#go 'i said that wrong' doesn't take back calling your child a disappointment. saying 'you weren't listening' doesn't excuse letting your

[dilfdemolisher]

Watcha’ Thinking About

Summary- You help smuggle goods with Joel and Tess but while waiting for her to return you can't help but let your curiosity get the best of you. | Semi-fluff

Content - Thinking…oof scary, low-key mean Joel in the beginning but also in character in Joel I suppose, Boston-era Joel, awkward!Joel but hey he's trying, can be read as romantic or platonic. Not proofread so there's some spelling/grammar mistakes.

Word Count - 1k-ish

Joel. A primarily silent man who only speaks when necessary, who you are well aware isn't very keen on making friends. A man with strong lines between his eyebrows, from an expression you assume to be displeased from whatever he's thinking about. With what is the question but it's better not to ask especially in moments like this, just you and him sitting in the small living room he shares with Tess, whom you’re waiting for. It's better not to interrupt the comfortable silence between you too. But God knows you’d kill to know what’s going on in that brain of his. Sometimes the curiosity is a bit too difficult to keep to yourself…

“Joel” You ask, breaking the silence. “Hmm,” says not sparing a glance in your direction.

“Watcha’ thinking about.”

Now he looks over with a slow turn of the head accompanied by that look of displeasure you are oh so familiar with. “What”

“What are you thinking about” you ask again.

“Why”

“I'm just curious”

“Why”

“You know you can say more than one syllable right?”

You say with your own now, furrowed brows. “I’m just trying to make conversation.”

“No need, It doesn't need to be made.” He says turning his head back towards the wall. You sigh in disappointment.

“What?” He says, facing you again.

“Was just trying to get to know you is all” You smile politely. “We’ve just been working a lot together lately and I figured it would be nice to know more about you then just your name.”

“You know where I live, that's better than most people get.”

“Yeah, but most people aren't smuggling drugs with you.” You say with an eyebrow raised “Was just trying to be friendly is all… I'm thinking about pigs”

“Pigs?” He asks.

You smile, happy he's at least engaging you, positive or not. “Yeah, pigs can't look up at the sky ‘cause their necks don't bend that way”

“Well I got better things to think about then barnyard animals” He says before taking a glance at the door while shaking his thigh up and down, clearly losing his patience waiting for Tess.

“You sure? What else could you be thinking about” Fuck it you decide, might as well have fun with annoying him. Until you can actually have a pleasant conversation with Tess when she arrives might as well keep yourself entertained. “I love baby cows and their huge eyes and their cute little- Oh! Did you know that baby horses hooves are all soft for the first few minutes after birth”

He stays silent, still staring at the door. Leaving you to sit and think, almost like a parent leaving a child to reflect on their own stupidity.

“Try Joel, try.” Murmers his own brain, he can practically hear Tess say it. He knows you've done nothing wrong to him, in fact you've been nothing but a help to him and Tess. He still hasn't gotten a clear answer on how she found someone like you. He knows he's had no reason to be so cold to you over the past few months, but old habits die hard. “Try, try, try, try” is all he can hear after Tess asked him, in hopes he could calm his demeanour slightly as not to scare you away like it often does with others.

“A foal.” He says, breaking the silence.

“Huh?”

“A foal, it's what baby horses are called.” He says with eye contact and a nod of the head.

You smile, it’s the most you’ve gotten out of him in months. “I wasn’t thinking about pigs. I don't know why I said that but that’s the first thing I thought to say.”

He lets out a huff. But not in a bad way but in a positive way? Almost like he’s amused, is he not…annoyed?

“I was thinkin’ about Tess, how she’s late” He says.

“Do you think she’s okay?” You ask, the tone of the conversation quickly switching from lighthearted to concerned.

“She’s fine” He says dismissively. The air now tense again. “And if not I’ll deal with it after.”

The silence remains for a moment. A silence you know will stick if you don't crush it while you can. “You remind me of someone I knew.” You say, deciding you’d rather speak than be enveloped by the awkward silence you knew was coming.

“Before I got to Boston I was with a group for a while few years back, there were 6 of us” You take a breath, the nice memory quickly fading knowing their fates. “One of the guys was Derek, he was a assertive guy, kinda in a irritating way though. He had a southern accent to like you, he wasn’t as brooding as you though.” You say with a smile.

“Yeah, you remind me of someone I used to know too.” He says with a smirk.

“Yeah who?”

“Before everything went to, ugh” He says while clearing his throat before falling into a brief pause, getting caught up in thought. “My neighbours had this dog” He says. “And it really loved to fuckin’ bark.”

“Oh fuck off.” You say with a chuckle, Y’know I knew a”-

You're cut off by the jangling noise of keys behind the door, both of your heads snap towards it.

Tess enters and mutters an apology. “Listen my bad I didn’t think that I would be that long I hadn't ”-

“Don’t worry about it we still got time.” Joel interrupts before looking towards you. “Ya ready?”

“Yup all good.” You say, standing up and rolling your shoulders back giving a stretch before strolling towards the door. Joel follows as you exit into the hallway as you both wait for Tess as she locks the door back up.

While you all walk down the hallway and stairs in silence you can't help but think maybe, just maybe, Joel Miller doesn’t hate you.

A/N - I haven't written since I was like 14 so this shit but I've had a painful amount of free time lately so this was birthed and I might pick it up again so idk if I hate this and if I'll delete it when I wake up but fuck it we ball.

[lola-bunn1]

The moon and the sun.

Chapter Eight: Finale

a/n: this is probably the longest chapter i’ve ever written, hope it doesn’t suck, enjoy! i really hope you liked the series, and i’m so sad it’s gone to an end now! but if you have any ideas or head cannons you’d like me to write for the reader and neteyam (in this story) i’d love to!!

"I knew it!"

You and Neteyam turned to see Ao'nung standing there, an angry look on his face.

shit. shit. shit.

Your eyes widened, getting away from Neteyam, "Ao'nung-"

He just shook his head, running off to tell your parents.

"Shit!" You yelled

"Hey, hey, calm down" Neteyam said, getting up as well

You started hyperventilating, pushing him off you

"Y/n listen to me!" He said, pushing your arms away and grabbing you by the shoulders, "Panicking will get you nowhere, alright? Take a deep breath, we'll go together."

"We can't go together!" You said, pushing him away and running back to your marui pod

"Y/n!" He called, following you

Once you got to the pod, you saw your parents standing there, your father with a disappointed look on his face, and your mother just looking down

"Dad-"

"Do not speak!" He snapped, "I'm sick of this! Every day it's something new with you, isn't it!"

Suddenly, Jake and Neytiri showed up, Neteyam a few seconds after

"I've given you a chance, y/n. Many, many chances. But you always mess up! You can't do one thing right! You speak when it's not your place to speak, you fix when it's not your place to fix, and when you do all of those things, you can't even get them right! You just make them worse, as always." Your father said as you stood there, trying your best not to embarrass yourself even more

But you couldn't take it anymore. All those years, all those hurtful things everyone said to you just spilled out of the bottle you've been trying to keep closed your whole life.

"Why can't you do one simple thing right, hm?"

"Everything needs to be perfect, you've done enough."

"You know what your problem is, y/n? You always try to fix something but you just end up making it worse. Because that's just who you are. You can't even fix yourself."

"Why can't you just be like Tsireya and not have to be so hard to deal with, huh?"

You dropped to the ground, your tears slipping out of your eyes uncontrollably as you sobbed, Neteyam was about to go to you until his dad pulled him back, he pushed him off and ran to you

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm sorry" You kept repeating as you cried

"Do not apologize, y/n! How could you say something like that!" Neteyam yelled

"Neteyam!" Neytiri tried to shut him up

"No! I've seen you all treat her like utter shit and I had to watch as she took it in silence! She doesn't deserve any of this! She is the sweetest person I've ever met, you all act like she has to be perfect! She hasn't done anything wrong! But every single person in this family comments and judges everything she does! You have no idea what your children tell her. You think they're so great and perfect, how about you teach them how to treat their sister with respect!"

"Enough!" Jake said, grabbing Neteyam's arm and pulling him out of the marui with Neytiri behind them

You sat there on the ground, in silence, your tears sliding down your cheeks

"Y/n" Your mother said, you kept looking down, not a single sound coming out of you. "Y/n" Your mother got down to the floor, she lifted your head up, her tears flowing as she wiped yours, "My sweet child, my baby. I'm so sorry, my baby" She cried as she hugged you, you didn't speak, didn't react, didn't do anything.

Your father looked at you, and just walked away. Your siblings were nowhere to be seen. It was just you and your mother, who held you as she cried mumbling apologies

Soon, she had calmed down, just stroking your hair as you laid your head on her lap. Ao'nung, who left after telling your dad what happened, walked back inside, seeing the sight. Your inexpressive face, looking into nothing.

He just looked away and walked out, you didn't even look at him, you didn't care anymore.

"Do you really like him?" Your mother said, breaking the silence

You just nodded, and your mother chuckled, "Why don't you go visit him?"

You looked up at her, "Go" she said, you lightly smiled at her before getting up and leaving

☽-☼

"Dad-"

"I get it, Neteyam, you like her, but it's just a crush, it'll go away. It wasn't worth the drama-"

"No, dad" Neteyam stood up, "She's not just a crush, I love her. And you don't know how her family treats her. She needed someone to stand up for her"

Jake sighed, looking at Neytiri and back to Neteyam, "I know. I know-I'm not saying you didn't do the right thing. I would've done the same, but he is Olo'eyktan, so even if it was right for you to stand up for her, it's still disrespectful that you stood in his home and insulted him like that."

Neteyam just stood there in silence, "Hey, you did the right thing, kid. You got that?" Jake said, and Neteyam nodded, "Alright, now go sleep. Tomorrow we go apologize, and who knows, maybe he'll let you have that girl after her ikinimaya."

Neteyam's ears perked up and his eyes widened, Jake chuckled at his reaction, "I can tell you love her, so you gotta get on his good side, alright?"

Neteyam smiled, nodding repeatedly before he went to his room, Neytiri and Jake went to their room

Even though Neteyam was happy his dad was gonna help him have you, he still couldn't help but think of how your parents must have reacted after they left. He couldn't help but feel like he made things worse now.

His smile faded, and the feeling of immense guilt took over. He was worried for you.

"Neteyam" He heard someone whisper, he turned around to see you standing there

He quickly rushed to you, hugging you tight, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" He said as he dug his head into the crook of your neck, trying to get as close as possible, "I shouldn't have said anything, please forgive me, I'm sorry-"

"Ma Nete" You said in a low voice as you stroked his hair, "It's okay, thank you for standing up for me"

He looked at you, "Did they do anything?" He said

"Come, I'll tell you what happened..." You said, holding his hand and slowly trying to sneak out of the marui pod.

You two sat by the shore as you told him what happened

"So you're okay with your mother?" He asked

You nodded, he looked at you, seeing your numb face, "Are you sure you're okay?" He gently held your hand, concern written all over his face

You nodded again, you weren't mad at him, you made that clear. So he knew it wasn't him, and he saw everything that just happened, it clearly had affected you deeply.

Everything that had been bottled up for years and years just spilled out, so it wasn't easy to just act like nothing happened.

"I'm gonna go now" You said, he nodded, just as you were about to leave, he pulled you back, kissing you and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer, he then watched as you looked at him in silence, "You know I love you, right?"

You nodded, he cradled your face, kissing you once again before letting go, and watching as you lightly smiled at him and walked away

Once you got home, you could see your father sitting there with your siblings, you looked at him for a moment, before going to your room, closing the curtain

You got on your hammock and just curled in on yourself, slowly beginning to doze off as some tears slipped from your eyes, you quickly wiped them away and just closed your eyes

The next day, you woke up and walked out to see your family having breakfast, you sat with them in silence, your mother looked at you with a smile, you just looked at the ground

you silently ate your breakfast, the others were talking, completely unaware of what happened before, while you just stared

your parents shared a look and ronal nodded, she got up

“come kids, i need your help with something outside” she said as she began leaving, they all got up and began following her

Just as you were about to get up, your father called you, you just stood there, your back turned to him

He got up and walked towards you, he turned to face you, and just looked at you

“You…you are good. You are a good daughter, my daughter” He said, Tonowari was never good at comfort. But to you, this was everything.

You just stayed quiet, trying to process the fact that he actually said that

“Jake Sully?” Tonowari spoke, you looked to see him standing there, Neteyam with him

They both motioned their hands as in to say they see him, “We just wanted to talk.” Jake said

Tonowari nodded, he sat down along with them while you just looked at Neteyam for a second and headed back into your room

“We just wanted to apologize for last night. My son did not mean any disrespect—“

Your father nodded, causing him to go quiet. He looked at Neteyam, “I like you, kid. You stood up for my daughter and showed me that you truly care about her. I forgive you, and I will allow you to have her, if you still want to, of course.”

Neteyam’s eyes widened, and a wide smile appeared across his face, “Yes, yes—I would—thank you so much, sir” He said, trying to be calm

“Y/n” Your father called, you walked out of your room, seeing the happiness on Neteyam’s face, Tonowari turned back to him, “I trust that you will protect my daughter from any harm, and will be a good mate to her.” He said, making you widen your eyes

“Don’t worry, sir. She will be safe with me, I will take care of her.” Neteyam said, still looking at you

Jake chuckled at how happy Neteyam looked

“Her iknimaya is soon, after it is complete, you can be with each other”

You looked at your dad, and went to hug him, he was surprised at first, but hugged you back soon after

“Thank you, father” You said with a smile on your face as you let go

He nodded at you, “Now go, go hang out together. No touching, though, okay?” He warned Neteyam who was quick to nod

He got up and walked outside with you as your fathers started some other conversation

Once you two were alone, you smiled at each other, he pulled you in for a quick kiss

“I’m sorry—I couldn’t help myself” He said

“Somebody could have seen us!” You told him, before smiling and looking around, and giving him another kiss

“Look who’s breaking the rules now, hm?” He joked, making you smack his arm

You loved Neteyam, you saw nobody but him. You got closer with your mother, even though you made up with your father, it was still a little awkward. You still didn’t speak with Ao’nung, but he started being nicer, and it was clear he was going to apologize some time in the future, but for now, this was his best.

But you didn’t care, you had Neteyam now, he made you feel safe and loved, he cared for you, he protected you, he loved you.

☽-☼

The moon.

You’ve always been fond of the moon.

You used to hate the sun, it was the one that outshined the moon.

But now you realize how everyone seems to think the sun and moon are against each other

You were one of those people

The sun was always there, hiding behind the moon just as the moon hid behind the sun as well

But no matter what, the two were always there, with each other.

You now knew how the sun was never the better one, it shared the sky with the moon, they never leave each others side.

You knew this because, you were the moon, and he was the sun.

taglist: @itscheybaby @aespie @kimtaehussy @iheartamajiki @adoreeevie @junnniiieee07 @deathmetalangel @ambria @kittypoopies

[kaebedom-me]

Im not sure if you're open for requests rn but i am so inlove with your stories with the poly bois haha, (youre actually the only one ive seen really write for it and youre also the one who dragged me into liking it so thank you hahaha)

BUT anyways would it be alright if you could write something with childe and kaeya in a modern!college! au where perhaps the gn!reader has been secretly bullied for yknow, taking the two, most sought after, bois in the uni? But the readers stubborn and keeps it to themselves till maybe the bois notice a bruise of sorts or smth? 👁👁

sorry if this was long but have a good day!!

i lOVE this overused trope and aaa I'm so glad you enjoy they!! i think they're the best to this day they're my strongest main :')

if i were reader i'd honestly be thriving and be rubbing it in people's faces like hah sucks to be you bitch

maybe reader is like that uwu i also get that sometimes it's hard to deal with constant mean things being said about you uwu

i kinda see you not wanting to tell childe and kaeya about it because they won't let it slide so easily, they are protective over you after all

also you wouldn't put it past them to not do anything stupid drastic about it so you kinda just keep it on the down low hoping it'd pass you know

but boooy were you wrong, for the sake of plot I'm saying these people are relentless and lifeless and have nothing else better to worry about in their busy college life and the bullying just kept coming LMAO

it started out small, people not wanting to be in groups with you then maybe acquaintances started exclude you from activities the verbal bulling didn't come til after a while

the boys arent stupid they aren't blind and oblivious about it but you never made it out to be a problem so they don't want to risk making you upset by interfering

childe would call out someone for being mean to you though and that usually steers people away for a while

kaeya doesn't try to bully people back but he can't help the things his silver tongue spits out sometimes, ain't no one is gonna disrespect his s/o in front of him

hates that you're bummed about it for a while so will try to make it up to you by bringing you out of dates outside of the town do other uni goers don't see

til one day these high school bullies started to grow some balls, saw that the boys were protecting you a lot and just had to jab at you when they weren't around, some were brave enough to make a passive aggressive comment around them too v rude

i feel? they'd try to interfere like subtly? like want to deter the attention from you but somehow made it worse for awhile HAHHAHAHA

like leaving hickeys on you was not a good idea because you were tripped over by some fucking bitch when they saw it. they even made a comment about how humongous your insect bite was

you'll prolly try to stop them from doing anything weird to you for a while

it really started something when the tripping happened. maybe you still try to be meek about it and hope it'll go away but people are just that free you know? power trip or whatever

they just took it as encouragement and started to corner you while you were going around uni

that's when things became physical enough for childe and kaeya to notice

they'd hate themselves for letting it come to this because you are miserable and they could've done something much sooner and maybe they should've umu

will make you cough up names of the people who have been physically abusive and if you don't they'd be a lil frustrated and disappointed

i see it mostly being like them interpreting it as you don't trust the two of them enough to share your troubles with

they'll think they haven't been attentive enough or maybe they haven't been doing anything to let you know that you can lean on them for support

(but it's actually your brain that's stupid and stubborn umu)

but it's ok because it's time to fix everything so you can be happy again

childe and kaeya have enough friends and intel to know snuff out the morons that's been bothering you

and if it happened to be someone they used to associate with they'll prolly going to be chewed out by kaeya and beat up by childe

i wanna say they gather evidence and send it to the bullies' respective profs but i think they're more the type to settle this on the down low and make people really regret what they've done to you

they do gather evidence and send it school and put the info public to ruin people's lives but that's not until they got their revenge uwu

they type to go and confront the bullies uwu what you can't take what you dish out? childe and kaeya can be even meaner bullies too if they chose to but instead they use their charm for good smh

will scare bitches into never wanting to set foot outside of their room again

but won't do anything drastic enough to draw attention to them, they're better than these people ofc

childe and kaeya can be a very scary combo and you wouldn't want to piss them off. they're both schemers and nasty

one will break your bones while the other would break you emotionally uwu all for shits and giggles because that was what seemed to get them off when it was you

when all is said and done and they've completely ruined your bully's life they'll come back to you for a long talk

wants to know whats up and wants to make sure you don't feel like you have to carry something like this alone again

pampers you a ton

if you're like sdfalfgh about them handling it their way you're gonna have to deal with it because it was the only way

(it wasn't they were just in a bad mood because you were sad)

they'll!! reassure you a ton too!! and talk enough to uncover why you handled it the way you did

they want to be there for you and want you to rely on them for things like these!

also you made them worry a whole fuck ton so you better apologise!!!!!

soft make up and reassurance sex tho :bottom emoji: because you three were really hurt during this time

[kaelsleftverdantsphere]

His heart felt as if it wanted to jump out of his chest. Confrontatiom was never among the things he liked, especially not the posibility of confronting his father.

Am I being ungrateful? They're finally here and I...

"What is it?" Turalyon lifted his gaze from the papers infront of him, looking at his son.

"Father... I-" Oh, light, how hard was it for him to speak.

"You?" The older paladin lifted one of his eyebrows. "I'm quite busy..."

"When aren't you busy?" He frowned a bit.

Turalyon stopped, thinking of how he should refer to the half-elf, finally settling on a neutral term. "Child, I'm certain you know my duties are crucial-"

"I know... They were always more important than your own son..." He inhaled, exhaled and continued. "And I don't blame you, I just-"

"Oh truly? Don't be selfish for one second..."

Oh-... Am I being selfish? Arator stopped in his tracks.

"Is that all you wanted?"

"Yes, father... I apologize- for taking your time..." He turned on his heel and walked out as fast as he could.

Their relationship was reasonably strained after not seeing one another for the entirety of Arator's life... And Arator being himself only made it worse.

He spent days and sleepless nights thinking about how his life would be so much easier if he had just been "normal". And his father was the only reason. Everyone else has been nothing but supportive of him. But his own father didn't get it.

Arator went outside to train and clear his head a bit, but practice didn't make him feel any better. His connection to the light felt just as strained as any connection to his father ever since he came back. And Arator didn't understand why.

He dreamt of this moment all his life, hoping to see his parents alive. But once he did, his whole existence felt... Worse- somehow.

His father was disappointed in his every move no matter how much he tried. Was his father always like this? Was all of this Arator's fault?

"What are you doing?" He heard a female voice from behind him as he was fighting a training dummy. "You haven't rested properly in days, darling, you can't overwork yourself like this..."

He turned to his auntie. "I'm fine. I wouldn't be training if I didn't feel fine."

"I can't tell if you're lying to yourself or to me..." Vereesa shook her head. "What's wrong? Is it because of Turalyon?" She walked up to him, placing one hand on his shoulder, the other on the handle of his sword. "You know you can talk to me..."

"I do..." He dropped the sword and hugged her. "I'm making everything worse..."

"You're not, hon... You're trying to be your best self, he just doesn't understand it..."

"It's not his fault..." He sniffled, tears welling up in his eyes. "I should be better... To make him proud..." He pulled back and rubbed his eyes.

"Arator, you shouldn't care about making him proud... You shouldn't care about what he thinks of you... And you certainly shouldn't care about his approval..."

"But... But I do, Vereesa... I do care..." He whispered. "And I can't just stop caring... I needed his approval my entire life and when he's finally back, he... He hates me! He hates me for what I've become..."

"He doesn't hate you... He doesn't understand and is stuck in his stupid old ways..." She sighed. "Do you feel like it is wrong for you to live your life as a man, Arator?"

"No... It feels right, just as much as it did the first day you called me by this name..." He looked away. "But my father- my father has never said it."

"Hasn't he?" She frowned. "He hadn't called you by your name since he came back?"

"No... He avoids saying it as much as he possibly can... And- it hurts."

"I understand, little one..."

"I am not little anymore-"

"You will always be little to me, hon." A small smile returned to her features. "I am going to talk to Turalyon."

"No! Don't do that!"

"Why not? He needs to hear what he's doing wrong. If he is a good man, he'll listen and try to change... If he's not- it shows you you truly don't need his approval."

"But- what if he thinks I'm weak because I need you to talk for me?"

"Then he can go cry about it to a wall or something! That should be none of your worries right now, Arator... His opinion doesn't matter if it's wrong..."

"But it matters to me. He is still my father-"

"And? Fathers aren't always right- nor are they great."

"But I want mine to be- I want him to be great..."

"I understand, darling, believe me, I do... But I cannot watch you walking around as if your soul left your body just because your father is insecure..."

"Then don't look at me... close your eyes and don't mind me... I am not your responsibility... And dealing with my father isn't one of your duties either..."

"Arator... I will never close my eyes for even a second to the things that make you feel unwell, understood?"

"Understood..."

"I know of people just like you, who spent their entire lives seeking approval from their elders- Just to never get it... Just to keep chasing it even though achieving it is no longer possible..."

"Now that- I don't understand-"

"Prince Kael'thas' father passed away before the two of them got to talk about their issues. And the prince spent the rest of his life trying to feel like he's good enough... And look where it got him-"

"But I am nothing like him-"

"I'm not saying you're just like him... Just that there are paralels between the two of you."

"I-"

"You need to stop wanting his approval... the only person who needs to approve of you IS yourself..."

"I want him to be proud of what I've done... Of my achievements... But he doesn't care-"

"You don't need him to be proud of you... everyone else is... And you should be proud of yourself... you are a magnificent young man..."

"Magnificent young man..." He smiled softly.

"That's who you are, with or without Turalyon..."

"Thank you, auntie..."

"You needn't thank me, darling..."

[pinacoladassmau]

5 🍹

Stede fizzled with excitement, a gentle buzz lingering just under his skin; an electric promise of things to come. He’d planned this for months, simmering with the prospect of the open ocean and sea-salt air, only to be wrecked with worry the moment he’d stepped inside the travel agents ( what if this was the wrong choice? What if it was a waste of time? Was this really what he was choosing to spend daddy’s money on? ).

But then the teller had been so kind and encouraging (‘ This for your wife, honey?’ - Stede had nodded nervously, to which she cooed- ‘How sweet. Wish my husband would buy me a cruise, but he’d never be that spontaneous. Aren’t you just a darl!’ ) and the world was righted once more, knocked back to its correct axis.

Now the day was here (Valentines Day, very apt), and everything was laid bare (the tickets, the promotional photos, his soul–hopes, wants, dreams) across a white-orange checkered tablecloth.

Stede’s hands were gently, delicately laid over Mary’s eyes, keeping her hostage within the suspense. This is what couples did, right? Surprise each other? Book activities to do together? Make grand, sweeping gestures? He hoped so. Stede had proved rather miserable at most other pursuits, the least he could do was be a good husband, a good partner.

He pulled his fingers away, revealing the stage to Mary, the audience; praying she would be rapt with the scene before her. “What do ya think?” Stede asked, voice frayed with anticipation ( What had Mary called him once? Reliable? Steady? Never one for spontaneity. Surely this was fun and impulsive enough for her ).

“It’s a cruise.” She said flatly, observantly, brows furrowing as she picked up a ticket from the kitchen table with distinctly less enthusiasm than Stede was anticipating.

“What would you say going on a cruise like that, for a few weeks?” Stede knelt next to her chair, in a position not un reminiscent of a beg, “You, me... at sea.” Endless blue. Endless possibility.

“Why on Earth would we do that?” Mary asked, turning towards him with a frown he unfortunately recognised, and his throat closed up. He’d been wrong. He’d messed up. Miscalculated. It was stupid, really, the whole thing but-

“I don't know.” The words fell from his lips before he could consider them, “Break the monotony.”

“Our life feels monotonous to you?”

“No!” Stede exclaimed, taking Mary’s hands in his; a gesture he hoped was reassuring, “No, it doesn't, does it? I just think that for our anniversary, instead of doing something here… we could be on a ship having adventures.”

“Do you know I hate the ocean? I've said so before.”

“What? When?”

“When we were on a plane to the Caribbean for our honeymoon! I didn’t like it then, and I don’t like it now.”

She pulled her hands away, retreating from her husband, and pinched the bridge of her nose between two fingers; like an frustrated, exasperated parent dealing with an uncontainable child. Stede felt small, tiny ( you’re the fuck-up, Baby Bonnet. A soft, pathetic little fuck-up ) . He knew she wasn’t trying to be cruel, but the whiplash of excitement to abject disappointment stung nonetheless– a sharp, piercing bee sting he likely deserved.

“I don't want to be on a boat, Stede. Not when I'll be three months pregnant, in the throes of morning sickness,” Mary said, softer, her tone not unkind.

“No... No, of course not. This- this is just an idea. This is it. Don’t worry about it. I'm sorry.”

Stede deflated, like a balloon expiring after the joy of a birthday.

“That's it.”

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[the1975attheirverybest]

I need to vent somewhere and I'm embarrassed about myself so I'm going anon.

I made something really stupid today, i wasn't paying attention, I'm a grown woman bit I feel like a child who doesn't know anything. An agency of tours and visas called me today asking if I've gotten a credit card (i already have 1, they were asking if I had a new one), so they started talking about the tours and the visa and bla bla bla, somehow they ended up asking for my cards infor and I gave them all the info, I finished the call and y see that 1200$ had been consumed con my CC and I was freaking out, I'm still freaking out, I've been anxious all day and I want to throw up. I cancelled my cad, called the bank and they told me there's gonna be and investigation, if it's on my favour I won't pay anything, if it doesn't I'll pay for everything.

My mom almost killed me, I'm going to that agency tomorrow And I hope they reverse this because I don't know how I'm going to pay that amount of money. I'm so stupid and so stressed. Also disappointed abt me 😭😭😭😭😭

Oh my goodness, honey I’m so sorryyyy 💗💗💗 please, please please try to take a deep breath, okay? Slow down and close your eyes and focus on your breathing for a moment.

Listen, it really sounds like this agency doesn’t exist and is probably a fraudulent entity trying to steal money from people. It almost happened to me once. A guy called me saying that he was from my phone company and is trying to collect data “for my file” asking for my number and credit card info or whatever. When I asked for his name and work ID so I can look him up on the company website he freaked out and hung up the phone. Two hours later, he called AGAIN. I was like “didn’t we talk recently? Give me your name and ID and I’ll give you my info” he hung up again. Long story short I ended up calling the phone company myself and they said that nobody from their offices has a record of trying to call me at all and this must be fake.

So, make sure it’s not fake first. Are you in the US? If so, I could help you find out. Also, if you are in the US, you shouldn’t be held responsible for any fraudulent activity on your credit card and your bank should be able to give you the money back. With debit cards it’s harder, but with credit cards, they should be able to do it you just have to tell them it was fraud and not a real agency or whatever.

I hope you manage to sort it out and feel better soon. Please don’t beat yourself up about it. This could happen to anybody! These people and fuckin evil and cruel. It’s hard enough to have enough money to survive these days, they add this stress on top of it. You didn’t do anything wrong. You didn’t go crazy and spend that money. It was STOLEN from you. It’s not your fault.

[toomuchdickfort]

*remembers something really fucked up* ........................................................................ok anyways-

[empressdad]

TOH HOLLOW MIND SPOILERS;

(those are just my reactions from the beggining of an episode till the very end)

— poor hunter doesn't know what the bananas are and has to pretend that he doesn't care

— oo luz teaches king spanish!!

— teenage rebellion

— run hunter run or otherwise you'd have to face your trauma soon

— the way she just yelled "hunter!" and he already knew what's going on. he looks so disappointed and as always tired

— went well

— *laughs* "you want to prove that my uncle is evil" damn could he be even more traumatized?

— of course he read alot about this subject. from "ugh how could you" he kinda quickly switched to "ooooo" nerdy

— he looks so happy

— he never found out what happend to the previous one you say? HMM I GUESS HE PROBABLY JUST RETIRED AND LIVED HAPPILY FOR SUREE

— "darius looks so sad here" is there a chance that he knows what happend to previous golden guard and this is why he's part of the rebellion?

— BELOS OH NO

— smol belos hwh

— he actually felt something after he touched that palisman

— oh NO eyEbAllS

— so easy to scare indeed

— omg i love how much he cares about flapjack

— "ⁱ ᵗᵒˡᵈ ʸᵒᵘ ⁱ ʳᵉᵃᵈ ᵃᵇᵒᵘᵗ ᵗʰᵒˢᵉ ˢᵗᵘᶠᶠ" he said softly while behind him we have a pic from he's childhood where he haves obvious human ears CAN SOMEONE TURN BACK AND LOOK AT IT GOODAMIT

— "i love you" hvdjsvxsbhdjdhshsbsjxhd hunter said that he loves flapjack hunter said that he loves flapjack

— kid belos is so cute

— never done anything worthy appearing guilt sure

— lil nod

— flapjack in an owl house

— hooty the protection system

— DARIUS THATS DARIUS DARIUS AND RAINE AND EVERWOLF GODDAMIT I LOVE THIS EPISODE

— darius actually cares about hunter omg

— another golden guard oh man that's getting harsh

— greater good sure

— he's so classic british evil (don't get me wrong all you british people out there i'm just taking about *kind* of evil like all of those colonizers

— hunter is not fun of dying

— show for kids

— hunter is in denial

— creepy belos

— COLLECTOR OMG FINALLY

— hunter in the memory

— "not as long as he stays on the right path" pls hunter don't die

— well how can you be in denial now huh?

— hunter grimwalker confirmed? HUNTER GRIMWALKER COMFIRED

— "it hurts every time he chooses to betray me" now it's just sad

— found family trope? it's kinda bit to soon for that luz

— oh fuck dead golden guard gallery

— the inner belos is a child. there's living monster made out of the dead palismans in the emperor's mind. that's.. interesting.

— yay my youtube just lagged, waiting for the rest in that important moment cool

— okay, back again

— ⁿO DON'T

— why-

— he's killing those palismans again

— did they changed the actor to philip now? can't tell

— i feel so bad for hunter this is just painful now

— "it wasn't wild magic, wasn't it?" he sounds like he's gonna cry and i want belos dead

— yes he's a grimwalker ladies, gentlemen and all of the other genders we were right

— "you looked the most like him" is he talking about he's brother

— witch hunting did he named hunter cause of witch hunting if so hunter should legally change his name to caleb

— haha philip wittabane goes wild

— "no no no no no" actually yes

— HE ALWAYS KNEW

— his not just belos he's philip lmaoo

— king is worried

— RAINE BRINGED FLOWERS DID THEM

— belos needs more human friends in this world huh

— he changed his form to philip HE DID

— "better version of an old friend" does he mean his brother or not i don't need sleep i need answers!!

— he's evil lmao

— hunter yesss

— i mean.. at least flapjack is alive

— that's called panic attack sweetheart

— pain

— pain

— pain

— that's awful i really do feel bad for him i really do

— we the hell are they standing outside we need darius to help hunter

— and that's it?

— why isn't there more

— we need more

— pls hunter come back he's going to catch you there

— okay so that's it? that's it. and there wouldn't be more episodes for another month. they just left us with a cliffhanger. cool.

[tobiramamonmari29]

outside perspective:

Tajima and butsuma was married but also a father with a blended family. They had both lost their wives, then had met. Their love was a cow love, two frank men, Critical and stoic. they had a total of 6 children together, it hadn't been easy at first. But they ended up saying that they could discuss this dispute instead because the other had disputed his son.

Tajima: I hate parties.

Butsuma: You've already told me enough in the car.

tajima: the school party is the worst. You meet parents you don't like and kids who aren't yours but you still have to watch. Because your own child is sure to come last.

Butsuma: darling, shut your mouth we can hear you.

tajima: don't worry, we're still in the parking lot.

Butsuma: It's not just us in this parking lot. It doesn't belong to you. He said clicking his tongue.

Tajima: I'm sure we'll see this teacher again that Itama called a curmudgeon.

Butsuma: don't tell me about it....

tajima: i told you that letting the kids speak their mind out loud was wrong.

Butsuma: It never caused me a problem.

Tajima: Yeah, you don't know... It's at my place that people complain.

butsuma: stop complaining, you must have liked hearing them.

Tajima: shut up a bit... Watch out, a mother is coming our way... I don't like her either.

Butsuma: Of course you like people.

Kushina: Hey! Butsuma and tajima how are you.

tajima: long before-butsuma nudged him not to say more.

Butsuma: we are still doing well. But you cut your hair?

Kushina: last month, she said laughing and hitting him softly. If observant butsuma haha.

Butsuma: last month? wow I never would have believed you are so beautiful too.

Kushina: oh butsuma! Don't flirt with me in front of your husband. He could be jealous, let's see.

Tajima: from you-!? Another blow comes in his ribs. I should be worried considering your beauty indeed.

Kushina: Alright I'm going. see you later!! The red-haired woman left smiling with a big gesture. Butsuma turned back to her husband.

Tajima: what?

Butsuma: say what you have to say.

Tajima: I have nothing to say.

Butsuma: if you say so.

Tajima: if you insist my love.

butsuma: yes, I insist oulala. He said with a sigh.

Tajima: I don't like that woman! Does she feel flirted? Doesn't she already have a husband, this tchoin!? Nah what's that hair color? Me threatened by her! I'm laughing about it ! Ah! The dredge more or I stumble you. I'm not jealous or anything! She shouldn't end up disappointed. Chip.

Butsuma: are you finished? It's about to start.

Tajima: Only if you don't tell anyone else.

Butsuma: Hn.

the men arrived where the spectacle of the children of all classes was to take place. Tajima was already grumbling because he wasn't in front and he couldn't see well.

Butsuma: I told you to take your glasses but you never listen to me.

tajima: I listen to half that's it.

Butsuma: Afterwards you will complain of headaches.

Tajima: That's not true. And if so it's because this bitch is screaming at her unworthy husband.

Butsuma: Like you care anyway.

tajima: I hope she won't get up last year there was the woman who was in front always on the end.

Butsuma: she was a teacher she had to film....

Tajima: Well she wasn't transparent! Or even the year before we had to go down a rank for a man.

butsuma: the man was in a wheelchair.

Tajima: they think they can do anything.

Butsuma: Hn.

The show started with Hashirama's class. He was doing a show that talked about ecology and the dangers of the environment. hashirama was a sick tree that had to be taken care of by the other children.

Tajima: your son is a tree.

Butsuma: he's also your son now so shut up.

Madara entered Hashirama's show. he made the fire that burned the forest by throwing red and orange colored fabrics on hashirama who pretended to die.

Butsuma: Madara just threw fabrics at Hashirama.

tajima: Madara is a real comedian, how come he only hits hashirama with fabric!?

Butsuma: they are 9 years old.... What are you talking about.

Izuna and Tobirama have arrived. Izuna was a rich boy and Tobirama a poor boy. they had to show the children that no matter the social status everyone could get along. And also showed that bullying was something really unhealthy.

Tajima: come on Izuna hits Tobirama!!!

Butsuma: Damn darling! Sit down damn it.

Tajima: what!? but why is this the best moment of this show.

Butsuma: This is a scene that shows bullying is not a good thing.

Tajima: so what? That doesn't mean Izuna has to lose.

Butsuma: I'm really sorry. He said to the parents who watched them.

itama and kawarama had finally arrived. Tajima was fed up and butsuma was fed up with tajima. Kawarama and Itama showed that the smallest thing could save the planet. He was dancing with signs and picking up litter on stage playing key, key. The show was finally over.

Itama: dad you saw my show.

Butsuma: That was awesome honey.

Kawarama: and me!?

Butsuma: you were great.

Madara: Dad your sight.

Tajima: Yeah, that sucked.

Madara: what?

Butsuma: That was great! Dad and I are proud of you, the others were to shit!

Hashirama: Me too!?

Izuna: And me then butsuma!!

Tobirama: Hn.

Butsuma: great great! Not real tajima.

Tajima: I say the same as your father.

Butsuma: you had interest. Come on, let's get the kids home! let's celebrate at home.

Children: YEAHHH!! They say running to the car.

Butsuma: you're serious! Asshole.

Tajima: Well what?

Butsuma: let's go. He said with a sigh.

End.

[toiletwipes]

and i'd give up forever to touch you

chapter seventeen. ah yes, what could go wrong?

Summary: Wilbur is about two defining truths about his life, he doesn't have a chance with Rosie and that it can get worse.

ao3 link. ~3k words. masterlist.

---

you and quackity made your way back to the dorm, not before you made will promise to head over for some good takeout and movie marathon. his awkward smile and gesture to the gremlin child he called his brother, but you assured him, he could come over whenever, you knew he had family over. whenever he could make it, you told him, smiling at him as you hugged him goodbye.

quackity called you a simp in the car, “who invites someone over when they have family?” he questioned you. you shook your head as you buckled yourself into the car.

“it’s not like that-”

“then what is it like? i’ve only been around you and him for a day or two but you gotta admit, you two have chemistry, he really doesn’t like being close to me unless you’re close too, not to mention, the way he looks at you-”

“be realistic,” you interrupt him, your face dropping, a frown shoving itself onto your face, “i’m pretty sure i’m his first friend in a while, besides,” you remember the morning he’d stayed over, the way he couldn’t stop glancing at rosie. even though he told you, a mere shock he’d get over, his favorite streamer being just less than an inch away of course he’d make sure she was real.

but still, it didn’t sit right.

“it’s complicated.”

preparations for a dinner wasn’t completed until rosie and jared showed with grey goose and tito’s, talking of what they’re gonna do for hangouts in the future and when they saw only you and quackity, they shared a look. “wasn’t wilbur going to come?” rosie asks, eyes on the bottles of vodka as she places them on the counter, making sure she acted normal.

“his family’s in town, wanted to spend time with them,” you hum, stirring the pot with one arm wrapped around your middle, you were mildly disappointed but it was towards yourself more so than him. like quackity said, who in their right mind would invite someone who’s got family visiting?

“well, at least he knows he’s welcome,” rosie gave jared a look, who upon seeing it, was still confused. rosie rolls her eyes, before moving to give you a side hug.

“don’t know how we’ll be able to hang out without our favorite greasy-haired friend,” and you just smile into the hug, “but we’ll just save the alcohol for when he gets here, though, i am kinda hungry, what are you making?” rosie peers over your shoulder, and the night continues in a light fashion.

you offer a sleepover in your room but quackity says he’s okay with the couch, too full and too tired to move from it. the reasons for not accepting are valid, you accept them as such, but you couldn’t help… thinking about that night again.

sleeping in the same bed as will. twice. you don’t know how to justify that.

as long as you don’t tell quackity, you decide, you don’t have to.

~~~

will comes over the next night, holding in his hands a bag, he tells you, “just in case,” with a small smile, and you accept it, throwing his bag onto the couch while dragging him to the stove.

“i have to take a shower real quick, just make sure it doesn’t boil,” and when he’s about to ask you what to do after that, you race off to the bathroom, the shower already running water, and from the steam that had floated out of the doorway- it was boiling temperatures.

he stares into the pot of sauce, watching it as it slowly heats up, forcing himself to stick to the hot steam steadily coming out of the pot, he hesitates before taking the pot off the stove, turning it off and hoping maybe if he waits a few minutes then puts it back on- then it's the right thing to do.

until the bathroom door opens and you call out, “can you pass me the towel will! i left mine on my bed.”

bells ring his head like a christmas carol, this could be his chance to make it right, just grab the cameras and be done with it, die with a somewhat muggy conscience.

he lets you know he’ll get it with a shout, before moving to your room, he finds the towel but gestures toward the cluttered surface the cameras were on, and yet, with how little space there seemed to be, there was a perfect view of the bed. of you that morning, changing right in front of it.

you had to have known about them, that’s the only way when everyone on that dresser had moved except for the camera’s placement and the lack of anything standing in the camera’s way. it had to be on purpose.

there’s no other way, it has to be. but the bathroom door is opening and you’re walking into the bedroom with your head turned to the side as if yelling for him, and when you turn to look in front of you, your friend is holding your towel but stares you down.

“i uh, i found a towel, um, did you take the sauce off the stove?” you ask, moving around him as you went to grab some clothes, holding them close to your chest.

“erm, yeah.”

“good, well, unless you’ve bought a ticket for the show, you can’t stay,” you joke, waving down the towel wrapped around your wet, and probably warm skin, body. he nods but he doesn’t move, unable to look away for a second.

until a second does pass and he pales, “well i- uh well, i left my wallet in the car, i could go get it!” will breathes out a laugh, jabbing his thumb behind him as if to say he’s gonna stay and watch.

“how sweet but you can’t afford me,” you smile without missing a beat, pushing him out the door as you all but nearly dropped the towel from the effort and moving limbs.

sighing, you drop the towel and will thinks he’s so funny for opening the door and holding a pot of sauce, having the audacity to ask, “but don't you think this looks a little weird?” you kick him in the shin and he almost goes down before leaving the room for the last time.

it’s not that you didn’t want will to see you naked, just not under these circumstances, as you curse the gods above.

~~~

“if we’re being completely honest i didn’t know you had taken your towel off until after you kicked me-” “-wilbur i’ll kick you again if you don’t shut up.”

~~~

the sauce is poured over the large shells and there’s a heavy amount of cheese that goes on top of the pasta, but you and him high five over it both and when he goes to stab a shell with a fork, you slap his hand, “we’re waiting on jared and rosie, mostly jared because this is his favorite.”

will grumbles about something but after you send him to the couch you promise alcohol, “they said wait for them to get here to start eating but not to start drinking.” you grin at him as you hand him a cup, and after taking a sip, wilbur understood quite well.

they better hurry up if they don’t want the two of you to get shit-faced.

~~~

“secret time! when i was a kid, i used to run around listening to one song on my dad’s mp3 player, guess which one?” you hummed, tapping your chin as you squint at your friend from the other side of the couch.

“is it bring me to life?” he snorts, his head slumping forward, chin hitting his chest as you shove his shoulder. “what? you sometimes dress as if you work at hot topic or spencer’s, you know?”

“no i do not know,” he laughs and his head leans against the couch, looking at you like it's his first time, like he hasn’t seen you before. and you know it's the alcohol making you feel giddy and warm, like you’re fifteen again, but you let yourself indulge in it. what’s the harm? you usually keep your secrets to yourself when you’re drunk.

it’ll be fine. you know it will be.

~~~

you’re on your second green, wine glass of grey goose, wilbur’s head in your lap and his feet hanging off the arm of the couch when rosie and jared open the door and enter through it, their chatter dying off as you make eye contact and wave.

“already drinking, i’d thought you’d wait for us to get here before then,” you burped a little before you shrug your shoulders without little thought.

“i thought you meant the food, sorry, that one is on me!” you raise your hand to take the blame and when rosie takes it into hers she just sighs bigger than the breath in her chest. when she’s done swinging your hands, she heads straight to the bottles.

“you didn’t drink all of it right?” rosie opens the squeaky fridge door and you shake your head.

“nope! wilby is barely on his first glass and i may be on my second, oops,” you bite your lip as you strain your neck to meet her eyes. she just waves you off.

“we’ll buy another bottle if we have to, don’t worry!”

~~~

jared is squished in the middle of you and will, pulling you two into a headlock as he starts to sing a sea shanty. “it’s about drive, it’s about power, we stay hungry we devour,” he sings out like it’s a sea shanty and with the confidence of twenty pirates, no less. his tenor voice carried itself pretty easily, you think to yourself as you try and hold back down the bile for two bowls of marinara pasta.

“no, jared, the instructions were to get the three of you to sing, not just you,” rosie sits with her legs crossed on the small chair in the corner, grinning widely. “it clearly states so in the card, are you not reading?” and then jared throws his head back, almost spilling his cup all over your shirt.

“what? what’s so funny?” will asks, quiet but smiling with mirth, life filling his eyes in a way it hadn’t done so before, you liked the way he smiles here and now.

“don’t you know, my name is jared, i may be older than nineteen but i still can’t read,” and then rosie just cackles, loses her composure and when jared releases the two of you, rosie has no qualms putting her own drink down and pushing jared back, throwing her legs over his and settling into his lap, stealing his lips into a kiss.

you catch wilbur’s face from the other side, he was about to take a sip from his drink and he’s still in the middle of it, lips drawn slack on his face as he takes in the scene before him. he nearly slams the cup down before stumbling over the living room to the bathroom, all the meanwhile, jared pulls away and makes eye contact with you, rosie making a dive into his neck, “is he okay?”

~~~

it takes you twenty minutes of sitting outside the bathroom door in silence before wilbur opens the door and lets you in, letting you sit next to him as he moves back to his original spot.

you know the gears are turning, they’re turning during a time they should not. you think that timing is a little cruel, he was having so much fun-

he should’ve found out when he was sober, when they’re out of the apartment and not in the living room, probably still in the middle of a makeout session. he should’ve been told not shown that maybe rosie isn’t into him like that, or something just a little less cruel than what he just saw.

you open your mouth, but he looks at you, as if asking you what could you possibly say to make this situation better? that jared was actually choking? that rosie is still saving his esophagus at this very moment like the great person she is? that she hadn’t meant to kiss him? that she aimed for wilbur but clearly doesn’t care that she missed? that jared is in dire need of oxygen and rosie has the magic air that’ll save every conventionally attractive buff guy?

what could you possibly say to make it hurt less?

to make it that it was anything but a rejection? a public one, no less.

a declaration for will to go fuck himself and any feelings he may have harbored.

“you don’t need her, you’re a great person all on your own, and loving her wouldn’t have changed it then.” you say slowly, as if you were still figuring out the script. “and for what it’s worth, you wouldn’t have liked dating her. she doesn’t change for anyone or anything.” you continue and he doesn’t stop you, so you’ll take it as a win.

but in his mind, he wonders how ironic did your words have to taste, that they almost tasted like blood with the amount of iron? a great person? did you know about the cameras? did you know that he had to pay a considerable amount of money to find out rosie’s ip address, and when he found out she lived on campus? how fast did he apply and work to make sure he would be accepted to her university? just for the chance to see her in real life? see how her body would look against his and yet never get the chance to?

he was never a good person, shit from the start, a rotten garden planted with seeds sown from hell.

(what the hell did you see in him? where is this good you can see? why can’t he see it?)

he supposed if you could see the sins of everyone, you wouldn’t be the person you are today. maybe if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t be so kind, so close to him.

his thoughts are interrupted when you wrap an arm around him, pulling him close to your side as you use your other arm to hold him still against you.

he closes his eyes, burying his face into your shoulder as he let the waves of hurt ride out, let the steady stream of tears soak into your shirt, using his own arms to wrap them around you too, feeling shaky as sobs left his mouth quietly, shoulders heaving up and down with every stunted breath, having to bask in the way loneliness tasted so bitter and yet like nothing at all. because it was just like before. before you, before the two of them, before quackity.

it’s just him now.

and yet, he’s wrong. you’re here. you’re here, sitting here next to him as you give him comfort as best as you could, and he wonders what you’re playing. yes, you wanted to collaborate with him but this is not a crescendo or rehearsal. this isn’t music.

and it continues to confuse him when his breathing evens out, when the tears stop pouring but his eyes begin to feel puffy.

what the hell do you want from him?

you guide him to your room, careful to make sure the two weren’t having sex on the good couch, and let him sit on your bed, barely looking at anything beyond his hands in his lap.

you grab the ice cream bucket and two spoons, heading back to your room and you find him picking up one of the transcribed papers for background vocals and a guitar part, and he’s mumbling to himself, even humming as you lean around to put the ice cream on the desk. “it wasn’t making any sense, it just sounds wrong somewhere and i don’t know what to do with it, maybe scrap it-” you begin to rant though will scramble for a pencil somewhere.

he starts to erase a couple of notes and though you make a noise of disagreement, he starts to write in replacement ones and then he pushes the paper into your hand, motioning for you to take a look at it. and when you do, you don’t realize it at first.

then it clicks. it clicks and when you sing it to yourself in a quiet whisper, your eyes widen as you grasp the paper with both hands now. “will, i’ve been struggling for days now, oh my god,” you lean against your bed, putting aside your sheet music in favor of the guitar leaning against the bed, making sure it’s tuned before using your fingers to make the notes sing in the quiet air.

you breathe out, shaky as anything, in shock, before you look up at him and then you push your guitar onto the bed along with the paper and throw your arms around will, pulling him into a tight hug as you thank him over and over again.

“oh my god, thank you so, so, so much, you have no idea-” you cut yourself off and when you pull away you see a dopey smile on his face. before you could stop yourself, you reached up to pull his cheeks down, crashing your lips onto his and just as quickly as it began you let go, turning around in your excitement and spinning before you froze.

you face wilbur, his face blank but with a hint of shock, like he wasn’t expecting that to happen. and you hadn’t either to be honest, but it happened- not an hour after he found out that the girl he’s probably liked for years isn’t into him.

the two of you don’t say anything, the temperature dropping in your bedroom as if it were the polar ice caps and not your dorm room.

“i-”

“-guess who managed to get sangria?” rosie bellows out as she barges in your room before catching the two of you like deer in headlights. “did i miss something?”

...

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[obiwanobi]

Catch me thinking about sith Anakin who got in a fight w/ Palps (did Palps cross a line? Did Anakin decide he had nothing to lose? Idk), barely managed to win and is now seriously hurting and a little freaked out winding up outside Obi-wan's quarters and Obi-wan doesn't have time to draw his saber let alone figure out how a sith lord managed to get so far into the jedi temple unnoticed and Force is that blood? before Anakin's passing out with only a murmered request for help.

LISTEN you can’t keep sending me perfect prompts, how do you know I can’t resist bloody men on their knees begging for salvation, how do you know me so well??? anyway here’s 2.3k of always-a-sith!Anakin who could have been the new ruler of the empire but said ‘no thanks, this is too much responsibility, I would like to be pampered by my favourite jedi now’ (with a bit of Ahsoka as Obi-Wan’s padawan!)

 He didn’t mean to kill him.

Well, not at first.

He didn’t mean to kill Sidious, but pulling his lightsaber from his lifeless corpse only felt like complete satisfaction. A weight on his shoulders he didn't know he carried disappeared, letting him stand up above the body of his master— former master, and gaze upon what was left of him. A shapeless form on the ground. A dark cape around an old man playing at being a god. A begging mess of futile promises when he realised it was the end for him.  

As mindless fury leaves him, his ragged breathing slows down and his fist unclenches around his saber. Sidious is dead. Now that the adrenaline rush is gone, his knees start shaking. His Master is dead. His face is wet with sweat and blood and tears. Dead and now Anakin has no one.

And then...  And then fear.

"You know," Ahsoka groans as the water starts boiling, "I don't understand how you got your reputation of Cool Jedi Master. Other padawans think I'm lying when I tell them you wear the ugliest slippers at home and gets excited by new tisanes."

"You gifted me those slippers."

"As a joke. And you still wear them."

"I'm not going to throw away perfectly good slippers." Obi-Wan wiggles his toes under the red and yellow fuzzy monstrosities, just to see his padawan rolls her eyes. "And they're really comfortable."

"So you're just going to stay there, then? Your whole battalion is out celebrating our first day of leave since forever, but you prefer to drink your tea alone and go to bed at 22:00?"

"No one wants an authority figure around when they're letting loose and celebrating, Ahsoka," Obi-Wan says, pouring hot water in his cup. He raises the kettle towards his padawan as a question, to which she shakes her head. "I thought you would be happy to see me putting sleep before work for once."

"I am, Master, but I thought it could be..." She trails off, fidgeting with the hilt of her sabers. For once, she looks like a typical padawan, just like he was at her age, dying to enjoy one night away from the temple and any kind of responsibilities.

"It's alright my dear," he sighs, "you can join them if you want."

Ahsoka suddenly perks up. "I can?"

"If you're old enough to be sent to the front, I think you can handle yourself for one night on Coruscant."

"Thank you Master! I promise I'll be careful and not come back too late!"

"You do that, and-- wait, Ahsoka," he adds as she's already halfway through the door, "make sure to stay around Cody! And no alcohol of any kind! And don't lose your lightsaber at sabacc again!"

"That was you!" she yells from the end of the corridor, "don't worry, I'll be fine! Don't wait for me to go to bed! Goodnight Master!"

Obi-Wan smiles, blowing on his cup. He already sent a message to Cody earlier to keep an eye on her, so he knows she's in good hands.

He has his herbal tea, his ugly slippers, no reports to read or write, and no immediate Separatist menace to plan for. For once, a perfectly good night to catch up on sleep and meditation.

So, of course, something has to be wrong.

The Force is bright. The Force is lighter than it has ever been for the past few years.

And Obi-Wan can't understand why.  

It's not just him that can feel it: Ahsoka has acted chipper since, more like the teenager she is, laughing with the clones and playfully teasing him the whole fly back to Coruscant. The temple has felt livelier than ever when they arrived, Jedi from all ages going about their day with a new spring in their step, greeting each other warmly in the corridors. Even Master Yoda has taken a few minutes during their Council meeting to note the shift in the Force. No Master could pinpoint the origin of this change, but all agreed that something good happened somewhere in the galaxy, and they were just feeling ripples of the effect in the Force.

Still now, the whole temple feels a bit more like it used to, before the war, and all Jedi are a bit happier without knowing why.

Only Obi-Wan feels like a noose tightening around him. Whatever it is, it's slowing making its way around his presence in the Force. Focusing on him and him alone. Doesn't matter how much Obi-Wan tries to hide himself, it's getting closer and never slowing down or losing interest.

Needless to say, Obi-Wan has a bad feeling about this.

But after almost three years of war, sullen faces and grim expressions, he doesn't feel like dampening the sudden good mood around the Temple just with a few words. He can probably deal with whatever it is by himself.

His tisane is cold when he finally emerges from his meditation. Nothing is clearer than when he started: the Force is deaf to his questions and inquiries, still light as a breeze. An airy unconcern for his restlessness. And yet, a thick pressure still looms around him, getting heavier each passing second now.

His fingers start pulling on his collar.

The clock on the wall indicates that he lied to Ahsoka when he said he was going to bed at a respectable time today. No diurnal Jedi would still be up right now, but he still considers going out to knock at Mace's door. Narrowed eyes and a very long sigh will be his first answer, but Obi-Wan knows that Mace would never refuse to hear him out. Yes, he finally decides when the pressure seems to creep even closer to him, it's worth waking up Mace.

He opens his door, wondering if he should take his robe with him, and instantly stops walking.

There, in the empty corridor of the Jedi Temple, at his door and on his knees, is a Sith. He knows it's a Sith only because he recognises this specific mass of hair, the large shoulders, the dishevelled dark robe. He knows it's a Sith because he has crossed path with this one enough times on the battlefield to recognise him anywhere. Outside of it a few times too. He isn't sure it's a Sith when the Sith raises his head up, bloody and bruised face torn in an agonizing expression, and his eyes are blue.

"I— I didn't know where to go," Darth Vader says quietly, with the kind of voice expected from a lost child. It gives Obi-Wan a second shock to hear his voice, making his presence suddenly real. "You said... You said if I ever wanted to, if I needed help one day, you would— I could—"

Obi-Wan remembers it. He remembers all the times he offered his help. His pleas for him to stop the violence, the appeals to reason, the multiple suggestions of a gentler path. His hand continuously outreached but never taken. He remembers the burning gold of the Sith's eyes too, and his black cape floating above the dead clones at his feet.

His laughter the first time Obi-Wan brought up the idea of lowering their blades and talking around a cup of tea. His sneer the third time Obi-Wan tried to change his misconceptions about the Jedi Order and play-flirt with him in the same breath. The silence the fifth time Obi-Wan asked him his name, his real name, the one a parent gave him.

The tears the last time he gave it to him.

"And you're always trying to save me," Vader adds more forcefully now, like the words anger him, "you're always here, showing up almost every time I'm sent somewhere with your stupid smile and stupid words, and you're always nice, and... and teasing, and disappointed when I kill someone, like you expect me to be better, and I don't understand you, but..."

Vader raises his hand towards him, and it's only this sudden move that shakes Obi-Wan out of his stupor. Before the Sith can touch his leg, Obi-Wan calls his lightsaber to him, ignites it in one fluid motion, half-expecting Vader to be up and swaying his saber in his face by now. But the Sith is still on his knees, and it's only now that the blue light of his blade is above him that Obi-Wan realises the state he's in. His face isn't the only thing bruised and battered: his dark tunic is stained with blood and ripped in more than one place, one of his arms is bent in an unnatural way, and it looks like a cut above his hairline is still bleeding, making his curls stick to his face in a mess of wet hair and burned skin.

"Vader," Obi-Wan says slowly, when his thoughts finally regain a semblance of coherence. A rapid investigation through the Force assures him that no other enemy is around and the calm and quiet of the night in the Temple isn't a prequel for a storm. "How did you get in here? What are you doing here? How—"

Vader's hand, stuck in the space between them, reaches once again for Obi-Wan. Foolishly, Obi-Wan lets him. His fingers twist themselves in the fabric of his pants.

"He made me killed them all.” Vader wobbles on his knees for a second, the hand on Obi-Wan's leg gripping it tighter. “No platoons, no battle droids. Just me. He sent me to the power station and I cut through them so easily, so quickly, they didn't even fight back, and I didn't think that..." he trails off, panting. "Until.... until I saw the electro-whips." 

"Are you talking about Naphtla?" he asks when Vader doesn't seem to be able to continue.

Naphtla. Outer Rim. Barely on the Republic radar until this afternoon, when nearby troops answered a distress signal and found a hidden Separatist power station operated by slaves. A third of them were dead, killed only a few hours before, and the survivors turned to the Republic for immediate support. Slaughtered like animals, the rescue team reported to the Council only a few hours ago, by one single man wielding a red lightsaber. According to witnesses, the darksider cut through the slaves like bantha butter, killing everyone in his path without discrimination, until he stopped for no apparent reason and abruptly left.

"You were the one who killed the people at the station there," Obi-Wan realises out loud, horrified, "the slaves from Zygerria."

Vader snaps his head up and his fingers tighten painfully around Obi-Wan's knee. "I DIDN'T KNOW!"

All Obi-Wan's senses and logical thoughts urge him to back out, put an end to this nonsensical charade, raise his lightsaber between them, get away from the dark, hungry void Vader generates in the Force.

But his eyes are looking up to him. Gripping his gaze with the same intensity as his hand on his leg. Bloodied face and pleading, on his knees. Full of tears.

Obi-Wan doesn't push Vader's hand away.

"I didn't know they were slaves, I didn't!"

"Vader."

"He never said! He sent me without telling him, he knows I don't—" A small noise sounding suspiciously like a sob swallows the rest of his words.

"Vader, who sent—"

"When I came back," he tries again, quieter. Obi-Wan opens his mouth to ask about this he, but Vader's head lolls for a second, too heavy to support, before butting gently against Obi-Wan's leg. Vader makes no effort to move, content to stay there, and after a second, a small, almost timid nuzzle against his thigh sends a series of shivers through Obi-Wan's spine. It shuts him up instantly. "When I came back, he looked at me for so, so long, before saying that he knew, he knew I was going to fail, that I was... just like them after all, and that I could never... And I was so mad, so angry at him, so I... I..."

The last words are muffled by the fabric Vader clings to. Hides into. There's blood on Obi-Wan's pants now.

"What have you done, Vader?" Obi-Wan asks, softer than he intended. "Vader," he asks again when no reply comes, without success. The hand not holding his lightsaber moves, hesitates for a moment, then settles lightly on Vader's hair, mindful not to touch any open wounds. His fingers nudge him to tip his head back, gently, carefully, and settle on his cheek to hold his face up, looking at him. "Anakin." His name, his true name, makes him blink a few times. "Anakin, what have you done?"

"I killed him," he finally admits, barely audible. He looks exhausted, more like a child in need of rest than ever.

"Who did you kill?"

"My master."

"Dooku? You killed Dooku?"

"No," Vader— Anakin frowns, like Obi-Wan should know better. "Sidious."

It's a bit much to process in one day. Another Sith Lord, Vader's master, concealed and kept a secret, now dead, killed by his apprentice —and does that make Vader the ruling Sith Lord now? Do Sith have rulers?— the lightness in the Force the same day, a half-dead Vader begging for help in the middle of the night in the Jedi Temple, and all of that while Obi-Wan is still wearing his ugly slippers.

He's so glad he sent Ahsoka away for the night.

Anakin doesn't let him time to feel the migraine coming.

"I can't do it, I can't be my master, I can't— and Dooku hates me, he will never help me, even if I let him have it all, he will never..." Vader seems to run out of steam, and lets his eyes close as his head falls once again against Obi-Wan's thigh. Closer. "You said you could help me. You said I could come to you at any time. You said you would always be there if I didn't want to... do this, anymore."

"I did," Obi-Wan assures him, his hand lightly petting his hair again.

Anakin lets out a long breath. His fingers tighten on the fabric of Obi-Wan's pants, loosen, and tighten again.

"You're the only one I trust," the Sith quietly tells the Jedi, and it's the saddest thing Obi-Wan has ever heard.

[spencestyles]

I’d do anything

summary: spencer is in love with y/n and y/n is in an abusice relationship. will spencer be able to save y/n? love her when she needs him most?

pairing: spencer reid x bau!fem!reader

warnings: ABUSIVE RELATIONSHIP DO NOT READ IF NOT COMFORTABLE READING THIS CONTENT, normal case violence

words: 4k+

please do not read if you are uncomfortable with the content of it abuse is a trigger. be mindful of this.

enjoy!!

SPENCER'S POV

"Guys this is my boyfriend, Owen," y/n said to the team on a night out.

For the longest time she and I have been best friends, nothing more. I have been in love with her for a while now, but I have always been too afraid to tell her. Now that she had a boyfriend, I knew I had lost my chances.

"Oh my gosh!" Penelope yelled. "It is so nice to finally meet you! y/n has told us so much about you!"

Owen smiled and gave y/n a side hug, "Hopefully all good things."

"Yes," JJ quickly said. "She makes you seem amazing. Hopefully you can live up to the expectations."

"Hopefully I do not disappoint," Owen replied.

The night continued with the team asking Owen questions. I had met Owen before and he truly was a nice guy. That was the worst part. However as the night continued, y/n acted strange and almost seemed afraid of Owen. She was acting timid, something she has never done, not even in front of an unsub.

Owen went to get y/n a drink so I decided it would be the perfect time to ask y/n, "Are you okay? You've been acting strange, is Owen hurting you?"

"What?" y/n laughed. "Spencer are you okay? Of course not. Owen and I are perfectly fine."

I sighed, "Okay, just checking. Are we still on for Dr Who tomorrow night?"

"When have I ever not showed up for Dr Who?" y/n retorted. "I will obviously come. Nothing can ever come between us and Dr Who."

Owen suddenly came up behind y/n, "Wait, you're hanging with Spencer tomorrow?" Owen asked aggressively. "I thought we were going to do something?"

y/n laughed, "I told you I can't ever hang on certain Fridays because I watch Dr Who with Spencer. I also never agreed to doing something together, I would have never forgotten a Dr Who watch party."

Owen glared at me. Obviously he was angry I was hanging out with y/n.

"I think it's time for us to leave," Owen said, grabbing y/n's arm very hard. "Say goodbye to your friends." Owen walked over to the table with y/n and put on a fake smile. As they walked out the door, I noticed y/n look back at me, tears in her eyes. Something was wrong.

The whole team was sitting at the table talking about something random when I decided to speak up, "How did you guys like Owen?"

A mix of complements were thrown by the girls, but the guys, they didn't seem too impressed. JJ, Emily, and Penelope, all went to get drinks while Rossi, Hotch, Derek, and I stayed at the table.

"What did you guys think of him?" I asked.

"I hated him," Derek said simply. "I saw the way y/n acted around him, much profilers the girls are. She's acting just like someone who has been manipulated and abused."

Hotch nodded, "I agree with Derek. I know we aren't supposed to profile team members, but the girls obviously don't see anything wrong."

"Are you guys sure?" Rossi asked. "I mean he seems very nice and maybe you all just think he is not good because you all wish y/n and Spencer were together."

The guys looked at me as I began to blush profusely, "I don't want to be with y/n that much anymore." They looked at me in disagreement. "Guys I'm serious, she has a boyfriend."

"Yeah and you don't like her," Rossi argued. "Just admit that you still have a crush on her and then if something really happens I will believe you."

"Fine," I sighed. "I still like y/n."

YOUR POV

"What the hell y/n," Owen screamed at you. "What the fuck is Dr Who night? You know I don't like him."

You choked a sob, "Owen it isn't like that. I don't like him, he's my best friend. Please don't hurt me."

"He obviously has something for you and you have something for him," He yelled.

"I d-don't lik-ke him Owen," I whispered. "I promise."

This had become your normal routine. Spencer or some other male would say something and Owen would go crazy. Especially about Spencer. Owen would yell at you and sometimes things would escalate. That unfortunately is how it went tonight.

It started with a push, then a slap. Sometimes it progressed more, but that was rare.

"We are going somewhere," Owen said.

You were being dragged out of the house, "Owen, what?"

"Well since you can't be obedient, I'm going to have to teach you somehow y/n."

And like that you were knocked out unconscious.

SPENCER'S POV

I walked into work carrying a coffee for both y/n and I. I decided to get her a coffee to apologize for last night's irrational decisions. I had come to the conclusion that Owen wasn't actually abusive, I was just jealous.

Derek and Hotch though, not so much.

"Baby girl, that guy is a grade A asshole," Derek said to Garcia. "Can you please just do one background check?"

Penelope sighed, "I can't do that Derek, I promised y/n I wouldn't look into him."

I decided to ignore the conversation and wait for y/n to come in for work. After about thirty minutes of waiting I decided to ask Hotch.

"Hey, is y/n coming in today?" I asked.

"Um, no," he said, pulling out his phone. "I got this strange text though, can you look through it."

"Yeah let me see," I said, walking over to where he set his phone down.

"Agent Hotchner, I will not be able to come into work tomorrow for the case. I have an issue with my tonsils. I am sorry." I recited. "I don't think y/n typed this, maybe we should send someone to her house and to Owen's house."

Hotch groaned, "I'll send Derek and JJ, I am hoping our next case doesn't become y/n. Please continue to look over the text and I'll have Garcia look into Owen."

I nodded and put the text onto the white board so I would be able to write on it.

"Hotch, look at this," I said, Hotch walking over to me. "First, y/n hasn't called you agent Hotchner since her first day here, she usually calls you Hotch or Aaron. Also, y/n got her tonsils removed when she was 7."

"Garcia, have you looked into Owen at all," Hotch asked.

"Yeah a little, but it's all normal," Garcia answered.

Hotch glared at her, "Not enough, do a full deep dive. I don't care what y/n told you not to do, he is hiding something and so is she."

Garcia nodded and went straight to work as Hotch's phone began to ring.

"Morgan, you're on speaker."

"Okay so y/n's apartment was spotless," Morgan said. "But it was also locked, so I don't think she went home to her apartment last night."

JJ began to add on, "Owen's apartment on the other hand, was a mess. Like it looked like there was a robbery of some form. Also, y/n's purse was there."

"Garcia what do you have on Owen?" Hotch asked.

"Owen Winters, he is 42 and from Southern California," Garcia began. "As a child CPS was contacted many times and it looks like his dad killed himself when he was 8. It looks like he has an extensive amount of charges for abuse and harassment, all from his ex-girlfriends."

"Do any of them live near?" I asked.

"Yes, boy wonder, 25 year-old Vanessa Montgomery works in a coffee shop near the white house," Penelope explained.

"What is the coffee shop?" I questioned.

"The Starbucks over on Pennsylvania Ave. near the White House," she answered. "Why?"

"I know her, she is the barista that always gets our order perfect," I replied.

"Morgan and JJ pick her up on your way back," Hotch ordered. "Owen Winters is our new unsub and y/n y/l/n is our newest victim."

I sighed as I began to prepare the questions for Vanessa. I looked over at y/n's desk and decided to start looking through it for any details.

As I walked over to the desk, I looked at the coffee on y/n's desk. I wanted to apologize for something that I was right about. Why didn't she tell me? was the only thing going through my head.

At her desk I noticed some things that I guess I hadn't seen before. On her desk she has four framed pictures. One of her, Hotch and Rossi. Another that was her and the girls. One that was of her, Derek and me, from one of the first cases we had together . The last one however, was the one I had never seen. It was a picture of y/n and me from when she took me to Colorado to ski and hike.

I smiled at the memory,

"Spencer, be careful," y/n yelled as I walked closer and closer to the edge of the cliff.

I laughed, "y/n I'll be fine! Come here, let's take a picture."

"Fine! Spencer I swear if I fall, you are coming down with me."

"For you, y/n, I'd do anything."

I then began to look deeper in her desk. I felt like I was violating y/n's personal space, but this needed to be done. As I looked through her drawers, I wasn't able to find anything that could help. Until I looked in the last drawer.

In this drawer, I found papers for a restraining order that had been filed and denied. y/n was trying to get away from Owen.

"Guys, I found something," I said yelling into the conference room. The team looked at me to continue, "y/n filed a restraining order on Owen but it was denied. The date was two months ago. I was thinking back and y/n has been acting a little strange for the past five months. Owen has to have her."

"Reid, we already established Owen has her, but this ensures that he was abusive," Hotch said.

Emily sighed, "The timeline makes sense. She has been hanging out with us less and she has worn more turtlenecks in the past five months than I have seen anyone ever wear."

"Yeah," Penelope said. "y/n has ditched us for girls night for the past few months. She also got mad at me at team dinner last night when I asked why she wasn't wearing something more revealing."

"Her smiles have been fake," I added. "She smiles at us all the time to brighten our days, but they haven't been as nice, welcoming."

"Well, Reid, it looks like you were correct," Rossi said.

"What do you mean?" JJ asked.

Derek laughed, "Last night when you three went off to get drinks, Reid told us he thought Owen was acting violent with y/n and thought she was acting strange. Hotch and I immediately agreed, but Rossi didn't seem convinced. Rossi thought Reid was just jealous because he has a crush on y/n and he doesn't realize she likes him."

"Derek, not the time," I said sternly.

Emily laughed, "I can't believe you of all people couldn't see it Spencer. y/n is hopelessly in love with you and now she is dating a scumbag because she doesn't think you like her."

I sighed as I began to look over where y/n could be located, thinking about the idea of dating y/n wouldn't help us find her. We had made little progression on this, but we knew it had to be somewhere with significance to either one of them or both of them.

I decided to ask Garcia, "Garcia, have you made any progress on where y/n could be?"

"Yes 187, it looks like Owen owns a small cabin around half an hour from here," Garcia said.

"Okay let's go now," Hotch told us.

Garcia gasped, "Wait there is a live feed. I'm putting it up on the screen."

The video was horrific. y/n was tied to a chair looking almost dead. She had blood falling from above her head and looked like she had been through hell.

"Hello BAU," Owen said to the camera. "I have your dear y/n, but you wont be able to get her. y/n will never be out of my sight ever again. I will not have Dr. Spencer Reid ruin our relationship."

"It's not your fault Spence," y/n said to the camera. My heart clenched. She was in pain and I couldn't be there to help her.

"He is the one in the way of our relationship y/n," Owen yelled. "Of course it is his fault."

"Spencer isn't the issue with our relationship Owen," y/n yelled back. "You are."

Hotch started to grab his things, "She shouldn't have said that, we need to leave now. She is already in danger."

We all ran to the SUVs. I went in a car with Derek and Hotch. Derek drove and broke every traffic law imaginable, making the thirty minute car ride less than twenty. The three of us grabbed out vests and began to run to the cabin.

Suddenly, Hotch stopped me, "Spencer it isn't safe for you to be there."

"Hotch I have to go," I protested.

"Spencer, you are the reason she is there," Hotch said. "It may be Owen's fucked up mind, but you are the trigger that made him angry. y/n loves you more than him and he noticed and now we're here. Stay outside." I decided to not fight and stay outside to wait for the other team members. The other SUV pulled up quickly after us.

"Jesus Christ, that was the fastest I've ever driven," Emily complained. "Spencer what are you doing out here?"

"Morgan and Hotch already moved in, Hotch doesn't want me inside," I explained.

"I'll stay out here with you Kid," Rossi said. I nodded in thanks as I watched Emily and JJ run to the cabin. I stood staring at the cabin. Time had become slow motion. It felt like an eternity watching the movement inside.

I heard Derek yell from the cabin, "MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!" I immediately ran into the cabin. I looked over and saw y/n in Derek's arms, barely breathing. I heard Owen yelling at me, but couldn't focus on anything besides y/n.

"y/n," I said, moving to where I was holding her head. "y/n, I need you to listen to me. I love you, I always have and I am so sorry I never told you."

"Sir, we need you to move," the medic said, trying to move y/n onto the stretcher. I began to move when I felt someone grab my hand. I looked down and noticed it was y/n. She gave my hand three squeezes. I Love You.

With y/n on her way to the hospital and Owen getting taken back to Quantico, Derek, JJ, and I all went to the hospital to keep tabs on y/n while the others closed the case.

I sat in my chair nervous out of my mind. Derek sat next to me trying to calm me down and JJ was across from me.

"Spencer, you need to calm down," Derek told me.

"I can't calm down Derek, y/n could die," I said frantically.

JJ began to laugh, "Did you know the other day y/n told Emily, Penelope, and I, that she wanted kids? Can you imagine that? y/n with kids?"

A tear trickled down my face, "She always told me she wanted two kids, one boy and one girl. y/n would be a great mother."

Derek laughed, "The thing that would make y/n such a great mother if her kids were also yours Pretty Boy. I have known since the beginning you two would have pretty kids." I laughed, but also glared at him.

"y/n y/l/n?" The doctor called. The three of us stood up and the doctor began to walk towards us, "y/n is out of surgery. It was touch and go for a while, but she is stable. There were many noticeable signs of abuse that were old, she has a broken harm and three broken fingers, all of which are old."

I let out a shaky breath, "When can I- we see her?"

"I can only let one person in at a time and I doubt she is awake," the doctor explained. JJ and Derek looked at me, signaling me to go to y/n's room. I followed the doctor to her room.

"It might be a little much to see, she may not look like herself. She is very, very fragile and has wires attached to her," the doctor said before opening the door for me. Walking into the room, the environment was tense. y/n was laying in the hospital bed with wires attached to her and much of her body was wrapped up from the surgery and from her injuries.

I went over and sat next to her bed, grabbing onto her hand, "y/n, you can't hear me but I am here. It's Spencer. I am so glad you are okay, but why didn't you tell me about Owen? I could have done something. WE could have done something. I am just so glad you are safe."

For the rest of the time, I sat there watching her sleep. Not in a creepy way, but to make sure she was safe. I was so pissed at myself for not realizing what Owen was doing earlier. I should have been able to see the warning signs. Some of them were subtle, when she wouldn't hang out with the team or was constantly checking her phone. But some of them should have been immediate red flags, the flinching in front of the unsub or how she always wore clothes to cover herself. I should have known. The team should have known.

I felt y/n's hand move and saw her shift, "Spencer?" she asked.

"y/n," I said breathlessly. "I am right here, but I need to go get a nurse. You are at the hospital, Owen hurt you."

I started standing up to leave, "Spence, no. Don't leave me."

I sighed, looking at her disheveled features, "y/n, I will be right back. You need to see a nurse."

Walking out of the room was painful, hearing her sobs in fear of being hurt again. It pained me to know I was leaving her when she needed me, again.

I walked over to her nurse, "Um y/n y/l/n has woken up, I thought you should know." The nurse said her thanks and walked with me to y/n's room. As we walked in, the sound of y/n's labored breaths became more noticeable.

"Miss y/l/n, we need you to calm down," the nurse said, running to y/n's bedside.

Immediately, I walked over to y/n and held her hand. "Sir, you need to exit the room," the nurse said, ushering me away from y/n. At that moment I didn't know what was worse, hearing y/n's cries or feeling so helpless in the situation.

Suddenly, I felt a presence next to me, "Reid, you need to leave, it's not good for you here."

Derek.

"Derek, I-I-I can't just leave," I stuttered. "I need to be there to help, she's all alone."

"Kid, you need to shower," Derek said.

"No, Derek you don't understand," I said angrily. "I can't just leave her here again. I didn't notice when she was hurt and I need to show that I care."

Derek sighed, "Reid, she knows. She's not going to hate you. No one knew that she was going through that. It's not your fault."

I was about to say something when I say y/n being moved out of her room by doctors, "What is going on?" I asked.

"Miss y/l/n is getting taken back into surgery," the doctor said. "We don't know what happened." I began to hyperventilate. I was freaking out. y/n wasn't alright. She was going to die.

As I began to sob, Derek pulled me into a hug, "She is going to be alright man. You'll get to see her again and talk to her and finally ask her on a date. Does that sound good?"

I unconvincingly nodded my head.

"No, Spencer, don't do that," he said. "Don't doubt the doctors and think about the statistics, y/n is not a statistic."

I nodded, wiping my eyes.

"There you go," Derek smirked. "Now, go take a shower at your house so y/n wont shy away at your scent. Also, maybe get her some flowers. She likes-"

"Pink roses," I interrupted, laughing. "Pink roses are the most difficult flowers to find."

Derek laughed, "At least try to find them."

"For her," I began. "I'd do anything."

After that, I ran to the SUV to head to Quantico and get my car. The car ride felt like forever and I wasn't excited for the possibility of seeing Owen. Thankfully, I didn't see Owen between the time of dropping off the SUV and going to the parking lot to get my car. The car ride to my apartment was short, thank God. I decided to take a quick shower, just wanting to freshen up. I got dressed in my home clothes, which were in fact different from my work clothes, contrary to the belief of most of my team members.

I made it to the flower shop that was down the street from my apartment. I was usually able to find at least one pink rose here, but it was typically very difficult.

"Hello," the shop owner said. "We are close to closing Spencer. Do you need anything in specific?"

"Pink roses," I stated.

The owner laughed, "I'll have to check the back, but don't get your hopes up."

I knew I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn't help myself. y/n loves pink roses and I love y/n.

The owner came back, "You my kind sir, are in good luck. We had one bouquet left of pink roses in the back."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," I said, pulling out my money. The owner nodded as I ran out the door to my car.

Speeding to the hospital, I made it to the waiting room. In the waiting room, I couldn't find the team. They were all there, but they weren't in the waiting room. I decided to go to y/n's room and see if they were near there.

Walking to y/n's room, I heard laughter. I looked into the room and saw the team in there along with y/n, smiling. I knocked on the door and slowly opened it.

"Spence," y/n smiled. "I missed you."

"Well I should get going," JJ began. "I need to go see my boys."

The rest of the team followed with their excuses for leaving y/n and I alone.

"H-hi y/n," I stuttered. "I brought you flowers, h-how are you?"

"I am as good as I can be," y/n laughed, obviously compensating the pain. "Thank you for the flowers Spence, I can't believe you could find them at this hour. You have always told me-"

"10 AM is the best time to buy pink roses," I interrupted. "Sorry."

"It's okay Spence, how are you?" She asked.

"Not that great," I said honestly. "Why didn't you tell us y/n?"

y/n sighed, "It was hard Spencer. I already barely had time alone with you guys and I didn't want to ruin it. Owen was also very scary- a mad man. I felt hopeless Spence, I didn't know what to do. I mean I've seen situations like this all the time in cases, but when it was actually happening I felt like there was nothing to do."

I held on to y/n's hand, giving it small kisses while she continued to talk me through her feelings, "and Spencer, I don't want to be alone tonight. Do you think you could stay?"

"Of course y/n," I answered.

"Thanks Spence, you're the best," she said. We continued to sit in a comfortable silence, watching the new episode of Dr Who on the small television in the corner of the room when y/n spoke up again, "Did you mean it?"

"Did I mean what?" I asked, hoping she didn't mean my love confession.

y/n looked at me, knowing I was avoiding the topic, "When you said you love me Spencer. Did you mean it?"

"Yes," I answered.

"I love you too," She said.

I smiled, "Maybe once you're better Icantakeyoutodinner?"

"Spencer say it slower and I'll answer," y/n laughed. "I couldn't understand you."

"Once you're better maybe I can take you out to dinner?" I asked.

"Of course," y/n said. "But no Indian, if we are going on a date I want to go out somewhere. I want to feel pretty."

"To me, you are the most beautiful girl in the world," I said.

y/n blushed profusely, "I still can't believe you found those pink roses! I bet you had to look all over."

"I did, but for you, I'd do anything."

[skiyoosmi]

post-break up heartaches

⤷ verse 2. in the dreams that we once shared

⤷ miya osamu, bokuto koutarou

⤷ verse 1 | verse 3

⤷ play. sorrow by sleeping at last, wrong direction by hailee steinfield

commissions: open

⇢ OSAMU stays still in his seat, melancholic eyes contrasting your bright ones while you twirl around in the middle of the ballroom. he admits, your dream wedding gown fit your figure perfectly as it flowed so gracefully the more you moved. but no beauty can compare to the happiness on your face as you danced with his previous volleyball teammate; the latter having a small smile on his face, not even having a single care about the funny looks you've been getting from your distant relatives. despite the minimal expression he adorns, to someone who has known him for a long time, it's clear as day just how ecstatic suna rintaro was to declare you as his wife, just as you were to call him your husband.

that could've been us, his mind screams all throughout the time he's been in the wedding ceremony, that could've been him dancing with you. he remembers little by little— how those smiles and laughters used to be solely for him whenever you try out his new recipes, from tasty to funny, how he used to be the one suddenly dragged to dance with you, how you used to dream of being married to him. him and only him.

but time was a cruel thing. he should've known better than to keep you waiting for more than so many years with nothing but empty and broken promises. i'll be done soon, yn, you know how much this means to me, this is my dream we're talking about here. stop being selfish please— he recalls himself telling you. he fails to see the disappointment and hurt that cross your eyes, fails to protect the already fragile relationship as you say your goodbye's to him a few more arguments and weeks later— i'm sorry for holding you back, samu. make sure to reach your dreams, okay?

i'm sorry. no matter how many times he says it, your fate was already done with him. you only needed him and he couldn't even give you that.

"hey there, stranger. wanna dance for a bit?"

he looks up, blinded by your brightness that almost seemed as if it mocked his sappy mood but he nods nevertheless, taking your hands as you pull him to the dance floor. in his peripheral view, he sees suna give him a wholehearted smile.

"you should stop frowning. it doesn't suit your face you know? what did you do to my lively samu?" you huff after a few minutes of nothing but silence and awkwardness while you swayed side to side with him, pouting when he shrugs, "you're such a gloomy ass! are you still in love with me or something?"

you swear it was supposed to be a joke, something to lighten the air between you two. but how were you supposed to laugh when he replied to you in the way you least expected?

"yeah, actually, i still am."

silence engulfed the two of you as you tried to overcome your shock. and for all the years he has been with you, it was painfully obvious that the answer he hopes for will not come. not now, not ever.

"samu... it's been—"

"i know. almost 8 years, is it? i know but i can't help it, yn. how could i when you're literally all i see everywhere i look?"

you fail to give him back a reply and (un)fortunately, he feels a tap on his shoulder and immediately, he knew it was time. he lets go of your waist and turns around, heart ready to get drowned by the bitter wine he's planning to drink all throughout the night, accompanied by the tears he won't be able to let out until he comes back to his hotel room.

"congratulations on your wedding, yn."

he ignores the hollowness inside him brought about by the unfinished conversation and goes back to his seat and repeats it like a mantra: not all fairytales get their happy ending.

and much to his dismay, his was one of those that don't.

⇢ BOKUTO was a star, luminous and blinding yet always longing to be part of the galaxy that held the awe of many other people. he was a child with dreams that wander all over the world and with confidence, he wants hear it, see that same world cheer for him.

he was an enormous star but his dreams were even bigger— and as he reaches out his hand to take more of what the universe can give him, he unknowingly lets go of yours.

"you look like you've dropped a huge shit on your underwear with the way you're staring down the court," konoha comments as he takes the seat he reserved beside you, hands deep in his pocket while he does so.

you glare at him, scoffing at his vulgar choice of words, "and you look like that shit, asshole. we haven't seen each other for so long and that's how you greet me?"

he laughs out loud, opening his arms and shoving you in them, "here! is this what you wanted instead? so adorable, yn! i knew you loved me at some point!"

you let out a series of groans, struggling to get out of his hold, "no! you're so annoying, get off me!"

he cackles, releasing you as the buzz rings out throughout the whole court, signaling the beginning of the match between msby and schweiden adlers. you shift in your seat, watching the players get introduced one by one, gasping when your ex-boyfriend literally does two cartwheels in his turn. is he... serious?

"where does he think he is... some kind of circus?" konoha snickers, shaking his head in amusement. oddly, you find yourself laughing with your companion. after all, this was typical bokuto, so full of energy and surprises.

"he looks... okay. very much okay," you bitterly state, placing your chin right on your palm as your arms and elbows rested on your lap. envy envelops your whole being as you watch him lively wave to the crowds, a large grin staying on his face. you huff silently, eyes trying to look at the other players but gravity seems to be playing its tricks on you as you find yourself reverting back to his figure. you wonder if time will let you become that happy someday.

"you're not...?" the lad beside you trails off, sighing when you shake your head 'no.'

"of course not yet, aki. it's not that i still love him or anything but he's just... he was everything, you know? he's become part of all my routines and now that he's gone, it... it just feels empty. like the dreams that used to help me sleep at night suddenly went away," he nods, not pushing you to say anything further. you both knew better than to have a shameful breakdown in public.

"god, i keep forgetting that the air conditioning in here is the worst," you grumble under your breath, rubbing your hands together to keep them from freezing out... because bokuto was no longer there to keep them warm, no longer there to offer you his own hands because you both forgot your gloves at home, no longer there to blow on them as if it was effective (it distracted you both at least), no longe—

"here, give me your hand," konoha reaches out to you, palms awaiting for yours to be in contact with his. you blink, surprised by his sudden offer, along with the pink hues that dusted both sides of his cheeks.

"we can't have them becoming numb, can we? i... i want to hold these hands for a very long time, you know?" he stutters as he begins rubbing both of your hands together, successfully getting rid of the cold and providing a new warmth you never expected will come sooner. oh... it's time, huh?

"uhm... yeah... thank you," you felt your face get hot. it seems like something... rather, someone has come to distract from the coldness you've been recently feeling.

"give me your days," he coughs out, still blushing. if anything, he's flushing even more now, "i'll fill the emptiness in them... and... and i can be your dream so you can sleep tight... and you'll be mine."

you gape at him, thousands of scenes flying through your mind but all of them led to one specific scenario.

"i... i have a lot of dreams, yn! i want to become a star player, someone who everyone will look up to and cheer for! and i... i think i want to focu—"

"i get it, bo. i'll get out of your way then. thank you... for everything."

"i-i'll be your dream?"

konoha chokes on his own saliva, "y-yeah! don't make me repeat it though, do you even know how cheesy that sounds? i can't believe i just said that, god... the things you make me do, you...!"

"okay."

it was his turn to blink, "e-eh?"

"i guess this is day one then?"

"eh?! wait... we... we're dating now, right?!"

"shut up now, aki."

as his golden eyes observe the two figures sitting by the stands, bokuto wishes he could've seen sooner that you were the one he had always been dreaming of, yearning for; wishes it could be him that was holding your hands again and he swears to whoever god there is, he won't let go of them anymore.

but then again, it seems like you were finally ready to wander with someone that wasn't him— who was he to stop you from doing so?

he was just a star;

you were the whole universe,

his universe.

© SKIYOOSMI, 2021. reposting, translating, editing, copying and any kind of plagiarism are strictly prohibited, thank you.

[wizkiddx]

work with me

this is for @worldoftom 'lolbrosgetsicktoo' challenge event thing - go check it out bcos lots of much better writers have got involved too✨! I'm v new to these things but I tried :) the prompt was: 'would you quit whining and just get in the bath' . (also look at me acc posting sort of regularly, who'd of thought?!?!)

warnings: sickness / fever (more dramatic than it needs to be) / LOTS of medical inaccuracies

summary: when tom doesn't take advice and ends up very ill, very far from home, there's one person whose stuck dealing with it

“Please Tom… I need you to work with me!”

It wasn’t his fault he was being a complete nightmare, though your patience was wearing off somewhat.

For context, you were in Morocco, where he had been filming part of his next film, which only made trying to take care of him that bit harder.

Everyone got ill sometimes. It wasn’t his fault.

That was the mantra ringing through your head, even if you had a more challenging time believing it. Tom wasn’t stupid, as much as he liked to joke about it. HOWEVER, what he was less good at was heeding warnings. He was a white boy in Morrocco; the health and safety briefing had literally been aimed at him. Had he taken the advice not to eat any dodgy looking meats at the market?

Of course not; that’d be boring.

Everyone else was fine. You’d all sampled Morroccos culture without giving yourselves the worst case of food poisoning you’d ever witnessed. But not Tom - possibly one of the only ‘indispensable’ people on the set. If you, or one of the minor characters, or even the director, had got ill - the show could continue.

When you’d been rudely awoken by your phone going off, you’d known instantly. It was as if you’d told him not to take a bite out of the weird burger once you were away from the eager view of the street vendor. Sure enough, with bleary eyes, you hissed at the brightness of the phone screen before seeing ‘Tom H’ on the screen.

“Y/n?” His voice was croaky, but just from the single call of your name, it was clear he was feeling sorry for himself.

“Are you okay? It’s late T.”

“Um I… can you come over? You…you might need the key I’m - um- in the bathroom.”

As his stylist, it technically wasn’t part of your job description to also be mother when he was sick, but (unfortunately for you) after the 3 years working side by side with him - you were also friends.

Which you were almost regretting by the second time rinsing the toilet bowl clean after he’d evacuated what seemed to be the majority of his vital organs into it. Honestly, it was impressive how he managed to keep going.

That had been at around 4 in the morning- the doctor had been called at 8, coinciding beautifully with his 5th toilet extravaganza. Once the doctor had confirmed your original, if completely unqualified, diagnosis of food poisoning - you hadn’t been able to bite your tongue. Perhaps an ‘i told you so’ might’ve slipped past your lips, but Tom was a bit too out of it to argue back.

You’d been given firm advice from the doctor - he said little sips of water, rest and control his temperature. It all had seen pretty simple - though the action? Not so much.

It wasn’t his fault, yet Tom was not super compliant. You and Harry had both been taking turns in practically forcing him to take sips of water, having to turn off ‘modern family’ till he did. The blackmail had put you both in his bad book.

Honestly, thank the lord Harry was here too. You’d woken him up at seven, begging for help and since then, you’d tagged teamed. While one was looking after Tom, the other was phoning the director, the doctor, and the crew to inform them of the current situation.

Again, of all people. Why’d it have to be Tom?

Mainly because you knew how mortifying he found this. He didn’t like people fussing over him, never had. He liked to work hard, liked to make people happy - definitely didn’t like to feel a burden. Perhaps what made him feel ten times worse was that he knew he was inconveniencing the whole production team massively.

And yes, as you’d unhelpfully reminded him, it was ‘his fault’.

The lavish hotel room, big bathroom and pretty efficient AC still didn’t manage to mask the pungent in-the-back-of-your-throat smell from the bathroom. At the doctor’s advice, who had been a little concerned at Toms fever, Harry had cranked the AC on high. It had forced you to steal one of Tom’s big hoodies and a pair of joggers- you hadn’t left his room since he first called you, still wearing your tiny pyjama shorts and an old tee.

“Please turn the air con off.” His little voice whined from where he was lying, huddled up under the covers. Perched on the other side of the double bed, but over the covers with your laptop on his lap, you could actually feel him shivering with the chills. It felt like you were torturing the poor boy.

“T you know I can’t. It’ll make your fever worse.” The way he looked up at you, like a little Labrador that you were refusing to pet, actually pained your heart.

Okay, so yes it was his fault, but you weren’t mad, you just felt so awful for him.

“Please I’ll- I’ll pay you more.” His voice was hoarse; though he denied a sore throat, it sounded like the constant sickness was burning his windpipe.

“Tommm” you pouted, sticking your bottom lip out “I don’t want your money, want you to get better.”

Apparently giving up, brown eyes shot you the filthiest look in disappointment, rolling to face away from you. You thought he was giving you the silent treatment in a huff, but instead, he was praying on the weaker one.

“Harry, I’ll buy you that set of golf clubs-“

“NO!” You had to interrupt before Harry would say yes - because from the way his younger brother shot up from the arm chair, he was about to. Scowling eyes slowly focused back on you in annoyance, making you huff - shutting the laptop and kneeling on the bed to face him. After pressing the back of your palm to his forehead, which was scorching hot, you sighed. “I know you feel shitty and I’m so so sorry but I’m trying to make you better. So shut up, drink this and go to sleep!”

Like a child scorned, you received another death glare however, then he complied, taking a sip of the water you offered before lying back - huddling even tighter.

And it had been relatively peaceful for a few hours; Tom seemed to be getting some sleep - even if he was tossing and turning. Eventually, a prescription that the doctor had requested worked its way through the system, Harry getting a text to say he could go pick it up. The nearest pharmacy was probably a 30 minute drive from the hotel, so he left as soon as.

This left you alone with Tom, where the situation only descended into more chaos.

Almost as soon as Harry had left, Tom had stirred with a grunt. All it took was one look at his face for you to know. Both of you leapt up and flew into the toilet, Tom once again getting very familiar with the Moroccan toilet bowl.

This time though, when he had leant backwards, he’d sort of lost control and flopped most the way - you catching him before he could hit his head on the tiled floor.

“Woah, easy there!” It wasn’t like he’d passed out, but the look in his eye as he slumped into your lap… he wasn’t all there either. “Hey Tom… you with me? Tom?”

Lazily he blinked up at you, not really replying except for groans of half-formed words.

Deciding this had all got a bit direr, you almost sprinted back into the room, grabbing your phone and returning. He was still on the floor, his thumb and first finger pressing into each eye - groaning again.

“Hey Tom? I’m gonna call the doctor you need anything?” He whined in response, stopping only when you stroked his sweaty hair back, most of your attention on dialling the correct number.

The solution he’d given wasn’t pretty: Tom’s fever was too high hence why he was all woozy and groany. Until the doctor could get over with the stronger medications, you needed to lower his temperature in other ways or take him to hospital. He’d absolutely hate hospital, but the other choice? Boy, was he not going to like it either.

Ignoring Tom’s croaked question of what you were doing, you busied yourself switching on the bath taps. You let the water run until it was the right (very mild) temperate, then turned back to Tom, who’d managed to work himself up to sit against the sink unit.

“The doctor says you need it.” His brain was foggy, his mind was slow but your tone told him enough to know something was wrong with the bath. “Just take your clothes off and then I’ll help you-“

“Absolutely fucking not.” Good. He was still with it enough to argue.

“I am just as uncomfortable as you are Tom, but we both know you can’t stand up without fainting, so you are going to need my help.”

“Y/n!”

“Keep your boxers on and it’s just like a fitting! I’ve seen you have those before!”

It was clear as day just how emasculated he felt, especially because he knew you were right. Sitting up at this current moment was a push; there was no way he was getting in the bath without some help. Defeatedly he nodded, but gave you a piercing look to turn around before he started wiggling himself out of the flannel pyjama trousers and light cotton t-shirt. Most confusingly, he still felt freezing cold, yet he had long since learned not to argue with you - especially when your justification came from the advice of a doctor.

Your cue to turn around came in the form of an extra angry-sounding grunt- the look you got when you did wasn’t much better either. It was a weird contrast, though, having someone who physically appeared so indestructible (a superhero for crying out loud); to have been absolutely beaten to a pulp by a few mouth fulls of weird meat. You had seen his bare torso before, although it still wasn’t something easy to get used to - making you clench your teeth together just slightly. A very welcome view.

Perhaps you looked just a little too long at the man who was technically your boss, hunched angrily on the floor in nothing but his calvins - another grunt shaking you out of it. By now, the bath was almost full and you hurried to shut off the water, feeling your cheeks heat up as you cursed silently to yourself.

“Okay come on, gimme your arm.” Begrudgingly Tom followed your request, slinging his arm heavily over your shoulder as you crouched beside him. As strong as he looked, you knew right now he felt powerlessly weak - all that muscle was just going to be almost dead weight.

Now it was your turn to grunt and groan as you pulled Tom up to stand, him focusing on blinking away the headrush he got.

“Come on T work with me here.” Getting him to the side of the bath wasn’t too difficult, the issue came when he stepped with one foot into the bath and yelped, instantly withdrawing as if it was a literal ice bath.

The sudden movement had you both losing balance, ending with Tom sitting on the edge of the bath and you leaning over him, in between his legs, and slapping your hand on the wall opposite purely so you both didn’t end up in the bath.

“Tom!”

“It’s like ice water!”

“Its lukewarm like the doctor said!”

“It is not its from the fucking arctic!”

“Oh for god sake!” Exasperated, you paced up and down the bathroom shaking your head at his ridiculousness. This was ALL. HIS. FAULT.

You came back to him with an ultimatum.

“It’s this or the doctor said I had to drag your ass to hospital.”

“Nooooooo.” The 25 year old seemed to convert into a whiny three year old again.

“Those are the two options. So will you PLEASE quit complaining and get in the bath.”

Keeping up the toddler persona, Tom huffed but reluctantly nodded in agreement - you had come up trumps. It didn’t stop him yelping when you helped to lower him in. His breath was shaky, as a response to the ‘cold’, but he was firming it. At least when you felt his forehead after a couple of minutes, it certainly seemed as though the fever was starting to ease off .

“You can go if you want.” His voice was murmured and as you looked up at him, he did his very best to avoid your gaze.

“Not a chance, if you drown on my watch, Nikki will never forgive me.” At the very least he seemed to appreciate your joke, scoffing a little with a small nod. “If you don’t want me here I get it. As soon as Harry’s back, I’ll swap with him.”

“No! It’s not that its… I’m just an ass when I’m ill.”

“A self aware ass, though.” Again he chuckled a little, as you folded your arms on the edge of the porcelain tub, resting your head lying to one side. “You had me pretty scared there for a moment, you know?”

He nodded a little, creating a wave of ripples in the water which you watched to avoid his gaze - which you knew was tracing all your features inquisitively.

“Hey it’s in the job description, always a bit dramatic... I’m sorry though I should never of called you- don’t know why I didn’t just get Harry.” In response you tutted, taking a moment to lean up and push his sweaty curls back a bit.

Just because you could, it was allowed in this moment.

“’m glad you did.”

“Yeh me too” He sighed, eyes fluttering shut in the easy silence of the bathroom. You kept a vigilant eye on him for the next 20 minutes, checking the temperature of his forehead using the back of your hand, whilst he seemed to finally get a bit of proper restbite, appearing like the worst had passed. You had no idea what was taking Harry so long; in fact it was the doctor that arrived first- who you ran to let in (not wanting to leave Tom asleep in the bath one bit).

Whilst the doctor did all his checks, taking his temperature properly this time, satisfied that it was much more manageable. He still wanted to set him up with some oral rehydration rescue packs to get his hydration status a bit better and give some anti-sickness tablets and antipyretics.

Having actually been getting some rest before all the prodding and poking, Tom was back to being a grumbling dick - now not wanting to leave the bath (the irony was real - making you roll your eyes). Once again, he appeared embarrassed to have you see him like this, so you left the doctor to help him get out and changed- instead going down to reception to get a fresh set of sheets, as he’d done a pretty impressive job of sweating through the old ones.

Even if tired and grumpy, when Tom exited the bathroom, he looked much better - he was walking himself without the doctor’s help. Which honestly was such a relief because when he had passed out on you, you genuinely were terrified. Thankfully the doctor stayed for the next 20 or so minutes, which was just when Harry returned with a bag of medications - which were now wholly redundant, given the doctor had already supplied everything.

“What happened?” Harry asked you in a hushed voice, whilst Tom was distracted with getting his medications. Recounting the story of Tom pretty much passing out, Harry grimaced for you, then launching over to give you a tight hug.

“Are you okay?” That was a novel idea, you hadn’t really thought about yourself at all - but honestly, you were a bit shaken, having been running on adrenalin for most of the night.

“I-uhm… yeh I think so… just-just was a bit scared, I guess? Felt bad too because he didn’t want me there but-“

“I can promise you Y/n, he did want you there. Just probably embarrassed he wasn’t all manly and that…” With a nod, you smiled softly at the frizzy-haired boy.

Whilst working with Tom, it also meant getting pretty close to his younger brother. The two Hollands were almost attached at the hip, which you were very much okay with.

It was weird though... your relationships were completely different. Harry was just your brother, through and through. He wound you up like a sibling but also knew you as if he had your whole life. With Tom… it wasn’t that. Arguably, you were closer to Tom, but on a different level. It was more exciting, more nerve-wracking and heartwarming all at the same time. Honestly, you couldn’t get your head around it properly.

“Hey, you’re probably shattered. Why don’t you go back to your room and get some sleep? I got it in here.” You knew Hary was trying to offer something nice, and now all the excitement had worn off, you were unbelievably shattered. But you didn’t like the idea of not being there, as a just in case.

“Uhm, I think I might just stay, you know?” And he did, with a deliberate, knowing smile, he nodded.

He knew you were worried. He knew Tom had really really scared you. He also knew how much you cared about his brother.

Just like how Harry knew Tom wanted you there, even if he felt embarrassed. Well, anyone would- when you are passing out half-naked in front of the one person that really matters.

It was just at this point that the doctor was done, giving Harry instructions about the rest of the day, when you made a beeline for the bed. Tom was propped up against the headboard, still with a pale sullen look and tired eyes, but a bit less clammy and more human. He cracked a smile as you crawled up onto the other side of the bed, kneeling next to him.

“How’re you doin’?”

“All drugged up, just feel fucking exhausted.” Instinctively you reached up to feel his forehead, really appreciating the fact it felt almost normal.

“Join the club mate, I had a 5am wake up call too.” You almost whispered, intending to make Tom laugh, but instead only getting a pout.

“I am sorry, a-are you going to go back to your room?”

“Nah” Tom’s eyes didn’t light up, except the fact that they very much did. “Can’t trust you not to get into trouble while I’m gone Holland.”

“Thanks.” He laughed weakly before shimmying down on the bed, so he was much more comfortable. “And thankyou, I-I’m sorry I’m a dickhead and made your life-“

“Shut up Tom!” Laughing, you lightly slapped his arm, also leaning down on the bed, so you were lying facing him. “You’re all feverish; go to sleep before you say something stupid.”

There was a long pause, Tom just gazing deep into your eyes, because he was pretty sure what he was thinking was nothing to do with the dodgy unidentified meat he’d had the evening before.

“What... like asking you out?”

…..

“Maybe that wouldn’t be so stupid.”

~~~~im really not sure how I feel about this one, let me know what you thought ;) ~~~~

tagging: @lovehollandy12 @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter@hollandfanficlove

[drama--universe]

Breaking the rules

Requested by anonymous: Hello! Can do a scenario of Lan Xichen and his wife (the reader) where they find out they’re having a child and takes care of her. He becomes very protective because she sometimes “forgets” about being pregnant. He once saw her go up to the roof to retrieve little Lan Sizhui’s kite. One day she convinces LXC to let her go down the mountain to visit her parents. During the journey she and some disciples are attacked by the a mysterious masked clan. She is captured and they want information about the Yin Iron and the Stygian Amulet. She doesn't say anything so they lock her in a room. LXC gets the news and goes to rescue his wife and his unborn child. Can you add a happy and funny ending where the day she gives birth she breaks almost all the rules and at the end she and Xichen find out they have twins, a son and a daughter?

Warnings: gore, swearing, time skips near the end

Word Count: 1403 words

A/N Sorry for the late update, I meant to do this earlier but a lot of stuff suddenly happened all at once and I basically had the shittiest few days in my life. Anyway I found the Lan rules online and can I just say, no pregnant woman can survive there I think. You can't even be picky about food, like what? Also, Lan Zhan has broken a lot of these rules 😂

You skipped through the halls of the building, smiling at the disciplines that passed you. After receiving the news that you were probably a few months pregnant, the baby bump slightly visible. You were still extremely happy even though it was announced a week ago. Lan Xichen on the other hand was more worried than happy when he first found out. Why? Because you had a tendency to forget a lot and you got into a lot of reckless situation. So yeah, he had a good reason to be worried. Maybe now was the best time to prove that.

You were staring at the kite up on the roof, thinking of a way to get it. And then you decided to just climb the tree next to the roof and then climb on the roof. So you started climbing, grabbing tree branches to haul yourself up.

"(y/n)?!" Someone called loudly and you looked behind you to see your husband staring at you in horror. You smiled, but he wasn't fazed by your smile.

"Please get down, darling." He spoke and you frowned. "Why? I'm fine!" You smiled again before continuing to climb up. You reached the roof and climbed up on the roof, grabbing the kite and holding it before reaching back for the tree to climb down. Then you slipped and your body fell down only to be catched by Xichen.

"Thanks, hubby!" You exclaimed before jumping out of his arms and waddling to Sizhui and crouching down.

"Here you go sweetie." You said and he smiled brightly, hugging you. "Thanks, auntie!" He exclaimed before running off, probably towards Jingyi. You stood back up, smiling brightly before turning towards Xichen again, who looked rather disappointed.

"That was cool, right?" You said and he rolled his eyes at your behavior. You frowned, holding his face into your hands to make him look at you.

"What's wrong?" "You're pregnant, you're not supposed to do this stuff anymore. You weren't supposed to do them before either, but now that you're pregnant you certainly can't." He explained and you whined, pouting at him.

"Please?" He begged and you scrunched your nose before nodding.

"I'll pay attention to it, I promise." You promised before kissing him shortly and then running off.

A month later you went down the mountain with some guards to visit your parents. Lan Xichen would normally join, but he had duties to take care off and you didn't want him to drop everything for you. You were walking down, smiling at all the different that had bloomed in the past time. Then you got jumped, your mouth covered as you tried to scream before a blunt object hit your head, making the world around you go black.

Next thing you knew, you woke up in a dark place, most likely underground. One candle was lit in front of you, making the place somewhat visible. You groaned, trying to move only to find your hands stuck on the arms of the chair.

"My God..." You hissed before trying to untie the ropes that bound your wrist until light poured into the room, followed by a man dressed in black. He wore a black cat like mask to hide his face, but it didn't hide the large burn that covered the right side of his face and neck.

"Can I help you?" You spoke and he scoffed, picking something up from a table in the corner just out of your sight. When he came closer, the glint of a knife came into sight and your eyes widened slightly.

"Hey, hey, hey, no need for that!" You exclaimed, pushing yourself back a bit before stopping when he reached you. He grabbed the back of the chair and leaned you back before placing the knife on your throat.

"Now you're going to tell me all you know about the Yin Iron and the Stygian Amulet, now." He hissed, pushing the blade harder against your throat and blood trickled down, staining your clothes.

"I-I don't know!" "Don't lie!" He said and you yelped as he pulled the knife away, slicing part of your skin open and letting more blood gush out.

"I really don't know!" You exclaimed and he groaned, turning away from you for a second before turning back around, and lunging the knife into your left hand. You let out a scream, lunging forward in pain and trying to get away. Your hand burned in pain as he pulled the knife back out.

"Fuck, that hurts!" You exclaimed and the man chuckled.

"Then tell the truth." He hissed once again and you screamed once again when you were stabbed in your leg before his fist connected with your jaw. Your head fell to the side as you hissed in pain again. And this repeated countless of times until you passed out once again, surrounded by a pool of blood.

The next time you woke up, it was by the loud yelling and crashes. You whined, your head rolling back before you opened your eyes, staring at the door that had opened slightly and made light stream into the room. Along the loud yelling, you could also hear the clanking of swords against each other. Not having the energy to shout for help, you just sat there and hoped that someone would come in. The lack of blood and the dehydration made you fuzzy and dizzy, little stars floating in front of your eyes.

Then the door opened, revealing someone dressed in blue and whites. They yelled something, but you didn't hear as your ears started to ring as black dots started to appear again. Then someone else entered and once closer, you recognized him as Xichen. He looked worried as he untied you from the chair before lifting you up bride-style. You were sure that his clothes would stain with blood, but leaned closer against him nonetheless. How closer to him, how safer you felt. Although you didn't sleep on the way there, it felt like a second before you were laid in bed.

"(y/n)?" Xichen spoke and you hummed as your hand was grabbed by his bigger and much warmer one. You could feel something being wrapped around your wounds and sighed in pain.

"They wanted to know about the Yin Iron..." You mumbled as Xichen tried to shush you. "Focus on your wounds first, we can talk about the rest after you get better."

And so you were on bed rest for at least 3 weeks and only one had past. Your wounds had pretty much healed, the doctor had already confirmed that your pregnancy should be fine unless something dramatic would suddenly happen. And surprisingly Lan Xichen stayed with you most of the time. He did work, but most of the time he would be in the same room as you whether next to you or at his work table, which was a few meter away from the bed. You focused on him, drawing his figure (how could you not, the man was an angelic being) or reading to spend time.

A few months later, you were going into labor. Now over the past months, you had already broken several rules (which were excused because of your pregnancy) but now you had broken at least 10 more.

Causing noise? Check, you were screaming on top of your lungs. Vulgare language? Check, you were cursing like a sailor. Slander? Check, you were cursing Lan Xichen as well. And of course you weren't paying attention to the rules, which was breaking a rule as well. Yeah, if it wasn't for your pregnancy, you would've been thrown out already.

Now, you had already been in labor for 3 hours and you were still going. Lan Xichen was trying to calm you down, which only got him curse words in return. And then you were finished, 2 hours later, and you now held one of the two beautiful babies. Lan Xichen held the girl, staring at her with a small smile. You held the boy in your arms, smiling brightly.

"How about Lan Min (girl) and Lan Zhixin (boy)?" "I like it." You whispered, your voice hurting slightly (definitely not from the screaming), and you looked at Xichen before shuffling a bit to the side.

"Let me see her as well." You commented and he sat next to you. You looked at the girl, your smile widening before you kissed Xichen cheek and laid your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes and sighed.

"Never again, understood?"

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 3

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello's masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 3497 (oops 🙈)

Additional note: what you’re going to read is not realistic.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

With his stomach in knots and a frown on his face, Ivar watches closely his godfather, who enters the living-room, wheeling a large trolley case behind him.

"Hello, Ivar." Floki looks around, an eyebrow raised questioningly, "Lagertha isn't here?", before flopping down on the corner sofa.

"No," Ivar shakes his head, wheeling up next to him, "She's out on a date with this English guy... Hammond, Halmund or whatever his name is."

Scratching his ear, Floki tilts his head, "but she knows you're going, right?" He pulls the trolley case closer and then snorts, mumbling under his breath, "don't think I can't see you rolling your eyes!"

"What do you think? Of course, she knows. She said, and I quote," Ivar raises his hands to make air quotes, his voice tinged with obvious annoyance, "'Of course you can go, sweetie, you know I don't want to be the one holding you back. Call me if anything goes wrong. And don't forget to take your meds.'"

"She cares, Ivar." Floki's tone is soft as he places a hand on his godson's shoulder.

Ivar lowers his gaze. "You should have taken me in." His words are barely audible and suddenly he feels like he's eleven again and he has to swallow against the sudden dryness in his throat.

"You do know that back then I wasn't in a good place." Floki's sad sigh almost gets Ivar in tears as memories of his parents and Helga flood his mind. The pain in his heart becomes nearly unbearable but he fights it off with all his might. He never wants to feel broken and lost again.

Ivar lifts his head up and Floki can see the stubbornness in his eyes. "I could live with you now."

"No, you could not, and you know it!" Floki smiles and taps Ivar on the cheek. "Ivar, I live between two flights, today in Norway, yesterday in Iceland and after-tomorrow in Canada. What kind of life would this be for you, huh? And besides, living with Lagertha is not that bad."

But living with Sigurd is! Ivar wants to shout. He keeps quiet, though, shrugging before eventually mumbling. "Guess not..."

"So," Floki starts, eager to change the subject, "where are your brothers, by the way?"

"Where do you think they are, huh, you knock-kneed fool? They're already there." Ivar glances at his watch, furrowing his brow. "Harald's party started twenty minutes ago."

"We better hurry up, then!" Crouching down, Floki slowly opens the suitcase under Ivar's scrutinizing gaze.

"Quick!" Ivar commands, barely able to contain his impatience, his nervous fingers tapping his push rims. "What do you have for me, old man, huh?" He even contemplates climbing out of his chair to open it himself, but the fear of breaking a bone at the worst possible time is stronger than his eagerness.

"You're going to calm down, young Padawan." Floki quips, slowly moving his hand in front of Ivar with eyes full of mischief. Ivar immediately slaps his godfather's hand away, mumbling under his breath, "I'd rather be a Sith Lord." That earns him a loud, hysterical laugh from his godfather.

Ivar grunts, ready to protest, but all thoughts leave his mind as soon as he's able to see what is in the trolley case. The scowl on his face obvious, he doesn't even try to hide his disappointment as he utters, "you made me braces?"

He hates braces with a passion. Along with underarm crutches, he had some, as a child. They were bulky, stiff, painful and walking with them was tedious, agonizingly slow, and exhausting. Ragnar had been adamant that he wanted his youngest to walk, no matter the struggles, no matter the nearly unbearable pain. Ivar had settled his ass in a wheelchair the day of his father's funeral, getting rid of his braces shortly after, a decision he had never regretted. So no, such torture devices were not at all what he was hoping for.

"Have a little faith in me," Floki rolls his eyes. "These," he looks lovingly at the strange contraptions in his hands, "are not braces, Ivar. Have you and your crippled ass ever heard of exoskeleton?"

Ivar's eyes widen. "It's that thing used in rehab that allows paraplegics to walk, right?" As Floki nods, Ivar gives him a puzzled glance. "But, erm, you do know I don't have a spinal cord injury, don't you? Or are you suffering from memory loss? Maybe it's your age?"

Dismissing the remark with an exasperated wave of his hand, Floki hisses, "I'm well aware that you don't, godson dearest," before narrowing his eyes, his voice now serious, "you may have full sensation in both legs, yet they can't exactly support your weight and your lack of motor function can't be denied. Not really different from some paraplegic dudes, what do you think?"

Feeling a heavy lump in his throat, Ivar frowns, not pleased with the idea of him being like a paraplegic. Almost without thinking, he contracts his quads as best he can, as if he wants to make sure he's still able to do it.

Floki doesn't miss the barely-there movements in his thighs, though, and his voice softens. "Look Ivar, you're not a paraplegic, okay? But I used the exoskeleton technology. And since you're not paralyzed, I was able to make a smaller device that you can wear underneath your clothes, and you're going to walk. I mean, really walk, not just like those guys in rehab, between parallels bars and with a PT right behind them."

Ivar, his eyes bright, stares at his godfather, slack-jawed with amazement. "I'm..." He begins to sputter, voice filled with emotion, "I'm really going to walk?" Feeling like his heart is pounding out of his chest, he fails to contain his excitement, drumming the fingers of his right hand on his lap. He'd tap his feet if only he could.

"You are." Floki nods before taking out of the trolley case a pair of dress shoes. "I put dozens of sensors in the insole of these shoes, which will enable the exoskeleton to correct your stance practically every second. Therefore, you won't need crutches, although I would say it's safer for you to use this." Reaching down, he grabs a black derby-style cane, simple and sleek in design. "You know," he shrugs, "just for extra support. Better safe than sorry, hmh?"

Ivar, who doesn't even flinch when he sees the walking stick, just reaches out, his hand grazing the carbon fiber exoskeleton. "Is it really for me?" His eyes filled with wonder, his voice trembling, his lips stretch across his face as his godfather nods. "And you made this in what?... four, five days?"

Letting out his signature giggle, Floki waggles his fingers in front of his face. "Even I couldn't make this in such a short time. No, the truth is, I've been working on it for a while. Let's say your phone call just sped things up. Though I must say, this marvel of technology is not flawless... It has a really low battery life, like four hours of autonomy at best. If I had more time, I certainly could have done better, but for now, it is what it is and you'll have to make do with what you've got." Pursing his lips, he glances at his watch, "So, just so you know, if you put this on now, you'll have to come back around midnight if you don't want to have to crawl around. And if you hear a beep, you'd better hurry, okay?"

As Ivar just nods, his beaming smile never fading, Floki adds, tilting his head, "and now, go get ready, young Padawan, you have a party to attend!"

***

Sitting on a bench at the seaside, Ivar watches the party from afar, a feeling of uneasiness tightening his chest. It was a mistake. Attending to this party was a mistake. Despite the exoskeleton, despite the fact that he walks almost normally, it was a mistake. He shouldn't have come. He shouldn't be here. Anxiety surges like the swell of a wave, and he struggles to breathe. Sigurd was right: he doesn't belong here, doesn't belong to this life.

A part of him wants to leave. It would be better to run away, to go hide in his room. But he won't. He can't. Because just a moment ago he saw you. Because he's not ready to give up on you now that he is here, eventually close to you.

He recognized you the moment his eyes fell on you. Looking radiant in a polka dot dress, you're as pretty as he remembers. Pretty? Who's he kidding? The girl you were six years ago was pretty. You're a woman now, and one of the most beautiful he's ever seen.

Glowing, smiling at everyone, you didn't even see him. In his head, of course, he makes plans to approach you, even if deep down, he knows all too well he'll never muster enough courage to talk to you. You probably wouldn't want him to anyway. After all, he may be standing tall today, yet he's still a freak, a fucking cripple. He's still cursed with his bony, twisted, useless legs. He's still a burden.

Yet, there's this little voice inside of him, barely audible, whispering that you're not like this, that you never were in the first place; and that's partly why the ten-year-old boy he was when he first met you felt drawn to you almost instantly.

Closing his eyes, he focuses on his breathing and decides to take a little trip down memory lane, bringing him back to that sunny, summer day of his first – and only – encounter with you. His memory so vivid it's like it happened only yesterday.

He can't hear the chirping of birds as his brothers are loudly playing and bickering in the pool. His beloved mother is nowhere to be seen and he's willing to bet she's taking a nap, but not without first making sure he has everything he could possibly need. Lying on a sunbed in the shade of an oak, a glass of lemonade within reach and a thick book on his lap, he hardly notices his father coming into the backyard, Harald Hårfager following close behind.

Since Ivar knows Harald is here to talk business with his father, he pays no attention to the two men, who take their seats at the patio dining table.

He nearly falls off the sunbed when a tiny voice startles him. "Hello!"

Stunned, he turns his head towards the voice and comes face to face with a smiling girl he doesn't know. You. He'd say you're about his age.

"I'm Y/N," you tell him, waving your hand shyly. "I'm at my uncle's for the weekend," you keep going, pointing your finger at Harald, "and I was wondering... May I join you?" You finally ask, dragging a second sunbed closer to his.

His first instinct is to look around, because you can't possibly be talking to him. Why would you? Surely you can't have failed to spot his leg braces, nor his hideous orthopedic shoes. You can't have missed that he's a cripple.

Frowning as he sees that no one is around, he snorts, his nostrils flaring. He can tell you're wearing a swimsuit under your pink dress. What do you want, then? Are you here to mock and ridicule him or what?

"You better get in the pool with my brothers." He knows he sounds rude, not answering nor greeting you, but he doesn't care. He doesn't want to be made fun of and doesn't intend to give you the chance to do it.

Seemingly undeterred, you speak with a soft voice. "No, I'd rather not." Your smile is so genuine he can't help but think you mean no harm. "Actually," you shrug, sitting next to him, "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind. What are you reading?"

Gobsmacked, he just looks at you – and gods, how pretty you are! – for a long time, unable to utter a single word. Are you truly interested in what he's reading? Interested in him? He swallows hard, his heart racing. A small smile dancing on your lips, your kind eyes never leave his as you wait, full of hope, for him to finally talk to you.

And that's what he ends up doing, almost in spite of himself. For the next two hours, he shows you his astronomy book, a gift from his godfather for his tenth birthday, and tells you about the stars, the constellations and the nights he spends watching the sky, when his mother allows him to. And for two hours you listen to him, asking a question here or there and always smiling. He's pretty sure you're not faking being interested in what he's saying.

All too soon, your uncle tells you it's time to go and you stand up with a scowl, letting out a sigh of regret. The next moment, you flash Ivar a grin. "I had a really great time with you, thanks! I'm going back to my mom's tomorrow but I hope we can spend time together again sometime, maybe next summer. I'd love to stargaze with you, you know?" With that, you lean forward and as your lips touch his cheek, Ivar's breath catches in his throat, his heart pounding like a drum in his chest.

Ivar inhales deeply. That kiss... That's when he fell madly and hopelessly in love with you. If he concentrates enough, he can still feel the softness of your lips against his skin, still smell your sweet, flowery scent.

That day, he had watched you leave with a smile on your face, already dreaming of the day he would see you again. You had said "next summer" and even though it was a long time away, he was willing to wait. In the meantime, he would have plenty of memories to recall - your joyful voice, your sparkling eyes, your lovely smile... Sure, he could wait.

And he had waited, hopeful and happier than he had been in a long time.

Not long after, however, his life had been turned upside down, his father being murdered and his mother dying in a car crash. Lost, angry, broken, and infinitely sad, he had gone through the following months as if anesthetized - barely living, hardly functioning, sometimes feeling as if the memory of you was the only thing keeping him from drowning.

Yet, and he doesn't know why – or perhaps simply because Ragnar being dead, Harald had no reason to visit anymore – he had never seen you again.

"Hello!"

His whole body freezes and he stops breathing. This voice... Your voice... He'd know it anywhere. Yet, it can't be, right? Did he fall asleep? Is he dreaming? Is one of his brothers tricking him? Why would you talk to the cripple?

"My name is Y/N." He can hear the smile in your voice. "I was wondering... May I join you?"

Summoning the courage he's not sure he has, Ivar looks tentatively toward you.

Gods! You're even more beautiful up close. Fuck. Now that you're here, right next to him, he doesn't know what to say, what to do. Panic seizes his hammering heart as a lump rises in his throat. He attempts to swallow around it to speak, to say something, anything, but the words won't come out and he finally just nods, his hand gesturing to the bench for you to sit on.

"Thanks," you give him a broad smile before taking your seat.

Ivar cannot believe his eyes. What are you doing? Did you recognize him? Why are you here, with him?

"Woul–", he sputters, struggling to find his voice, "Wouldn't you rather be there?" Pointing his index finger at the crowd gathered in front of the makeshift stage just a few meters away. He frowns, tilting his head, "the party is in full swing."

"No, I'd rather not." You shrug and as you turn your head toward him, he breathes in your sweet scent, suddenly feeling dizzy. "The guys are already drunk and really have one thing on their minds. And those who are not are boring." You lower your gaze, as if embarrassed, and it's so adorable Ivar feels like his heart is melting. "I'd rather stay here with you, if you don't mind."

Oh, he doesn't. He doesn't mind at all. The truth is, there's a fucking firework inside of him, and he barely contains the screams of happiness that threaten to escape his lips. "That's okay, you can stay," he says instead, his fidgeting fingers dancing on his lap.

Over the next hour or so, the conversation flows easily as you speak about Karasjok, the small town where you live, telling him about your mother's people, the Sami, their culture and customs.

Ivar shares with you bits and pieces of his life too, speaking about his passion for the Viking culture and about his belief in the ancient gods. The night, his night, is full of your laughs, full of your smiles, full of you. He wants it to never end.

He's still trying to figure out if you know who he is, if you remember meeting him once when you rise to your feet, almost bouncing with enthusiasm. "Walk with me, will you?"

He's about to break the truth about his inability to walk when he remembers that actually, thanks to Floki, he can. His eyes never leave yours as he grabs his cane with a little bit of self-consciousness, wincing as he stands up, but he can't see disgust, contempt, or disappointment on your face and your smile doesn't falter as you delicately slip your hand under his free arm, curling your fingers back over it. Shaken by your sudden proximity, Ivar feels goosebumps rising on his skin.

"It's such a lovely night and I'm so happy spending it with you."

Your words leave him speechless as you lead him close to the water. A bunch of guys can be seen in the distance and Ivar is pretty sure his brothers are among them. He can feel their heavy stares on him and doesn't need to hear them to know what they're saying. "Who's this dude? Do we know him?" Standing tall, with his braided hair and a blue suit, he knows he doesn't look like himself. Yet, as he locks eyes with Hvitserk for a second, he'd sworn he sees a hint of recognition crossing his brother's face. And as the latter gives him a thumbs up, he knows his mind is not playing tricks with him.

"Oh, I love this song!" You clap your hands twice before shrugging shyly. "Let's dance, please!"

Ivar's heart breaks. Scared out of his wits, he swallows hard, his breathing uneven. "I... I can't." It's a painful admission, and he wishes the ground would just swallow him up.

He realizes you pay no mind to his defeated tone, though, as you grab his cane, leaning it against a nearby tree. "We'll go slow, I promise."

Almost in spite of himself, he places his hands on your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. Gently – cautiously – swaying to the music, Ivar leans in close and, inhaling deeply your delightful scent, he feels like he's going to spontaneously combust. Your head resting on his chest, he's sure you can hear his frantic, pounding heartbeat. But he can't bring himself to care, not when you're finally exactly where he wants you to be. In his arms.

That's why he doesn't hear the first beep, or if he does, he doesn't pay any attention, entranced by your beauty, your kindness and the mesmerizing color of your eyes.

But when you stop dancing, your eyebrows raised, "What's that beeping noise? It doesn't stop," he hears it too, cold sweats washing over him as panic courses through his body.

"I... I must... I must go," he stammers, and honestly he's about to throw up. He can't think, can't speak. All he knows is that he doesn't want you seeing him crawling around. He won't allow it. He can't.

Fuck.

That's why he leaves. He just strolls off. He doesn't see the appalled look you're giving him, doesn’t' realize he's leaving his black cane behind, doesn't hear the despair in your tone as you shout, "wait, please! I don't even know your name!"

He has only taken a few steps when crocodile tears run down his cheeks, blurring his sight. It hurts so much he could scream, and he can barely breathe as the realization starts to sink in. Who was he trying to fool? Sigurd had been right all along. No matter the exoskeleton, no matter the genius of his godfather, he's still a freak. A monster. An abnormality.

He doesn't belong. He's not worthy.

Fuck.

His heart shatters in a thousand pieces.

Fuck.

Y/N.

Fuck.

🛡⚔️🛡

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