wrist. I ran from the stands to meet him at the medical facility next to the Bengals locker room. Joe seemed too relaxed about it all when told me he "heard a pop." He was clearly still very much in shock. An x-ray and an ultrasound confirmed he had snapped a ligament in his wrist, and as a result, his grip strength was almost nothing. The medical trainer wrapped his wrist and he went back out to the sidelines. I went out to the players parking lot and waited for the game to end. I sat in Joe's car and began to panic. When the shock wore off, this was going to get ugly. He was still riding adrenaline, watching his boys finish the game. I was going to have to deal with the natural disaster that was injured Joe when we got home and he came down from it all.

An hour later, he gently knocked on the passenger window, scaring me out of my mental nightmare. 

"You're gonna have to drive, babe."

Fair enough, I realized. Stick shift wasn't very easy with one hand. I got out of the car and walked around the to driver side. Joe plopped into the passenger side.

"What did they say?" I asked cautiously, still not able to figure out his mood.

"Surgery in a week," he began, "then two weeks rest before I can start physio. Full recovery by six months. Fucking sucks!" He sort of chuckled. 

I felt like I was waiting for the air raid siren to sound. I knew the storm was nearby, but couldn't figure out which direction it was going to come from. We made it home without issue and Joe spent the rest of the evening fielding phone calls and media requests. 

Maybe it'll be ok, I allowed myself to feel a tiny bit hopeful. He's older now, he's seen more success, become more mature since his last injury. And after all, getting hurt is just part of football, right?

Wrong. Not for Joe Burrow, who's entire self worth was rooted in his success as a football player. The storm hit the next day. He was miserable, aggressive, and angry at the world. He spent the week getting drunk and sleeping. All his health obsessions went out the window. His friends would drop him off late at night when he'd been cut off at whatever bar they were at, and I'd have to get him to bed safely while he either made me feel completely useless or tried to drunkenly seduce me, depending on his mood.

I laid low for the days leading up to his surgery and spent most of my time cleaning up after him and his week long bender. I hoped for a light at the end of the tunnel, once he was "fixed" and on the road to recovery.

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

I picked Joe up from the hospital when he had been discharged after his surgery. I pulled his Porsche around to the entrance and watched him lumber out the door, his right arm in a sling that was supporting his heavily wrapped wrist. His face was full of storm clouds.

I got out to grab his bag from him and threw it into the very limited cargo space. He slumped into the passenger seat, completely filling the previously empty seat beside me. 

"You look good," I offered, "how are you feeling?" 

"Fine." He answered without looking at me. I put the car in gear and drove. He stared straight ahead the whole drive home. It seemed safer in the moment to just let him be. He has obviously been thrust back into reality, no longer self medicating with alcoholic. Time to face reality. I was sure he was assessing what the next six months were going to look like, and I was pretty certain he wasn't happy with what he was seeing. 

When we arrived home, he was combative. Wouldn't let me do anything for him, didn't want to talk. It was just like his knee injury all over again, and we'd barely survived that. I didn't know if I could do this again. It hurt so much seeing him like this, but i wanted to support him. Instead he made me feel like I was somehow responsible. Like everyone was out to get him. 

His voice broke through my thoughts, right as I was feeling my throat get tight trying to fight off tears. "I'm going to shower." He turned on his heel, still refusing to make eye contact.

"Joe -", he stopped, his back still to me, "I might go spend the next couple nights at my mom's. If you don't want me here...." I left space after the statement for him to counter. To tell me he needed me here, he wanted me. Instead, facing his back, I saw him give a quick nod of his head, and continue up the stairs. I wish I could have seen the look on his face as he broke my heart, but he wouldn't even give me that.

I followed upstairs shortly after and  began throwing a few items in an overnight bag. Why won't he fight for me? For us? In the midst of feeling sorry for myself, I heard a loud crash from the bathroom. I ran down the hall, worried he had slipped. I opened the bathroom door to see him standing in our large walk in shower with a water proof sleeve over his right arm, water spraying down his broad back, and shampoo and body wash bottles scattered at his feet that he had evidently just cleared off the shelves in a fit of rage. 

"Joe..."

"I can't even wash my own fucking hair!", he yelled, his voice thick with emotion.

Deep breath. "May I come in?" I asked, treading as lightly as possible.

He responded by pushing the shower door open, and kicking the bottles he'd just thrown out of my way.

I pulled my shirt over my head and shimmied my track pants and panties to the floor and stepped into the steamy shower.

"Sit down," I commanded.

He obeyed, sitting cross legged on the shower floor, his head hung down in front of him.

I pulled the shower head from it's cradle, and kneeled down behind him. I put a finger under his chin, asking him to tip his head back. He did as instructed. I let the gentle stream run off his head, running my hands through his thick, wavy hair as I went. I picked up one of the strewn shampoo bottles and squeezed some into my hand. I began to massage it into his scalp gently, being careful to wipe it back from his hairline so it didn't get in his eyes.

I suddenly noticed his whole body was heaving in front of me. He was silently sobbing. 

"Oh my love....",  I wrapped my arms around his neck, he reached up with his left arm to hold onto mine. 

"Please don't leave," he barely whispered, his voice breaking.

I sat back on my feet. "I don't want to, Joe. I want to be here, I want to help you, I want to be with you. But it doesn't feel like you want me here. I want to give you your space. If that's what you want."

He made a clumsy effort to spin around to face me. "It's not. I don't want to go through this without you." 

His eyes were so pained, his whole body seemed fatigued. I began to gently rinse the shampoo from his hair while he stared into my eyes. "I'm so sorry...Stay," he pleaded.

I took a minute to focus on the hot water cascading down my back. I stood up, and reached out my hand to help him up. Now standing, he towered over me, but his presence didn't feel like it took up the same amount of space as it once did. His whole aura felt smaller, after hit after hit to his body, his ego and his pride. 

"Ok," I finally agreed, grasping his left hand in both of my hands, "but you have to let me in."

He offered a curt nod of his head. I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel from the warmer. Joe stepped out after me, and I reached up to help him dry his hair, the stretch causing my naked breasts to press again his chiselled chest. He wrapped his left arm around my waist and bent down to make his height more accessible. With his mouth now next to my ear I felt his warm breath against my cheek as he whispered, "you're so beautiful."

I offered him a soft smile. I knew how difficult it would be for him right now to offer any sort of kindness or compliment, knowing his head was just churning with dark thoughts.

He took a step back and actually looked at me, for what felt like the first time. His cold blue eyes felt like they were burning a hole through my body. "I just want to feel worthy of you," he confessed. 'i can't even take care of myself, how can I take care of you?"

"You don't always have to take care of everyone," I told him, "right now, please just let me take care of you." I continued to help pat him dry. Then removed the waterproof sleeve from his right arm

"How is it feeling?", I asked.

"Hurts," he replied. 

"Why don't you go lay down. Rest is the best medicine right now. I'll grab you your pain meds." I offered.

"I don't want them, I shouldn't need them! Professional athletes using narcotic pain control never ends well." He protested.

I clenched my jaw, trying to stay calm. "Fine, I'll grab you a couple Tylenol."

I ran downstairs to grab the Tylenol from the kitchen while Joe sulked towards the bedroom. I knew I needed to stay patient, but my patience was already so thin. I was so mentally exhausted. Every time I thought I'd broken down a wall he'd built, I just found another one behind it. 

When I returned to the bedroom, he was already in bed and I could tell by his hooded eyes that sleep was creeping over him. I handed him the pills, and some water, and bent to kiss him on his cheek.

"Lay with me a for a bit...? He slurred trough his fatigue.

"Ok," I quietly agreed.

I climbed in bed next to him on his side and curled my body against his broad back. I draped my arm over him and he reached up with his left hand to link his pinky finger with mine. "I love you," he breathed out.

"I know..." I whispered.

His breathing slowed and became deeper. I could tell he was asleep. Looking at this perfect man, momentarily at peace, I could see the man I fell in love with two years ago. I couldn't even make sense that this man, and the volatile person who was yelling and throwing things minutes ago were one in the same. The constant mood swings were giving me whiplash. 

I knew I was at a breaking point. I couldn't do it much longer. I wanted nothing more than to be there for him, to love him, even at his worst. But I also knew that i couldn't be his punching bag any longer. It was up to him from here on out. He needed to decide what this was going to look like, whether he could get through this without burning down everything around him. At this point, I knew I'd done everything I could. 

I slowly wiggled my hand out of his and quietly slipped out of the bed. I went downstairs to lay on the couch, where my unexpected wave of tears wouldn't wake him.

----------

When Joe came home after his first day of physio, after a week of me walking on eggshells and the two of us barely speaking, I decided to try one more time.

He looked like he was already on his way to sequester himself back in his office with his music and computer when I tried to interject.

"Hang out with me, babe. We can watch a movie, or play Scrabble. I know how hard this has been for you, so let's just do something easy."

His face immediately filled with fury. "You have no fucking idea how hard this is for me!", he spit out, "you have no fucking clue what it's like to have the only thing you care about get ripped away from you!"

And there it was. It would have hurt less if he had just slapped me across the face. His words burned into my heart. Tears sprang into my eyes.

"Actually, Joe, I do know exactly what that feels like. Because the thing I care about most in this world - YOU - got ripped away from me the moment your wrist snapped, and got replaced by a monster who's made it his life's mission to make me feel like absolute trash, despite sacrificing every bit of everything I have to be there for you and get you through this!!!!" My voice was angry, but my tears betrayed me. My heart was broken, and my decision was made. I couldn't be here anymore. And I told him so.

"I can't keep doing this. I love you so much, but it's not enough. I need some time, to just be me. And maybe you can figure out who you are, who Joe Burrow is now, and whether that person has any room in his life for me anymore."

I grabbed my keys and my purse. "I'll come back tomorrow while you're at physio to get my stuff."

I saw his face drop at the realization that I was really leaving. I couldn't let it effect me, my resolve was set. I walked out the door, got in my truck, and drove away. I didn't make it halfway to my parents house before I had to pull over because I couldn't see the road through my hysterical sobs. 

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

The first couple weeks with my parents were rejuvenating. I finally felt like I could breathe. I missed Joe terribly, but what was happening back home was not healthy for either us. I hadn't told my parents much, just that Joe needed to focus on healing and needed some space to do so. I didn't give them all the nitty gritty details because I didn't want them to hate him. I dove headfirst back into work, spent time with friends, and a lot of time reflecting on what I needed to be happy going forward. 

Three weeks after our last explosive break down, Joe texted me:

Hey you.

Hi you. How are you doing?

Getting better every day. I wanted you to know that I started therapy.

I know! How's the grip strength?

Oh, good. But I didn't mean physio. Therapy for my mind. It's been helping a lot. Helping me understand there has to be a me that exists outside of football. And that one day football will be done for me, so I need to put energy into the things I still want to have around me when that day comes.

And I know the only thing I want is you. 

Wow, that was easily the longest text joe had ever sent me. By his standards, that was a novel. And therapy was so huge for him. He'd never taken that idea seriously before. I took a minute to get my words right before I responded.

I think that's really amazing, Joe. I'm proud of you, and you should be proud of yourself.

I know saying it and putting it into action are two very different things, which is why I would like the chance to show you that I can be better. I didn't know my mental health needed healing as much as my physical health....

There was a long pause between messages, I was trying to take it all in and really didn't know how to respond, my head was spinning. And then I saw him begin to type again.

Can I see you?

I breathed out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding. Part of me wanted to respond yes with a hundred exclamation marks because I missed him so much. And part of me was still so guarded, so protective of my own mental state, that the thought of seeing him terrified me. I loved him so much, and really seemed to have been making an effort in our time apart....

...one more chance, I promised myself.

Ok, I texted back, you can come here. My parents are out of town so you won't have to worry about an interrogation. Bring coffee.

Be there in 20 🫡

When I opened the door, Joe looked different. He seemed relaxed, but cautious. The tension that had permanently taken up residence in his jawline had disappeared. He held the tray of drinks in his good hand, his injured hand still in a brace but no longer in a sling.

"Hi", he smiled with that damn smile that could melt icebergs, or in this case, my cold hardened heart.

I ushered him in with a sweeping motion of my arm. He sat down on my parents couch and set the drinks on the coffee table in front of it. 

"How are you?", he asked as genuinely as he ever had.

"Hanging in there," I replied.

He gave me a pained look and decided to just get right to the point.

"I'm so sorry, babe. There is no excuse for the way I treated you. And I know any apology is insufficient. The only thing I can do is be better for you. Be the person you deserve. And I don't know if I can ever be that person, because you deserve the world, and more. But I want to try. I want to be everything you need, I want to be the person who makes your life better, happier. I never want to hurt you again. I know now that football is right now, but you are forever. And I want you forever. So I want to put just as much effort - more even - into you, into us, as I do into my career. I want to be good at football, but I want to be great at loving you."

I could feel the tears threatening to spill out of eyes. I tried to control my breathing. 

Joe reached out and gently grabbed my hand, "hey," he offered, trying to get me to meet his eyes, "I'm just so damn sorry. I was a complete jackass, and you deserve so much better."

I finally met his eyes and the tears I was trying so hard to hold back slid down my cheeks. "God dammit, Burrow," I half laughed, half cried.

He cocked his head to the side, pleading and hopeful.

There was nothing I wanted more than to be us again. But the us we started out as, the us before the injuries and the losses. I knew that Joe was still in there, and I could see how desperately he was trying to bring him to the forefront and to be him again, and only him. 

I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths. I needed to get my voice under control before I spoke again. I reached over to take a drink of my coffee. I finally decided to tell him the same words I had told myself earlier. 

"One more chance, Joe."

I watched the corners of his lips start to turn up, before I continued.

"I swear to you though, I won't go through that again. If you get hurt again, and I think we can both admit that's a pretty good possibility, we will get through it together or not at all. And if you treat me like shit again, you won't see me again. I'm not kidding, Joe. You broke my heart."

He imperceptibly winced at the sting of my words, and wiped the grin off his face immediately. 

"I broke my own heart too, the minute I let you walk away," he confided. "I promise to spend every minute proving to you that it will never happen again". 

He scooted closer to me, and wrapped an arm around me, my head fell into his chest, where I had always fit so perfectly. He took this as an invitation to wrap the other arm around me and squeeze me like he was never going to let me go.

We stayed like that for a minute while I buried myself in his warmth, his smell, his strength. When I finally came up for air I looked into his eyes, they looked so vulnerable.

"You better not mess this up, Burrow." I tried to sound stern.

He smiled. "I wouldn't dare." He offered me the pinky finger of his left hand, and after a moment's hesitation, I linked it with mine. Then he pulled me in and kissed me, and just like that, I was ready to risk it all, all over again. 

[chthonicgodling]

hey. I’m taking your hands. come with me. come watch fenixe insta-kill me with one perfect line. the type of moment that makes me put my phone completely down and walk in a circle around my living room. my entire tumblr is a shrine. see if you can take a wild guess what knocked the wind out of me completely

the context is! Loki cuddled with Maci and Tory admitted for once like a fucking grown up that he didn’t feel well (“what’s hurting you!????” “…emotionally.”) When they asked him how they could help him feel better, a question that genuinely baffled EeL, Tory took him out to the courtyard in a cute little quiet date moment, where they discussed the palace kids, the roses in front of them, and their pending baby, including the baby’s SITUATION THAT’S STILL A SECRET ON THIS BLOG but that’s not suuuuuper important right now. One thing led to another— to Loki’s worries about the baby’s safety as usual, to discussing right here the ways the mortals had referred to Jör in legend. AAAAND SCENE—

formatted for the main blog here cause I want this in the eyes of all of you and. idk I feel like it has to be fancier on here lmao. a ✨canon convo!!✨

Loki: “I suppose it couldn’t have made much of a difference to their terminology if they’d had… A serpent of such size and potential wouldn’t have settled their imaginations. Surely they’d only have seen a beast.

Certainly seeing him as a babe hadn’t helped anyone else, even in the eye of my own f—”

Loki: stops. swallows.

Tory: “You’re among beasts here, at least.”

Loki, faintly: “Right.”

Tory: “We keep Epi around. Nightmare incarnate.”

Loki: a distant nod

Tory, sighing: “And I won’t stand for people treating him poorly for what he is.”

Loki: “Right.”

Loki: the longest, quietest, faraway pause… setting his jaw, and,..,

Loki: “…When Sleipnir was taken from me, I…

I swore— swore. With every sinew and fiber of my being. That I would never let harm come again to any of my children. If I could bear to have any more after my first, that I would never again feel them wrenched from my arms.

I failed.

Once again— twice, three times, in one fell swoop. And after even then, my love and my rage weren’t enough to truly save…

I failed each of them, not once more but five times.”

a cold sneer— “I find your optimism inspiring. I’m glad you’ll be able to save this one. Do let me know what the secret is.”

Tory: “It’s family.”

Loki: falls silent

Tory: “The secret, it’s having your whole community ready to throw down and get feral if something threatens your kid.”

Loki: ,,quiet

and… blinking tears.

Tory: “I pulped the god of death and ate him.

Loki: wiping his eyes

Tory: “No one fucks with my kids.”

Loki: and the shakiest exhale

Tory: “No one fucks with my wife, no one fucks with my consorts.”

Loki…… who despite this all literaly can’t resist, mumbling: “Technically I did the death god pulping for you first, ‘twas my powers that exploded him into your portion sized bits.”

Tory: “Team effort.”

Loki: “I’ll let it slide, I understand. Best not to negate the gravitas of your actions of loyalties.

…Sorry, you were saying. Tch, your consorts, I suppose you consider me formally within the scope?”

Tory, patting the fUCKIN BABY HELLO: “I think you fit the bill.”

Loki: a small nod. and a pause and… he leans into Tory, quiet.

Tory: “It means you’re family.”

and Tory tucking his arm around him; Loki, swallowing thickly, lip wobbling overwhelmed—

hHMYGOD………

forget Loki how about me, I was a fucking puddle— I still AM (Loki nearly wrecking the moment cause he can’t NOT take credit for things fgkfkgkgk)

Instant KO though anyway gestures wildly to this post and this post. do you see. do you understand. it. ITs…. AHHH

[rainofdauwuand0w0]

Its one forty six am as i start writing this out on my phone

I sometimes think about alot of things of course randomly, sometimes I ramble about them in a video format (which I will make another rain rambles video at some point) but rn is just my intrigue with seeing…idk things of mine starting to get considered…old? Or seeing the styles of certain things come back, like frutiger aero/web gloss 2.0 and all its other brothers and sisters of styles coming back into the limelight of that era cus we’ve grown up and wanna either re-get in touch with how it was and style our own things after it, or the younger of the current generation z and gen alpha taking a look at it and loving the style. Hearing songs getting bundled in “all your hits of the early 2000’s” and audibly saying “noooo not yet!” While my mom laughs and says “your turn” in a lighthearted manner. Watching things near my homes over the years shift and change, things getting added, places i wished existed when i was younger so Id have more interest to even think about staying in my home state thats been memed about to death but is so goddamn boring when you are actually here, im watching anime bars get added from tiktok, a goth themed food place called biteme i believe dealing in mainly sweets, A FUCKING NARUTO RESTURANT THAT YOU CAN CURRENTLY GET TO GO ORDERS FROM AND THEY PLAN TO EVENTUALLY OPEN THE INSIDE IF IT DOES WELL, I just…

I’m watching the world around me change while i can smell the winds of old blowing of my past at the same time, I picked team present for the splatoon 3 grand festival for another secret reason.

Because the past is hard to remember for me, due to probably a mix of trauma and being in a bad car accident when i was little, I can only emulate the limited good feelings, not to mention me being undiagnosed (still to this day, i only have vibes and peer review) so that combo just…fucks with my mind.

Then there is the future, while my current future looks bright, so many times Ive watched a future that I thought would happen and planned out in my head just crumble apart or feel so damn hard to achieve, I fall and fall into my mind at each time, and eventually I just became just…so focused on the now, so much so it feels like a haze, only recently thanks to my boyfriend of current do I feel comfy even dare looking towards the future.

…hearing splatoon 1’s sounds was both a blessing…and a bit of a curse, good to hear the fun of old songs that made me happy when times were rough…but remembering the rough times themselves almost in a fixed camera view…like silent hill or games that take inspiration from that, being the director to my own fuzzy memory, meanwhile I get nightmares again randomly, even though my brain originally stopped making them, I might’ve talked about it, but in a final nightmare for a bit…my brain zoomed in on a radio, and it said “and thats the end of our dream programming” or something along those lines….but after that, until ive been with my boyfriend a bit, I didnt have nightmares just…blank mind since middle school.

Its weird.

I feel “old” in a sense that only the internet and regular general media can make you, because “okay we kinda acknowledge ourselves as adults now, here is nostalgic vibes playlist to post to youtube and stuff” and also “2000’s hits” just… agh

[lesbiancolumbo]

continuing the burt talk: top five non-SSOS burt roles??

HELLO! this list might cause controversy in the burt community (???) because guys. i do not like westerns. i do not like burt’s westerns. please stop making me watch them. i’m tired.

5. steve thompson, criss cross

guys it’s CRISS CROSS. i’ve already made so many people mad by preferring this to the killers. allow me to double down.... guys, criss cross is good and burt is fantastic in it. what i like about this film is he gets more to do and he has that brutal fucking ending, which plays out mostly on his pretty face. maybe i’m just a sucker for that face but him realizing he’s been double crossed (once again!) by the woman he loves and he just says, in this tone of voice, well i’ll know better next time... knowing damn well there won’t be a next time.... it just gets to me.

4. doc delaney, come back little sheba

okay now i know this is an even more controversial choice but once again hear me out: this is a good movie. burt got so much shit for doing this movie, that he was way too young and wrong for the part, blah blah blah. maybe! maybe he was, and he took this part because this was around the time in his career when he was really smarting from his romantic rival marlon brando getting streetcar and wanted to do more plays and such, but i actually really like the work he does here. he anchors shirley booth’s performance really well, and for me i always saw his spin on it as not being too young for the part but instead a younger man who got involved with an older woman and is dealing with/mourning the sacrifices and choices that came with that. it still works! i don’t care!

3. john malcolm, separate tables

y’all: sydney shut UP about separate tables

me: no

look, only one half of this movie is good and that half is the burt lancaster and rita hayworth half. i would die for john malcolm and ann shankland. i love their storyline because in my heart of hearts i am obsessed with people who were in love once, a long time ago, and it ended (badly or not) and then they meet years later and realize that maybe they’re not good for each other, but those feelings are still there anyway and they’re enough to give it another go. i just love that. i just think burt is good at playing this man who is obviously suffering and tormented by their past relationship (and what he did) and just endlessly in love with this woman he can’t forget no matter how hard he tries!

2. mike ribble, trapeze

TRAPEZE HIVE

this movie is a masterpiece and low key one of burt’s best roles. why?? because his first love was the circus and he is doing all of those fucking stunts himself! his first wife and her sister used to do the trapeze stunts mike and tino do in this movie. it’s very personal for him. i think i’m just ultimately interested in burt as a broken man because that’s once again what he is here, but this movie is like the best of both worlds bc it’s the dramatic range combined with his amazing physical stunts he became known for when he did the flame and the arrow and crimson pirate. also, this is the film that walked so ssos could run - tony begged burt to cast him in the latter and it was only because they’d did the former together (and became really good friends - look for my story about tony climbing up burt’s balcony every night) that he was able to vouch for him. they’re a good team! this movie is fun and colorful and a treat to watch!

1. ned merrill, the swimmer

guysssss the swimmer. THE swimmer. i think this is burt’s best role period. he thought it was his best film, which makes me cry sometimes. i just... it is so strange and surreal, such a mesmerizing performance. the swimmer is truly like a film about class critique and the suburbs and depression and peppering in some gay subtext and voila, you’ve got a fucking movie baby. burt spends the entire movie in swim trunks. he was in his 60s. he LEARNED TO SWIM to make this movie (he was a natural athlete and could do almost everything but swim, which terrified him).

why did he do this??? because he wanted to do it. i think i know why, though i won’t speak for him. but he wanted to do it so badly and i just think it’s an incredible physical performance from a man KNOWN for his brute physicality.

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 10: BIG DICK IS BACK IN TOWN

y/n is back in brooklyn for the holidays. thinking that a stream will make her feel less homesick for cali, she starts working on her famously titled hentai.free.srv. what was supposed to be a relaxing stream turns into a special delivery about two hours in.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 2.2k ─── ❥ req: Here's one... You know those apps for delivery like Domino's or whatnot... What if reader is streaming Among Us with Corpse, and reader mentions they're hungry and Corpse offers to order them food, and readers like no no it's fine... Then there's delivery at the door (Corpse ordered beforehand) 

author’s note: fucky format is also back in town baby!!! also if you find any mistakes - no u didnt <3 thank u everyone for enjoying this story sm i literally cant believe how feral yall going strawberry cow was a nuclear explosion im still recovering tbh. got an ask a while ago and decided to incorporate it into myso. happy holidays everyone! myso will continue on monday!

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous.  ҉   next.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

Indeed, being soft on any social media platform was the biggest disgrace and needed to be eliminated post haste. Moreover, it was a slippery slope - once you start flooding your timeline with cute imagery and heart emojis, what will stop you from posting inspirational Facebook quotes? Disgusting. If Rae were here, she would chide you (not you thinking about her as if she’s dead or something). For once in your life, you feel like you deserve it. 

Alas, you hope this little chaos you’ve caused is enough to throw everyone off. The stans, especially. You know the hashtags, you’ve seen ARMY scourging for info online with the same fervor and ruthlessness 1 Direction fans hacked airport security cameras just to spy on the boys. If you had any dirty secrets online, they are out to the public now - thankfully, besides the Harry Styles stan account (with edits and all), you have nothing. Though, now that you think about it, exposed nudes would have been better than your Punk!Harry edit receiving almost a million views. God, your life’s a fucking mess.

Your fans aren’t the only ones out for info - you, too, are trying to decipher Rae’s message. Code: Barbecue Sauce. The two of you had come up with it roughly two years ago, around the same time when you promised that if you didn’t find significant others by the time you’re 40, you’ll just marry each other. It was one of the many rules found in your friendship codex. Barbecue Sauce signifies information - an exchange of information. And depending on how it ends or begins (”So I’m sitting there” alludes to Rae, “On my titties” alludes to you), secret data on that person is given away, usually free of charge. 

But why? And to whom did Rae give away what? You had pestered her mercilessly and even sent some voice messages where you were crying. You were only crying because of a video of a grandpa smiling you saw on TikTok, but you are a snake, and so you put those tears to good use. If streaming doesn’t work out, you’ll just become an actress. Hollywood would love you. Your PR firm sure as fuck wouldn’t, though.

Rae was having none of it. She said you’ll figure it out eventually. Told you to channel your superior puzzle skills. You were quick to remind her that you can barely count to ten without having an aneurysm. Oddly serious, she admitted that she worries for you sometimes. Why only sometimes?! you demanded. She merely sighed. uttering under her breath something that sounded closely to “Boke.”

You leave her for barely a week and she’s already neck deep in the gay volleyball anime, hoodie and cardboard cutout and everything. Your life is falling apart.

But Brooklyn is nice. It had snowed when you stepped off of the plane. Thousands of snowflakes sprinkling into your hair, dotting your cheeks and nose. You missed this sight back in Cali. You missed your parents, too. 

Home cooked meals, old sweaters, your old room and about 40GB worth of old high school pictures on your computer. You went through them all one night. Some were stomach churning, cringe inducing nightmares. You were especially fond of those. Texted some of your friends that were still in Brooklyn, met up, decided to bake. Bad idea, Rae was the resident chef back in Cali. Besides laughing till your stomach hurt, and almost burning down your kitchen, nothing all that significant happened. Somewhere down the line, at about 3 am, half-way through a cheesy rom-com you had the overwhelming urge to text Corpse.

That’s where the problems really started. God, you missed California, missed being in the same timezone with a guy you hadn’t even met yet, how embarrassing is that?! You missed skating around and taking pictures of the beach in the setting sun, sending it to him, silently wishing he was with you to admire the view. 

You really want to call him. And to hang out with him. But for some reason, the thought of that springs up immediate anxiety and you shy away from asking. Him sending you cute good morning texts doesn’t help, either. Maybe it’s better he doesn’t know that you’re a blushing, stuttering mess each time you read “baby”. 

Late evening. Your stream is already set up, people are slowly trickling in and you greet them with a grin and a soft “Hello! Hi hi!”. You did your best to make your room a perfectly chaotic backdrop - led lights, an embarrassing amount of anime merch and plushies. You always try to balance out your weeb side by dressing hot as fuck for your streams - today’s inspiration just so happens to be egirls. Mostly because you watched one too many egirl make-up tutorials on TikTok, and also because you’ve been listening to Corpse’s song all day.

Yeah, no, who are you kidding, you dressed up this way because you were hoping Corpse was watching your stream. You didn’t forget your cat headphones, either. You know he likes them. You want to make him suffer. Perhaps then, finally, he will ask you out, so you wouldn’t have to.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

“I feel like,” You start when you put away your phone, staring idly at the chat, “I feel like I need a new name for you guys. Calling you guys after two years of streaming is just... weird, no? I also don’t respect men so I don’t want to call you guys. Like, so many creator’s have, like, a name for their fans. Uhm, Cody Ko has the chodesters, Kurtis Conner has, uh, folks? Kurtis Town? Citizens! Markiplier has mommy issues--” You can’t help snorting, “So, I’ve been, like, thinking - I know, shocking! - so I was thinking I’m gonna name you cockroaches. Because you’re grimy little shits impossible to kill. And also then I can use the legendary Minaj meme ROACHES!”

Your stream enthusiastically echoes ROACHES, making the chat swim. Yes, if anyone would enjoy such a name, it would be your audience. You’re as equally proud as you are disturbed.

“Well, anyway.” Leaning back into your chair, you throw your arms out with a bright grin, “Big dick is back in town, baby! If you noticed the backdrops different, it’s cuz I’m in Brooklyn now. Don’t ask me when I will return to Always Sunny, I don’t plan that far ahead.”

While Minecraft boots up, you decide to answer a few questions.

r u dating sykkuno?

You want to smack your head into the keyboard, but as it is, you can’t exactly afford a new one, so you refrain, “No, Sykkuno and I are not dating, we are just good friends. Uhm, I’m not sure how much I’ll have to repeat this, but, we really aren’t, so if the roaches could chill - Oh my God, that sounds so stupid, I love it - uh, yeah, if the roaches could chill that’d be great.”

the roaches lmao sounds like we’re a sports team

“Oh shit, yeah it does, uh-- maybe I can make like, jerseys or something. That’d be cool, I think.”

how disappointed are your parents with the way your life turned out?

“My parents are actually not disappointed at all!” You say with a cute little smile, “Uhm, they’re both really proud, actually. They’re glad I found something I love doing and made a job outta it. Dad finds my Youtube videos endearing. Yes, they watch pretty much all of my videos, unless I explicitly tell them not to. And yeah, with all the fucks and thirsting for anime characters. Uhm, it was very embarrassing at first, but I mean, after a while, shame just...doesn’t exist anymore, I guess? Funny thing about my parents, actually, when they watch my videos-” You eye catches a comment, “Oh! No, they only watch my Youtube videos. They don’t know how to use Twitter, thank God. Uhm, anyway-- when they hear a name they don’t know, like, I dunno, Dabi, or something, they google--” You’re grinning by now, eyes crinkling, giggling softly, “--who that is, and buy me like, merch and stuff. It’s really cute. 

can i be adopted by ur parents plz

will you and corpse ever collab?!

You were about to answer, though the man of the hour himself decides to do it for you.

Corpse_Husband: yes.

Okay, not to say your heart skipped a beat, but it totally did. With a pleased smile, you nod, like one of those bobble head toys sold at the dollar store. The motion is oddly reminiscent of Sykkuno’s own nod. Perhaps you had picked it up from him. The chat seems to notice.

pack it up, sykkuno

More questions pile about this mysterious collab you and Corpse are planning. Yeah, you’d like to hear more about it, too, since he single highhandedly decided one was happening right now. Corpse remains silent. Fine, keep your secrets. 

“Okay, guys, oh, I mean, roaches, Oh my God--” You’re covering your mouth, giggling, “-calling all roaches, calling all roaches, calm down. Everyone grab a snack and a blanket I’m turning up the music volume so we can all chill. Entering chill zone. Entering chill zone. Roaches, prepare.”

we are prepared

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

An hour or so passes and you grow hungry. It shows with the amount of cakes you had baked in your server. Currently, you find yourself throwing eggs at the wall of one of the renovated houses, your face scrunched in concentration and slight frustration. 24 of the 50 eggs have been wasted. “What’s a girl gotta do to get some chicks around here?” you had uttered under your breath, until, finally, a screech - the egg finally spawns a mob. Your mouth falls open, “Aww, look!” You approach it, so small, walking in zigzags beside you, “It’s a baby chicken! Die, bitch.” The baby chicken is no more as you swing your bedazzled (you have mods) diamond sword. You’re cackling by the time the dust settles.

y/n is a child murderer

“Roaches,” You address your fan-base, spurring another fit of laughter - you can’t get over the name, “I think I’m like, forgetting that eating in Minecraft won’t actually make less hungry in real life.”

take a break and go eat queen <3

“Fuck no, we starve and die like men. Now I actually really need another chicken.”

Another twenty minutes trickle by and you’re trying to lure back a panda from the jungle when there’s a knock on your bedroom’s door. Whipping your head to the side, you slide down your headphones. At the same time, your mom pokes her head through the ajar door, “MOM!” You scream, “Get OUT of my room I’m playing Minecraft!” But your yell has no actual bite to it, as you don’t manage to hide your smile. Your mom laughs, doing some sort of sign language and motioning for you to follow her with her head. That or it’s some sort of performative dance. 

“I’m live right now,” You tell her, pointing at your screen. She knows this already, though, “do you want to say hi?” 

The roaches spam the chat with friendly hellos. You mom, quite impatient now, waves you over. 

“Sorry, roaches, mom needs something. Be back in a bit!”

Stopping the stream, you rush out of your seat and pleased she slinks into the hallway. “What’s this about?”

“Your pizza came.”

“My what now?” You echo, confused.

“Domino’s. You ordered pizza?”

“What? No? I was busy with the stream, I never--”

Thankfully, you had managed to grab your phone from your room before you exited. You almost choke on spit once you read the messages.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

You decide that it’ll be impossible to stream after experiencing what you had just experienced. You tweet out a quick apology to the roaches (God, that fucking name) and say that you had a breakdown but you’re okay. That is as a close to the truth as you managed to muster. It’s a sad sight, chewing and crying; your mom winced when she saw your state - disheveled hair and rundown eyeliner and everything. “D’aww,” She had muttered, caressing the top of your head, “don’t cry my little raccoon.”

If anyone was ever to ask you where did your chaotic nature come from, you’d answer with my mom. To make yourself feel better, you took a selfie - duck face and peace sign and the horrible 2000′s angle. Sent it to Rae. 

looking hot, her message read. 

thanks, was all you replied with.

You couldn’t just leave things as they were. Once you calmed down, you wanted to text Corpse, but how would you follow up the ungodly caps lock and screeching? Impossible. An idea sprung to mind, one that was brave. Taking the first step.

Instead of sending a text, you sent a voice memo.

“Thank you for the pizza, it was delicious.”

You voice still sounded a bit raspy. His reply was instant. Your heart skipped a beat. He sent a voice memo back.

“Glad you liked it, baby.”

He was going to be the death of you.

✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼　 ҉ 　✼

tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @slashersdream - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury–moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai - @truly-dionysus - @multi-fandom-central707

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

[jiminrings]

last chronological part for stem koo... WHEW I WATCHED THEM GROW WHAT’S GONNA HAPPEN NOW

cold senior!y/n x stem major koo masterlist :D

they finally become lunchbox lovers

“you’re asking me what’s jungkook like?”

jimin couldn't be any more surprised

first of all, his day started with yOU texting him and asking if you can drop by for a second, and the moment he texted "sure???", you're literally already knocking on the door

and second, you're asking him???

“oh come on. he clings to you with every chance he gets. i thought you gave him a chance already.”

your eyes only deadpan that jimin actually gets the hint, his mouth curling in a eureka moment that he managed to figure out himself without you talking

“oH! so that’s why you’re asking me because you’re thinking of giving him an actual chance.”

alright finally

you slump in relief over not saying it out loud, expressing the slightest bit of worry you have to someone (that's not as close to you like yoongi and jin are) who'd get where you're coming from without bias

“i just wanna know how he usually is when he’s not on my heels.”

“honestly? the same. probably even a bit more clingier.”

jimin wastes no time in ratting jungkook out, even leaning back to the couch with how relaxed he is

“talks about you too. i’m sorry y/n but even i know what shampoo you use!!!”

jimins knows your wHAT

"my shampoo???"

“mhmm. made me drive him to a grocery store at 10 in the evening so he can individually smell all the shampoos without anyone calling him a creep or something like that,” he nods earnestly and doesn't look like he's playing with you or the sort

you're quite frozen and jungkook's roommate isn't at all fazed and is even pulling up pICTURES of their impromptu grocery trip

“he even made it in a scientific paper format. with the hypothesis and conclusion and everything.”

he points it out just in time when you swipe to jimin's hand holding a printed piece of paper with the document in the monitor right behind it, the next pictures being blurry because that's when jungkook freaked out

jimin gets his phone back but not without sending you the pictures you just saw even if you didn't ask for them, trying to hide the amusement in your eyes when you decide to scroll through them again later

“cut him some slack though. he’s never really had a girlfriend, y’know? or like even a crush. he’s just navigating it with his instincts and all the advice he gets.”

hold on a second

“... advice?”

he thought you'd never ask (he'll still say it even if you don't) which is why he brightly grins, hunching over as if to let you in on a guarded secret

“i’m one of his consultants!!! didn’t suggest the shampoo part though.”

who could have possibly thought of that idea then ://

you hum in faux complacency, trying to get this as fast as possible so you could make up your mind quicker

“what else?”

jimin's relaxed now that he's had a proper laugh with you and realized you aren't as Intimidating As He Thought You Were, recounting the things in his mind like a to-do list

“he’s sickeningly kind.”

the gravity of his words strike him before they do with you, straightening his posture to clear up the air right away, “but i knoW that what he did to you is the furthest thing from kind, and trust me, i really got that point across!!!”

by point, jimin means cooking him burnt meals and jungkook having to endure it because he doesn't like wasting food

additionally, that also meant jimin served kook a cRISP smack on the back of his boba ball head into next week

look at him <3 seokjin, yoongi AND jimin gave him shit!!! now isn;t that teamwork

you're unable to paint the mental image in your head because he continues, grabbing your attention once again

“but apart from that, jungkook could just be too kind for his own sake,” he says sincerely. “he’s like the kid the principal refers to in elementary when they talk about peer pressure!!!”

your first instinct is to snort at that, the mental image definitely forming in your head now

is it just sO bad that you and jimin agree on this

“jokes aside, jungkook’s really genuine.”

it's the last thing jimin wraps it off with when you stand from the couch, cheeks still a little warm when he trails you behind the door

you're just about to thank him when the door in front of you opens and almost hits you in the process, the person behind it just as alarmed

jungkook’s just now coming home because he had to pick up some last-minute groceries from the convenience store downstairs that jimin forgot from his last run, clearly startled to why would wou be here

"oH???? y/n??? what are you doing here???"

his pupils are shaking between the two of you and he's not even trying to hide is incoming panic

“.... a-are you and jimin-“

“yup! sorry bud! we were just-...” jimin's attempt at a lighthearted joke is halted as fast as it was introduced, getting a smack on the middle of his back that makes him wince

“you’re annoying, jimin."

oOOOOH you just put your palm on him!! yea at this rate he's gonna be your best friend too won't he

jungkook's processing things as fast as he could, getting a reassuring glance from you that puts him at ease

“we were just talking, kook.”

he nods even if he's still a tiny bit unsure, calling for you when you're on your way out the door

“a-about what though?”

:-)

“you’d know soon enough.”

( ♡ )

“you wanna tell me now why we went on this drive?”

seokjin yawns at a stoplight even when his car is the only one waiting on the intersection right now, not in the mood for a ticket with a printed traffic light picture of him mid-yawn in his matching pajamas anytime soon

“no reason," you sing-song and it makes him snort, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “couldn’t sleep."

“well that makes one of us.”

you've unabashedly knocked on jin's door and even if it took you two tries, he still answered nonetheless, not even asking for an explanation why before he sleepily took his keys and grabbed his house slippers for shoes

you had no destination in mind at 3 in the morning which is why jin’s just driving for no rhyme nor direction and is just going with his brain’s one-second impulses of where to turn

he’s game for anything, actually — that much you know

although you do know that jin literally wouldn't do this for anyone else besides the people he find worth all this (aka everyone except you and yoongi and ok maybe namjoon sometimes)

the drive is beyond serene and even with repetitive radio music playing in the background, you don't actually mind it

when you're with jin, it just feels like you're in a constant bubble of comfort and ease that you always try to look for in everything

he doesn't necessarily need explanations,, he just deduces from things at face-value and later ask about it when you're comfortable enough to share

jin points at a drive-thru he suddenly had a craving for as you were about to suggest it anyway

you're not even quite sure why there's a line but neither of you complain, the situation more than bearable that a little waiting wouldn't dampen your mood

the words you've been thinking of the whole day finally slip across the silence, as casual yet as sincere as they could be

“i’m really thankful that you’re in my life, jin. you know that right?”

he seems pleasantly surprised when you look at his side profile, shaking his head

“mhmm. you only tell me a couple times but you put your knee on top of mine everyday,” he chuckles at the habit of yours and he kNOWS for a fact you would put your knee on top of his if only he wasn't behind the wheel. “tell me all about it, kid.”

it's genuine laughter that encompasses the whole car, his chuckles suddenly ceasing when he realizes another possibility

“you’re not asking me for allowance, are you? because yoongi’s already bugging me for his next month’s.”

wait what

“you give yoongi an allowance???”

“you didn’t know???”

:///

“... i’m not asking for an allowance.”

“..... but do you want it,.,..”

jin sees you pursing your lips and intentionally looking at everywhere but him, already getting his answer

“fine. that’s the furthest you two could get from me!! don’t expect me to pack your lunchboxes to school now. you must be crazy.”

jin, in fact, packs you and yoongi lunchboxes more often than not

jin, aLSO, does all the paper rolling for you so when the three of u get occasionally high, it’s all nice and tight

jin is also the one who does all the talking on the phone to customer service when neither of you are willing

he asks the moment he relays your usual midnight snack slash early breakfast order he's already memorized to the attendant, patiently looking at you

“you want anything else with that?”

“i’m all good.”

it's in between cars and stoplights that the car is filled with more emotion again, acting on it when you realize it when seokjin's mid-bite on his hashbrowns

“jin?”

“yes?” he speaks muffled, looking at you once before bringing his attention back on the changing stoplight

“love you.”

he feels himself still for a second even if his foot's on the gas and one hand is on the wheel, a somber look on his face that he later smiles sincerely

“love you too, kid.”

( ♡ )

“it’s not my birthday if that’s what you’re thinking.”

yoongi sleepily mumbles the moment he feels his bed dipping, his side that was once holding a pillow now being occupied by you

“i know.”

you wedge yourself between his heavy comforter, tossing and turning until it feels comfortable

“but i actually don’t know your birthday lol it’s-...”

“fuck right off.”

yoongi doesn't question why you're in his bed, because the last time you did, it was because you were left traumatized after seeing a genuinely good horror movie that it was pending to give you nightmares

he didn't see you watch any movie today though, but he'll take you in nonetheless

“kidding.”

you offer in consolation because yoongi's birthday is in your calendar even if you know it by heart, a mindless hum in reply

it's when you drop your arm on his waist like it's dead weight and relax completely, your face near to his mop of hair that it's making him think you're actually cuddling him rn

quick how can he get a picture of this to get this framed

“are you telling me now?”

he questions with his eyes half-open, shimmying backwards so that you're able to hug him more comfortably

“my airconditioner’s busted.”

“mhmm. give me ten minutes. i’ll fix it for you.”

it's 4 am and if your airconditioner really was busted, you wouldn't have let it stay busted for that long

“don’t. it’s okay. i wanna be here anyways.”

both you and yoongi know that your airconditioner’s in tip-top shape and is actually the one that blows the coldest air in the dorm

sometimes you think he’s an angel in disguise because there’s no way you deserve a human best friend like him

“yoongs?”

“hmm?” he hums before he falls asleep again, trying to keep up while having his eyes closed so he could listen to you

“you know that i’m really glad you’re in my life, right?”

oh

:)

“mhmm. you don’t say, sweets," he teasingly chuckles, feeling his ribcage rise in amusement under your arm

“fuck-“

“yeah, i know. i do, because you put me as your family member in your emergency contacts, but you don’t know that i know that.”

... oh

you don't even know how yoongi came to know but you don't question it, the warmth in your heart doubling

“love you.”

“love you too, y/n.”

( ♡ )

jungkook’s the most nervous he’s been in awhile

and that’s coming from him who sees yoongi in almost a daily basis

after all, jin did tell him you can be quite forgetful becasue you tend to take care of things all at once

he’ll sTILL try to be as smooth and casual as much as possible though

“big game tomorrow huh?”

and by big game that means as in your last qualifying game to whether or not your team would compete in the yearly (not to mention prestigious) soccer tournament

you chuckle at the thought because by now, you should already be sleeping and getting some rest even if it’s just seven in the evening

but you’re here <3 out at a park near jungkook’s dorm, sharing hand warmers <3

“yeah. it’s a make or break match.”

“i actually haven’t seen you play before, y’know," jungkook silently admits, looking down on his shoes as he thinks if he's just offended you

“really?” you ask in genuine curiosity, “then how come you interviewed me for your little survey when you haven’t watched me play before?”

oh

tHAT

“i uh, i actually just really wanted to talk to you that day. i-i don’t normally approach people first, but you just looked warm enough for me to reach out first.”

he's babbling before he even knows it, oblivious the growing smile on your face

“then i asked jimin because he kNOWS everything, and it was all in good fate that it turned out you were the soccer captain!! i was excited because i had a legitimate reason to talk to you that day.”

so that’s why

he wanted to talk to you even before his lunchboxes were taken out of the situation!!!

“how about me? why was it me?”

ahem

you're not trying to be funny but you can't help but chuckle, scratching the back of your ear in thought

“i honestly couldn’t tell either, jungkook.”

he almost coughs in shock, masking it off with playing it off for the bite of the chill of the night

“all i know is that something told me it was you,” you timidly add, looking down on your hands. “and i went for it.”

right can he chalk up mad blushing to the night air

he fiddles with the drawstrings of his sweatpants this time, his eye contact with you becoming fidgety

“big game tomorrow,” he repeats and you're just about to tell him that your conversation sounds like it's gonna be repeated

“don’t forget your eyedrops, alright?”

....

was that smooth enough

“eyedrops?”

yeah

uhm

that was... random

“oh right! you gave them back to me.”

“yeah. you should open it tonight, probably. to see if it’s already all-evaporated, y’know? if it is, then let me know tomorrow so i can buy you new ones.”

“highly doubt that they would, but alright, kook.”

you take the little banter to be your cue to walk back to your dorm, about to say goodbye to him when he makes an audible sound of confusion

it confuses you even more when he's trailing behind you

“your dorm’s twenty feet away from where we are, jungkook.”

“y-yeah i know that!! i’m walking you home, silly.”

right!!

hee-hee

he’s keeping his hands to himself even if he BADLY wants to hold your hand or even your forearm but he has to resist that urge rn

but he does intentionally brush shoulders with you and mumble “pothole.” so he could nUDGE you to the side even if there aren’t any to begin with

silence with jungkook now is comfortable as it has been for more than awhile, the walk passing by faster that you almost wish you walked slower

goddamn it he should've said there was a pothole atleast ten more times to make the walk longer

“goodnight, koo.”

“goodnight, y/n.”

there’s obviously no goodnight kiss but he dOES get a squeeze on his bicep

you take your time when you come home — to unwind as much as you could before you stress yourself out tomorrow

your shower routine may have took a little longer this time but it makes you get dressed as quick as you could when your eyes see the origami box you've been putting off from opening, one that jungkook just told you to open, because as far as you knew they were just EYEDROPS!!!

... the supposed bottle of eyedrops that’s too well-packaged and clearly thought-out

an origami box, a carebear heart initial drawstring pouch AND a plain ziplock baggie as if the other two weren’t enough

it’s when you open the box within the ziplock bag that you feel it’s definitely not as light as a bottle of eyedrops would be

there’s a very visible dent weighing down on the pouch (that’s within the origami box) that’s cLEARLY not your eyedrops

you’re actually nervous to the point that you just open unfurl it with your eyes closed, feeling two items in there

the plastic bottle of eyedrops, and definitely the cool surface of what feels like

a bracelet?

it’s a pretty straightforward yet timelessly elegant silver link bracelet, equipped with a couple options for how tight or loose you want to wear it

it hits you all at once and god does it just render you speechless

jungkook has this bracelet too.

you’re quite speechless and in between looking at it up-close to avoiding looking at it at all, trying to calm your breathing by focusing on the eyedrops instead

the said eyedrops you've been so used to seeing that you immediately sense that there's something oFF with the label???

its stuck-on, that's for sure, but something about it is not as seamless and stationary and official as it should be

it's almost as if there's something snuck inside it and-

...

..... there is

it's scotch tape that's just as thin as the actual label of the bottle itself, having to peel the whole label in order to see it in entirety

it's the same double-sided label jungkook worked so hard to peel flawlessly so he could try and replicate it in the same exact design and measurements, having to even take it up to a classmate from stem he once knew that transferred to graphic design

(yeonjun did ask for a science paper in exchange for his replication of the eyedrops slash adhesive label because who fucking kNEW he still had science even when in graphic design, but jungkook thinks it's fair trade so it's worth it)

it's the same exact label jungkook's had for a month and only recently gave it to you a week ago, a truth he's long since known

it's the same exact label that reads —

i love you

— in his handwriting you've come to known by heart, the label in your hand feeling much more heavy than the bracelet in the other

you already know what to do.

.

.

.

it's game day and u are about to launch yourself into orbit if you hear oNE more drum cheer because it just makes you nervous even more

yeah SURE it makes you pumped when it's the actual game itself but not now!!! not now when you're pumping yourself with electrolytes and at the risk of peeing from nervousness and too much hydration

you haven't seen seokjin nor yoongi yet and as much as that lessens the pressure on you, that alsO makes you nervous because they're your emotional support people!!!! where r they

usually you would see them in the front row of the bleachers and neither of them have any snacks because all of their focus would be on you

jin is nOT mr. kim from student affairs when it comes to your games,,, nuh-uh sir,,, he's that guy from the other team that glares so hard it dISTRACTS me from scoring in the perspective of the opposing team

coach's about to whistle like five minutes from now for a final huddle and everyone's getting their final stretches in

you're too busy looking for people that you actually want to be here that you're taken off-guard when one of them grasps at your forearm, a breathless smile one his face

"give them hell out there, alright. you're a champ."

it's jungkook!!!

IT'S JUNGKOOK!!!!@&$&":@:"$

he looks especially handsome today that you just short-circuit immediately

he's wearing a shirt with your team colors on it aND!!!

he ditched his glasses today to wear contacts, not only because he wanted to look a bit more different and special today, but because he's also scared that a ball would be thrown in his direction and injure him with the additional impact of his glasses

his hair's pushed back with his forehead showing instead of his usual hairstyle and god is it making you a little dizzy

he's beaming at you and his eyes immediately wander to your wrist, not expecting the feeling in his gut next

you're not wearing the bracelet.

jungkook feels the sudden urge to cry even when in public but it's when you grip at his forearm tightly that he stays still, squeaking when you realize his line of thought

"can't wear any jewelry on the field. i-i'm wearing your bracelet as an anklet for the meantime, it's underneath my sock."

...

....

...... oh my god

jungkook's never felt this frozen and euphoric at the same time, sputtering over nothing when your face looks like the furthest thing from joking

you're about to excuse yourself suddenly when your eyes finally take notice what's thrown on his shoulder, something about it being so familiar that it throws you off for awhile

"is that my jersey?"

he nods eagerly to your query, proudly unfolding it for you to see your spare soccer jersey with your surname and number right on it, the exact marks being the same from when you tried to use a laundry pen on it

he didn't get it replicated???

"h-how did you get that? where did you get that?"

jungkook thought you'd never ask, the words he never thought he'd say already leaving his lips

"yoongi gave it to me."

you only have a handful of jerseys on-hand and even if you could always request for more, the ones you have at home are a little more sentimental

you gave jin and yoongs one each from the only several ones you had, and you know yoongi would not give up his for jungkook

but now, you do know that he snuck to your closet and took one to give it to jungkook willingly, trusting him enough to give it to you behind your back

kook's sTILL not fully-forgiven but they're getting there sooner or later

wait why is this making you cry

before you know it, you're pushing yourself to jungkook to hug him tightly, the boy being surprised for a second but ultimately reciprocating once it registers

"i love you too."

.

.

.

.

.

this is the last chronological update for stem koo aka lunchbox lovers!! however, this is not the end of them!! with the end of this chronological series, this means that all the future updates don't necessarily have to be linked — they're miscellaneous and don't have to follow a specific layout like this part of their arc.

with that said, feel free to send in asks on what you want to see from the lunchbox lovers (misc. requests, questions, and everything in between) and i'd love to fulfill them because after all, this series was born purely out of your ideas <3 also pls send in ur thoughts and feedback and love because i have da greatest time reading through all of them!! thank you for all the love for da stem koo universe <3

[thefanficmonster]

Real Friends

Valkyrae & Reader (Male)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: SMAU, Platonic fluff, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Following an accidental and not very consensual face reveal, Y/N’s dealing the sudden shift of the spotlight on him even more than it was before. Being the big deal he is on social media, the internet has every right to be freaking out. Luckily, he’s got a friend to help him cope with it all.

Requested by @iawaythrown Hii! Thank you so much for your request! I’m so sorry for how long it has taken me to complete your request and post it but here it finally is. I’ve never written a SMAU before so this isn’t the classic SMAU format but I still hope you’ll enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

Imagine you end a toxic relationship of almost a year and go to bed feeling like a ton of bricks has been lifted off you, like you can finally breathe properly and like you’re finally getting a taste of freedom. The very freedom you chose to lose by getting in the toxic relationship in the first place. Of course, I didn’t know it was toxic at the time, probably cause it wasn’t, but it gradually turned into a nightmare.

A nightmare that keeps haunting me even after I thought I had put an end to it.

Apparently, that was wishful thinking cause I woke up this morning to find an unbelievable number of notifications and messages from friends, family and my manager and associates. Being in the music industry as a faceless creator, I keep my circle tight and it only consists of people I can trust so to see them all freaking out at me at once, even the most level-headed ones, freaked me out too. Quickly, I opened the first notification I reflexively tapped on and it opened a post in which someone had tagged me.

A picture taken of me while I was asleep, no doubt one taken by my ex. That being said, I think we can all have a guess at who posted it in the first place. I didn’t listen to my manager when he told me to not allow anyone I trust 1000% into my inner circle. I was foolish and at the peak of my career, feeling on top of the world and feeling invincible which was rare for me. I’ve always been insecure about many things in my life, growing up with a lot of judgy people made me be that way. Not to mention that I didn’t want to be the victim of the internet’s racism either. People turn a blind eye most of the time, but it’s still there, it still exists and looms over all social media platforms, disturbing people’s peace left and right.  You see, I didn’t want people to have an opinion of my art based on my appearance or associations with other creators. I’m pretty good friends with many content creators, especially in the gaming industry, but I’ve never wanted to be put in a box as one of the many friends of someone famous. I made a name for myself without anyone knowing who I am exactly.

And now they all know because of this photo that my ex sent to float down the rivers of hungry social media:

Damn am I gonna get an earful from my manager or what. It’s still rater early though and I’m really not about to deal with this drama on a caffeine-free brain so if there are any calls, emails or messages that need answering - and yes, there are PLENTY of them - they’ll all have to wait until I feel like dealing with them. I’m glad I don’t have to keep up this unbothered charade at home since I live alone cause I seriously don’t feel ok with this. I mean, I could probably report it, but what use would that be when my brand now has a face and a huge chunk of my privacy has already surfaced against my will.

As I sit in my kitchen, sipping my coffee, I finally gather the nerve to at least scroll through the notifications that I’ve received. Fans reaching out, relatives, friends, pissed off people that are there just to exist and try to disturb my peaceful existence but all they’re gonna get is a hard DELETE from me. I have offers on top of offers for modeling pending, waiting on my response. I’ve never considered it, being a faceless creator and all, but my manager will definitely want to milk some cash from this too. That thought makes me sigh in defeat. I have no one to blame but myself for trusting my ex. No one made me do it, no one made me let them in, but I still did, fucking myself over insanely. Just like they’ve now fucked me over.

Amongst the sea of notifications and yet to be opened messages, one in particular stands out and makes me do a double take. It’s a message from my friend Rae - Valkyrae, as she’s known online. She’s one of those gamer friends I mentioned earlier, probably the one I’m closest with. Her and I talk on the regular so seeing a message from her in my inbox is nothing unusual so I wonder why that was the one that stuck out to me. Regardless, that’s the only one I feel like opening and replying to at the moment.

V ~ Hey Y/N, you doing ok? This all must be really hard on you so don’t feel obligated to reply. Do so when you can or want to. I’m here if you wanna talk

Of course Rae would be the one to know how I truly feel in a situation like this. I can act and cover up all I want but she knows exactly what’s underneath the surface of my façade. That third eye friends have for each other, it’s incredible.

Me ~ Doing ok. Wasn’t expecting to wake up to this but now that millions of people know what I look like it feels oddly bittersweet, you know? Like I don’t have to go out of my way to hide anymore but I’m also gonna miss that privacy I had while I was a phantom

Me ~ On the upside: people want me to be a model now XD

My message goes to Seen almost write away, the Typing icon appearing shortly after the messages were read. I wait for Rae’s reply, sipping my slowly cooling coffee with little interest due to how invested I am in our conversation. If there’s a person who can make light of this situation, it’s Rae, no doubt about it.

V ~ I know what you mean. It’s not gonna be easy to adjust to but you will get used to it eventually. I’m sure you’ll even grow to like it. Promise you, it’s not that scary to be exposed, there’s literal millions of people who support you wholeheartedly :) 

V ~ Us, your friends, are here too! Never forget that, we’ve always got your back, Y/N!

V ~ Oh and you really should be a model! Whoever’s saying that has got the right idea. Maybe don’t fear this new change, but embrace it! Take this new turn in your life confidently. Sure, it was out of the blue, but do you really want the person who exposed you to feel the satisfaction of bringing you down? That doesn’t sound like you at all tbh

The epiphany strikes me as soon as Rae’s words sink in as I read them. She’s 100% right. The last thing I want is for my ex to think they’ve won. I refuse to give them the pleasure of tasting victory on the expense of my mental health and career progress. In fact, imma show them just how much they benefited me. But first...

Me ~ Thank you so much, Rae. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for this eye-opener

Me ~ I owe you one <3

I sure as hell owe her one, but for now I have other battles to win.

Rifling through my gallery, I find one more recent picture and without a shred of doubt or hesitation, I go straight to Instagram to post it.

~ “Since y’all were curious...And since y’all wanna see me model, you’re welcome” ~

Within seconds likes and comments start flowing in like a riptide, taking over my phone that, despite being charged all night, is already at half of its battery life.

I refresh the page with the post to look at the new comments that have come through, all supportive and complimenting me, some are real thirsty and some are incredibly kind. And even in that sea, her comment still sticks out to me, making me grin like an idiot.

“That’s what I was talking about! Work it, Y/N!“

[sequinsmile-x]

Day-to-Day

Emily is the glue that holds the family together, aka five times the Hotchner family needed Emily.

A story in the “5 times + 1″ format.  

Part of the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

Chapter 1 - Amelia. 

Read on AO3 via this link, or below the cut

March 2010

Aaron wakes to his bed being empty. He rubs his eyes, trying to remove the last remnants of sleep, and he turns to check the alarm clock, groaning when he sees it’s 3am. He touches the other side of the bed and feels that the sheets are cold, indicating that his wife had been gone for some time. Amelia had been off the evening before, their usually happy baby grouchy and sleepy. Which was always the first sign that she was coming down with something. Theo had been ill the week before, a bug he’d picked up from school, and Aaron had naively hoped they’d managed to avoid it being passed on to the youngest Hotchner.

He sits on the side of the bed and spots light filtering out from under the ensuite door. He walks over, opening the door to find his wife laying back in the bath, Amelia dozing on her chest. Emily looks tired, a small smile on her face when she spots him. “Hey.” She rasps out, staying quiet so she doesn't wake their daughter.

“Hey, sweetheart.” Aaron walks in and kneels on the floor next to the bath. “Everything ok?”

“She woke up about an hour ago, she had a fever. I thought a lukewarm bath might bring it down, but she started to cry every time I tried to put her in here herself.” Emily says gently, placing a hand on Amelia’s forehead. “It’s come down a bit.”

“You should have woken me up.” He says, placing a hand on their daughter's back. “I’d have helped.”

“It’s ok, honey.” She says placing her hand over his. “You need your sleep, work has been rough on you lately.”

“Right.” He says, with a raised eyebrow. “Because your job is a piece of cake.” Aaron links their fingers and runs a thumb over her knuckles. “You don’t have to do it all on your own anymore, Em. I’m here now. We’re all here.”

She purses her lips together and nods at him. It was still her instinct sometimes to try and do it all by herself, especially anything to do with the kids. Memories of those months spent alone waiting for Foyet to be stopped were sharp, and sometimes it still took her breath away. How close they had come to losing everything.

“Can you take her?” She asks softly. “She should be fine for now.”

“Of course.” He lifts the toddler off of his wife's chest and wraps her in a towel. Amelia wakes almost immediately, grumbling at being removed from her mother. “Let’s go get you dressed sweetie.”

He takes Amelia to the nursery and puts a fresh diaper on her, and a thin sleepsuit. He frowns at the warmth still on her skin, and soothes her when she starts to cry again. “I know what you want, you want Mommy.” He lifts Amelia into his arms and kisses her forehead. “I don’t blame you, I always want her when I feel sick too.”

Emily is already in bed dressed in one of his shirts when he walks back into their bedroom. Amelia immediately reaches out for Emily, the little girl's face already scrunched up as she cries. He passes Amelia over, lets his wife take him into her arms. “Mama.”

“You’re ok, sweet girl.” Emily says, running a hand over the back of her daughter’s head. She kisses her forehead and frowns. “It’s gone down, but she’s still warm.”

“We’ll call the doctor if she’s still got a temperature in the morning.” He says. Emily nods, settling Amelia so she is resting against her chest. The little girl's favorite place to sleep when she was sick or sad. “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to get any sleep if she’s in here.”

“I know.” She replies, soothing the small coughs coming out of Amelia by rubbing her back. “I’ll get someone to drop some case files and paperwork here tomorrow, work from here until she’s better.”

“And if you get a case?”

She glares at him. “Then I’m sure the team can handle it without me. It’s not like they haven’t before.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I’m not leaving her if she’s sick, Aaron.” She says, her voice firm. “She only settles for me if she’s sick and I’m not putting either of you through that.”

He knew his wife somehow felt responsible for his delicate relationship with his daughter. Things were better now, so much better, but he couldn’t say it didn’t hurt when Ameila, or any of their kids, immediately reached for Emily when something was wrong. The six months they had spent alone together had formed a bond he loved, but that he was also, in his worst moments, jealous of.

He wants to argue, wants to say that eventually something would happen with one of the kids when she wasn’t there, but he knows this isn’t the time. That it can wait until it isn’t almost 4am and she has their feverish daughter pressed against her.

“It’s a good thing your boss is so understanding.”

Emily smiles at him. “Well, I do repay his understanding with blow jobs so I think it’s earned.” _________________

May 2024

Ameila was Emily through and through. It was something Aaron, and just about everyone they knew, said frequently. She looked like Emily. She had her nose, her dark eyes and hair, and the same smile that had always been able to convince Aaron to do just about anything. Amelia had inherited her fathers jawline and his seriousness, her frown, a pure ‘Hotch’ look that Penelope had often joked would serve her well in whatever she decided to do in the future.

She also had Emily’s attitude. A need to know everything, to push all the boundaries around her, that often drove Aaron to the edge of his sanity in a way neither of his sons ever had. Elizabeth often commented on how similar Amelia and Emily were, and he never missed the way she smirked at him when she said it.

Emily was fiercely protective of Amelia. Aaron knew it was because their daughter was the only one of their kids who didn’t remember the incident with Foyet. She was so small when it happened, only a few months old when her family was torn apart by the actions of a psychopath, and they were grateful for it. Jack and Theo still bore the scars of what happened, years of therapy had done them wonders, but it still surfaced at times, almost unexpectedly. Leading to Theo calling in the middle of the night, the now 21 year old plagued by nightmares that his mother was dead, only calmed down by the sound of her tired voice over the phone.

The first time Amelia really pushes the boundaries with her parents is when she comes home one day with her nose pierced. The ring in her nose was massive, big enough to allow for the swelling that would follow, drawing her parents attention to it immediately.

“What the hell is that in your nose?” Aaron asks, annoyance clear in his tone.

“It’s a nose ring, Dad.” Amelia answers, her eyes rolling as she hangs her keys up. “I got it done after school.”

“And who said you could do that?”

“It’s my nose. I didn’t realise I needed permission.”

“Ok.” Emily interrupts, placing a hand on her husband's arm to try and diffuse the situation. “I think what your dad is trying to say is that you should run this stuff past us, ok?”

Amelia scoffs. “Well it’s your nose I inherited, surely you understand why I wanted to do something to it.” She walks past her parents and goes up the stairs before the conversation can go any further. “I have homework.”

_________________

Aaron walks into their en-suite later that night to find Emily standing in front of the mirror scrutinising her appearance. He leant against the doorframe and watched as she turned her head side to side, running her finger down the slope of her nose. Her eyebrows furrowed as she looked at herself straight on again, her finger pressed into the tip.

“Em?”

She turns to look at him, taking her hand away from her nose as she does. He doesn’t miss the shy look on her face as she wrung her hands together. “Do you think my nose is weird?”

He frowns at her. “What? No.”

“I know it’s ridiculous. I’m 53 for fuck sake.” She mutters to herself.

He kisses the tip of her nose and she smiles at him. “You’re beautiful.”

“And you’re ridiculous.” She wraps her arms around him anyway, pulling him in for a kiss. “It will look better when she can switch to a smaller ring.”

“It will look better when she just takes it out.”

Emily laughs, shaking her head at him. “Come on, let's go to bed. Some of us have work in the morning.”

He raises an eyebrow at her as he always did when she referred to his early retirement, even though it had been years since he left the FBI. “Whatever you want, sweetheart.”

_________________

The casual mention of a boyfriend, a boy from Amelia’s art class called Chase, almost sends Aaron orbital. He manages to keep his opinions to himself until Amelia has gone to bed and he’s just in the kitchen with his wife, helping her with the dishes even though it was long ago established as her chore since she never cooked.

“She’s not that bad, Aaron.”

He scoffs at his wife. “She’s going to make me go grey.”

“Honey. Amelia is a teenage girl. A pretty well behaved one in comparison to what I was like.”

“Suddenly I feel a lot more sympathy for Elizabeth than I ever have before.” He mutters as he continues to put dishes away.

“What was that?” She raises an eyebrow at him.

“Nothing, sweetheart.”

She narrows her eyes at him as she passes him another plate, patting his cheek with her spare hand. “You’re already grey, Aaron. It’s got nothing to do with the fact our daughter has a boyfriend. Or a nose ring.” _________________

Emily finally loses her cool two weeks later. They are eating dinner, just her, Amelia and Aaron, when she spots something on her daughter's wrist as she reaches for more salad. Emily grabs Amelia’s arm and pulls her sleeve back slightly to reveal a, admittedly very small, heart tattoo onto her daughter’s wrist. It was crude, slightly wonky and clearly not a professional one.

“What the hell is this?” She asks, staring her daughter down.

Amelia tears her arm out of her mother’s grasp and pulls her sleeve back down. “It’s a tattoo, Mom.”

“A tattoo? When did that happen?” Emily looks over at Aaron, who to her annoyance looked slightly amused that she was finally reacting like he had been all along.

“We did them at school.” Amelia answers, taking another bite of her dinner.

Emily’s initial reaction of telling her daughter how dangerous that was, how stupid, was drowned out by her overriding fear of who exactly had done this. “What do you mean ‘we’?”

“Chase and I did them. We have matching ones.” Amelia says, looking at her mother with a challenge on her face. “I don’t see what the big deal is Mom, you have tattoos.”

Emily glares at her husband when he chokes out a laugh at that, and he quickly excuses himself from the table. She turns back to her daughter. “Amelia, it really wasn’t very safe to do that. You have to let professionals do this kind of thing.”

Amelia rolls her eyes as she takes the final bite of her dinner. “Whatever.” She gets up from the table, already half out of the dining room before she speaks again. “I need to go FaceTime Chase.”

Emily puts her head in her hands as soon as she is alone. Her daughter was too much like her for her own good, independent and wilful almost to a fault. Emily loved that Amelia was like that, that she was so sure of herself in a way that Emily certainly hadn’t been at her age. She took it as a testament to her and Aaron’s parenting, but right now she was struggling with it. She just wanted to sit Amelia down and tell her that not everyone in the world had her best intentions at heart, and Emily had an increasingly sinking feeling that Chase was one of those people.

She blows out a breath and stands up, starting to collect the dishes from the evening meal. Emily hears her husband re-enter the room. “I’m going to get her some antiseptic cream to put on it. Who the hell knows where they got the needle they did it with from.”

“Emily-”

“She gave herself a matching tattoo with her boyfriend, Aaron.” She says, putting the dishes she had been holding back down on the dining room table. “They’ve been together for 8 weeks.”

He steps towards her and places his hands on her hips. “What was it you told me last week? That it will work itself out eventually.”

“She thinks she loves him, honey.” Emily lamented, allowing her husband to pull her into his arms. “And I know he’s going to break her heart.”

Aaron kisses her. “Sweetheart, we can’t protect her from that.” He kisses her again, cupping her cheek with his hand. “All we can do is be here for her if it happens.”

Emily rests her forehead on his chest. “Now who's being annoying ok about all of this?”

_________________

“This is where I found out I was pregnant with you.” Emily says offhandedly, a wistful smile on her face. It was so long ago now, but she still remembered the joy she had felt when she first saw Amelia on screen. The baby she had always been told she couldn’t have was now this amazing person she couldn’t imagine her life without.

Emily looks at her daughter when she doesn’t get a response, and she stops herself from laughing when she sees how pointedly Amelia is ignoring her. “Oh really, Mom?” She says to herself. “That’s so interesting.”

“Mom, I cannot believe you are doing this.” Amelia seethes, looking at the floor of the clinic they were in. Embarrassment coming off of her in waves. “This is so embarrassing.”

Emily rolls her eyes, and bites back a comment about how if she found birth control embarrassing then she should think twice about having sex. “I just want you to be safe, ok? You’ve got a boyfriend now and whilst I am not exactly delighted at the idea of you having sex.” She says, not missing how her daughter grimaces. “I don’t want you to take any chances.”

“Amelia Hotchner?”

Emily and Amelia look up to see Joanne standing at the door to her office looking expectantly at them. Emily smiles at her, Amelia does not, and the latter sighs as she stands up. She takes a few steps towards Joanne, only pausing when she realises her mother isn’t following her.

“Well you may as well come in. This was your idea after all.” Amelia says, annoyance colouring her tone. Emily sees past it, spotting the way her daughter nervously wrings her hands, fingers digging at her cuticles in a way she had picked up from her.

“Of course, sweetie.” She stands and walks up to her daughter, and guides her into Joanne’s office with a gentle hand on her back.

_________________

“You did what??” Aaron asks, seething, as they get ready for bed side by side in their ensuite. He turns to her, a disbelieving look on his face.

“I took her to get birth control.” Emily answers around her toothbrush, spitting into the sink. She rinses it and places it next to his in the holder.

“Why?” He is glaring at her, and she's suddenly more glad than ever that she hadn’t broached this subject with him until after Amelia had a packet of pills sitting in her bathroom cabinet, with very explicit instructions on the importance of taking it correctly from both Emily and Joanne. “Is she sleeping with him?”

“I don’t even know if she is having sex yet. But you know these things happen. I bought the boys condoms when they were teenagers.” She purposely misses out that she had also bought Amelia condoms, thinking that admission might make her husband's head explode. “I wanted to make sure she takes precautions if she takes that step.”

“She’s 15, Emily.”

“Yeah, and so was I.” She closes her eyes and sighs, turning to look at her husband as she crosses her arms across her chest. She looks at him and bites her lip, trying to figure out what she’s been wanting to say. “Aaron, I just don’t want what happened to me to happen to her.”

Emily can see the moment it registers in his head. The way his brow unfurls, his whole body unclenching as the anger seeps out of him, replaced by concern for her. He takes a step towards her. “Sweetheart…”

She shakes her head at herself, wiping a stray tear away that had fallen at the admission. “She deserves better than that.”

He sighs as he drags her into a hug, one she gladly returns, wrapping her arms around his back. “You deserved better than that too.”

Emily buries her face into his neck, breathes in the scent of him that had comforted her for more than half her life. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” _________________

Three days later it becomes a non issue. Amelia is out with friends, and Chase, leaving Aaron and Emily with the house to themselves.

Emily is sitting in her husband's lap on their couch. His hands up her shirt and his tongue in her mouth, when she hears it. A car door slamming on edge of her consciousness, someone running up the steps of their porch. She pulls back from Aaron, the dazed look on his face surely matching the one on her own. “Did you hear that?” She breathes out.

They hear a key in the door and break apart like they’ve burnt each other, both standing as the front door opens.

Amelia bursts in, tears streaming down her face. She drops her bag at the front door, her school things abandoned in the foyer of their home, and as soon as her eyes land on Emily her face crumbles. The steady stream of tears turning into sobs. “Mom.”

“Amelia?” She closes the gap between them, concern for her daughter overriding anything else, any lingering hopes she had of alone time with her husband gone in an instant. Amelia is in her arms in seconds, clawing at her shirt to try and get as close as possible. She buries her face into Emily’s shoulder and weeps. Emily cups the back of her daughter’s head, and runs her other hand up and down her back. “Oh sweetheart, it’s ok.” She soothes. “You’ll be ok.”

Emily exchanges a concerned look with Aaron over the top of their daughter's head and she shakes her head at him slightly when he takes a step towards them, silently asking him to leave it to her. He understands, just like he always had, and leaves them to it despite wanting to know exactly what has upset Amelia this much.

“Mia, honey.” She says gently, hand still tangled in her daughter's dark hair. She tries to pull back slightly, cupping Amelia’s cheek, but she holds on to her tighter, sobs still tearing out of her throat. “Let’s move over to the couch, ok?”

Amelia nods against her but doesn’t separate herself from her mother at all. Emily carefully guides her over to the couch and sits down. Amelia curls into her, wrapping herself around her in a way she hadn’t done in years. Emily wraps her arms around her, and whispers random words of comfort into her daughter's hair.

“Sweetheart.” She says gently, pulling away enough that she can cup Amelia’s face in her hands. She wipes tears away from her cheeks with her thumbs. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, not until you’re ready, but I need to know if you’re hurt.”

Amelia shakes her head. “Not hurt.” She says, her words choked by her tears. She leans back into Emily, pressing her face into her neck.

“Ok, sweet girl.” Emily says the old nickname, one she hadn’t used since Amelia was 9 and turned her nose up at it, slipping out without thinking. She presses a kiss on her daughter's head. “I’m right here.”

It takes almost 30 minutes for Amelia to calm down, for her sobs to dissipate into sniffs and a hoarseness in her throat as she takes in ragged breaths. “He broke up with me.”

Emily frowns, holding her daughter impossibly tighter. “What?”

“Chase broke up with me.” Amelia says, pulling back so she could look at Emily properly. “He said I was boring.”

Emily covers her reaction to that, keeping her surprise away from her face. Boring was not a word she would have ever used to describe Amelia. She tucks some of Amelia’s hair behind her ear. “I’m so sorry, baby. I know you really liked him.”

Amelia snuggles back down into her, sniffing as she lays her head on Emily's shoulder. Emily runs her hand through her daughter's hair, soothing her as she finishes calming down. “What do you want to do?” Emily asks. “We could get Dad to go out and get Taco Bell.”

Amelia chokes out a laugh but shakes her head. “I think I just want to go to bed.”

“Whatever you want.” _________________

Aaron is pacing their bedroom when she enters it, softly closing the door behind her. He stops and looks at her, an expectant look on his face.

“He broke up with her.” Emily says. “She is heartbroken.” She hears how her own voice breaks as she tells him. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen her like that.” She shakes her head at herself. “The worst thing is when she told me what happened I felt relieved. She’s sitting there absolutely hysterical and I’m relieved?”

Aaron closes the distance between them and hugs her. “You’re a fantastic mom, Em. I won’t let you believe anything other than that.”

She chokes out a laugh, somehow still surprised after all these years that he was able to guess what was really bothering her without her saying it outloud. “You’re a pretty great dad yourself, Mr Hotchner.” Emily lets herself relax in her husband’s embrace for a little longer, she pulls back and looks up at him. “I’m going to go in and sleep with her tonight.”

“Ok, sweetheart.” He kisses her quickly before letting her go so she can get ready for bed. He watches as she pulls on pyjama pants and a soft t-shirt that once belonged to him.

Aaron admires his wife as she takes off her makeup from the day and puts her dark hair up, smiling as he catches sight of some grey flecks that she hates as she twists it into a bun. She never believes him when he says it, but he thinks she's more beautiful now than she was when they first met all those years ago. Emily had always been beautiful, from the 22 year old she was when they first met. Teasing smiles and flirty comments as she coaxed him out to a bar with her.

Emily always lamented aging, wondering where the time had gone. More self conscious now than she had been the entire time he had known her. All he saw in lines on her face that she thought made her look old was all the laughter and joy they’d had over the years. She was softer now, her hips wider, evidence that she had given him two of their children that made him find her even more attractive. The grey flecks in her hair, that he knew she’d get dyed again soon, that showed him just how long they had loved each other.

They had been together 31 years and sometimes Aaron felt every moment of it, every single thing that had happened to them since she kissed him at one of her mother’s events. It somehow also had passed in the blink of an eye, decades gone in seconds and he was still somehow lucky enough to have her by his side.

“You’re staring.” She says, pulling him out of his thoughts with an amused look on her face and a teasing tone to her voice.

He pulls her into his arms again, kisses her cheek, then her nose. Making her laugh as she tries to squirm away from him. “You’re beautiful.”

Emily rolls her eyes at him. “You’re ridiculous.” _________________

Ameila smiles shakily at her mother as she walks into her room. Emily walks over to her bed and climbs in on the spare side, settling down for the night. She lays on her side and looks at Amelia, tucking some hair behind her ear. “How are you doing, sweetie?”

Amelia sniffs, suppressing a sarcastic laugh. “I’ve been better.” She settles into her mother’s side, resting her head on her shoulder. In the darkness of her bedroom, with Emily’s arms wrapped tightly around her, she finally feels like she can admit the truth. “It’s because I wouldn’t have sex with him.”

“What do you mean?”

Amelia closes her eyes as she catches the tone in her mother’s voice, the dangerous edge to it that she was so rarely on the receiving end of. She had only ever really overheard it when she was talking to someone about work over the phone, or one the rare occasion her parents had a full blown row, their angry voices soon turning into other noises that Amelia thanked whoever was listening for the invention of noise cancelling headphones.

“That’s why he broke up with me.” Amela says, feeling tears build back up in her eyes. “Because I wouldn’t sleep with him.”

She feels her mother’s hold on her tighten, and the sharp intake of breath that she takes beneath her head. Emily kisses the top of her head. “You’re ok, sweetheart. Go to sleep.”

Amelia drifts off to the feel of her mother stroking her hair, something she hadn’t had happen since she was younger. She was surprised to realise how much she had missed it, regret for how she had started to rebuff her mother’s affection a few years back building in her chest. “I love you, Mom.”

“I love you too.” Another kiss to the top of her head. “Now get some sleep.”

She falls asleep, completely unaware of how Emily laid awake for hours, anger for a teenage boy she had only met once burning through her veins until she came up with a plan. _________________

Emily wakes in the morning to the sound of Amelia’s door opening. She opens her eyes to see her husband standing there, a takeout coffee holder in his hand, and an unsure look on his face.

She smiles at him as she sits up in bed and beckons him in. He switches the light on, which immediately wakes Amelia, her groans the first indication that she was up.

“Morning, sweetheart.” Aaron says kissing his wife before sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Morning.” She murmurs against his lips, before lifting the coffee she knew was intended for her. Cold brew with enough sweetener in it to rot your teeth.

“You guys suck.” Amelia groans from below the comforter, voice still thick with sleep.

Emily chuckles. “I think you’ll change your mind when you see what your dad has brought you.”

Amelia lifts the comforter from off of her face and shoots up when she sees her favourite frappuccino in her fathers hands. “Dad, you are the best.” She takes a sip and moans, the sugar hitting her tongue. “No wonder Mom has put up with you so long.”

Aaron laughs, glad to see that she seemed her usual self after how devastated she had been the night before. “Are you ok, Mia?”

She smiles at her dad, a shaky thing that was always the first indicator from his wife and daughter that tears were on the horizon. “I will be.” ______________

Emily’s first thought is to set Penelope on Chase. Let her hack into his social media accounts and digitally ruin his life for upsetting her little girl. For trying to pressure her into something she didn’t want to do. She knew Penelope would do it without a second thought. She was the most trusted confidant of all of the younger Hotchner's outside of their parents. Jack had asked for her help planning his over the top proposal to his now wife. Theo had come out to her first, a nervous teenager in her office asking for help on how he could tell his parents. Amelia went to her for advice on everything from boys to elaborate hairstyles, and Penelope gently discouraged her from dying her hair bright purple when she was 13, knowing it would have given Aaron an aneurysm.

Emily was finishing getting ready for work, Amelia already on her way to school, as she started to formulate a text to her friend, a cryptic request to come see her as soon as she got to work, when Aaron snuck up on her in the kitchen.

“You can’t get Penelope to ruin his life.”

Emily jumps, cursing under her breath. “Damn it, Aaron.” She turns to look at him, a sheepish look on her face. “I wasn’t planning on doing anything of the sort.”

“Oh really?” He raises an eyebrow at her. “You weren’t thinking of having her hack all of his social media accounts and freeze his bank account?”

Emily flushes and puts her phone down on the counter. “I can’t just let him get away with it.”

Aaron smiles at her and pulls her towards him with his hands on her hips. “Baby, this is something we have to let her deal with ok?” He kisses her cheek, his smile deepening as she narrows her eyes at him. “No getting Penelope involved.”

“Fine.”

Plan B it was. _________________

Emily is never happier than when she has all of her family in her house. The boys were coming round for dinner, Jack and his wife Sara and Theo and his new boyfriend Zach, someone he had met at college. Theo texted her that morning, a list of strict instructions of things that absolutely couldn’t happen the first time Zach was meeting the family.

She had just let them in, hugging her son fiercely as he walked in and feeling love bloom in her chest when he hugged her back just as tightly, no embarrassment at giving his mother this affection in front of Zach.

She lets him go and turns to the young man standing next to her son. “You must be Zach, I’m Emily.”

He shakes her hand, a nervous smile on his face. “Nice to meet you.”

Amelia bursts into the house, slamming the front door behind her, and immediately breaks the first rule on Theo’s list. “Мама, какого хрена?”

“Не сейчас, милая. У нас гости. И не ругайся.” Emily replies, tilting her head towards where Theo and Zach were standing.

“Ты должен был подумать об этом, прежде чем угрожать моему бывшему парню!”

Zach leans in to Theo, a confused look on his face. “Are they speaking Russian?”

Theo sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did so, and looks at his boyfriend. “Yes.” He turns to his mother. “Ne pouvons-nous pas le faire? C'est la première fois que Zach rencontre tout le monde.”

Amelia rolls her eyes and Emily smiles at Theo. “Je suis désolé, chérie. On va bien se comporter.”

“Are you speaking French?” Zach asks, looking even more confused at the complete nonchalonce all of the Hotchner’s were showing at the multiple languages being thrown around as if it was nothing. The slight look of amusement on Aaron’s face as he walked into the room. “How many languages does your mom speak?”

Theo grabs his boyfriend's hand and leads him further into the house, away from the rest of the family. “Six. Seven if you include English.” _________________

Emily eyes Sara curiously when she turns down wine with her dinner, a small look passes between her and Jack when she asks for soda instead. Emily shares a similar look with her own husband, a look on his face saying he had spotted what she had too, and she gladly gets an alternative drink for her daughter-in-law.

Amelia sulks all the way through dinner. Rebuffing her brother’s questions about school, a glare fixed on her mother almost the entire time. It’s when she refuses her favourite dessert, cheesecake, that her brother’s interest is piqued.

“Mills.” Theo asks, amusement on his face at his sister’s behaviour. “What’s up with you?”

“Why don’t you ask Mom?” She said, pointedly looking at her mother. “Мама пытается разрушить мою жизнь, вот в чем дело.”

“I did not try and ruin your life, Amelia.” She says, rolling her eyes at her daughter's dramatics. She looks at her sons and their respective partners. “All I did was have a conversation with the boy who made Amelia cry herself to sleep a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah. By explaining that you’re a Section Chief at the FBI, whilst you had your gun and badge on display.” Amelia exclaims.

There was a moment of silence at the table before it descended into laughter, confusion all over Zach’s face on whatever he had walked into.

“Oh sweetheart.” Aaron says, looping his arm around the back of her chair to place a hand on her shoulder. “Not again.”

Amelia frowns, looking at her parents in shock. “Not again? What the hell does that mean?”

“Mom’s crazy, Millie.” Theo says, a laugh bursting out of him.

“Hey, I resent that.” Emily says, sinking back into her chair slightly, glaring at Aaron when he laughs at her and kisses the side of her head.

Jack gives Emily a look with his eyebrows raised before looking back at his sister. “My first ever girlfriend broke up with me the day before homecoming, Mom scared the absolute shit out of her by showing up at her cheerleading practise the following day. She somehow managed to mention that Dad once killed a guy with his bare hands.”

“Your dad did what?” Zach asks, leaning in to Theo who just shook his head. A silent promise that he’d explain later.

“In my defence.” Emily says, crossing her arms across her chest, a slight flush to her face. “This one was really sick at the time and I was pretty sleep deprived.” She says pointing at Amelia. “I wasn’t entirely in control of my emotions, and you were just so sad.”

“She also made me very aware of what she does for a living when Jack and I first moved in together.” Sara pipes up, nothing but amusement on her face when she looks at her mother-in-law. She turns back to Amelia. “I think it’s sweet.”

Amelia shakes her head at them all and turns to Zach. “Run whilst you still can.” __________________

Emily closes the door behind Jack and Sara as they leave, promises of getting together soon uttered in between lingering hugs.

“Mom?”

Emily turns to see Amelia standing behind her, her hands in her pockets as she avoids her mother’s gaze. It’s the calmest she’s looked all evening, any frustration she had towards her and her actions having melted away.

“Look, I’m sorry, Amelia.” She says taking a step towards her daughter. “I know I probably shouldn’t have done that. But you were so upset, and he deserved to-”

Her ranting is cut off by Amelia throwing her arms around her waist and placing her head on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Emily smiles and hugs her daughter back, kissing the top of her head as she pulls her closer. “You’re welcome, sweetie.”

“I always thought it would be Dad, or Theo or Jack who went after a boy for me.” She says against her mother’s shirt before she pulls away. “At least I can tell any future guys that my mom is crazy.” _________________

Emily turns to lay on her side as Aaron joins her in bed, she smiles at him and pushes some hair off of his forehead before running her blunt nails over his temples, the mix of dark and grey hair rasping as she goes. “When do you think Jack and Sara are going to tell us she’s pregnant?”

A laugh peels out of Aaron before he leans forward and kisses her, pulling back only to press his forehead against hers. “Whenever they are ready.”

Emily shifts so her back is against him and pulls his arm over her waist, sighing when he settles his chest against her. “You’d think they’d learn they can’t hide anything from us.”

He kisses the top of her head and holds her a little tighter. “We’ve got some pretty great kids.”

“We really do.”

“You have got to stop threatening anyone who hurts them though.”

“Sure, love.” She says, pulling his hand up to her lips to kiss his knuckles. “I’ll stop.”

They both know she won’t.

[suchalonelysunflower]

Running Through My Dreams - A duet (l.h)

Pairing: Luke Hemmings x Fem! Reader

Summary: based on Remembering Sunday by All Time Low. A conversation with flashes of the past

Warnings: Angst. Language. Mentions of death (non graphic) Mentions of Alcohol. Some grammatical errors (English is not my first language and I did not proof read this, I’m sorry)

Word count: 2k

Author’s Note: Just experimenting with sad topics and a new form of writing. Hope everyone can understand bc formatting this was a nightmare. Remember that Reblogs, Feedback, Comments and Likes are very important! You have no idea how much they help 💕 Hope you like it and Happy Reading 🦋🌻✨

My Materialist // wanna be part of my taglist?

How to read: Bold: Luke; Italics: Reader. Together

This might work better on mobile.

I woke up alone again in the middle of the night, it’s the third time this week.

I’ve been leaving the bed early

hoping you’ll get used to it.

I stay long enough, always leaving

after 2AM

The pillow doesn’t smell like her anymore. It hasn’t for a long time. She thinks I don’t notice

I knew you would.

But everyday I feel her pull farther away from me.

It wasn’t always like this

But I knew it would come to

this.

Still,

I needed to move on

What time is it? It can‘t be too late, it’s only past 2 AM and my head is killing me. What did I do?

The bottle near the bed should

serve as an answer

Fuck.

Where is she?

Sunday seemed so far away, but it’s only been a couple of days. You’ve been staying at his place, claiming that your apartment needed some fixing that the landlord promised to do, but that you needed to go back every morning just to make sure everything was in place.

You just never told him how early you’d be there. Making him wake up to an empty bed.

You woke up with the smell of bacon, cursing at yourself for letting sleep take over you last night. You didn’t mean to stay but what’s done is done.

Luke was standing in the kitchen, chest bare as he cooked the eggs the way you liked them.

You always knew me more

than I knew myself

“Good morning, love” He said when he saw you standing, almost hiding behind the door to the kitchen.

He smiled, and god you wished you could hate it.

“Morning,” You mumbled, clearly not in a good mood. Morning always did that to you. But Luke didn’t mind, he still smiled and placed a kiss on your cheek as you took a seat on one of the chairs.

“Do you need to go today?” He asked, placing your breakfast in front of you.

I always hated when she had to leave

You would’ve hated me more

if I stayed, even if I wanted to

Maybe it was the look in his eyes that made you weak. Those baby blues haunted you from the very start and you found yourself unable to say no to them. That’s why it was easier to leave when he slept.

“I can stay if you want”

She could’ve stayed forever.

He smiled bigger than before, pulling your chair closer to him as he kissed you softly. You melted against him as the sirens in your head went off. You couldn’t let this happen.

I could’ve told her that I loved her, I knew I did.

Do you even know what love is?

She never believed in it. She was afraid to get close, but I knew she felt it, too. How could she not?

There was something there.

Something I didn’t know was

possible

Something I felt all along.

But it’s late, or early and she hasn’t responded. Maybe

I got it all wrong

She must be there, somewhere. She might be alone. And I’m here.

You are where I want you to be

Where did she go? The girl I fell in love?

You laugh bounced through the walls as he chased you down.

“Luke!” You half cried, half laughed “Stop!”

But he only got closer, tickling your sides every time he could catch you on a corner.

It was just a game, just a moment for the two of you where you could just be yourselves. You didn’t get much of that before.

Luke smiled at the sound of your giggles, feeling as if the melody of them could very much be the soundtrack of his own happiness. He felt a bolt of electricity with every light touch, gracing his fingers carefully upon your skin to make sure he’s not hurting you. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you.

But did I ever? Maybe without knowing.

Your skin was on fire wherever he touched, leaving a scorching trail as his movements slowed down. The tickles now became caresses as you let your body rest against a wall, sighing softly when you felt his fingers trail up your sides.

The goosebumps started to appear the moment you felt his breath near your lips. His head hung low, letting his forehead rest against yours as you looked into his eyes.

He didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. You knew by just a look where this was going and you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t want to let it happen.

Your hands flew to the back of his head as you pulled him into you, letting your lips capture his in a needed kiss.

You parted your lips when you felt his grip tighten on your waist, letting him deepen the kiss as he deem fit and making his tongue tangle with yours as he swallowed your moans into his mouth.

His body was against yours, pressing it to the wall and making you feel all of him as he covered your body completely. Never once letting your lips go until you gasped for air.

The look in both your eyes was clear as lust consumed your bodies. You pulled on his hand, smiling as you led him into the bedroom.

It was beautiful at the start

At the start we didn’t know

I should go to her, tell her I love her and that I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done.

You always took the blame

where there wasn’t one.

With the memories still playing inside his head, Luke got up from his place on the bed, instantly falling to the floor with his knees scraping against the carpet.

He didn’t know why his legs failed him when he tried to reach you, understanding that you were far away from where you were supposed to be.

She should be here. I need her here.

Luke got dressed as soon as he could. He knew he was too intoxicated to drive, he didn’t want to put anyone in danger; so he decided to walk.

He took his phone with him, smiling slightly when he noticed a missed call from you.

Why aren’t you picking up? Don’t you want to see me?

You were the only one who

could see me

I’m coming. I’ll find you. I know it’s not

It is

Too late

Your apartment building was just a few miles away, but Luke’s thoughts ran faster than he could. In his head he knew what to say once he saw you, once he made sure you were okay.

He had to tell you that he loved you, that he wouldn’t run away. He will give you all the time you need but, please.

Come back to me

The buttons all seemed the same to him, the names on the tags were too faded to even try and read them. But he knew your place by heart.

The second button to the left, just under the one who got a spot of red paint on it. It was the only apartment you could afford when you moved, but you loved it nonetheless.

He called, and called, and called, and called.

But the more he pressed the button, the more hopeless he felt.

Are you there? Can you hear me? I’m here. I’m here and I’m not leaving, not unless you want me to.

I don’t want to, but you will

Desperate, he starts pressing the buttons of your neighbors, hoping maybe one of them would let him in.

“I will call the police” Your upstairs neighbor said.

“Please,” Luke begged “I just need to speak with Y/N”

“Who?”

The man hung up. Luke tried another button.

“Anne?” A lady spoke.

Luke sighed “No, but I need to get into the building. My girlfriend needs me and it’s starting to rain, could you let me in, please?”

“Oh, sure, honey” The sweet lady said, opening the door for him.

Luke thanked the careless woman as he entered the building just before the few droplets of water fell upon his jacket.

He got up the stairs, skipping two steps as he tried to reach you as soon as possible. To hell with his dizzy head just as long as you were safe.

“Y/N?” He called, banging on your door loud enough to wake you up, but not too loud to disturb your neighbors.

I know you’re there

I know you’re here

“Y/N! Please let me in!”

He kept on banging, each one louder than the last one. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest as his concern grew with every second you were not answering the door.

It’s been days since he’s seen you. Days since you left after Sunday. Days since he’s been sober because you ignored him after telling him it was over, without any explanation as to why.

I’m not going to

Give up

I’m not going to answer

I have to tell her that I love her.

I wish I could tell you why

She’s my dream

A nightmare, perhaps

I don’t want to

You have to

Wake up

“Is there anything I can help you with?” A couple dressed in robes stood outside their door.

Luke stared at your neighbors for a while before he could respond. He dried the tears off his face before saying.

“My girlfriend, she hasn’t been answering her phone-“ He didn’t care that his voice sounded broken when his whole spirit was shattered “I- I mean, I just want to make sure that she’s okay because I need to talk to her. Have you seen her?”

The couple looked at each other, the man sighed.

“Are you sure you got the right door, son?” He asked.

Luke furrowed his brows, checking the number placed at the door one more before nodding.

“Oh, dear” The woman said emphatically “The lady that lived there moved”

“What?”

“She's been moving her stuff for days now, but I think tonight she made the big move and took off. She even left us the key for the landlord when he came” The woman signaled her husband and he disappeared into their home for a few seconds before appearing again with the key in hands “I’m so sorry, darling”

Luke shook his head. This was not possible, you couldn’t be….

Gone

“Do you want to check for yourself?” The man asked, handing Luke the key to your apartment.

He thanked the couple and apologized for the disturbance.

This can’t be true.

But what if it is?

She would’ve told me

I never told you how I felt

And now it’s

It can't be

Too late

Luke opened the door to your apartment, holding back a breath as he realized it was completely bare.

All your stuff were not there anymore. Not a picture or furniture that could prove your existence, not even a ghost that could testify that someone lived there once. A someone that he had loved.

He walked to the middle of your small living room, letting his eyes scan for anything that you might’ve left behind. Something that he could hold on to so he knows you’ll be back, or at least something that could tell him where you went.

The rain fell against the bare window, letting the shadows of the droplets racing through the glass plaster against the wooden floor, mirroring Luke’s tears as he realized that

I’m not coming back

Not like you expect me to

Why did she leave?

I thought it was for the best

But I regretted it the

moment I stepped into the

car

She could’ve come to me

I was coming back to you

I called and you didn’t

answer. So I tried again.

I swear i didn’t see that truck

coming my way.

Y/N

It all happened so fast

Y/N….

I’m not coming back

No….

I was terrified. But then

I was

I want to be

With you

Luke

I can’t understand

I did something so terrible

Could you…

Forgive me

I tried to find home when

home is where you are.

Now I’m in the clouds

I just need to know that you’re

I’m

Okay

I’ll be with you

But you won’t see me

I wished I could tell you how much I loved you

You already did

“Luke?”

The blonde man jumped at the sound of Ashton’s voice. He was standing in the middle of the field, letting the rain tower over him as he woke up from his nightmare.

It’s been three days since he stood in your apartment. Three days since he got the call from the hospital. Three days of unstoppable rain and grey clouds that seemed to be following him since the day he lost you.

Now, he stood in a black suit, letting his eyes wander over the carved letters of your name once again.

“Are you okay? Is there something you want to do? Something we can do?”

He stood still.

“I really thought I would marry her”

His band mates stood right by his side this whole time, never letting him out of sight. Letting their hearts break with him.

Calum placed a hand on his shoulder.

“She loved you, Luke. She would’ve want you to keep going”

Luke smiled sadly, “I always loved her more”

After a few minutes, Luke asked them to leave him alone with you to say goodbye.

He kneeled in front of the marble that laid on the ground, completely damped from all the rain, and smiled softly.

“I might never understand why you did it, why you ran, why they took you away from me far too soon when your car was headed back here… But, I know you were scared and I don’t blame you for that, you were always braver than me, even when you were afraid. You’ll have a lot to explain when we meet again, love, and I promise I won’t let you go when that happens. But until then, I’ll see you Sunday”

I’ll be here.

I love you

*

*

Tags: @iknowyouthinkimbulletproof @mystic-232 @talksoprettyjjx @theshyspy @hoodhoran @flaneurcth @matchacal @bubblegum18 @irwin-fletcher-ash @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @1980holland @wiiildflowerrr @hoplessromantic727 @fivesecondsofonedirection @another-lonely-heart @aabc5sauce @dudethisiswhyyoudonthavefriends @major5sosstan @myloverboyash @nicebasscalum @calumspupils @secretsicanthideanymore @the-ghost-of-ash @alltimesos @girlwhosimps @wontlastimokwiththat @ttinahood @kingxnichole @givebuckyhisplumsnow @hufflehemm @wildflower98

[boognish-worshipper]

ok so like i had this idea for a while n it took me MONTHS to finish bc i was nvr content w/ my writing n whatnot yadda yadda yadda anyway,, this is basically a what if thing about the triads shooting trevor in ludendorff n michael realizing how dumb he is

(my apologies that it’s so fuckin looooooong but I didn’t wanna leave it on a short note that felt incomplete. hope y’all like it !!!!! sorry for any grammatical errors or if the formatting’s funky)

//

Why didn’t he realize it sooner? Was he stupid? No, no. He was just blind. Blind for the past 10 years. Who knows. Maybe even longer than that. Fucking Michael. It always came back to that venomous shithead, constantly ruining everything for him. Did he just... forget? Was he so focused on that bloodsucker when he was “dying” in front of him he completely forgot Brad got shot first? That Brad died first? He didn’t even really think about him when shit went down. Or care much about Brad in general for that matter. The guy was a dick who just worked with other dicks back in the day, eventually joining their motley crew. A fading memory more than anything. His primary focus had always been Michael, who he thought was his right hand man. Trevor always knew that there was something different about him. As frustrating as Michael could be, it still didn’t change how he felt deep down. Michael wasn’t like the others. Or at least, that’s what he had thought. The night he found out that Michael’s lie ran deeper than he led on was one he wouldn’t forget.

He arrived at Michael’s house in a short amount of time. Hopping up the steps he made his presence known, standing in the entrance of the living room. He plopped down next to Michael, who scooted away from him slightly, still not ready for close contact from Trevor.

“Family ain’t back yet, huh?”

“Nope.”

“She’s a Goddamn fool, man.”

Trevor was never one to hide his jealousy towards Amanda. The two had been going at it for years, and it was always regarding Michael. Catty behavior between two people who had complicated relationships with the man, in their own unique ways. Amanda was scared of Trevor, but was never afraid of talking shit to his face. It was never any serious threats whenever they shot petty quips at one another anyway. She knew Trevor would never kill or harm her, all thanks to Michael, who spoke up again.

“Despite all the chaos of these last few weeks, I think I finally figured it out… I know, it sounds ridiculous-“

To Trevor, the thought wasn’t ridiculous. He knew Michael would never change. He would always be a killer, a man of action through and through. He was wasting away on a couch, rewatching classic Vinewood every night. To him, it only seemed right for Michael to keep taking scores.

“You’re back man!” He proclaimed, emphasizing his next line, “We are back!”

With excitement in his eyes, Trevor went on to boast about the little clique they had formed, and how they only needed to bust Brad out to fully reunite. Michael looked solemn, shaking his head slightly.

“That’s not it. I got money, it just makes you miserable-“ Now it was his turn to have excitement shine in his eyes.

“I wanna make movies.”

“Great. That’s great… and uh, so where exactly does this leave me in the second act of your life?”

He felt his stomach sink somewhat, regretting having asked that question. Michael would always tiptoe around it, avoiding the inevitable. But he couldn’t run from the past anymore. It would always catch up to him.

“This is not a game to me! Alright? This is a fuckin’ way of life.”

“I got a fuckin’ family!”

“Yeah, well, I got nothin’! No one gives a fuck about me!”

There was a pause. A hesitation. Amber eyes looked sorrowfully yet savagely into pale blue ones.

“I do.”

Something in Trevor snapped hearing those words. He couldn’t stand the audacity of Michael saying that to him. Because to him, Michael didn’t seem to give a fuck about what happened to Trevor. No matter how many times he lamented to him about everything he went through.

“Oh… Fuck you.”

Trevor rose from his seat, beginning to pace around the room, stabbing a finger in Michael’s direction. He did nothing but stare between his feet, not bothering to look up at Trevor.

“I saw your grave. I mourned you. And then it turns out that everything I fucking thought about you was wrong. Everything! You’re not dead, and you’re not a man.”

Michael shot up from his seat, cool demeanor abandoned in a fit of anger.

“Well, what the fuck are you?”

“I’m your fucking nightmare!”

“Yeah, enough with your Goddamn threats!”

Trevor did nothing but scoff at him, backing away like he was about to leave the room. Instead, some kind of alarm went off in his head, urging him to stay and ask the question he pushed far into the back of his mind. The inevitable was happening, and he couldn’t ignore the need to ask anymore. If Michael himself stood before him alive as ever, then who the fuck was in Michael Townley’s grave? Then suddenly, and ultimately, it clicked for him. Fucking Brad.

“You treacherous piece of shit! You’re fuckin’ dead! You’re fucking dead!”

As it clicked for Trevor, it clicked for Michael.

“Oh, fuck! Trevor! Hey, T!”

He peeled out of the driveway in Michael’s car. God, it smelled just like that fucking prick. It made him want to cry.

“Fuck!” He screamed out to no one in particular.

He slammed on the gas and wiped away any forming tears. His phone began to ring and he saw an all too familiar photo appear. Michael. What the fuck could he possibly say or want right now?

“Fuck you.” He spat out.

“Hey, come on. Where you going?”

“You know where I’m going, fuck you!”

The fucking nerve of him to ask that. What was wrong with him? The rest of the conversation wasn’t any better. It sounded like some stupid break up between two teens, as if Michael had cheated on him with some hooker instead of lying about the past decade or so.

“Trevor, come on!”

“Fuck you Michael! Soon enough, I will.”

He was on his way to the air field, and dialed up Ron as soon as he could. He needed to get out of here before Michael could stop him.

“Trevor? It’s great to uh..”

“Is there a plane I can use? Get me across country?”

“Sure! Sure. We got one fueled up for a trip south of the border.”

“I’m taking it.”

“Is everything okay, man?”

“Everything is not okay. Nothing has ever been okay but I’m going up there to see it for myself. I’m going to see an old friend alright? If you’re where I think you are buddy...”

Trevor gripped the steering wheel harder until his knuckles turned white. Tears stung his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to let it out.

“I don’t know why I didn’t see it. I guess.. I guess I didn’t want to. Fuck!”

He clutched his phone tightly as he spoke, cracking the already shattered screen more. His voice was faltering, and it became harder to speak clearly.

“Maybe I knew all along. I’m gonna find out for sure and I’m gonna... do something about it! God there was always something wrong with that job, what went down after I guess I-“

The tears made their way down his face. His voice trembled and threatened to crack.

“I guess I wanted to believe- Fucking.. Fucking flea circus!”

He couldn’t hold it in any longer. Too many things began to resurface. Seeing red, he just cried out to Ron, still on the phone patiently listening to him rant.

“Idiot! Idiot! Idiot!”

“I’m sorry Trevor...”

He slammed on the gas as he approached the airfield. Running over to the plane, he hopped in and began his journey to Ludendorff. As he left, storm clouds poured in and darkened the sky. A thick rain accompanied by the thunder and lighting combo shook the small plane he was in. He braced himself for the rest of the trip there and kept going.

Ludendorff was just like he remembered. Cold, empty, and super fucking depressing. Why was the midwest like this all the time? Sure, living it up in Sandy Shores wasn’t the most ideal but for fucks sake, at least it was warm. He pulled up to the cemetery shortly after landing, and hurried off to find that God forsaken grave. After glancing at each passing gravestone, there it was. The late great Michael Townley’s place of burial.

“Who you got in here..?”

He scoffed, knowing his answer.

“As if I need to ask...”

It took forever to reach the coffin. The wood was brittle, which meant it would be easy enough to pry open and see who was actually in Michael’s place. He had been so caught up in his digging he didn’t notice a set of steps coming at him.

“You’re wasting your time.”

Trevor was wasting his time? No, he was making perfectly good use of it. Michael was wasting his if anything. Flying all the way out here for what? No, don’t say it... Was it finally gonna happen? Was Michael waiting for the opportunity to finally take a pop at him and leave his carcass for good? To toss him right into the grave with Brad? He didn’t want to believe so but hey, it’s Michael. Who knows what he’ll do. He couldn’t bear to listen to another word that came out of his mouth, and knew he needed to get the jump on him.

“You reptilian motherfucker!”

How did it end up here? Why was he pointing a gun at Michael? What the fuck was he doing? He didn’t want to kill him. He never did, even if he had a million justifiable reasons to.

“I didn’t want it to have to come to this.”

There it was again. The fucking lying. That same exact fucking lying that got them here to begin with.

“Yes you did! You just don’t have the fucking balls to do it! But I do!”

But Trevor was also a hypocrite. He didn’t have it in him to ever go through with killing Michael. No matter what the son of a bitch did to him, he meant too much to Trevor for him to ever consider killing the man himself. He didn’t want to think about being the cause of him dying for good.

“I’ve got more to lose than you!”

“Never a truer word has been spoken, brother.”

He said that with as much malice as he could muster. Michael was the farthest fucking thing from being a brother. This was a man he had loved. Hell, still loved, despite it feeling more and more like a stranger before him with each encounter they had.

“Now.. pull the fucking trigger.”

The air was too still. It was choking him, making him feel frozen. Sure, weather played a part in the feeling but this... was different. His blood felt like ice. He couldn’t do it.

“You ain’t got the guts.”

Neither of them could do it. Even if he fired he knew he’d miss. Michael had the upper hand here.

“Take the fucking shot!”

Wait. Was Michael... crying? No. No way the great Michael fucking Townley was actually crying over this. That motherfucker. He’s such a fucking fraud. A coward. Always running. Running from Trevor, his past, his problems, his family and his fucking emotions.

His train of thought had been interrupted when he heard snow faintly crunching not too far from them.

“What was that?-“

A noise shot through the tense air that surrounded them. Woosh. Fuck. No. It couldn’t be- Ow. No. No fucking way. He looked down in awe and there it was, a distinct bullet hole, pierced through his torso. It nearly missed his heart, but was most certainly in a spot to do enough damage to him. He looked back up at Michael, mouth slightly agape leaking with the blood that began to pool in his mouth. Peaking behind him, he saw two figures lingering far behind. The fucking Triads. Of course, how could he forget? It’s not everyday you slam the head of a Chinese mobster’s son into a post. Fucking shit. If only he hadn’t messed with Tao…

He was fucked, and he didn’t know what to do. All he knew was that he felt himself wanting to collapse on the ground. Michael looked at him in pure disbelief, eyes wide enough to pop from his head. Normally Trevor would giggle at the sight, but any noise from him would be a gurgle of blood in place of it.

“…Trevor?”

That was enough to knock him to the ground.

“Mr. Phillips! Mr. Cheng wants a word with you!”

Michael whipped his head back, and began dragging the two of them to cover. Was that supposed to be a fucking warning shot?? The one who shot Trevor spoke in Chinese to the other gunman, then spoke in English to the duo.

“Phillips! You and your boyfriend cannot hide from us!”

Michael grabbed his gun and started firing back, clipping the two in the front instantly.

“Trevor… what the fuck did you get into?! What are they on about? I… I’m not…”

Trevor couldn’t speak. He could only murmur at the man beside him.

“Trevor, seriously, you better answer me because I’m pretty fucking lost here-“

He angrily turned his head back to find Trevor on the verge of slipping out of consciousness, his face dropping at what was before him.

“Ah, Trevor! Shit!”

Before Michael could help him out, a van burst through the gate to the left, and more yelling ensued.

“Get out the van! Go find them!”

Michael panicked, pushing his gun into Trevor’s limp hands so he could grab the dead Triad henchman’s sturdier gun. He fired and clipped a few more men, trying his best to keep an eye on Trevor. His breathing was shallow, and he attempted to prop himself up so he could fire at them too.

“Trevor, what the fuck is going on? Who are these guys?”

“It’s the fucking,” He winced, pushing himself onto his knees so he could grab the side of the grave they hid behind. He spit out some blood that leaked from his mouth, staining the snow beneath them.

“The God damn Chinese, sugar tits.”

“Why are they-“

“Ask questions later, I’m fucking bleeding out here.”

Trevor forced himself to fully stand, his legs wobbling slightly. He fired a few more rounds, face contorted in pain. Another bullet flew by him, grazing his side.

“Fuck! Ow!” He growled.

“T, what in the hell are you doing?! Get down!”

“Fuck off you fucking leech! I can-“ He spit out more blood.

“I can handle this myself!”

He groaned, keeping his aim as still as he possibly could, which wasn’t very still at all. Stubborn as ever, Trevor went in guns blazing. He used not only the gun Michael had forced into his hands, but also the one he had brought with him. Several more shots fired at him until he felt a hand yank him back to the ground. He fell with a slight thump, and pain jolted through him again.

“You crazy bastard! We’re getting the fuck out of here, but that can’t exactly be accomplished if you’re dead!”

“Oh please! You already want me dead you fat fucking snake!” He wheezed out.

“Jesus Christ- Trevor. I already told you-“

“Shit, Mikey-”

Before either one could do anything about it, a Triad that had snuck up on them pistol whipped Michael in the back of the head. Trevor scrambled backwards and attempted to get on his feet, but to no avail. In a last minute effort, he lifted Michael’s gun and fired. For someone who was labeled a lousy shot by his partner, he felt that Michael would’ve been proud of his aim at that moment in time. A clean shot, right between the fucker’s eyes. He grinned slightly, adrenaline still coursing through him. He barked out a laugh, forgetting how much of a chore it was to allow any noise to escape him. It caused him to break into a coughing fit, spitting up more blood onto the snow. He looked from the small circle of blood that formed in front of him, back to Michael’s limp body. He shoved him slightly, trying to nudge him back into consciousness.

“Mikey. Michael. Get up. We gotta go like you said-“

He heard another van pull up. Then another. Fuck.

“You gotta be shitting me..”

Trevor, disregarding his wounds weakening him to the point his vision grew spotty, swapped his handgun for the gun Michael grabbed. He tried his best to prop the other man up against a grave, well out of the Triad’s line of sight. He pushed through any pain he felt, still riding his adrenaline high, wiping the rest of them out one by one. He rushed back over to Michael, who was stirring awake.

“Michael, for fucks sake get up already! Jesus I’m still fucking bleeding and I have to save your ass right now? Come on!”

He was finally able to stand, and Trevor slung Michael’s arm around his shoulder, helping him regain his balance. They helped one another walk through the mess of snow, blood, and bodies to get to the rental car, which surprisingly was still in alright shape. Across the train tracks, one more van started to pull up, right before the nightly train passed through town.

“Haha! Thank you train for being useful this time!”

He forgot how much it hurt to laugh, clutching his side and muttering curses under his breath as the two raced over to the car. Michael hopped in the driver’s seat after placing Trevor in the passenger’s side. Trevor’s adrenaline rush began to die down along with the rest of him. Michael raced out of the cemetery, narrowly escaping the left over henchmen. Glancing over at Trevor, he realized how shit of a shape he was in. Despite not living in North Yankton in close to 10 years, he still remembered where all the nearby hospitals were. It wasn’t ideal, considering what they were doing up there and who they were and what not, but it was better than having Trevor die on the spot.

“Hey, don’t you fucking die on me right now buddy. There’s no way you ain’t surviving the shit show we just went through, which only happened thanks to you.”

Trevor asked himself why Michael was still giving him snide remarks about his unruliness. He figured now wasn’t the time to really argue, but still tried nonetheless.

“You… fuckin’ snake.. you think you’re so..”

“I’m so what Trevor? No you know what- Don’t speak right now, but try to stay awake, please?”

“Mmph..”

The ride out of Ludendorff was quiet. The radio was off, and neither one chose to speak. Michael of course was driven mad by the silence.

“…Look. Trevor I- I fucked up. There’s nothing I can do now to fix it, no matter how many times I apologize. But you do- You do know that I cared about you then, and I care about you now…”

Trevor did nothing but grunt in response, eyelids heavy. Michael sighed.

“We’re almost to a hospital. They’ll fix you up good, and- and you’re gonna be fine. You ain’t dying on me yet. I mean- you’ve survived worse? You.. I…”

He huffed out a breath, gripping the steering wheel tight. The rest of the ride was silent, save for Michael making sure Trevor was still alive and conscious. They made it to the hospital, with Michael carrying him fireman style, seeing as Trevor was very lanky compared to him. He called out for someone to help, using his gift of lying to say that Trevor was just shot by a random mugger, so the report back wouldn’t seem too suspicious. He patiently waited for word back from a doctor, eventually seeing someone come to him with a clip board.

“Are you… Franklin?”

Michael had been smart enough to give them both fake names, but he just blurted out the first two names that came to mind. Right now, he went by Franklin, and for all they knew Trevor was Lamar.

“Yes, that’s me.”

“Your friend is in critical condition, but you got him here just in time. Any later and he wouldn’t have made it.”

The last sentence caused Michael’s ears to ring.

“He’s going to be out of surgery soon, the bullet wound was pretty deep.” The doctor narrowed their eyes slightly, getting ready to write the report down.

“You said that he was mugged?”

“Yeah. The guy fired at him and ran off. Didn’t get a good look at his face.”

“Hmm… well alright. I’ll let you know when your friend is ready for visitors.”

The rest of the night was painfully slow. By the time Trevor was out of surgery, he was still hopped up on morphine, allowing him to rest properly for the first time in forever. Michael sheepishly walked in, careful not to be too loud. He made his way over to Trevor’s side, sitting in the seat next to his bed. He hadn’t seen Trevor look so content like that in so long. Not since... those days. He spoke to himself, seeing as Trevor was fast asleep.

“You worry me so much you dumbfuck… why do you pull the shit you pull? I mean.. shit. I… I love you, man. I do. But what if you died without ever hearing that from me again? Is that the reason why you get like this? Shit. Right. I’m such a fucking idiot.”

Besides everything about Ludendorff, it angered Trevor to his core that Michael could never admit he loved Trevor unless he was drunk or alone. In this instance, he technically was. Trevor was peacefully dreaming, while Michael felt restless. He proceeded to fumble around for his cellphone to reach out to Franklin, who had been wondering what happened to them. He knew Franklin would probably be up anyway.

Yo Mike, where u at? Trevor too, Lamar n I gotta do one last job wit him.

F

Currently in North Yankton kid. Trev found out about Brad. Some Chinese gangsters rolled on us, T got shot. Be home soon hopefully.

M

Oh shit. Stay safe out there homie. See u soon ig.

F

Michael let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, looking back up at Trevor. He tried to think about what he would do next. Knowing that visiting hours were limited, he felt a twinge of guilt knowing he’d have to leave Trevor alone for a night after what happened. But it was late, and he couldn’t stay there overnight. He figured he’d have to bunk in some cheap motel for the time being. Just until Trevor and him were ready to leave North Yankton. He spoke to the doctor from before to let them know he would come back the next morning. When he arrived at the nearest shit motel, he still couldn’t find it in him to sleep. He was tired, sure, but his mind wouldn’t allow him to drift off. Even if he did, he would find himself jolting awake, the scene of Trevor getting shot playing over and over in his head. He’d almost been responsible for Trevor’s death once, he couldn’t let it happen for real. What would he do anyway if he did die? He quickly brushed the thought off, not wanting to consider the possibilities.

He returned to the hospital the next morning, half awake from the lack of sleep. Visiting hours were early, and he wanted to get them both out of here as fast as he could. Walking to Trevor’s room, he saw the man sitting upright looking out the window. North Yankton may have been cold as a bitch, but from time to time it had real pretty sunrises. He knocked lightly on the door, and Trevor turned to face him.

“Hey, T…”

He couldn’t read the expression on his face.

“I thought you left.”

“Visiting hours are limited, T. You should know that by now.”

He didn’t say anything in response, facing back towards the window instead. Michael sat down in one of the chairs across from him.

“You.. you worried me. I thought-“

“You thought what, cupcake? That I’d just die on the spot, and you could just leave my dead body there-“

“Trevor! For the last time that wasn’t my fucking plan!”

Their voices steadily increased above the normal level it should’ve been for a hospital setting.

“Then why did you have a fucking gun, huh Mikey?”

“I could ask the same for you!”

“Oh of course, turn the situation onto me again-“

“You brought a gun for what, Trevor?!”

“That’s not the issue at hand here!”

“Yes it is!”

A voice chimed into their argument.

“Excuse me. You,” A nurse who walked in pointed at Trevor.

“You need to rest. And sir, I’m not sure who you are, but if you want to stay as a visitor I suggest you lower your voice and behave.”

The two men looked at each other angrily before sitting back down. The nurse exited, most likely wanting to return later so Michael could discuss discharging him. Silence filled the room briefly.

“T… I meant what I said.” His voice had dropped to a whisper.

Trevor didn’t look him in the eye. His arms were crossed, and he just looked out the window.

“I could’ve lost you.”

The other man still said nothing.

“I could’ve lost you and you would’ve died not knowing I..” He trailed off.

Trevor turned back to look at Michael while speaking.

“Knowing what? You hiding something else from me, porkchop?”

“I…”

“Spit it the fuck out Mikey or I swear to God-“

“I love you.”

His felt his stomach twist uncomfortably, and his hands became clammy. He finally forced the words out, sober.

“I love you.” He repeated, shutting his eyes so he wouldn’t have to look at Trevor while saying it. He chose to look at his feet instead.

“I’m sorry I didn’t say it sooner. And I just.. kept thinking that you could’ve died not hearing that from me ever again.”

He didn’t notice it at first, but tears brimmed his eyes. Trevor’s scowl fell and his face softened.

“What?” Was all he could choke out.

“Don’t.. don’t make me say it again.” He said, face flushing red.

“You..” Trevor didn’t finish his sentence. He shuddered in his seat, ready to cry himself. He buried his face in his hands, muffling something incoherent.

“What?”

He lifted his head up, tears streaking his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry, Michael.”

“Sorry for what?”

“For.. being like this.”

Trevor was a lot of things. You couldn’t just describe him in only one word. Michael tried sifting through the options of what he meant.

“I pushed you so hard back then I.. I thought I was losing you. I didn’t want to. All it did was make you want to leave even more.” Trevor kept sniffling.

“Trev…”

“Why Michael? Why do you do this to me?”

He wanted to ask him “Do what?”, but they both knew the answer. Michael never let his feelings be more than surface level. He was repressed and Trevor hated it. Trevor continued to cry, and the tears that Michael held in spilled.

“Hey.. don’t… don’t apologize, T. Please.”

“I..” He hiccuped.

“I’ve loved you for so long. Why couldn’t you have done the same?”

Michael kept his head down. He didn’t want to see the heartbroken expression on Trevor’s face. It only made him feel worse.

“You left me.”

“I didn’t want to.”

“But you still did. Telling me that doesn’t change anything. You became another person in my life that I loved and then you left. Same as always for me.”

Everything Trevor loved was always out of his reach. Flying, his mother, Michael, Patricia… He could go on. Nothing was ever gonna be permanent for him.

“But I’m here for you now, T. I’m not going anywhere.”

He finally looked up to see Trevor’s sad eyes burning a hole right through him. His silence told him it’d be a long while before he could believe his words.

“Now.. uh. Let’s get the fuck outta this place.”

It didn’t take long for Trevor to be discharged. The doctors had told him he should stay for another day or so, but only got an irritated response from Trevor. Figuring the duo wouldn’t budge on wanting to leave, he was signed off for clearance. They eventually found the plane Trevor flew in on, and made their way out of the state. Neither one knew if this would change anything between them, but Trevor felt more at ease around him. It would still take time and effort for any left over wounds to heal, but for right now, Trevor was content.

[caxsthetic]

Lost to Pride

Miya Atsumu x F!Reader

Sometimes, people let the person they loves to slipped between their fingers without noticing it.

Part 1 > Pt. 2

Gymnasium already felt like your second home by now, no matter where it is. It was energetic and majestic, being here just made you feel alive. But here, you have another job to do rather than just enjoying your school volleyball's team playing on the court.

The roar of Miya Atsumu's fans always made you feel tired. It's not that you were jealous of how one person could be loved by a lot of people, but it was the fact that you need to make them quiet down when Atsumu's serve, or else, it will be their own nightmare.

"Hey, I am sorry," You called out to some of them who had been cheering non-stop. Atsumu was going to serve since he's already walking to take his formation. But those girls just won't quiet down, "Please silence."

They finally turned to look at you, jolted when they could sense the immense aura radiating from your body. It was scary even though you were smiling to them with your eyes closed, looking like an innocent girl, but nothing scream innocent from how deadly you look now,

"Now, don't make a sound when Tsumu does his serve, okay?" You patted their shoulders with the same unreadable smile, "If you still do that, well," Your eyes opened to see them, sending an intense glare, "I wouldn't let you set foot in Inarizaki stands ever again."

They nodded stiffly and only focused on the court, now without emitting a single sound from their lips. You could calm down and enjoy their match now, without being afraid one of the fangirls ruined his moment.

"S-She's terrifying."

"I know right? Who is she?"

"What?! You don't know her?"

"She's Atsumu's girlfriend!"

"Damn, she's really in the same league."

Just like your boyfriend, you were well known outside of your school. You have been best friends with the twins since junior high, and somehow, you become their guardian angel and the ultimate weapon to set them apart if their bickering became too much.

"You know? I think I never want you to be out of my life," It was so sudden, the three of you were just walking home together after practise, "What do you think about me, (Y/n)?"

"Huh?" You were confused with the questions, "Hmm.. Since you asked, then. You are annoying, sarcastic, stubborn-"

"Hey hey hey! That's not what I wanted to hear from you!"

"Lying prick, scoundrel-" Atsumu clamped your mouth with his palm. You were surprised by it and gave him a glare, resulting in him to stick out his tongue at you playfully. So you decided to do the same and lick his palm even though you were grossed out by it.

"Ew, what the fuck!" He groaned and wiped his palm to your uniform, "Why are you so mean to me?! You never do this to Samu!"

"Well, because Samu never pulled something like that on me. Right, Samu?" The other twin nodded and kept eating the onigiri that you made for him, "You regret saying you want me in your life forever, now?" You chuckled and hit Atsumu's arm with a lazy force,

"No," The answer caught you off guard, "I meant it, (Y/n)." It's not the words that made you shocked, but it's how his voice turned serious immediately, "Samu, go ahead. I want to talk to her."

Osamu stopped his eating and looked concerned for a split second. But then he just nodded and walked first. His eyes scanned your face for a while. When he didn't find any uncomfortable expression, he decided to leave you there with his twin brother.

"What did you want to talk to me about, Tsumu?" You tilted your head, acting so calmed outside while actually your heart has been thundering since he said that first sentence.

Atsumu just smiled, knowing exactly what's in your head. He knew you long enough to know when you felt flustered. The tinted pinkish hue on your cheek, how you try to break eye contact every few seconds, he could see right through you with just a single glance.

He leaned in slowly, testing the water with his eyes still scanning your face. You widen your eyes when he's getting closer and closer. Your hands still fall beside you, and the little gap in your lips made him sure that you, the girl that he always adores, might like him too.

So when you didn't push him away or yelled at him, he decided to close the gap between the two of you. He closed his eyes when his lips finally touched yours, and it made him relieved that you kissed him back within seconds.

Atsumu is known as someone who loves to fool around, having different girls every weekend. You knew about this, and you should have been wary by now. But when his lips touched yours, everything felt so right.

You always wanted to be the one he brought to his room, you wanted to be the one who he kissed. But you were always just to be a girl who stuck in his living room, talking with his twin brother, watched TV and turned the volume up. All because so you didn't have to hear what happened on the second floor.

So when he leaned down to kiss you, how could you say no to that. He cupped your face and kissed you passionately. Turning the soft first kiss to be heavenly. He pulled his kiss to grasp some air, smiling at you and kissed your cheek playfully.

"You are mine now." It's a demand, but you were not angry, because you know that's what you always wanted. Maybe, maybe you will be the last girl in his life. And here's hoping for you to be his forever.

For the entire match, you have been praying and thinking about what to cook to celebrate his winning today. It was like a reflex, thinking that they will always win. After all, it's still the second day of Nationals, they could push it and win the match.

But that's when you were wrong.

You couldn't believe your eyes as you saw the twins attack were blocked by the Karasuno freak duo. When the umpire whistled the blow, the only thing that ran into your mind was your boyfriend. A trait that was well known by the others was the fact that Miya Atsumu hated losing.

The others didn't have to call you, you knew that you were the ultimate back up plan to calm him down when Inarizaki lost. If even Kita couldn't handle him, then they need you to be there.

You texted Osamu that you were already in front of the changing room, knowing for sure that your boyfriend wouldn't open up his phone until later. Today's match was intense, both of the teams were hungry for victory. For you, today's match was already great for your team. After all, this will be just a mere memory tomorrow.

When you heard the door open, you immediately looked forward in hope to see your boyfriend. All of his teammates were piled up to go outside, they were all nodding at you with a faint smile on their faces. Even Kita looked upset for a second.

"He's inside," Osamu walked up to you with his calm expression, "Today's match hit a spot on his pride, please be careful." You nodded at this and thanked the grey-haired wing spiker.

What's dangerous from Miya Atsumu was his pride. It was something that sculpted him to be like the person he is today. All of the harsh words and snarked comments, it was because he really believes in his ability, and he felt superior by it.

You opened the door slowly, scanned the room to see your boyfriend standing in front of the mirror. His back was on you, but he could see your reflection through the mirror. He usually would turn his back immediately, putting his forehead on your shoulders as you stroked his hair.

But then his twin's words rang inside your head as he didn't even turn to look at you. He looked so tense, hands making a fist as his gaze hardened to his own reflection. You were worried for your boyfriend, so you took a little step towards him.

"Tsu-"

"What are you doing here?" He didn't raise his voice, but you could recognize the annoyance that was dripping on his voice. Something that he usually blurted to anyone else, but never at you, "Are you deaf?"

"W-What?" Miya Atsumu never gave you his vicious words before, so you were taken aback by it, "I am here for you of course, what else, Tsumu?"

Hearing that, he turned his head towards you. You immediately flinched and took a step backward when you saw the blazing look on his eyes. He walked up to you, and for the first time since you knew him, you were afraid.

"Oh? Here for me?" It's like he was surprised to hear that, "Why should you? I am fine, and it's not like your appearance could change the fact that I just lost." You didn't meant to make him feel bad, not at all,

"Tsumu, that's not my intent-"

"Tsumu this, Tsumu that! Why couldn't you just give me space for just a second?!" He was beyond frustrated, he knew what he did was wrong, pouring all of his frustration towards you, but he just couldn't stop, "You always act so clingy towards me, never once gave me a space!"

You felt guilty, you never meant to be like that. He never complained before, on the contrary, he usually complained if you didn't give him enough attention. You could only bite your lips. It will pass, he's just angry right now.

"Can't you understand what I've been telling you?" He leaned his face towards you, "Why the fuck that you still standing here?"

"Because I care for you, okay?!" You didn't want to lose from this battle. You wanted to show him that you were not there for yourself, you were there because you knew he would be enraged at everyone if you didn't calm him down.

"Well, news flash, (Y/n)." He gripped your wrist a little bit too tight, "I don't need you caring for me!"

"T-Tsumu, you didn't mean that," Your voice was like a whisper, you didn't even care how your wrist started to reddened, "You are just upset because of the event before," His eyes still not waver, he still looked at you like you were a nuisance, "You are great out there you know, you didn't even do any mistake, Tsu-"

"Oh, I think I made a mistake." He played flawlessly today, with the same passion that he always did, "You wanted to know what the mistake is?" Somehow, you knew you didn't want to hear it. It's like you could predict what the next word from his lips would be.

He lifted your hand in front of your face. Showing you how his grip on your wrist tightened, making you yelped, "This, us," You widened your eyes when he suddenly let go of your hand, slamming it to fall on your side, "Was a fucking mistake."

It was crazy how those words were enough to make your heart shattered. No, you didn't want to believe everything that he said. You knew he was just upset, "Tsumu, we could talk about this."

"Oh, come on! The second we shared our first kiss, the due date was already set on us," You knew him, he's just upset, "I just want you to be my girlfriend so all of those pigs would go away." You knew him, he's just upset, "Our relationship had a deadline, and now we're at it; what are you gonna do about it?"

You knew him, he's just upset.

But that doesn't mean he deserves to play with your heart like this.

"YOU ASKED ME WHAT I GONNA DO?!" You pushed him with all of your might. He was caught off guard, making him fall to the bench, "SO YOU TELL ME ALL OF THOSE CONFESSION WERE JUST A LIE?! YOU TELL ME ALL OF THOSE KISSES WAS NOTHING?!"

The door slammed, but both of you didn't even care to turned around,

"Yes! You are just someone that I used to dispel the pest away from me!" Tears were already brimming in your eyes, either it's because you were upset, or because he just stomped at your heart, you didn't even know anymore, "You were so naive that you think I would want to spend my whole life loving you!"

You bit your lips, you gave your love towards him for more than a year. But look where your love take you, cheek stained with tears in front of the man who wanted to keep you in his life forever, “You know what I am going to do?! I-”

Nothing prepared you to see someone punch the boy in front of you. You backed away immediately, cowering in front of the locker, sliding yourself to the ground as you put your arms around yourself. Your sight was blurry due to the immense tears that never stop. You didn't know what happened anymore, you just felt so lost all of a sudden.

Miya Atsumu was your first love, you gave everything to him. He owned your first kiss, he owned your first relationship, he even owned your first time. You didn't want to believe everything he said today, it was not him, he's not your Atsumu.

Suddenly, a hand helped you to stand up. You didn't have to open up your eyes to know who owned it. It belongs to none other than your boyfriend's twins. He rubbed your back calmly, glaring at his twin that was now having a nosebleed.

"Hey, Atsumu." You never called him that since forever, it gave the setter a foreign feeling somehow, "I made a mistake too," You turned your head towards him when you were already standing on the doorway, "That night, around fifteen months ago," He widened his eyes, knowing what are you going to say, "I wish I never kissed you back."

Miya Atsumu only looked at your drifting figure, he didn't even apologize for all of his harsh words. He was too prideful to admit that he was just ashamed to face you due to him losing from the school that wasn't even considered as a top school.

He was too prideful to even ask for your forgiveness and told you that it was just the demon inside of him who snapped at you. He wiped the blood away from his nose, banging his forehead on the locker as the realisation dawned on him.

He told you that all of these feelings for you were just a lie. That it's just one of his disastrous schemes. What a lie, an idiotic lie. He laughed bitterly all of a sudden, grabbing his bag that was dropped on the floor. If he met you, maybe he would apologize, maybe.

And again, he was too prideful for himself. You would be by his side again, after all, you were really in love with him. He didn't have to apologize, he was sure you still love him anyway.

No matter how many times he lied to you or canceled your date all of a sudden, you were always so understanding. Therefore, he believed that everything will be back like it used to be.

Blinded by his own pride, he just lost one person that ever truly loved him.

But he didn't even know it.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*     ༶•┈┈⛧┈♛ ♛┈⛧┈┈•༶    *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Tagged Lovelies:

@allywritesimagines @benewol @letmeshouyou @nitricflame @iwaixiumi @vventure @heccingdead @muffins-puffins @miyulovestowrite @nanashinanashi @muffngw @vlovers-world @proplayer-kenma @kashika @cuddlyasahi @blacckdiamondposts @muffngw

[obsidianfr3sk]

five valentine’s day that went wrong and one that (almost) didn’t

@queercreators event 02: romance — [ five valentine’s day that went wrong and one the (almost) didn’t ]      [ “Five Things” Fic ] “

dedicated to my dear Reneweys [ @nodrianbcyes @honey-hippie-harper​ @healing-winston-pratt @alecjamesartino @bluenoctuary-art @everyone-has-a-nightmare ] ♡

Summary: They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.Boy, he would like to see someone try.

AO3

Well, hello there!!! It’s been a while since the last time I posted something x’d I know I always say the same thing but it’s true skjdfhkjdfs I started this fic during the first week of febreary when I had this shot of adrenaline and started to do a lot of creative stuff, and originally I wanted to post this during Valentine’s Day, but... the shot of adrenaline passed x’d and let me to deal with this alone.

As you can see for the description, this a “Five Thing” fic. At first I wanted to post each chapter seperately, but idk, it seem a little bit... weird x’d so, here in Tumblr, the six chapters are all in one post. If you don’t like the format, but want to read the fic, you can find it on AO3! Don’t forget to leave kudos and a comment if you liked it:’)

Now... I’m not used to write happy sttuf in general x’d AND I’M LESS USED TO WRITE HAPPY STUFF ABOUT HUGH AND SIMON BECAUSE SKJDFHKJDSF the angst, dudes:))) but I think I did. Like... I actually wrote a fluffy fic:’) I’m so proud of myself dkjfhkfdshjk

Tag list: @the-lady-with-the-pen @chiyuki-hiro @all-weather-is-bad @styeenza

First try

Year 2

It was the second Valentine's Day after the beginning of the Age of Anarchy, and the capacity that the human being had to adapt themselves to the most terrible of conditions never ceased to amaze him. The economy had collapsed, the government had fallen, his school was practically one of the last ones still in open, and there was a “fucking junkie” ruling the city...

But the world celebrated Valentine's Day anyway.

Or at least in his class did.

The teacher had brought a bunch of cardboard boxes, that looked like she had fought with some tramps to get them (which she probably did, they were too many boxes for one person to generate) (unless she was a crazy person who collected boxes). She gave one to each one of her students, took out the last bottles of paint, pieces of colored cardboard, and rusty scissors, and then told them that today they were going to learn how to make a mailbox.

At first, Hugh had no idea what turning a box into a mailbox had to do with the curriculum the school was supposed to follow. It's not like people sent a lot of letters anyway. But when the girls got excited, he remembered that February 14 was something like an important date. And then, he remembered an activity that they did during his first year, when everyone decorated a box for their classmates to put letters and sweets in it.

First year… And now he was in his third year.

Time flies by.

After telling them which parts to cut into (Hugh had to share his scissors with other three classmates because there weren't enough for everyone), she invited them to pick the decorations they wanted to put on their mailboxes. The girls pounced on the pink, red, and even white paint, while most of the boys laughed, saying it was a stupid activity and they didn't want to do it. Hugh felt the urge to agree, but he didn't

He had already tried to make them like him. It hadn't worked for him.

So he grabbed a bottle of navy blue paint, some cartoon bear stickers, some notebook paper, and a bitten pencil. That would be enough to make his mailbox and his cards.

After a while, he started to have a good time. Crafts had never been his strong suit, but he was proud of how it ended up looking. One couldn’t tell his mailbox used to be a cereal box because the paint he used was so dark, that it only needed two coats of it and it dried much faster than Abernathy’s, who had practically finished the pink paint trying to hide the face of that missing child in the milk carton box the teacher gave to her. Hugh realized that she was holding her tears back, and as the good classmate that he was, he told her not to worry, that the missing child could be decoration if she painted him a mustache or something, and it would look very funny. Abernathy, far from finding it funny, acted super offended, assuring she had never met a child as rude and insensitive as Hugh Everhart, and she ran out of the classroom, hiding her face in her hands and screaming like a baby.

Unfortunately, the rest of his class agreed with her, and when it came time to deliver the cards, Hugh did not receive a single one. Although he doubted it had anything to do with that missing boy thing.

They wouldn't have given him anything anyway.

He wasn't sure if they knew he was a prodigy. Maybe they had noticed that it wasn't normal that Hugh had practically broken a chair in two when he placed his backpack on it to get something out, or that he had left the PE teacher unconscious when he accidentally threw a ball at his face while they were playing soccer. The teachers, if they noticed, didn't say anything. After all, that school was supposed to be only for normal kids.

Not prodigies. 

But children could be very insightful. Most likely, they did notice and therefore did not want to be associate with him.

Or maybe— 

Maybe they just didn't want to hang out with Hugh, because of… that.

Because he was Hugh.

He decided to wait for everyone else to leave before starting to cry (or before breaking another chair, whichever came first). Or at least that was what he was about to do when he heard that someone had come up with the same idea as him and started crying first. 

Simon Westwood had never been too talkative. Even before his older sister and mother died, he liked to sit at the last table, not speaking to anyone, and some older kids were constantly picking on him, without any teacher trying to do anything to stop them.

Not that Hugh was paying much attention to him or something.

The teacher practically ran to see what was going on with Simon Westwood, asking him what happened and why hadn’t he finished decorating his mailbox. Simon Westwood tried to explain it to her, but he was mumbling his words so neither the teacher nor Hugh could understand what he was saying. 

Hugh didn’t get mad with him though. His mom had died. His sister died too, a couple of weeks later. He wouldn’t be in the mood for doing cheesy crafts if the same had happened to him. But the teacher wasn’t as benevolent as him, and started to say things like she was trying really hard to bring joy to her students, and that she was sure that if he tried a little bit harder, he would be able to enjoy Valentine’s Day, like the rest of them. 

“Let’s see what nice things your classmates have said about you,” she exclaimed. But that only made Simon Westwood start crying again.

No one had given him a card. 

Like… no one.

And Hugh was listening to all of this conversation, just sitting there, trying to stay as stiff as he could so they wouldn’t notice he was there (as if he weren’t literally right in front of them). Seeing Simon cried like that made him think that maybe he was just acting though when the other kids laugh at him because of his looks, his ratty old clothes (older and rattier than theirs), or just—

His mind exploded. 

He suddenly understood why the other kids didn't like Simon Westwood. It was before he was him.

Just like how they didn’t like Hugh Everhart because he was Hugh Everhart. 

When the teacher went out of the classroom with Simon, saying something about calling his dad (although he knew they wouldn’t be able to do that, since no one had a functioning phone those days), he took one of the cards he did for his classmates, cards that he never gave to them, and put one inside Simon Westwood’s mailbox/cereal box. He had left his backpack and his things there. When he came back to take them home, he would see the card too.

A voice in his head told him to get out of there before he came back, but another one told him to stay. Maybe Simon Westwood and he could be friends. Maybe he would understand what it felt like to be hated just for the way you were born. Maybe he was a prodigy too. 

Or maybe he wasn’t.

He couldn’t take that chance. 

So Hugh went home, but promised Simon Westwood (and himself) he would keep an eye on him. 

After all, friends were there to have each other’s back. 

Because they were friends, even if Simon didn't know it yet.

Second try

Year 9

They were friends. 

He had never seen Hugh before meeting him on that alley where Simon got his powers. Like— he had seen him because he was in the same class as him, but he hadn't really seen him. During his childhood years, Simon was more focused on other things. Like being a little depressed and anxious ball with skinny legs and skinny arms, for example.

It wasn’t like he wasn’t depressed or anxious now. Nor it was he had gotten super muscular all of the sudden, like Hugh (he had always been bigger than the other kids, but he practically turned twelve and already looked like a teenager, except for the voice and the face). 

But at that moment, he wasn’t depressed or anxious. He felt weirdly at peace. 

He and Hugh were walking down the street, thinking about which store were they going to rob that day to get dinner for them and their families, when Simon noticed a couple holding hands in front of an abandoned café. She had dark hair and he had blue eyes, which looked at his girlfriend as if she was the Virgin Mary or something. Then, she kissed him and gave him a small blue flower and a heart-shaped card. The guy looked so moved by the gesture that he kissed her on the lips again, with so much more passion than before. 

Simon looked away before they realized he was looking at them, not only because he didn’t want to come off as creepy, but also because he knew how awkward he would feel if they started to make out or something. 

“Love is in the air,” Hugh sang.

Simon chuckled. “You noticed them too?”

“I noticed them when she gave him the flower,” he told him. “I had never seen a girl giving flowers to a guy before.”

“Times have changed, I guess. That’s why they don’t feel uncomfortable giving such public displays of affection. Kids in our day weren’t like that.”

“I know, right?” said Hugh continuing with the joke. “They are so perverted. There are children present, for God’s sake.”

Simon chuckled again and Hugh stopped to tie his shoe. While he was there, Simon noticed he was throwing glances at them. 

“You know, giving them the death stare isn’t gonna prevent them from being in love,” Simon told him.

“I can try,” Hugh joked. Then, he shook his head. “It’s not that. I just—”

He waited for him a couple of seconds before asking, “Just what?”

He finally answered, “Someday we’ll have something like that.”

Simon frowned. “Huh?”

“You know,” Hugh mumbled. “We’ll have girlfriends and— and all of that.”

“Oh!” Simon exclaimed. “Yeah, someday, yeah.”

But before Simon could keep talking about it (or just develop some opinion on the topic) Hugh shrugged and urged him to keep walking. “I guess. I didn’t even remember today was Valentine’s Day though. They were my reminder—” he turned around and waved at them “—Thank you, exhibitionists, you reminded me what day is it!”

Now, Hugh probably didn’t mean for them to hear him say that. Simon knew him well enough to know Hugh thought he wasn’t being loud, but the thing was… Hugh was always loud. He could be “whispering” and the whole neighborhood would hear him ask Simon if he knew how bars with strippers worked because he did know, and wanted to brag about it. Then, Simon would feel embarrassed, because, in fact, he didn’t know how bars with strippers work.

Simon immediately turned around and realized the girl was looking at them with an expression he couldn’t read. He turned invisible and pushed Hugh inside of an alley, hoping those trashcans hid them well enough in case the guy turned out to be a freaking animal and wanted to kick their flat asses for calling them exhibitionists. 

Simon felt the anxiety kicking in, when Hugh started laughing so loud, that said anxiety turn into the need of punching him really hard on the arm.

So he did it. Multiple times.

“Dude, dude, shut the fuck up, dude,” Simon said keeping his voice low (because he could keep his voice down, unlike others), “that guy’s gonna kick our asses, for real. Dudeeee—”

But his voice kinda cracked when he said that “Dudeee—” and that made Hugh laugh even more, so Simon kept punching him, using a vocabulary that would make the most dangerous of gangster blush. And he probably would have kept hitting him, if the anxiety of being discovered hadn't been overshadowed by how weird it made him feel to see his best friend laugh.

When Hugh laughed, his cheeks would turn red and his eyes would water. They could be in the most embarrassing situation ever, one where no one was laughing, and if he found it funny, he was going to do it, because he wasn't going to be able to help it. And it wasn't like Simon would stop him, either. Not at all. He liked it when he laughed. 

Even though he ended up making him laugh too. Like at that moment.

Most of the garbage ended up in the drains, the sidewalk, or anywhere else except where it belonged, the trash can. Generally, Hugh always refused when someone hinted at sitting on the floor, precisely for that reason. However, on that occasion, the two were sitting in that stinking alley, throwing pebbles at each other, playing with some bottle caps they found on the ground, and arguing about who would win a bare-handed fight, Wonder Man or Phantom Feline.

They decided it was time to go home when a cat-sized rat appeared out of nowhere, and the two of them came out screaming like idiots, even faster than they would have run if that guy with the girlfriend would have chased them. They ran until they reached Simon's house, all sweaty and tired, their hands on their bent knees and breathing heavily.

Then Hugh laughed again. And his cheeks were flushed again, and his eyes were watery again, and he made Simon laugh again until Mr. Westwood came home from work and told him to go inside, that it was too late to be outside.

Once he was locked in his room, with his younger sister playing in the living room and his father in the kitchen, the image of that guy kissing his girlfriend did not make him feel anything. So, he tried to imagine kissing a lot of girls that he considered a thousand times more attractive, but just when it seemed that the idea was beginning to be something desirable, Hugh came back, with his laugh, his screams, and his eyes, like one of those freaking trains that he dreamed of having the opportunity to stop one day and that never missed a single chance to tell Simon all about it. 

The truth was that Simon did believe that Hugh might be able to stop a train with his bare hands, but he doubted he would be able to stop the train of thought that Simon hopped on whenever he thought of him. And he was so ashamed to know that not even the strongest prodigy on the planet was capable of doing that, that he decided to take those memories from the collar of the old blue hoodie that each one of them wore and bury them alive in the backyard of his memory.

Forever and ever.

Thrid try

Year 12

Two months ago, after their first date, Simon told Hugh he would never plan another important date, forever and ever. But now, Simon had let him plan their first Valentine's Day together without putting any objections, proving that he trusted him. And he was happy for him; Simon had always had problems when it came to trusting other people. It was nice to see the other grow to become a better person. 

And it was even nicer when you were no longer only friends, but a couple. 

So yeah, he wanted to make Valentine's Day special. It was kind of a big deal. 

Georgia and Tamaya brainstormed with him places he could take Simon to. They all agreed that it had to be a place safe enough and that it wouldn't put them in a situation where they had to reveal their powers, and by consequence, their secret identities. But then, everything started going downhill, especially because Georgia had some very odd ideas (like something about flowers, a choreographed dance, and poetry) and Tamaya was as romantic as a rock (“Just don't end up nearly killing yourself in front of him, that should be enough.”)

It was February 13th, and Hugh was on his cot, a bit angry at Georgia and Tamaya, not only because they couldn't help him on such an important mission as they promised, but also because they blamed him for their failure, telling him that he "had no imagination" and that he "thought with his dick", just because he thought all their ideas were horrible. 

Maybe he should have phrased that better... 

Simon and Evander slept on the bunk bed Simon used to share with his younger sister. Simon was taking a shower, so he was all alone with Evander and Kasumi, who sometimes went there to visit her best friend, even if Tamaya told her not to do it because it smelled horrible in there and she would bring the odor to the girl’s bedroom (Hugh thought the room didn't smell bad at all, and if it did, it was because Evander acted like he was living in the street yesterday and had no sense of personal hygiene). But Kasumi didn’t seem to mind, and she spent most of her afternoons cuddling with Evander on the top bunk, while she read an old book and Evander read one of Simon’s comics (because Hugh would join the Anarchists before letting Evander touch his comics).

They started whispering at each other about who knows what, and even though he kind of wanted to know what they were talking about, he was just too tired, so he decided to put a pillow on his face and try to fall asleep. But then, he heard, quite clearly, that they said his name. 

And he couldn’t let slip that. 

He pulled the pillow off his face, and said, “What are you saying about me?”

They both peered over the edge of the bunk. “We were talking about how you're not good at romance,” Evander replied.

The audacity of that b— boy.

“You are eleven years old," he told him. “What are you going to know about romance?”

“No more than you,” Kasumi acknowledged, very solemnly.

Hugh made his “See?” face and he looked away.

Then, Evander asked, “Why don’t you take him to Cosmopolis Park?”

Oh, stars. He couldn’t be serious.

Cosmopolis Park.

A freaking theme park. 

Evander was eleven, all right. His idea of a date was probably something out of a princess movie he and Kasumi watched from time to time (sometimes Tamaya joined them too and she always acted like she was just watching it to make fun of it, even though everyone in the house knew she had a weird soft spot for cheesy princess movies). But Hugh was technically an adult now. He should know better, and knowing better was not taking your boyfriend to a theme park for Valentine’s Day. That wasn’t very romantic.

“What a stupid idea.”

Kasumi got red all of the sudden. For the look at Evander’s face, Hugh knew he had fucked up even before she said, “It was my idea…”

“Oh— no, Zoomie, I… what I meant was that—”

“Don’t fix it, bro,” Evander interrupted him. “You’re gonna make me want to punch you more.”

He wasn’t afraid of Evander punching him because he couldn’t compare a kid’s strength to his, but he obeyed him and mumbled a small, “Sorry.”

The “sorry” was for Kasumi though, not for Evander. If Kasumi hadn’t been there, he probably would have told Evander something like “Oh, yeah? You’re gonna punch me, little punk? Come on, punch me, don’t be a pussy” (and then Georgia would have stormed into the room, telling him not to use the word “pussy”, and they would have pointed at each other saying “He started it!”)

After giving him a goodnight kiss, Kasumi got off Evander’s bed, with the book under her arm. Before leaving the room, she knelt beside Hugh to kiss him goodnight, as to show his comment didn’t cause her to feel any kind of resentment towards him.

Because of course it didn’t. Kasumi was like that.

“I was just saying— Valentine’s Day is also a day to be with friends,” she whispered. “And you and Simon are not only boyfriends but also... you know, friends. I bet that wherever you take him, it'd be magical for both of you. Because you find magic in each other's company, even before you knew you were in love. So... why not?”

She turned off the lights on her way out.

He never thought Kasumi’s tendency to romanticize everything was odd or weird. It was something that he expected from a teenage girl, especially one who has such a vivid imagination. But he also never expected that imagination would help him in some way. And he never expected for her to say the exact words he wanted to hear, even before he knew he wanted to hear them.

She was so wise.

Cosmopolis Park didn’t sound like a bad idea anymore when Simon entered just after Kasumi, wearing his pajamas, and asked him with a teasing voice, “So… where are you gonna take me tomorrow?”

Hugh didn’t know if Evander was already asleep, so he just smiled at him and told him it was a surprise. Simon rolled his eyes and gave him a soft kiss on the nose before getting into his own bed. 

It was his way of telling him he trusted him. And relationships were supposed to be built upon trust. He didn't need anyone to tell him that.

As far as he knew, Simon hadn't been to Cosmopolis Park in years, probably before the Age of Anarchy began. It was no secret that the park was currently full of gangs and drug addicts but it was still a relatively peaceful place. At least peaceful enough that the park was full of families, groups of friends, and tons of couples.

Although there weren’t any couples...

Well, there weren’t any couples like them.

He wondered if Simon noticed that small detail too, but when he turned to ask him that, he knew it would be better if he just kept his comments to himself. Because he wasn't an expert reading other people's emotions, but Simon...

Simon looked so happy at the moment.

The two walked side by side, their shoulders brushing against each other's, but their hands tucked deep into their pockets. Hugh was trying to keep his eyes fixed forward to avoid bumping into anyone, but the small chuckles Simon let out every time he saw something that surprised him, made said task impossible. Suddenly, he no longer wanted to avoid the embarrassment that would cause him to bother someone by bumping into them; he wanted to look at him.

He wanted to look at him trying to hide his laughter by covering his mouth with his hand, as if he wanted to suppress some kind of dark feeling, without realizing that his joy was so full of light that it was practically impossible. He wanted to continue to see how his dark eyes, with very long lashes and deep bags under the eyes, perfectly captured the lights of the Ferris wheel and the food trucks. He wanted to see the tiny smile he had the entire time they were at the park because even if Simon didn't smile like that very often, when he did, Hugh felt as if he was witnessing the most wonderful of miracles.

Hugh took his hands out of his pocket, and when he turned his attention back to Simon, he was looking at him too. They stopped in their tracks, not caring that people passed around them, sometimes unintentionally pushing them a bit or stepping on their shoelaces. 

Hugh took a step forward and Simon did too. 

Then Simon pulled a hand out of his grey jacket's pocket, making him wonder if he was dreaming or if it was really going to happen.

Hugh held his breath and felt the blood rush to his face, along with the overwhelming feeling that everyone around him was staring at them, with the newly acquired gift of recognizing those two faces that always hid behind pair of colorful masks and now were gazing at each other with true devotion. He desperately wanted to know what was going through their heads, he wanted to know if they still considered them worthy of their admiration and respect, and he wanted to know if he had been right when he assured Simon that, someday, the two of them would hold each other in public without thinking it twice.

But then, just as Simon's fingers brushed his cheek, his attention was completely diverted to someone behind Hugh.

“Are you talking to me?” he asked awkwardly.

Hugh turned to see who his boyfriend was talking to. He was a slightly older man, juggling three balls and standing on the table of his own stand. He was smiling at Simon and he had a mustache that quite frankly made him look like a ridiculous comic villain.

“Yes, you!” and he threw a ball at Simon.

Simon covered his face with his hands, but Hugh caught the ball before it hit him.

Who did this guys think he was?

The guy, far from mocking Simon's reaction, seemed intrigued. “Do you want to win a prize, big guy?” he asked Hugh.

Hugh was ready to say no to him in the kindest way he could, when the guy pulled out a laundry basket, like the one Georgia put on his head every Sunday, saying "Laundry time!" in a voice so high that made birds explode. 

“You just have to throw that ball you have in your hand—” he raised the basket “—here. And you can win a prize.”

He finally gave him a chance to reply. “No, thank you, we’re fine.”

He shoved his hands into his pockets again and told Simon to keep going. But the guy did not give up.

“I see,” he crooned from afar. “Your dad didn't play ball with you and that's why you don't think you're capable of throwing it correctly. It’s fine.”

Simon put his hand to his mouth as if thinking "Oh, stars, he did not."

And Hugh looked at him as if thinking "Oh, but he did."

If that guy knew who he was talking to, he would probably think it twice before making comments to strangers mocking their lack of a father figure.

So he turned abruptly and threw the ball into the basket.

If Hugh had been a little calmer, he probably would have been able to remember that, before leaving the house, Tamaya had told him that theme parks were full of games that had the sole purpose of scamming people and that one of them was that game in particular. The balls bounced so much that even if they made contact with the bottom of the basket they would jump back to whoever threw it, making them technically lose.

He would also have listened to himself, to Hugh, who told him that it would be best to turn around and get on with their lives, and not to Captain Chromium, who was determined to win that freaking game because he won every single game the world put in his way. 

After three balls, the guy turned to Simon, extended his hand at him, and told him, “It's fifteen dollars.”

That was enough to make him lose his mind. Hugh told him that it was not worth arguing with him, but Captain Chromium did not tolerate that people tried to take advantage of him, and he spent about ten minutes screaming with the mustachioed man, until Simon panicked (or lost his mind), grabbed one of the balls and threw it right in the man’s eye.

Then, he did take Hugh by the hand.

But just to be sure they both got out of there before someone tried to stop them.

They ended the evening at a hamburger stand several blocks away from Cosmopolis Park (because obviously, they weren't going to stay there after the show they had put on). They did not have enough money to buy two sodas, but they bought a strawberry juice carton to share and sat on the sidewalk to eat their hamburgers of doubtful provenance, ranting against the man, against the park, and, especially, against those damn balls.

“I can't believe there are people like him breathing the same oxygen I breathe,” Simon commented, before taking a bite out of his burger ravenously. “He had no right to make that joke.”

But Hugh was so distracted by how attractive Simon looked when he bit his hamburger like that all he could say was:

“If my dad knew I couldn't win that stupid game, he would abandon me again.”

Simon frowned a little bit, repeating the sentence in his head until he finally understood the joke, and laughed so hard he began to choke with his food. Hugh started to panic and told Simon he would give him five back blows like he read he should do when someone started to choke. That was enough for Simon to spit his food on a napkin. Both were so grossed out by it, that they started laughing again. Simon hid his face on Hugh's shoulder, practically using his fit of laughter as an excuse to snuggle against him, and Hugh used his own angriness as an excuse to stay right there, telling the entire world to go to hell, and willing to keep doing it forever, just as long as the conversation didn't end and they had to go home. 

Georgia and Tamaya would kill them. It was already late at night. 

Fourth try

Year 17

It was already late night when they arrived at the motel.

Simon had stayed invisible the entire time they were at the reception like he always did when they had one of those more… private nights out. Hugh was the one who was in charge of booking the room because Simon got too anxious anyway at the mere idea of ​​having to interact with one of the receptionists.

It was one thing for his entire family (or the Council, as they had been calling themselves lately, as a joke) to know that tonight he was going to have sex. Strangers knowing it was a completely different thing.

He still wasn't quite sure which one was more embarrassing, but yeah. It was different.

He only became visible again when Hugh closed the door behind him.

Simon looked at the huge sports bag that Hugh carried with him. “What you got there?”

“Nothing important,” he assured with a shrug. He was smiling like he was a kid getting a bunch of presents at Christmas, and Simon was extremely happy too, so, without asking any more questions, he kissed him on the lips and went to the bathroom to give both of them time to get ready.

Not that they hadn't done that before. They didn't like having such intimate moments in the house. And even if they had wanted to, it was practically impossible to have even a minute of privacy there. The last time he had slept in a room by himself had probably been… never. And the number of occasions someone had opened the bathroom door while he was there were more than he could count. The door lock had been broken for a few weeks but nobody knew how to solve the problem because they had no idea how doors worked. Georgia had tried to implement a serious policy of knocking before entering any room with the door closed, but the only one who paid attention to her was Adrian because the rest of them were simply too used to walk around the house as if they were in their own houses. (That they were their house, but it was more Simon's house than theirs.)

In fact, it was the first time in forever that he was in a bathroom and he didn't have to put his hand on the door, to stop whoever tried to open the door before they ended up seeing him in the most vulnerable of positions, so Simon took off his T-shirt, his jeans, and sat on the toilet, wearing his underwear and his jacket, trying to enjoy his first moment of privacy in a long time.

At least until his legs started to feel cold and Hugh told him that he could go out now.

When he came out of the room, Hugh, who was lying on the bed, widened his eyes. Simon was already ready to hear a flattering comment, but instead, he frowned and asked, “Are you going to leave your socks on?”

Simon looked at his feet automatically. He had indeed left his socks on.

He didn't see anything wrong with it.

“The carpet is filthy,” he replied. “I don't want to get fungus or something like that.”

Hugh found no fault with his logic. “Okay, but take them off when you get on the bed,” he asked.

Then Simon realized that Hugh, not only never stopped doing that ridiculous pose that pretended to be sexy throughout the entire conversation, but he also had thrown out the (probably dirty) bedsheets from the motel bed and put instead one of the blankets they took out of the closet to cover themselves during winter.

So that's what he carried in his sports backpack.

Hugh seemed to realize that Simon was looking at the blanket and not at him, because he immediately said, “Oh, I hate motel bedsheets.”

Simon couldn't help but laugh. “You hate them?”

Hugh finally stopped doing that ridiculous pose and sat down. “You just never know who sleep in them before us, Simon,” he replied, “and you never know when was the last time they washed them. Maybe they— ” he pointed to the pile of blankets thrown away “—are covered on the… bodily fluids of twenty other people, and you want me to lie on them? Is that how you want us to make love? Like animals?”

Simon kept laughing, but Hugh wasn’t laughing. “Simon, stop it!” he exclaimed. “A new class of bacteria could be there, ‘cause— oh, I am convinced that those things have a new kind of bacteria no one has discovered yet, and— ”

And he went silent when Simon put his hands on his shoulders, still with a smile on his lips.

“What?”

“Hugh, have I ever told you I think you're really sexy when you out crazy me?” Simon asked, running his fingers through his hair.

Hugh stood still, looking directly into his eyes. “No, I think you haven’t.”

Simon shrugged. “Well— I think you're really, really, sexy when you out crazy me.”

“Well, I think… I think—“

Hugh could no longer continue his sentence. Even though Simon wasn't doing anything to stop him from speaking.

He was literally just standing in front of him, one knee leaning on the mattress and one hand on Hugh's head.

“You think?” he asked him. “That’s new.”

“Simon, wait, I'm trying to seduce you,” Hugh said.

Simon took a step back, pointing to the bathroom door. “I think I’d wait over there.”

“No, wait—” he gently grabbed his wrist before he could move further away “—I’m starting to… Let me think of something.”

Simon chuckled. He put his knee on the mattress again and Hugh grabbed him around his waist, pulling him close to him and resting his head on his chest, while Simon rested his chin on his head. He had just taken a bath when they came out of the house, so Hugh’s hair smelled of him and lemon zest because they have been using dish soap as shampoo the last week.

That was the kind of privacy that they sometimes lacked at home. He was no longer talking about sex. Simon craved to have him like this, so close to him. Both in their underwear, both in a practically unknown place, and both completely vulnerable, but together. Feeling at home, even if technically they weren't.

Because Hugh was his home.

He was sure he saw him that way too.

Simon was so focused on trying to capture that moment in his memory so that he could repeat it over and over again for the rest of his life, that he was totally thrown when Hugh blurted out:

“I think you have a nice dick, dude.”

Simon broke the hug ... “What?”

Hugh’s cheeks turned even redder. “Tell me I didn't say that.”

He put a hand up to try to hide his laughter. “No, I think you did.”

He still couldn’t believe that was Hugh’s best try to seduce him. And apparently, Hugh couldn't believe it either.

“Then— forget about it,” he stammered. “Let's all of us forget about it.”

Simon realized that he tried to grab him by the waist again, but he moved away just in time, pretending to be extremely offended. “So I don't have a nice dick.”

“Let's just stop saying the word dick, please.”

“You started it.”

“I PANICKED, ALL RIGHT?”

“PANICKING IS MY JOB!”

“I’M TAKING YOUR JOB THEN. AND I’M GONNA STEAL YOUR BOYFRIEND TOO IF YOU KEEP LAUGHING!”

Simon didn't try to pretend that he wasn't laughing, because he was more than aware that it was already too obvious at this point. 

So he decided it was better to play along.

“No, don't take my boyfriend!” he exclaimed dramatically, putting his hands on his shoulders. “Take me instead.”

Hugh took him by the waist and pulled him close. Simon didn't try to walk away this time. “Deal.”

But when Simon was about to start kissing him, he diverted his attention from Hugh for a split second, making him realize the curtains were wide open. “Oh, shoot, wait— the curtains.”

Luckily he hadn’t taken off his socks yet.

With quick steps, he headed to the window. He put a hand on each curtain and was about to close it completely when the lights of a car approaching from the end of the street caught his attention. It was a yellow sports car that looked more like a ripe banana than a vehicle.

Shit.

It stopped a few feet past the motel they were at. Out of it came a short man, with scars on his face and thin hair, and a tall blonde woman in a yellow dress, very inappropriate for the occasion. Not because it was provocative thought. It’s just that no one would wear such an expensive-looking dress in such a dangerous neighborhood unless they wanted to be robbed.

Or that they had enough status not to be.

Simon turned to see Hugh. “Hey—” Hugh looked up slightly. “—Come here.”

Hugh obeyed, a little bit confused, after putting his socks on (obviously). Simon had closed the curtains just enough for them not to be noticed but also not so much that they couldn’t see what was happening on the street.

Hugh gasped. “Are those—“

Simon swallowed hard. “Cyanide and Queen Bee in person.”

“What are they doing here?” 

Simon had as much an idea of ​​what Queen Bee and Cyanide were doing there as Hugh had, but he responded with the first thing that came to his mind anyway.

“Probably celebrating Valentine's Day,” he replied. “What a shitty place to take your girlfriend during Valentine’s Day though.”

At least take her to a motel. Like I did with Hugh.

“Do you think Queen Bee and Cyanide are together?” Hugh asked Simon.

Simon shrugged. “I don't know, but I know Queen Bee has a thing for Ace Anarchy.”

He had the slight hope that Hugh would take the bait and give him a chance to discuss his theories about Queen Bee's fixation with Ace Anarchy (which he always talked about with Tamaya), but Hugh, despite being very nosy, just kept quiet, watching Queen Bee and Cyanide argue outside the car.

How could that woman walk in such big heels?

“Or maybe Cyanide is the one who has a thing for Ace Anarchy,” Hugh blurted out suddenly.

Simon turned to see him. “Wait, really?”

“Don't be so heteronormative, Simon,” he scolded him. “Plus, I've never been in the cathedral, but I bet that when you enter there, it reeks homosexuality.”

“Dude—”

“I just know.”

And they kept watching. 

There was something very personal about seeing two people arguing from a distance, like old ladies peering out of their home windows whenever the neighbors had a particularly loud fight. Simon almost considered it romantic.

Then, Queen Bee tried to turn around to turn her back on Cyanide, but something went wrong with her heel and she went face first towards the sidewalk, letting out a scream that could make someone think she was being murdered, and causing Cyanide (and the two of them) to laugh out loud.

How could that woman walk with those heels? Well, apparently, she couldn't.

The tension he felt when Cyanide interrupted his laughter and turned around as if he knew someone was watching them, made him remember that they were not gossiping old ladies peeking out of the window of their house and that those two were not some neighbors having a little fight. No, they were Dread Warden and Captain Chromium, stuffed into a hotel room like they were fugitives from the law or something, and those two little people in the middle of the street were two of the most feared and powerful villains in the world.

There was nothing romantic about that.

So Simon immediately closed the curtains. 

But now neither of them was in the mood to have sex anymore, really.

“We should do something.”

“I'm on it.”

Hugh was already crouched slightly by the bedside, pulling his unmistakable superhero suits out of his sports bag.

Simon was so puzzled that he couldn't even stop to enjoy the… image that Hugh was inadvertently giving him by bending down like that.

“Wait, did you actually bring our supersuits to our date?” he asked him.

“Yeah,” he replied without looking up.

Who knows what kind of demon got into Simon at the time, but a not very family-friendly thought crossed his mind, and that thought was the one that made him ask, “Why?”

Hugh, completely unaware of what he was thinking, handed Simon his clothes and dropped the two pairs of boots on the floor as he sat in the bed. 

Only the stars knew how he had managed to fit a blanket, their shoes, and their suits in that sports backpack.

“Because I thought something like this was gonna happen,” he explained while putting on his leggings. “You know, crime doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day the same way we do.”

Oh.

The little not very family-friendly thought hadn't been right then.

Simon felt a bit sick admitting that he wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Oh. I thought...”

Hugh looked at him, intrigued, and a second later, he understood what Simon was thinking. “Oh, stars, no. I was not thinking about that.”

“All right then.”

Now it was Hugh's turn to watch him change. Simon knew that was what he was doing.

Because he knew his look better than he knew anyone else's.

When he was fully dressed, Simon reached out to reach for his shoes, and Hugh put his own hand over his', to get his attention.

He already had the mask on, but he could see that he had turned red. If Simon had been white too, he probably would be redder than him. 

He swallowed. “Unless— unless you're into it?”

Simon swallowed too. But he didn’t plan to answer him right now.

It had been hard enough to put on their suits. They didn’t need to start taking them off. 

So he pulled his hand away and started putting on his shoes.

“Hugh, the villains—” he reminded him.

“Right, right.” Hugh brushed off his knees. “The villains. That’s important.”

After making sure the door had the lock on (and that said lock worked), they turned off the lights, Simon turned invisible, and Hugh climbed onto the roof, pushing himself off the window frame as fast as possible so that Queen Bee and Cyanide, who were turning their backs on them, standing in front of the door of an apparently abandoned building as if waiting for someone, did not see him. Afterward, Simon followed him, assuring him that he could climb on his own.

The two remained hiding behind the building's water tank. Well, Hugh was behind the building's water tank, and Simon was in plain sight, invisible, with his hood on and his cape fluttering behind him, making him feel…

He wanted to say that it made him feel heroic, but the truth was that Simon also felt very sexy when he got into this mysterious and threatening mode. 

Simon turned his hand visible and pointed at them as if to say "Are we going or what?"

Hugh turned to see them with a frown, analyzing the situation. But when Simon was about to ask him what they were waiting for, Hugh turned to see him, with the same smile he had on his face when he was about to let the world know the coolest plan of all the plans, completely ignorant that in reality, it was the dumbest thing he had ever came up with.

“Wait, I have an idea.”

And in that situation, Simon had to take the role of being the one to tell him that his idea was bullshit and that it wasn't going to work, but he used to listen to his idea before expressing his comments about it. Not only because he didn't like talking without knowing all the facts first, but because may he could go to Tamaya the next day and tell her what had happened in the last episode of Hugh Had an Idea And It Went Wrong.

(They also enjoy episodes of Evander Acted Like An Animal Again and Queen, Realize That Junkie Doesn’t Care About You, Please.)

“Do you remember that song Evander used to sing to us?” he asked him.

Oh, Simon remembered it and cringed every time he thought about it.

But the cringe wasn't enough to stop him from singing the song.

“The Warden and the Captain are sitting in a tree—”

Hugh cringed too. “That one, yes. Stars, I hate it so much—” and he pointed to Queen Bee and Cyanide “—Let's make them hate it too. ”

Simon seriously tried to take his role as the voice of reason in that situation. He let his imagination (or rather, his anxiety) run wild, making him imagine the thousand and one scenarios in which that specific fight could turn out worse than they usually did if Hugh made that comment. Queen Bee would probably call Hugh a "lesbian" (“You have a lesbian haircut, honeybun, accept it”), Cyanide would go crazy trying to find Dread Warden to melt his skin slowly and painfully, everyone would wish death upon everyone, and the only reason the fight would end would be because either Cyanide would finally manage to injure Simon or because Queen Bee’s stilettos would break.

He didn't see how teasing them with an attack worthy of elementary school kids would make the situation worst.

Besides… it was going to be hilarious to see that.

He didn't see why he couldn't co-star in Hugh Had Idea and It Went Wrong.

“I'm in,” he replied, trying not to raise his voice too much. “I'm super in.”

Hugh rose his hand and Simon high-fived him quietly. But Hugh seized the opportunity to take his hand, running his finger across his knuckles. “Okay, but you sing the spelling part, because—”

“You don't know how to spell,” Simon interrupted.

Hugh let go of his hand. “Well, when you said it in that tone, it sounds a little mean.”

Simon rolled his eyes and took his hand again. Then the logical part of his brain (yes, the same one that always insisted on being the voice of reason in situations like that) began to yell at him that he should convince Hugh to let Cyanide and Queen Bee did whatever they wanted, while the two of them did whatever they wanted.

But that the logical part of him had no voice in that situation because the logical part of his brain was not the part that loved Hugh. After all, there was nothing logical in loving the way he made a kind of mini-horn with both hands, took a deep breath, and yelled with all his might:

 “CYANIDE AND THE QUEEN BEE SITTING IN A TREE—”

Fifth try

Year 20

K-i-s-s-i-n-g.

That was what he wanted to be doing. He wanted to be kissing Simon. He wanted to be with him, walking in the park and watching life go by in front of them. The birds singing from the trees, the children chasing each other, and the wind ruffling their hair. The day was going to be so perfect that he was going to be able to ignore homeless people getting high on corners or young people dealing drugs (that should be) illegal, focusing all his attention on Simon and how happy he felt that this time, everything he was going well.

He didn't want to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

But apparently, that's what he was doing.

Tamaya was sitting on the floor, covering herself with her wings. Simon had sat on the other end of the three-seater couch, looking out the living room window with a thoughtful expression, worthy of a character in a Shakespearean play or something. Evander was leaning over him and had Kasumi on his lap. She was watching him play (or rather trying to play) a Tetris game that he had on his phone, putting her icy feet on Hugh's arm, probably without realizing it, and Hugh was on the other end of the couch, first starting at Simon, thinking of how handsome he looked when he was thinking, and then at Georgie. She had been smart enough to sit on the reclining sofa, which gave her the space she needed to cuddle with an inconsolable six-year-old Adrian.

“The storm will end soon,” she was telling him. “The storm will end soon.”

But that was not enough to comfort Adrian. His mother had already been telling him for about an hour that “the storm will end soon”, but the storm just ... did not end. And each time they heard a new thunder, Adrian let out a howl and clung to his mother with more force, asking her to please not go away.

Everyone knew that when Adrian asked Georgie not to go away, he was actually asking everyone not to go away. If any of them left the room, he would probably lose his mind.

He felt the urge to tell him that she wasn't going anywhere. That wasn’t very Georgie. Georgie didn't leave people who needed her like that, scared, crying, and begging her to stay. So since Georgie didn't do it, neither did the others.

It is not like they could have gone anywhere though.

Georgie realized that Simon hadn't stopped staring out the window.

“I'm sorry you couldn't do anything special this Valentine’s Day,” she whispered. Simon blinked as if he were waking up from a dream. “What did you have planned for this evening?”

Simon turned to see him, disappointed. Hugh decided to answer for him.

“We were going to have a picnic at the park,” he replied.

Georgie blurted out something that sounded like “Awww”, and Evander scoffed.

“That’s gay.” Hugh put his arm behind Kasumi and smacked Evander on the back of his head. “BRO, YOU LITERALLY MADE LOSE ME.”

Tamaya laughed and Kasumi shook her head. “I want to play too—” she tried to take the cellphone and Evander pressed it closer to his chest “—Vandy.”

Georgie intervened (without letting go of Adrian). “Vandy, give Kasumi the phone. It’s her turn. And then it's mine.”

But Evander didn’t want to. 

“But it only has ten percent of battery left,” he exclaimed.

“Perfect, it's more than enough for Tamaya, Kasumi, Simon, Hugh, and I to get a turn too.”

“Hugh punched me! He does not deserves a turn.”

“I didn't punch him,” Hugh said. “I just hit him very slightly.”

“My brain almost felt out of my head.”

“Do you still have a brain?” Tamaya asked. Hugh high-fived her. “I've been thinking about that joke for weeks, dude.”

“Evander Wade, share the phone,” Georgia said. “I'm no longer asking.”

“No! It's my phone.”

Desperate, Tamaya reached out to take Evander's cell phone, and he stood up so fast that Kasumi ended up falling on Tamaya.

“MOTHERFU—”

A thunder. Again.

Adrian started crying. Again.

And they all went silent. Again.

Hugh took advantage of the fact that Evander got out of the coach to move closer to Simon. Evander didn't say anything to him because he was too busy handing the cell phone to Tamaya, who then gave it to Kasumi. Kasumi refused to sit down with Evander again and stayed on the floor with Tamaya (although resting her head on his knees, as if they were a pillow).

Simon rested his head on Hugh's shoulder.

“Next year will be better,” he whispered in his ear. Simon didn't answer him; he only put his hand on the window, leaving the trace of his fingers on it. “Are you all right?”

Simon put his hand on Hugh’s waist and pulled him closer to him, closing his eyes for a while. “I'm tired…”

“Rest then.”

After all…

Hugh was tried too. 

There had never been a day when they didn't have to face a new threat. It seemed that the Anarchists, instead of getting weaker, were getting stronger. Even with the many new allies the Renegades had, no one seemed to have a second of the day to rest. Adrian got more and more nervous when they went out as days passed by, and it was becoming more difficult to calm down him during his tantrums. Even he, who was a child, could feel the tension in the city.

But precisely because of that, because he was a child, he could not understand the enormous responsibility that the Renegades had on his shoulders and that they could not stay with him, no matter how much they wanted to.

Maybe that was why no one had tried to leave the room. It was their way of telling Adrian that they were still there for him.

He was about to fall asleep when Simon pulled him away. His first instinct was to pull him closer, but as soon as he realized that Simon was just standing up, he let go of him.

Suddenly, he looked happier. Much happier than anyone else in that room.

Everyone noticed that change.

“Are you still too tired to celebrate Valentine’s Day?”

Even Hugh didn't understand what he meant.

Evander turned to see Georgie. “Georgie, you told them no hanky-panky in the house.”

“Vandy—” Kasumi intervened.

“Zoomie.”

“Don't say hanky-panky.”

“Yeah, you sound like a grandma,” Tamaya told him slightly punching him on the leg.

Hugh shushed them. “Shhh, guys, let Si talk.”

“No, go on, guys—” Simon told them “—Let us show you.”

And he held out his hand.

Obviously, Hugh accepted it.

He had no idea what Simon was planning to do, but he wasn't too tired not to celebrate Valentine's.

He was never too tired of him.

Adrian immediately reacted to this. “Hey, no, don't go...” he cried, stretching his little arms towards them.

Luckily, Simon looked like he already had that covered.

“We're not going anywhere, Adrian,” Simon assured him. “You are coming with us.”

Adrian and Georgie's eyes widened at the same time. 

“Me?” Adrian asked pointing to himself.

“You,” Simon replied, confidently. “But it's a very special mission,” he added in a lower voice, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You can't tell anyone.”

Adrian rubbed his eyes and Georgie looked up at the ceiling as if she were making sure a new leak hadn't magically appeared. Tamaya, on the contrary, didn't understand, and she stared at the scene, very intrigued by Simon's plan too. Luckily, Georgie noticed it, and with a frantic movement of her hand, told her to stop staring. Hugh made the same move, but this time, directed at Kasumi and Evander.

When Adrian opened his eyes again, everyone but the two of them was pretending they weren't listening to the conversation.

“What mission is it?” Adrian asked in a thin voice.

“Look, we can't go out to celebrate Valentine's Day,” Simon explained, “but what we can do is bring Valentine's Day here with us.”

Adrian looked puzzled.

“Hey, but you're going to need a superhero name to be able to participate in the mission,” Hugh commented, trying to get Adrian more interested. “Do you have any ideas?”

Simon scratched his beard, thinking. “Hmm, very good question, my dear Captain,” he commented. “Maybe—”

“Oh, I know what superhero name I'll have,” Adrian exclaimed, grabbing Simon by the cheeks. “Hey, your beard feels funny.”

Simon grabbed him by the cheeks too. “What’s your superhero name, then?”

Adrian whispered it in his ear and Simon's face lit up. “It's a perfect name, Adrian.”

Adrian shushed him. “Shh, don't say my real name! I have to use my superhero name, remember? It's a mission.”

Evander scoffed again and Kasumi shushed him immediately. 

“And can he tell me your superhero name?” Hugh asked Adrian. 

Adrian stopped to think about it. “Yes, why not?” he finally replied.

Then, Simon stood slightly on tiptoe to reach him and whispered in his ear the most perfect superhero name he had ever heard.

Sketch.

Hugh took Adrian by surprise when he graved him and carried him in his arms, making him gasp in shock and excitement. Even Georgie started to laugh out loud at her son's reaction.

“Ready for the mission, Sketch?” he asked him making his voice lower than it actually was.

Adrian gave a military salute. “I was born ready, Captain!” he exclaimed, moving his feet in the air.

Georgie stood up too. “Where you taking my son, guys?” she asked dramatically.

Hugh placed Adrian on his shoulders.

“Don’t worry, mom,” Adrian told her, “I’ll be fine. I need to accomplish this mission.”

Georgie pretended to start sobbing. “No, but you don't have to, son of mine, you're too young!”

“Listen to your mother, kid,” Tamaya intervened. “Stay with us, stay safe with your family—“ and she passed her wings over Kasumi's shoulders.

“Tamaya has two wings,” Kasumi pointed out. “And they're warm.”

“Really?” Evander asked.

But Tamaya’s face changed immediately. “It's not for you, it's for Adrian.”

“GO WITH THEM, LITTLE SKETCH, GO!” Evander yelled standing up on the sofa. “GO SAVE VALENTINE’S DAY!”

That was enough for Adrian. He kissed his mother on the cheek and told her that he would be back soon. Then the three of them began their journey to the kitchen while the others stayed in the living room.

Simon pulled out a bag of bread from the refrigerator and asked Hugh to pass him the peanut and hazelnut butter jars from the cupboard. Adrian took it upon himself to count the remaining loaves of bread and separate them into pairs, spreading them on the table. Simon encouraged him to count how many pairs there were and Hugh had no problem helping him when he got stuck at number five. Then Simon toasted them on the stove, and he allowed Adrian to pile them up like a tower on a red ceramic plate.

When it was time to make the sandwiches, Simon and Hugh sat at different ends of the table, each holding a butter knife. Simon would spread peanut butter on one of the loaves, Hugh would spread hazelnut on the other, and Adrian would gather them together and wrap them the best he could in a napkin, before putting them in a makeshift basket that Kasumi had made long ago.

“Mommy, no!” yelled Adrian when Georgie dared to enter the kitchen. “It's a secret mission!”

“Don’t worry, don’t mind me,” she told them pretending not to notice what they were doing. “I'm just gonna prepare myself some strawberry milk.”

As soon as Adrian looked away, Georgie winked at Hugh. And Hugh winked back.

“I think we're done with this mission now,” he replied using that ridiculously deep voice again. “You have to break the news to the rest of the team, Sketch.”

Adrian jumped out of his chair and practically ran into the living room, holding the basket with sandwiches in his hand.

The three of them had been so into their mission, they didn't realize that the others had put several blankets on the floor and Tamaya was cursing under her breath for being unable to use a lighter to turn on the candles. Kasumi approached Adrian, with a VHS in each of her hands, asking him which movie he would like to see, and Evander came over too, but to try and tell Adrian to pick the action movie, not the romance movie the girls wanted to see.

Simon seemed like he wanted to join the conversation too, but Hugh thought he had done enough. And he meant it in a good way. So he took him by the hand and they lied down on the couch, not caring that perhaps one of the others wanted to sit on it.

Adrian had already chosen the movie (he chose the period drama over the action movie, thankfully) when Georgie walked into the living room with a stack of plastic cups under her arm and a jug half full of strawberry milk, carrying it as it were a trophy. During her birthday, everyone in the house had raised money to buy her a huge pot of strawberry milk powder, which they made her promise that she would not share.

Some promises could not be kept.

The adults got two sandwiches each, but Adrian had practically all of the strawberry milk. Throughout the movie, Kasumi was sighing and muttering how much she wanted to wear a dress like the one the main character wore in the movie during that elegant dinner. From to time, Tamaya frowned and muttered something about how problematic she found a line or scene. Georgie braided their hair and when she finished, she would undo the braid and start over, laughing out loud at Evander's comments about how horrible the romantic interest looked and that he did not understand how that was the ideal of beauty that women had. Adrian fell asleep in Simon's arms about halfway through, and about that exact time, Hugh began to notice that Simon was starting to have a hard time trying to stay awake.

He looked adorable when he was thinking, but he liked it even more how he looked when he was falling asleep.

He kissed the back of his head. “Are you tired?”

He nodded slightly. “Yes… but never of you.”

Hugh kissed him again. “I was thinking the same thing.”

“What thing?”

Georgie turned around for a second and realized that Adrian had fallen asleep. She stopped braiding Evander’s short hair (for some reason, Evander had let her braid his hair) and sat on the recliner chair, hugging Adrian like a stuffed animal.

She winked at him once more. And Hugh winked back, one more time.

“Nothing— ” he laid himself more comfortably on the couch and allowed Simon to get on top of him, resting his head on his chest. “—Sleep for a while.”

Simon made no further objection. “You too.”

Hugh did not fall asleep. In fact, he stayed awake for the three hours the movie lasted, even though by the time the credits started, Tamaya was snoring and Kasumi and Evander were under her wings, rolled up, and cuddled up to her. Georgie ended up falling asleep on the couch, covered in the same blanket Simon used to cover himself a few hours ago.

When the clock told him it was 7 PM, Hugh knew it was time for them to go patrol. However, the rain had gotten even worse, and Simon...

Simon looked so peaceful.

He hadn't realized how deep the bags under his eyes had gotten, nor that his face hadn't looked as relaxed as it looked right now for weeks, because he frowned most of the time. He hadn't held him that close either or had the opportunity to give him as many kisses as he had been doing in that time. Not because he didn't want to, it was just ... well, they had been busy trying not to die.

How tiring it was to try not to die.

He knew Simon was tired because, again, he was tired too, and he bet that the rest of their family felt the same as them. But Simon was the only one who had overcome his tiredness and his moodiness to just... make them forget their sorrows for a moment. 

He was like that.

Hugh gave him one more kiss on the cheek.

Thank you. 

If Simon had been awake, he would have asked him "Thanks for what?"

And Hugh would have answered him, "For just being you."

Someday they would get their happy ending. But for the moment, all he wanted was to be crammed into the living room with the rest of his family, listening to the thunder and the rain crashing down on the ceiling.

He doubted that happiness would ever end.

Sixth (but not last) try

Two years after the Day of Triumph.

Just over a year ago, Simon had been on the roof of the same building he was currently in. Of course, it looked very different from how it looked now. It didn’t have any windows, no furniture, and, obviously, no electricity. It was the vile shell of what had once been one of the most beautiful skyscrapers in the city. Simon was thinking about that when he realized that he did not have a single memory of having seen that place when it was in its maximum splendor and that the only proof he had of it was the stories of those adults who arrived before him.

That sooner or later, he would become one of those adults. Those who told stories of the past to the generations that came after them.

He thought of Adrian. He thought that there would come a time when he would be curious to know certain things that happened and would ask questions that Simon would not be too sure how to answer. Not precisely because he didn't want to or because he thought he wasn't ready to hear the truth; he just didn’t know those truths at all. 

Why did people change for the worst? How did the world use to be when prodigies weren’t divided by heroes or villains?

What happened to Lady Indomitable?

How did the world use to be before she was gone?

Then Simon, with tears in his eyes, looked up at the crescent moon and the six stars lined up in such a way that they seemed to form a smile. He hadn’t seen anyone in his family smile for… a very long time. 

Because when Georgia Rawles left, she took with her their capacity to smile. 

Yet, at that moment, Simon could feel her. He could feel her when he was crying, asking her to please fly again and to help him get down from that skyscraper. He felt her hugging him, keeping him from falling to his knees and cutting his skin with the shattered glass that was on the floor. She promised him that she would never give up on him and assured him that every time he saw the sky, he would find those six stars forming that smile, which from that moment on, would be hers. 

Simon didn't want her to make promises, but… it was Georgie. His Georgie. The Georgie who made pinky promises even though she was about to turn thirty because you were never too old for pinky promises. The Georgie who always protected him and never gave up on him, even though there were times when Simon thought she should.

So since she was his Georgie, Simon accepted the promise. As she turned around and rose again to the sky, he wondered what would happen when the city was so full of light, that the stars (Georgie’s smile) faded away and everyone, including them, forgot about them (about her). 

But, after all this time, Simon was looking at the stars, on the roof of that same skyscraper that had now been turned into a fancy restaurant, holding Hugh's hand across the table, and noticing that Georgie was still smiling at him from above.

As it always should be.

“Did you ever expect things to turn out like this when you were little?”

He turned to see Hugh again. “What things?”

But Hugh kept staring at the stars. Simon didn't care. He liked to think that the sparkle in his blue eyes was due to them. “Us.”

Simon shook his head, “No,” he answered when he remembered Hugh couldn’t look at him. “Did you?”

Finally, Hugh saw him again. “I think that when I was little, I didn’t know one could be as happy as I am with you right now.”

Simon rolled his eyes. 

“I'm serious,” Hugh insisted, taking him just a little tighter by the hand. “I'm so glad we finally made it out.”

Simon leaned forward slightly. “We really did, huh?”

Then, Hugh gently pulled him closer to him, making their foreheads bump and closing his eyes. “And I'm so glad that now, nothing bad is gonna happen to you, to us, and to what we have.”

Simon closed his eyes too. He would have liked to promise Hugh that it would be like that. That this new chapter of their lives, the chapter of getting married, having kids, and rebuilding a city together, was would turn out as well as the last one, when they fought crime, defeated the bad guys, and held hands only when they were not wearing the armors that protected them from the outside world. 

But he could not promise that. And anyways, Hugh was not very fond of promises. He said they were very easy to break.

So he grabbed his chin and gave him a quick kiss on the lips before saying, “It's getting late. We should ask for the check.”

Hugh nodded and called a waiter. He noticed that Simon was reaching into his pocket and quickly told him not to do it, that he got it. Simon knew there was nothing he could do to make him change his mind, so he instead just asked if he could get a slice of chocolate cake to go. Adrian would love to have chocolate cake for breakfast.  

The waiter returned a few moments later with the bill (and Adrian’s chocolate cake). Simon almost winced when he saw the amount of money they had spent on a meal that hadn’t been that good in the first place (although he did not know if it was because of the lack of ingredients or because gourmet food kind of sucked). However, Hugh didn't seem at all concerned and reached into his pockets to get his wallet.

Suddenly, he leaned his elbows on the table. “Simon.” 

Simon leaned his elbows on the table too. “Yes?”

“Have I mentioned you look very handsome tonight?”

He tried to remember. “No,” he replied. “But thank you for noticing. I even took a shower.”

“Wow,” Hugh exclaimed with too much enthusiasm. “Feeling fancy today.”

“I do feel fancy today,” Simon replied, adjusting the jacket he had put on over his pink button-up shirt at the last moment because Hugh had told him that the restaurant had a pretty rigid dress code.

Simon almost didn’t put on the jacket out of pure spite. In fact, he spent all the way ranting about how it was stupid to have such a specific dress code in a place like Gatlon City, and that he bet that the owners of that restaurant, who now were acting like total snobs, had spent most of their lives wearing only a t-shirt and old jeans, like the rest of them.

Hugh, who had been wearing the jacket from the beginning (a blue one), was quiet, listening carefully to what Simon was saying until he blurted out:

“We can do something else if you want to.”

He didn't say it in an “I’m hurt by your comment” tone. Instead, he said it the same way he would tell him that they could watch another movie or that they could get take out instead of cooking dinner. He said it as if the reservation he made was not at stake, or as if he hadn’t been sending him hints of wanting to go to that specific restaurant since New Year.

Simon knew that if he had said yes, Hugh would have taken him wherever he wanted. However, Simon also knew that it didn't matter where they went. They had spent Valentine's in an alley, at a fair, fighting villains, and in a house too small for seven people. And in all those places, he had a great time.

Surely that place was… snobbish, but he could have a great time there too.

After all, they were together. 

He was sure Hugh knew that too. 

Hugh nodded, agreeing with him. He hardly ever agreed with someone other than himself anymore.

“Is this your strange way of making me say you look good too?” he asked him then.

And Hugh’s smile grew bigger. “Simon Westwood, you are the love of my life,” he replied taking his hand, “and this is my strange way of telling you I forgot my wallet at home.”

Simon laughed so loudly that the other customers turned to see him. But he couldn't care less. He kind of wanted them to saw them. He wanted them to notice how much he was laughing and he wanted them to see him kiss Hugh as he reached for his pockets…

Oh, no.

“Hugh.”

He tensed. “Yes, dear husband of mine who’s going to pay for this dinner?”

“You look good too.”

That was enough for Hugh to realize that Simon had also left his wallet at the house.

The two remained serious for a long time. But then, Simon could see how Hugh's brain clicked in a very strange way, which made him see this whole situation as the funniest thing that had ever happen to him.

He kissed him once more.

They always managed to ruin their Valentine's Days one way or another, but it didn't matter. Because there was no way they could ruin what the two of them had.

Boy, he would like to see someone try.

[baroquebucky]

baking

a/n: this fic is for the sweetest person @broken-hearted-barnes !!! you deserve the world and more and you’re so amazing and ilysm !!! i hope you enjoy it :~) <3 also im trying out a new format (???) for my fics, let me know what you guys think !

in which you and bucky bake together

masterlist

Baking. Your escape from the world, your muse, and best of all, delicious food. You baked all the time at the tower when you had a chance. Everyone would beg you on the way back from a mission to make some cookies, a pie, a cake or anything at all, they adored your baking. You tried teaching them so they could learn themselves but it was way too much of a shitshow. Tony tried to eat the batter, Steve got confused half way through, Nat didn’t even try, Clint shook his head as soon as you extended an apron his way, Thor tried the most, but it just wasn’t for him. Sam looked at you, laughed, and turned back around. Bucky blushed deeply, eyes going wide before looking down. And Bruce kept getting distracted by Tony messing with his batter. You even tried teaching Peter, who nailed it but was terrified as soon as he presented his pastries to the team, almost getting ran over as they all scrambled to get some. Safe to say he wouldn’t bake in the tower anytime soon.

So for the time being it was just you baking. You were okay with that, you didn’t have to share your supplies or your kitchen, you could just blast your music and enjoy the sweet, sweet smells of the food you made. Then you realized that someone had been using your ingredients, your utensils were slightly misplaced to the right and the over smelled slightly like raspberries. Strange. You shrugged it off and continued about your day, training and following your own routine. Then you heard the mention of the red fruit you smelled before and your ears perked up.

“those raspberry scones you made were amazing barnes! You’ve been holding back on us” sam spoke loudly, you rounded the corner and you could see a very red bucky, rolling his eyes at his friend. “wait until y/n finds out you can bake, she’s gonna freak out” Bucky’s blush deepened and Steve nudged his shoulder.

“you know if you asked her out she’d say yes” he looked at him pointedly, and Buckys smile faltered a bit. He shook his head slightly, his long hair falling into his face. “i don’t think I’m her type, she likes all those celebrities with curly hair” he spoke, looking at the other two men in the room. As Steve was gonna speak your you entered the room, ready to give an earful to bucky.

Then he looked at you and any anger you had melted away, you were left with fondness and the want to kiss him all over. “uh hi” you spoke, a bashful smile on your face as he gave you a grin. “hi” he replied, a giant smile on his face as his eyes darted between you and the floor. “Do you guys know who baked earlier? It smelled really good in the kitchen, like raspberries.” You looked ag Bucky, he knew that he was caught.

With a laugh Steve and Sam both yelled out “it was Bucky!” Before darting out of the room, leaving the two of you together. Your eyes landed on the super soldier in question, chills running down your body as your eyes locked. You felt goosebumps rise on your arms, you rarely ever got cold, the tower was always the perfect temperature, what the hell was going on. From down the hall Sam and Steve told FRIDAY to lower the temperature in the room the two of you were in, they knew bucky would give you his sweater in an instant.

“So you like to bake huh” you smiled, sitting close to bucky, unintentionally scooting closed so you could feel his body heat. Bucky looked at you and noticed how cold you were, instantly taking off his bomber jacket and sliding it over your shoulders. “sorry i hate the cold” you smiled sheepishly as you held the jacket closer to your body. “Don’t worry about it doll, looks better on you anyway.” He smiled, eyes going wide as he realized what he had just said. You blushed deeply, suddenly growing very warm at his words.

“you can’t avoid my question barnes, you like to bake?” You held eye contact with him and he smiled, looking down at the ground before nodding and looking back up at you. “I didn’t want to take that from you, I always thought baking was your thing so why intrude on it” he shrugged his shoulder, looking at his finger while you studied his side profile.

“i really want to stab you right now buck” you sighed, laughing as his eyes went wide for a second, “it could’ve been our thing this whole time! I love having someone else baking with me, hence why i gave everyone baking lessons.” He smiled at you and moved ever so slightly so that both of you were pressed up against each other.

“you’d really want me in there with you?” He turned to look at you, butterflies in your stomach as the two of you grew closer. You nodded, not trusting your voice. The two of you glanced at the others lips, too scared to make a move first. You both stayed like that for a while, just trying to memorize every small feature on the others face. Then you pushed forward, your lips landing on his softly, kissing him gently. He smiled into the kiss, immediately reciprocating your movements as giggles left your mouth.

Days passed and you and bucky were almost always in the kitchen when you weren’t busy. The team was more than happy, getting many pastries in return for dealing with how sickeningly cute you and bucky acted all the time. You had realized yesterday after baking a cake for the team that you were low on supplies, so you made a mental note to go tomorrow to buy some more so you didn’t run out.

When you woke up early the next morning you got dressed, not bothering to tell anyone you were heading out. You calmly went through the aisles of the grocery store, leaning on your shopping cart and walking slowly to try and spot the brand of flour you use. You hummed along to the song softly playing over the speakers, putting the bag of flour in your cart before heading to get the sugar.

Bucky woke up nervous. He barely slept last night because of a nightmare he had of you. He knew it wasn’t real but he had to make sure you were okay. You never woke up early so he immediately went to your room and softly opened the door, expecting you to be sleeping soundly under your too many blankets. Bucky’s heart dropped when he saw how messy your sheets were. Signs of a struggle.

Yeah there was a struggle; a struggle to get out of bed so you could keep to your schedule.

Bucky ran back to his room, grabbing his phone and calling you, texting you and even leaving a fucking voicemail. You didn’t answer.

As you cruises down the shopping aisles, getting some peach lifesavers to make bucky try, you wondered if you should stop by the coffee shop you loved and get something really quickly. You smiled to yourself and headed to checkout, forgetting you never took your phone off Do Not Disturb.

Bucky ran all over the tower looking for you, asking FRIDAY and every living being if they had seen you. Everyone was both shocked and amused that Barnes was losing his mind over you not being in your room, they assumed you went for a walk but Bucky didn’t want to believe them, he was too paranoid.

You decided against getting the drink, heading straight home instead, your heart fluttering at the thought of bucky missing you. You smiled to yourself and tapped on the steering wheel to the beat of the your music.

Bucky slipped on his boots and fixed the knife near his ankle, he was gonna find you no matter what. It wouldn’t be that hard considering you were already pulling into the tower and trying your best to carry all the bags at once.

Bucky rushes out the tower, a menacing look on his face, searching everywhere for your face. You locked the car door and immediately booked it for the doors, not wanting to risk dropping a bag and having to make two trips.

As you ran towards the doors, Bucky game out of them, his menacing expression fading away as he ran towards you arms open and smile on his face.

“don’t hug me! Get a damn bag and help me dammit” you laughed, pushing him softly as he took all your bags and you sighed in relief. “okay I get it you’re strong” you giggled, noticing how stressed out he looked you furrowed your brows.

“bucky are you okay? you look stressed” you noted, he smiled sheepishly at the ground before turning to you when you entered the kitchen. “I’m not- well anymore at least” he chuckled and you cocked your head, urging him to continue.

“i- well when i woke up you weren’t here and so i freaked out and” he pulled the knife from beside his ankle and the gun he had behind his back, “i was gonna go look for you to make sure you were okay.” He blushed and you felt your heart explode into a million pieces, a giant smile spreading on your face as you jumped into his arms. He held you up with ease and buried his face in your neck, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“you are too much james” you whispered, smiling as he set you down softly. “I went to go get more baking supplies, we were running low, and i just realized my phone was on do not disturb, so sorry for missing your” you glanced down at your phone and you choked on your spit, “36 missed calls” you bursted our laughing and he frowned at you. You gave him a small kiss on the cheek before jumping up on the counter next to him, swinging your legs.

“well? if you were so worried then put the things away or else im really gonna be distressed because i hate putting groceries away” you smiled at him and he rolled his eyes, giving you a kiss on your lips before moving to put everything away.

“im only doing this so you can teach me how you made the scones the other day” bucky smiled at you from behind a cabinet and you laughed. “secret recipe” you piped up, sliding off the counter and hugging him from behind.

The kitchen was your guys’ safe place, a place where you could mess around and be disgustingly cute. A place to kiss between tasting batter and have one too many flour fights. Baking in the kitchen with your Bucky was your safe place. 

[falcon-eye]

Felt like I was neglecting Hamra a little bit, so this one is about him! Sorry Veko and Eloise will be back soon, I promise. Another part of my OC story from @inexplicifics Accidental Warlord AU! This one also got away from me. I started writing this literally not knowing where it was going and it just kinda ran wild. Potential trigger warnings for panic attacks, talk of past trauma (but no details yet, only allusions), and Hamra’s horrible self-image. I’ve also given up on italics cuz I’ve been writing all this on my phone and it’s been a nightmare to format lol Enjoy!

Tag list! Let me know if you want to be added! @ainawgsd @rocknrollphanda

—————————

Sonja and Fritz weren’t the only people to come look after the baby, but they were the only ones who knew Hamra was in the rafters and so they greeted him every time they came by. Strangely, it made Hamra feel good even though he came to this room to get away from everyone. They would peer up at him, wave or say hi occasionally, take care of the baby, and then say goodbye on their way out. After a while, Hamra stopped holding his breath every time he heard the door open.

The hole he had chipped in the wall for him to crawl through straight onto “his” rafters was big enough now that he didn’t dislodge bits of rock when he slunk through. Apparently, the baby’s mother had been concerned that the room was falling apart, but either Sonja or Fritz had assured her that everything was alright. Hamra hadn’t met the baby’s mother yet, and though he’d never admit it, he almost didn’t ever want to. Sonja and Fritz letting him stick around was one thing; the baby’s mother had every right to scream and kick him out. He supposed be could find another room, but with servants and apparently more nobles occasionally flocking to Kaer Morhen, the number of quiet, secluded rooms was dwindling. And though he knew about Camp Sulk, it felt uncomfortable to seek refuge in a place so many others used; the mixed smells and leftover emotions alone made Hamra’s skin crawl.

Not everyone who came to take care of the baby came in pairs, but Sonja and Fritz always came together. So it was odd when one day only Sonja showed, giving Hamra a little wave before tending to the child. Hamra waited for Fritz to enter but... nothing. It wasn’t like not having both of them was wrong, per say, but Hamra liked patterns; he liked having some kind of “normalcy” in his life, however form that took.

“Where’s—“ Hamra started, and Sonja gasped, clutching the baby to her chest. She looked up at Hamra and laughed awkwardly.

“Whew!” she said. “Oh, Master Witcher, you startled me! I almost forgot what your voice sounded like!”

Hamra slowly crept down from his perch. “Sorry,” he said softly. There was a few moments’ silence, Sonja watching Hamra, Hamra watching the ground, the baby babbling softly as he sucked his own fist.

“Did you... need something?” Sonja asked.

All the courage Hamra had was gone. He didn’t mean to scare her. Sonja ducked her head to meet Hamra’s eyes and blinked up at him expectantly.

“Wh-where...” Hamra began, but his voice failed him. He wrung his hands together, looked over at the door, pointed at Sonja, and then the empty space next to her.

“Oh!” Sonja exclaimed, and Hamra was just able to contain a flinch at the sudden sound. “Fritz! Fritz is... helping Miss Heddy today.” At Hamra’s blank look, she added, “Olek’s mother?”

Olek, Olek, Olek, where had he heard that name? Fuck, he was bad at names. He was bad at people. He was bad at a lot of things: talking, thinking, signs—Hamra hunched his shoulders around his ears as his mind went on a tangent.

Sonja apparently noticed Hamra’s discomfort. “Ah, I don’t know if anyone’s ever told you,” she said, “since Fritz and I are the only ones who know you’re here.” Sonja adjusted the baby on her hip and took his little hand in hers. “This is Olek!”

Oh. Yeah. That would make sense. The baby—Olek cooed and wrapped his hand around Sonja’s finger. Hamra, not knowing what else to do, nodded.

“You haven’t met Miss Heddy yet, have you?” Sonja asked.

Hamra heard the rush of blood in his ears. His eyes went wide and he met Sonja’s gaze. Oh gods, was she going to tell the mother he was there?

Sonja took a step back at his panic and held out a hand. “I-it’s ok!” she said, now a little startled herself. “I was just curious!” Sonja settled Olek back into his crib. “She’s a really nice lady,” she continued, still facing the crib. Hamra was greatful; having someone’s full attention on him was hard. “She brought Fritz and I here. We were... well, we were in a bad way when she found us. Miss Heddy used to be a merchant. Or, she still is, occasionally. She’s been down in Wolvenburg for the past little while, so that’s why she hasn’t been here with the little one, here.”

Hamra nodded despite the fact that Sonja was facing away from him. The fact that she wasn’t looking at him emboldened him, a little. “You... won’t tell her I’m here?” he asked softly.

Sonja made a move to turn around, but then thought better of it. She put both hands on the side of Olek’s crib and stared at the wall. “I won’t,” she assured, “but... why? I-if you don’t mind me asking!”

If he didn’t mind? He was the intruder here. “I-I want...” he swallowed thickly, picking at the skin of his palm. “To stay... here.”

This time, Sonja did turn around. “Why wouldn’t you?” Hamra didn’t answer, staring down at the floor, but he heard Sonja sigh softly. “If I can be honest, Master Witcher, I think she’d love to know that her baby is being looked after by someone so capable.”

Hamra met her gaze again. Capable? That wasn’t something Hamra had ever been called before, except by maybe Veko. But Veko was his brother, his twin. It would look bad if Veko openly considered his own flesh and blood to be mess that he was.

“You don’t think so?” Sonja asked. She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth, then suddenly spun around to pick Olek back up. “Here, would you like to hold him?”

Hamra’s slow heartbeat raced to a speed he wasn’t aware it could get to anymore. The baby reached out for him and Hamra surged backwards til he hit the wall. Sonja’s face fell. Fuck, he didn’t mean to make her upset! He just couldn’t... How could he hold a baby? How could he hold something so precious? All he did was destroy; all he did was hurt. Even Veko, the only person in the world to care for him despite everything he was, had been burned and scarred by Hamra’s destruction.

Hamra didn’t realize Sonja was calling him for a few moments. When he came back to himself, breath haggard, he found himself on the floor, curled with his knees to his chest. Sonja was kneeling a few feet away. Hamra sniffed, smelling before seeing with horror that Sonja was crying.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” she was saying, hands held up. “Master Witcher, I’m sorry, so sorry, are you alright?”

Hamra swallowed hard and slammed his hand onto the stone floor a lot harder than he meant to. Sonja flinched, but didn’t flee or move forward. Hamra scraped his hand along the stone, catching tiny bits of gravel and dirt in the lines of his palm, forward and back, forward and back, as the rest of the room came into focus. Olek was in his crib, making distressed noises.

“M-master Witcher?” Sonja said softly. Hamra sniffed again and nodded, staring at a point on the floor between them. “M-may I...?”

What was she asking? May she what? May she leave? She was a nice girl, probably trying to be polite to this fucking wreck of a Witcher—wreck of a grown man, even! But when he nodded, all she did was slide forward on her knees a few feet until she was directly in front of him.

It wasn’t until she reached out and towards him that he realized he was making a soft keening noise, because as soon as she touched his knee, he stopped. Sonja searched his eyes, and what she was looking for he had no idea.

“I’m sorry,” Sonja whispered. “I-I didn’t mean to upset you, Master Witcher. It’s ok. You don’t need to hold the baby if you don’t want to.”

Sonja gently brushed her thumb over Hamra’s knee and all of his attention focused on the feel of her hand on him. Why was she touching him? Didn’t she know what he could’ve done just then? What happened when Cats lose time like that? What happened to the people around them?

He must’ve made a noise or a face or something, because Sonja’s hand slid off of his knee. “O-ok,” she said softly, holding her hands up again for him to see. After a moment, she slowly lowered them to clasp together her lap. Mercifully, she also broke their eye contact. “I-I didn’t mean to... W-well, um...” A few tears dropped onto her skirt and she wiped her eyes hastily. He’d made her cry. She was nice to him, said hi and bye to him, and he made her cry!

“I’m sorry,” he choked out, the words sounding almost punched out of him.

“N-no, it’s not your fault!” Sonja said, waving her hands. “I-I didn’t know that would set spark.”

Set... What?

Again, Hamra must’ve made a face, because Sonja hurried to continue. “I-It’s something Miss Heddy says,” she explained. “She says some people call it different things but it’s like... when you’re trying to start a fire, a single spark is sometimes all it takes. And even though it’s so small, it can build and build until the fire is so large.” Sonja fumbled with the hem of her skirt and swallowed. “Some people, some things they hear or see or—or sometimes even smell, it... sets spark. Fritz and I... we were in a bad place, before the White Wolf came to power. And sometimes... sometimes I still... spark. Over small things. And I—I lose myself. B-but it’s ok! It happens to a lot of people. Especially people who have seen a lot of bad things in their lives.”

Hamra was enraptured; he thought this was only a thing that happened because of his mutations and his fucked up head. The idea that others experienced even something similar to what he had—it was almost overwhelming. And the idea that it happened to Sonja... made Hamra incredibly sad. She was so nice; she shouldn’t have to experience that.

Sonja nodded to herself and met Hamra’s eyes again. “I don’t always, um,” she bit her lip again, searching for the words. “I don’t always lose my breath, like that. I... cry. And I get quiet. I-I know I talk a lot, and I ramble, but... but when something sets spark, I go quiet. Because I was... never supposed to speak, before. They didn’t like it. And when something sparks, it’s like I’m back there again and I need to be quiet. Or something bad will happen. A-and I know the people around me aren’t them, but it’s like a part of my mind can’t tell the difference.”

Hamra wanted to destroy any and everything that ever made Sonja feel that way. For a moment, he almost became consumed by the anger at the mere thought. He started breathing heavier, but tried so hard to calm down. No, this wasn’t helping. He was just going to make it worse.

Hamra slammed his head back against the wall and Sonja yelped. “N-no! Don’t do that!” she exclaimed. “Please, don’t do that, I’m sorry Master Witcher!”

Admittedly, it hadn’t been a great idea, but the pain in Hamra’s head made his anger fade. He cupped the back of his head in one and and curled forward with a groan. He heard the rustling of fabric and very gently, Sonja’s hand came to rest on the back of his.

Hamra looked up at her as she was wiping her eyes again. “That’s another thing some people do,” she said. “H-hurt themselves. Please, Master Witcher, don’t do that.”

“H-hamra,” Hamra said softly.

“Master Hamra,” Sonja said, nodding.

Hamra shook his head. “Just... just Hamra.”

Sonja smiled, and fuck if it wasn’t beautiful. Behind them, Olek let out a loud whine and Hamra winced. Sonja stood and went to the crib; Hamra stood as she did so. Fuck, he felt like he’d just been hit by... well, every Witcher in the keep. And a wyvern.

Sonja settled Olek down and when she turned, Hamra was already back in the rafters. She smiled gently at him and nodded. He nodded back and waved. Why did he wave?

“If, um,” Sonja cleared her throat. “If you ever need—or want—to... to talk. I’m, um. I’ll—I’ll listen. Or if you just need someone to—to be there—“ She was blushing, and Hamra could hear her rapid heartbeat. “I can...” Sonja gathered the supplies she’d brought for Olek and took a deep breath. “I, um, I need to be going now. Think about it, maybe?”

As Sonja opened the door, something akin to courage came over Hamra. “Goodbye, Sonja,” he said.

Sonja smiled up at him softly. “Good day, Hamra.”