#hope i got his handwriting right im going off memory

[shittyjakeenglish]

polish jake! (i know where you live)

Day 48

and thats enough poland methinks

[just-call-mefr1es]

guess who made yet ANOTHER tbp au🦅🦅🦅

🥁🥁🥁🥁NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM (BECAUSE I GOT TO REWSTCH THE FIRST TMOVIE WT MY FRIEND’S BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY AND IM SLOWLY RECOVERING MY OLD MEMORIES OF THE MOVIES💗💗)

so, first off, theyre all miniatures. all of them. why? why the fuck not!! vance is tsking the place of jedediah so hes a cowboy🤠🤠 and bruce’ll be octavius 🏛️🏛️roman go brrrr

i cant stop making aus fkr brance im so sorry,, so like they have their lil rivalry thing and 🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽🫶🏽 i love brance having a lil rivalry before theyre gay okay

then, for the rest, i just sorta divided them, so vance, griff, n robin r all cowboying leaving billy n finney over with bruce with the romans. i was thinking since octavius was like general or something (IM SO SORRY IF THAT’S WRING ILL DO MY RESEARCH LATER DJDNND) ill make finney his right hand man, why? because its an au and i can do whatever i want💥💥

i was thinking of making donna the nightguard but im not 💯💯 on it. hell, im not even sure if i wanna actually make stuff happen or just make it for shits and giggles, but at the same time, i kinda need the stuff to happen otherwise the romans n cowboys can’t make peace and shit so💔💔 oh well ill figure something out.

and knowing me, i obviously already made art (i drew most of them in school and i wasn’t sure on designs until now but they’re still under the same idea djsnsmsm)

why every time i try to post traditional art it looks so crusty compared to what it looks like irl😭😭💀💀 i hope yall can read my handwriting💞

(i have not drawn robin nor finney in a millennial and im still not 100% on their designs, so you’ll see more of em when i get ahold od myself lmao)

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I Can’t Say Anything to Your Face

Summary: Lunchtime is Spencer Reid’s favorite time of day and not because of the crappy endless coffee, dry sandwiches, or the occasional chocolate donut. Spencer’s favorite time of day comes in the shape of a little post it notes and fits perfectly into his heart.

Pairing: Spencer x Female Reader

Content: Fluff (1 use of a$$)

Author’s Note: The idea of for this came from @shemarmooresfedora for giving Spencer compliment cards

Word Count: 2.6 K

I Can't Say Anything To Your Face

When Spencer checks his watch for the twelfth time that day, he can practically feel Derek’s eyes roll. He tries to cover up his action by picking at his sleeve, but that just seems to draw attention to the situation. Derek raises his eyebrows at Spencer, as if to tell him, I saw that.

When it comes to teasing Spencer, Derek doesn’t miss a beat.

The team, minus Derek and Spencer, continue to work diligently. JJ walks back and forth from her office to Hotch’s, constantly shuffling through piles and piles of paperwork. Emily seems to keep herself busy with the 33 tabs that she has open on her screen. Y/N, who’s tongue slips out of her teeth in concentration, doesn’t look up from her mound of case files. Spencer likes studying how each of the members of his team works, but he particularly likes to watch Y/N. She always sticks her tongue out when she’s deep in thought. Sometimes she’ll close her eyes and rub the butt of her palm against them. Other times she’ll push her glasses up on top of her head and her hair frames her face perfectly. Spencer couldn’t care less what she looked like or how she wore her hair, but watching her was his favorite part of the day.

In a totally platonic, non-creepy way.

A beep distracts Spencer from being distracted by Y/N. It’s an IM from Derek, telling him something to the effect of asking Y/N out. Instead of responding, Spencer decides to send Derek a more direct message. He shuts off his computer, which isn’t really used, besides for Y/N to send Spencer requests for online scrabble.

Spencer, ignoring Derek’s gloating, walks from the bullpen into the team’s lunch room. It’s a small kitchenette with a couple tables, a very old coffee machine, and an even older refrigerator. Peeking into the refrigerator, Spencer takes out two lunch boxes. One is light green with patterned purple and orange dinosaurs all over and the other is a light blue with green plants. Like clockwork, Y/N rounds the corner with a smile plastered to her face.

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Spencer asks, placing his lunch box down across from Y/N’s seat.

“It’s just my favorite time of day,” Y/N responds, unzipping her bag and taking out her banana, water bottle, granola, and turkey sandwich.

Spencer tries to hold back his smile at Y/N saying that lunch is her favorite time of day. He likes to believe that it’s because of him and not because of the top tier kitchen facility the government provides for them. But who’s he kidding, there’s no way that lunch is Y/N favorite part of the day because of Spencer when he’s up against a crappy coffee maker.

“Did you know that sandwiches were only called sandwiches because the Earl of Sandwich ate his meals with bread, meat and cheese like modern day sandwiches? However, there’s much debate if sandwiches existed prior to this. Researchers actually believe that sandwiches were simply referred to as bread and meat or bread cheese, depending on the ingredients. There’s hundreds of works of literature that help to determine this,” Spencer says, as he unwraps his leftovers from dinner the previous night.

Y/N, who takes a bite of her turkey sandwich, listens intently to Spencer’s oral history of sandwiches. She starts to respond to Spencer, but before she can even get the chance, Derek interjects into the conversation.

“Hold your horses, there Reid,” Derek says, his voice tainted with sarcasm and Spencer braces himself for a clipping comment, “you don’t want to scare away the newbie,”

Y/N, ever quick witted, rolls her eyes dramatically at Derek. She gets up and moves her seat closer to Spencer who’s heart rate, at the thought of her sitting even closer to him, speeds up. He knows that it's just an effort to tease Derek. That she'd rather suffer next to Spencer, than to have to entertain the idea of sitting next to Derek. But still, Spencer is a dreamer; he'd like to think she'd sit next to him even without the added bonus at avoiding Derek's playful teasing.

“Derek, leave Spencer alone, I happen to adore his facts. You know, I’ve seen I’ve been here I’ve been a Jeopardy beast. And when are you going to realize that I’m not a newbie, I’ve been here for what 2 years-”

“2 years, 4 months, and 4 days,” Spencer says, cursing himself silently for interrupting Y/N.

Derek grabs his lunch from the refrigerator, and sits down across from Spencer and Y/N.

“You remember the day I started?” Y/N asks, turning her attention from Derek to Spencer, whose face is twisted in what he can only assume is an extremely unattractive deer-in-head-lights look. He shrugs off Y/N’s comment, as if to say it’s just normal for him.

"Of course I do, I remember how long each of us has been here,"

"Oh, right. Eidetic Memory," Y/N mumbles, almost like she's slightly disappointed in something.

Suddenly Spencer’s mouth is quite dry; he reaches into his lunch bag to grab his water bottle, but his fingers brush across a small card taped to the outside. Forgetting that showing the card to Morgan would give him enough ammunition for the rest of day, Spencer quickly scans the card. It’s a small piece of paper, but it suddenly has become Spencer’s most treasured object. More than the set of Chaucer tales that his mother gave him, or Gideon’s watch, or his first microscope that his biology teacher in high school gave him at his graduation.

The one side of the card is decorated in small hearts and there’s a sketch of a dinosaur on the other side. In careful handwriting, the giver of the card wrote “Are you made of Nickel, Cerium, Arsenic, and Sulfur? Because you got a NiCe AsS!”

Spencer’s eyes grow a couple sizes once his brain registers the meaning of the card. Handling it less than gracefully, he chokes on his water, which catches Derek and Y/N’s attention.

“You okay there, Spence?’ Derek asks, questioning what sent Spencer coughing and choking on water like that.

Spencer, not wanting Y/N or Derek, especially Derek, to read the card, attempts to put it in the front pocket of his lunch box. Unfortunately, Derek catches sight of the card and snatches it out of Spencer’s hand.

“Derek!” Spencer whines.

He can feel his embarrassment deepen as Morgan’s smile grows. Spencer seriously thinks that this is how he’s going to die. His death, being in his line of work, is something that plagues his thoughts from time to time, but any gory hero’s death pales in comparison to Derek Morgan reading Spencer’s love notes about his ass.

“Nice ass? I’m not too sure about this, Reid, but looks like your secret lover likes your ass just as much as your brains,” Derek teases, handing back Spencer his card.

“Those are private,” Spencer says, grateful that Derek’s going to leave him alone, places the card back in it’s temporary resting spot near his driver’s license and photographs of him and Y/N at the arcade.

“Hey man, I was just going to put in that shoe box you have tucked under your desk, you must have hundreds of them by now,” Derek says, taking a bite of his ham and cheese wrap. His eyes dash between Spencer and Y/N, like the pair of them is the most entertaining reality show he could think of.

“I have 645, now,” Spencer says, unable to help himself much to Derek’s amusement. Spencer hears the chair next to him screech and Y/N rushes to pack up her half eaten lunch.

“I completely forgot, Anderson needs me to uh, help him with something,” Y/N says, stuffing her water bottle into her lunch box in a flustered state. Spencer watches as she rushes, her need to leave the kitchenette quite evident. Spencer is left wondering why she has to go see Anderson, of all people.

“Anderson? What does he want with you? I don’t remember Hotch saying anything about that,” Spencer says, his voice comes off a little more bitter than he indented.

“Maybe Anderson has some extracurriculars that he needs Y/N’s help with Spencer,” Derek says with a wink. Spencer’s brow tightens and his blush deepens as if he’s trying to decipher the way that Derek’s voice is laced with suggestion. The only logical conclusion is that Y/N is flustered because she’s sneaking off to see Anderson, because she likes him.

Y/N likes Anderson? Something about that doesn’t taste right in Spencer’s mouth.

Like the wind, Y/N is gone and all that remains is Derek’s sly chuckle.

“What!” Spencer says, much too loud for him to continue the coy and unassuming demeanor he usually produces when Y/N gets hit on at the bar or on case by local cops.

“Nothing, Reid. You're just clueless. Just think about how many of those little compliment cards you’ve gotten,” Derek says. He reaches into Spencer’s lunch box and takes his brownie. Usually, Spencer would have protested, but Derek’s words sent him into a confused spiral.

“645,” Spencer responds.

“Okay,” Derek continues, “645 days you’ve gotten those cute little cards in your lunch box or taped to your hotel room door on cases. Now, Reid think. How many years, months, and days, is 645 days”

“That’s 2 years, 4 months, and 3 days,” Spencer starts, “now given if it’s a Leap Year that could change it a little bit bit-”

“Think about it Reid,” Derek says, talking slowly to get the words sink in and hoping that he doesn’t have to spell it out for him.

“Y/N?” Spencer asks, kind of like he can’t believe it, but desperately wants to believe it at the same time.

“Y/N,” Derek repeats, “I’m surprised it’s taken you this long, Reid. She’s been making eyes at you the day she’s gotten here. It’s almost sickening to watch you to dance around each other,”

“Y/N,” Spencer says, it’s like he’s saying her name for the first time. It’s the most beautiful string of syllables to ever come from his lips.

Spencer pushes back the chair and swings the door open. As he walks to Y/N’s desk he gets distracted by the little brown shoe box that sticks out slightly from under his desk. He crouches down and picks it up, hoping that it can be helpful. He approaches Y/N’s desk, but JJ stops him before he can go closer.

“Stairwell,” Is all she says before she brushes past with an armful of case files. Spencer, heading JJ’s advice, practically runs to the stairwell. As he approaches he can hear quiet sobs, which he can only imagine are Y/N’s.

Spencer opens the door and Y/N, startled, stands up and tries to mop the tears away from her face.

“Spencer, oh god, I didn’t know you were here, I’m okay, it’s just me being a little silly,” she says, trying to laugh through what she can only assume is going to be rejection.

“I really hope you don’t think these are silly, well some are kind of silly, but others were very poetic,” Spencer says, taking a step forward and gesturing with the shoe box to make it obvious to Y/N that he’s talking about the compliment cards.

“What are you talking about, Spencer?” Y/N says, feigning ignorance.

“Don’t play dumb, Y/N. You're much too smart to play dumb,” Spencer says, moving closer to Y/N so he can wipe her tear-stricken face with the sleeve of his soft cardigan. He tries not to focus on the way that Y/N seems to melt into his touch. He knows that if he can get another touch of that, he’ll never want to touch another person ever again.

“I’m not playing dumb, Spence. I just never planned for you to find out,” Y/N mumbles. Spencer’s face resembles a mix between shock and confusion.

“Why would you not tell me, I don’t think I made it anything but obvious that I’m crazy about you,” Spencer says, deeply wondering why Y/N would ever hide something like this from him.

“God Spencer, have you ever looked in a mirror?” Y/N asks him, sitting down on the third step, “you’re so gorgeous, Spencer, I can’t say anything to your face. So the next best thing was to write down everything that I wanted to say to you,” Y/N finishes, a little embarrassed. She tries to hide that embarrassment by not making eye contact with Spencer, who sits down next to her.

“You think I’m gorgeous?” Spencer asks, not entirely sure that he heard her correctly.

Y/N peaks at him with teary eyes and a runny nose. Spencer thanks science and the universe for his Eidetic Memory. He knows that there won’t be a single day of his life that he won’t want to think back to this day and remember the way that Y/N looked when she first told him that she thinks he’s gorgeous.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person that I’ve ever seen,” Y/N says breathily, her voice laced with restraint. She’s terrified of rejection, terrified that Spencer will turn her down still.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard that,” Spencer says, equally as quiet and equally as terrified. He notices that Y/N’s hand creeps closer to his. Spencer is itching to intertwine it to his and never let go.

“You deserve to hear it more often, hence the cards,” Y/N explains, moving her hand even more closer to Spencer’s. He has no choice but to wrap his much larger one in Y/N’s smaller one.

“You meant it, right?” Spencer asks, bravely putting her heart out there on the line, “because if you did Y/N, that I’d really like to kiss you right now. But if you didn’t then that’s-”

Spencer tries to finish the sentence, to give Y/N an out, but somehow she doesn’t take it. Somehow she decides to kiss him.

Spencer has kissed a total of three people in his entire life, but none of them ever mattered again the second he feels Y/N’s lips against his and her hands in his hair. Spencer doesn’t complain when Y/N starts to set the pace. Her lips roam across his face. They venture across his jaw, up closer to his nose and then back down to his lips. Spencer had no clue Y/N can kiss like this. It's a little passionate for a first kiss, but maybe it's just the pent up tension and frustration 2 years in the making finally being let out. He's dreamt of the way that Y/N's pillowy lips would feel when they were finally pressed up against his. Spencer, from the fibers that make him up to the hormones that surge throughout his body, tries to be brave. He places his hands so they rest on Y/N’s neck. He’s not passive, but he’s happy to sit back and let Y/N have her way as she continues her feverish assault on his lips.

Her ministrations are interrupted, however, when the box of cards falls from Spencer’s lap. It seems to remind both of them that they are in the stairwell of the FBI making out like over zealous teenagers for the first time. Y/N lets out a small giggle. Spencer wishes he can write down the feeling it gives him and tuck it away safely in a shoe box.

“I hope you know that those compliments aren’t platonic, Spencer. I really do think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,” Y/N says, her fingers gravitating to the brown curls behind Spencer’s ears. He has the softest, silkiest hair she’s ever felt.

“That’s a good thing, Y/N, because you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met,”

Standing up, Y/N winks and pecks Spencer on the cheek, “I hate to break it to you, darling, but I think I win when it comes compliments,”

--Thank you for reading--

Taglist (Comment & I'll Happily Add You)

@shemarmooresfedora

@april-14-blog

@willowrose99

@calm-and-doctor

@spideygenius

@measure-in-pain

@nomajdetective

[sunatooru]

Emergency request

REQUESTED BY @haikyutiehoe :okay this is going to be a little complicated but this is an emergency request with a emotional/mental/physical breakdown in response to a new semester approaching rapidly (you had a good but difficult semester last time and one class even drove you to mild self harm - no scars - just the act of hurting yourself out of frustration) With the inariaziki team but with sakusa there too (probably comes around to practice). The reader is their manager and comes into their practice and while the boys r huddled up talking strategy against a practice school you come up behind atsumu and land the hardest fucking punch you can (mainly because he can take it and you just needed to hit something) but you start sobbing right after. how do the boys react? they take you to the boardwalk and try to cheer you up but you’re still pretty upset and broken and everyone takes really good care of you and id love to see kita being the one to really comfort you emotionally with genuine sweet words that make you feel almost better than any hug ever could (although all the boys hug you)and they also somehow get bokuto on a ft to talk to you and calm you before the night ends. 💕 plz i know you’ll do this justice. im sorry if it is wordy and long but i just need to bury myself in these boys also can i kindly request it be kinda long and detailed? again i intend to abs bury myself in this and not emerge for years.

~

@haikyutiehoe I hope you like this and are feeling much better, you always have my love xxx

~

Warnings; breakdown crying, biting yourself, pulling your hair and low self worth

~

You stare at your new timetable for the semester. The classes so close to each other, the same classes you had only just managed, assigned at the worst times. The memories off the late nights, missed meals and stressed morning flood your head. Why couldn’t your life just be easy?

And to make it worst, the semester starts in two days. Two days to get yourself organised. Two days to attempt to fix your broken schedule. Two days to breakdown before the stress consumes you again and has you lashing out. And those two days speed by.

You’re scrambling to get the right book open, your handwriting messy as you scribble down the words your teacher is saying. Your grip on your pen tighter than your understanding in the class. You can feel your ears warming up as the teacher starts to close their lecture. You look around and can see everyone else relaxed, nodding and you can’t help but feel left behind. And then the bell rings. You thought it would make you feel better, but you can’t even put your things properly in your bag as the students start to leave the room.

It’s too much for you. You can’t seem to get anything right. Your breathing gets heavy and you need to get the frustration out. So you bring your hand to your mouth and bite down hard on your flesh. The harder you bite, the less you think about your previous tension and more on the pain. You pull away and scrunch your eyes to see clearly at the indents on your skin. Dark teeth marks expressing how you felt. But when you hear footstep approaching, your feel your anxiety increasing again, so you pull at your hair hard. Letting out a aggressive shout before grabbing your stuff and heading for the gym. You cringe at yourself for almost forgetting there was a practice match and you needed to be there, as their manager.

When you walk in, you see the boys huddled together. The coach standing back as Kita explains how everyone has a part to play. And you just don’t know what’s got you so angry. Was it how everyone else seemed relaxed? That they were composed while you couldn’t even follow your schedule?

The urge to hit something strikes and you subconsciously thank god for Atsumu coming into your perspective. He’s taken a (unintentional) hit from you before. So you charge at him. His muscular back in front of you as he squirts some water into his mouth, totally unaware that you’re approaching him. Your arm pulled back, fingers forming a fist and you punch him. You punch him so hard the liquid misses his mouth and he yelps.

“What the fuck!” He yells.

He turns around, tongue ready to call you out and insult you for hitting him, but the shake of your shoulders stops him. The gym goes quiet as you sob uncontrollably. Dropping your knees to the ground and covering your face as you cry. Atsumu looks around helpless, not knowing how to react. So he drops onto his knees and wraps an awkward arms round your frame.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He asks in the softest way, letting you fall into his chest as you continue to sob.

The rest of the team have been watching and abandon their team talk and rush towards you.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“What’s wrong?”

“Did someone do something?”

“Someone get her some water and a clean towel”

They bombard you with questions and hugs. Aran rubbing your back, Osamu using a towel to clean your tears and Suna handing you some water. They wouldn’t want to make things worse.

“Is she okay?” You recognise the voice, forgetting that Itachiyama’s player, Sakusa Kiyoomi, was coming around to practice some shots. The person you were suppose to greet first and help settle in.

Fresh tears spills when you think about how you couldn’t even do your own job.

“Come and bring her out there.” You hear Kita say and you ball into Atsumu’s chest as he carries you. Your feet weakly hitting the ground as they bring you outside.

You can’t even bring yourself to look at their faces. The embarrassment increasing as they just look at you worriedly. The silence would’ve continued if it wasn’t for the captain speaking.

“Please tell us what’s wrong.” He urges politely.

So you tell him. You tell him how class have you stressed out and panicking and how life is just not working out.

“I’m sorry to hear that. But you should know that we think you are amazing. You always help us out. Always check up on us, stay behind and put up any mishaps. I know school can be hard for some and that it can get overwhelming. But, you can get through it. You’re strong, smart and have so much to offer...” he grabs your hand with your bite marks starting to fade.

“..please don’t hurt yourself. We are here, all of us. If you want, I can help tutor you or we can relax some of your duties? If you feel this way again, do not hesitate to speak to me.” He holds your hand and rubs his thumb against your skin.

“It’s okay to cry from the anxiety. We all know you’ll do amazing again this semester and we all just want you to smile again.” He finishes.

“Please?!” Atsumu pleads.

You start to relax, a small smile growing as you nod at them.

Somehow, they made you FaceTime Bokuto, the person who always cheers you up. His voice booming out the speakers as he asks what’s wrong, if you’re okay and then proceeds to say anything to get you to smile. The voice of his own coach scolding him to get off the phone during practice making you laugh.

“Finally.” The boys around you release a sigh, the smile on your face making their worry fade.

For now you were happy, and they’ll be there to pick you up if you ever fall down again.

[serowotonin]

˗ˏˋ 𝗴𝗼𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗻 𝗱𝗮𝘆𝘀 ˎˊ˗

✰ PAIRING ( terushima yuuji x fem!reader ) ✰ WORDCOUNT ( 1.9k ) ✰ GENRE ( ansgt, songfic ) ✰ WARNINGS ( um one swear word, angst, implications of de*th )

all the memories that we make will never change we'll stay drunk, we'll stay tan, let the love remain and I swear that I'll always paint you golden days ♫ panic! at the disco

✰✰ NOTE.. so uH i think this is the first angst thing i wrote that im actually happy with and i know terushima isn’t someone a lot of ppl write for so to the few ppl who see this</3 hope u guys enjoy:”)

“Ughh where is it,” Terushima grumbled to himself as he pulled open drawer after drawer. He had searched all the cabinets, all the tables, and just about every inch of his apartment but has yet to find his phone charger. 

As he closed the second to last drawer on this shelf, which held no phone charger, he pulled out his phone and saw it had 1% battery remaining. Quickly, he unlocked it and went to his contacts. Before he could make a call though, the screen turned black and he was left staring at a faint reflection of himself.

“Damn it,” he cursed under his breath. “She’s gonna get upset again.”

He clutched the now dead phone in one hand and ran the other through his hair, sighing in exhaustion. Today had been tiring enough with work and now he had this to deal with.

There was still one more drawer he hadn’t checked though. So, he lifted his hand out of his hair and pulled it wide open. 

In it sat a small box. 

He knew of its contents the moment he laid eyes on it. He also knew opening it now would only make him feel worse, not to mention, it would definitely delay his plans.

But for some reason, a longing for nostalgia or maybe the person that brought such nostalgia, his arms unconsciously moved to take the box into his hands.

Your words echoed in the back of his mind as he traced his fingers along the edges of the box.

“It’ll be like our little time capsule. For us to open when we’re all old and wrinkly…”

A deep sigh escaped his lips. 

Every rational thought that came into his head begged him not to open it, to put it back, to forget he even found it. 

Instead, his fingers moved to lift the cover and lay it down on the floor beside him.

And there you were... a polaroid of you at least. 

Your lips were curved in a sweet smile inviting him in and breaking his heart all over again. Up until now, he could barely recall what your face looked like when you were happy, truly happy. He could only remember the tears and regret you had on your face towards the end… 

But seeing you like this again, the wideness of your smile, the crinkle of your eyes… you radiated a joy and happiness he had begun to forget in you.

He stared at the picture for a good minute before turning it around to see the familiar strokes of your handwriting.

‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO ME!!’ and under it ‘(first pic taken with the polaroid my baby Yuuji got for me<3)’

“My baby Yuuji,” he whispered.

“Happy birthday to you. Happy birthday to you,” he sang softly into your ear as he held you from behind, swaying gently in tune. 

“Happy birthday dear Y/n.. Happy birthday to you~”

You turned to kiss the blond and he pulled you even closer to him. 

“I love you babe, happy birthday...” 

The tiredness he had felt just moments ago seemed to have fluttered away when he found you again in the polaroids, and a longing burst from the depths as he put the picture down and picked up another one, his hands once again moving on their own will.

This one had the two of you standing together, backs facing the camera. It was taken at a beach when the sun was still high in the sky and the water glistened blue. But it wasn’t the scenery that appealed to him, nor was it the way the sun wrapped around you two in perfect golden light. 

It was how close you were to him. The physical distance between you two was barely existent. Your arms were wrapped around his waist and his were draped over your shoulders. 

‘Sea breeze, cute outfit, sand between my toes, and 1 Terushima Yuuji… Damn was today great.’

How he would give to be that close to you again.

“Ok 3, 2, 1…”

You clung on to him as tight as you could and he smiled, pulling you closer. 

At the sound of the camera click and the hum of the photo being printed, you let go and quickly turned around to thank the woman for taking the picture.

When you did that he felt off; as if a part of his body was just yanked away. It wasn’t an extreme feeling, nor was it painful in any way. It was more just a lingering emptiness that was put to rest a few seconds later when you were back by his side again.

He put his arm back on your shoulder and peered down at the polaroid in your hand. You were staring at the photo patiently waiting for the colors to fade in. And when it finally did, you smiled satisfactorily at it before tucking it away and flashing another smile to the man right next to you.

Terushima closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and tried to clear his mind. It’s been years, he shouldn’t be dwelling on the past like this.

And yet, there was comfort in the pain the memories brought.

When he opened his eyes, they landed on yet another photo of you. And as he has been for a good part of his life, he was drawn to you. Reaching out a hand, he picked it up and let the memories wash over him once more.

After a while, he set it down and picked up another. And another. And another. Each capturing a moment with you he would never get back. 

It’s been years since he’s had to learn to live without you. Truthfully though, he never did learn how. The sun became a little dimmer, the rain a little harder, the breeze a little less refreshing. The world lost its vibrancy when he lost you. He adapted, got used to the dullness, but he couldn’t learn to live the same anymore...

He picked up another polaroid.

This one didn’t have either of your faces on it. It just showed the two of you holding hands against a dark background.

The bottom held no words but instead an arrow pointing to the right. Terushima turned the polaroid and saw a small envelope attached to the back. Curious, he opened it up and pulled out the piece of paper snuggled inside.

‘This one’s a bit longer than any other note I’ve written for a polaroid but… I kinda just realized smth really important. He drove me out at 3AM in the morning to get food because I said I was hungry. Then we sat in his car listening to some old mixtapes he had. They were pretty crappy but it didn’t matter. I love Terushima Yuuji. I’ve said it a million times before but last night it really hit me, hard. I love him in a way I’d never be able to love anyone else. 

I want to go on more dates with him. more stupid dates, more romantic ones, more 3AM dates, more cuddle dates. And even though it might be selfish of me, I want to spend my every breathing minute with him. 

If I can’t have anything else in this then I just want these golden days of ours to last forever..’

And before he realized it, tears were rolling down his cheeks. Fuck it all. He missed you. He missed the days you had together, the nights spent in each others’ arms. He missed you so much it tore a hole in his heart and all he could see when he looked at the sunlight drifting through the window was just darkness. 

It pained him to know that everything you wanted was all he ever needed. It pained him that he hadn’t realized this until it was too late. And it pained him most that you were never coming back.

Why’d you have to leave? 

He tried so hard to stop asking this question, and for a while, he was successful. But the polaroids, your handwriting, the memories, you.. there was just so much pain in the happiness of the past. 

But you were gone. He had accepted that long ago. 

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Terushima, you in here?” a familiar voice called from outside. 

Right, he forgot about Misaki. Wiping any tears left on his face, he put all the polaroids back in the box, covered the lid, and left the room.

“DADDY!!” a little girl yelled, running at him full speed. He bent down and lifted her into his arms effortlessly.

“Oh you’ve gotten heavier. How much has Misaki been feeding you huh?” he teased.

The little girl pouted as she pointed to the floor signaling she wanted to be put down. Terushima chuckled and did so.

Walking over to a slightly annoyed-looking Misaki, he muttered an apology for not going to pick her up and a thanks for taking care of his daughter. 

“Hey wait, you look like you’ve been crying… Are you ok Teru?” she asked, eyes showing her concern.

He let out a deep sigh. 

“I uh- I found a box with some old pictures of Y/n and I just-”

She put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly. 

“Look, I know you miss her and I know you know this, but don’t get too stuck in the past. Focus on what you have now,” she said looking in the direction of the young girl who had made her way over to the small pile of stuffed animals on the couch.

He rubbed his face and nodded, “Yeah. Yeah, thank you Misaki.”

“Ok,” she replied with a sympathetic smile. “I’ll be going then.” 

Terushima nodded again and after she said bye to his daughter, he walked her to the door.

Turning back he leaned on the wall and looked affectionately at the girl playing on his couch. She was still so young, but it’s been almost 5 years now that he’s taken care of her. 

Time seemed to fly by with her and yet it felt like so long ago he welcomed her to the world. 

He understood now the past and its memories were something to be treasured. It was not something to cling on tightly though. The golden days of the past are gone, but the glittering rays that coated the floor and walls of his living room tell him it’s a new age. 

It was an age he had to cherish well.

Deciding to do something he’s been putting off, he walked back into his room and brought out the box with all its polaroids and memories.

“Yui, come here. I want to show you something.”

She stared at him before taking one frayed teddy bear into her hands and walking over to her father. Taking his outreached hand, she looked at the box he held in his other.

Sitting at the top of the pile was a photo of a beautiful woman. The sun was shining bright in the background and the light swirled around her as if she was wrapped in a golden halo.

“Is she an angel?” Yui asked innocently, pointing to the picture.

“You got that right,” he replied with a sad smile. “She’s the most beautiful angel out there..”

He watched as the young girl picked up the photo, seemingly mesmerized.

“That angel is your mom.”

“My mom?” she echoed. “Mommy is an angel?”

He smiled and ruffled her hair, “She sure is, and you know what? She’s looking out for us from heaven, so you better be a good girl for her, okay?”

✰✰ NOTE.. pls lemme know if u guys thought this was angsty enough sdkjlsdg,,,, i dunno i can’t seem to tell whether angst is painful enough yet;-; also don’t mind the name yui dkglsd it was the first one i could think of T-T

✰✰✰ TAGLIST.. @lilikags @luna-in-luv​ @kureyama​

[peggyrose19]

Everything is Falling Apart - Part 3

I’m trying to not make this as angsty and give it a maybe happy ending? but as mentioned I have no control over these characters, I let them do what they want. Also straight up don’t realize how painful my writing is until people tell me, so. There’s that. Moving on. This whole thing ended up a lot longer than I ever intended it to be, but I’m not mad about it. Writing angst is fun. All of your wails and cursings of my name have been quite amusing to me. Am I a horrible person for that? It’s possible. Whatever. Hopefully this will be the last part, at least I’m intending it to be. If it’s not I’m mildly afraid @im-oknutzy-trash will kill me. She says I need to go back to writing fluff instead. I guess she doesn’t enjoy having her heart destroyed. *shrug* love you Hannah! 

Also, can you tell I’m not from New York? I’ve been a handful of times, so I did my best. No, I did absolutely no research since most of this was written in bed when I was supposed to be sleeping or during class when I was supposed to be paying attention. 

Characters belong to the amazing amazing @lumosinlove, AU is Clandestine by my fav @heyitssmiller, and shout out to @awanderingdeal for the cactus name! Thank you for that. Hope you all enjoy and don’t cry too hard. As always, leave a comment and I’ll love you forever. 

“Logan?”

The voice shook him from his thoughts.  

“Yes,” he blurted out. Finn frowned. “I mean no. Yeah, no. Wait, fuck- argh.” He stopped, taking a deep breath. “I mean, I won’t run away from you, not this time. You’re right, that was… that was not good of me to do.” He ran a hand through his hair, searching for what to say. “Merde, I didn’t think it’d be this hard.”

“Lo.” Finn reached across the table and laid a hand over Logan’s. “It’s okay, really.”

He sighed. “No, it’s not. I hurt you. Badly. And I’m really sorry for that. You- you didn’t deserve that.” 

“It’s alright. I hurt you too, I know I did.”

“Finn, no you didn’t.” Logan shook his head. “You were nothing but good to me, and I just left. I left you in that apartment with all of Leo’s things still there and all those memories of us, of him. I left. And you might have forgiven me, but I haven’t forgiven myself for that.” 

Finn bit his lip, unsure how to respond. 

“It was really hard,” he admitted finally. 

“What did you do with all his stuff?”

“It’s in a storage locker. I couldn’t bear to go through it all.”

“D’you-” Logan stopped himself. 

“What?”

“Do you think we could go through it together? I just… I don’t have anything of Leo’s anymore. And I don’t want to forget him. Please?”

Finn took a shaky breath. “Yeah. Yeah, we can do that.” 

“Okay. Thank you.”

“You really mean it? That you’ll stay this time? Because I really want that.”

“Yeah. I mean it.” 

It was a few days before Logan saw Finn again. He spent his time wandering New York City, exploring the place Finn had grown up. It was fascinating to imagine him as a little boy with his bright hair, scurrying about the city with his older brother, causing mischief and giving his parents brain aneurysms. 

When Finn called him, it was Wednesday afternoon and he was in his hotel room, staring aimlessly at the television.

“Hey.” 

Logan swallowed. “Hey.” 

“So, uh, I’ve got some time tomorrow, if you wanna, you know… “

“For the storage locker?”

“Yeah, that. Um, I can meet you there or we can head over together. Best way to get there is by train.”

“I-” Logan thought for a moment of all the things he hadn’t gotten to say yet. “I’ll go with you, if that’s alright with you.”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s fine. Okay. Good. I’ll uh, I’ll send you the details tonight.”

“Okay. I’ll uh, I’ll see you then, I guess.” 

“See you.” 

After Finn had ended the call, Logan sat for a long time. It had been like this every time they talked, a strange feeling of the past, present, and future all colliding together into one. He wasn’t quite sure what to do with it. 

When Logan reached the train station the next day, Finn was there waiting for him, glasses perched on his nose. He stopped for a moment as images flashed through his mind. Finn peering over his shoulder at the mission outline, glasses slipping down his nose. Logan reaching up and pushing them back on. Finn taking his contacts out at the end of each long day, blinking away the dryness in his eyes. Late nights with the three of them sprawled on the couch, all tangled limbs and soft kisses as they relaxed into each other, knowing they were home. 

Logan blinked back to reality. That was the past, he told himself firmly. It would do no good to dwell over something that couldn’t happen again. Shaking his head at himself, Logan crossed to Finn, coming to a halt at his side.

“Hi.” 

Finn jumped a bit. “Hey. You snuck up on me.”

“What kind of spy are you, if you’re that easy to scare?”

“Excuse you, I am an excellent spy. I’ll have you know I won Brad three years in a row.” 

Logan laughed. “How could I forget. You still have it?”

Finn looked affronted. “Of course I do! What kind of question is that?”

“Oh, sorry. Of course you do, why did I think otherwise?”

Fin was saved from having to respond by the loud horn of a train as it approached the station. It came to a stop with a hiss and the doors opened. 

“This is us,” Finn said, and they boarded, finding seats together near the back. It was quieter there, with fewer people.

They didn’t talk the whole way there. Logan sat in silence, searching for something to say, but he came up with nothing. What does one say to the boy they used to love? 

When they reached their stop, nerves suddenly bloomed in Logan’s chest. He hadn’t really thought too hard about what they were doing, more focused on Finn sitting beside him. But as they walked the few short blocks to the storage facility, his stomach began to churn. The building loomed before them, making Logan’s heart race.

“I-” He froze. Finn glanced back at him.

“Hey, Lo,” he said gently, walking back and grabbing his hand. “The moment you want to leave, we will. It’ll be okay. I’m right here with you.” 

Logan took a deep breath. Finn always seemed to know what to say. He looked up at Finn’s worried eyes and gave him a small nod. Still holding hands, the two entered the building. 

“I can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Finn said quietly as they stood before the opened door of the storage unit. Logan clung to his hand. 

As one, they stepped inside. 

Finn grabbed the first box and tugged it open, Logan still at his side. 

“This should have his clothing,” he said, reading the label on the inside flap. He was right; inside were piles of Leo’s old shirts and sweatpants, a few pairs of jeans, some hoodies. Logan pulled out a sweatshirt, soft and faded, one from Leo’s high school, his favorite. He pressed it to his face.

“It doesn’t smell like him anymore,” he murmured. Finn didn’t say anything. He moved onto another box. Logan pulled Leo’s sweatshirt over his head. It went down to his knees. 

“Look at this,” Finn said, looking into the box he’d just opened. Inside were stacks of pictures. 

“You didn’t keep these?” Logan asked, pulling one out. It was the three of them in the park by their apartment, bundled against the cold and leaning into each other, taken by a kind passer-by. The picture had sat on the mantel. Logan had looked at it every day and thought about how lucky he was. 

“No. They just made me sad.” Finn pulled out an envelope, full of unframed photographs. He laughed a little as he began sorting through them. “Remember this?”

In his hand was a series of mugshots of the two of them, nearly unrecognizable in their disguises, both fighting a grin.

Logan snorted. “Do I ever. I kissed you for the first time that night.”

Finn smirked. “I nearly lost my mind when you did that.” 

“So did I.” 

They fell silent again as Finn kept looking at the pictures and Logan moved further into the room. He wasn’t really looking for much, just skimming the labels on the boxes and things left out. But one gave him pause. It was smaller, labelled “Leo Trinkets” in Finn’s neat handwriting. Curious, Logan opened it. 

Inside were, in fact, trinkets. As Logan began sorting through them, he started to recognize them. A small rock he’d found on an op, the same color as Leo’s eyes. Cooking stickers he’d found on a bike ride, the ones Leo said were too precious to ever use. The rainbow mug he’d bought for pride month, Leo’s name in cursive on the side. 

He dug deeper and deeper into the box, a new memory surfacing with each item. Every small trinket or bobble he’d ever gotten for Leo, placed lovingly in this small box. Logan didn’t notice he was crying until his tears fell onto the novel he was holding, the first-edition copy of Leo’s favorite book he’d found for his birthday. 

“You okay?” Finn asked quietly, setting a hand on his shoulder.

Logan sobbed, “I can’t believe he kept all this. I can’t believe you kept it.”

“Of course I kept it,” Finn sniffed. “We kept everything you ever gave us.” 

“Really?”

“Yes. Everything you gave me is in a box in my apartment. Some of it is still out. Like that funny little cactus you got me. I named it Sir Prick-a-Lot.“

Logan gave him a little smile. “Of course you named it something stupid.”

“Ah! Rude.”  When Logan didn’t answer, Finn’s smile faded. He was still staring down at the book in his hands.“Do you wanna bring that stuff back with you?” he asked. Logan just nodded.

Carefully, they packed everything back up, adding a few other things to the box; a few pictures, some of his old clothes. A little while later, they shut the lights off, leaving everything else for another day. 

On the train ride home, Logan held his box close to his chest. Finn sat beside him, their shoulders and knees pressed together. They didn’t say anything.

Logan thought of all the things he’d wanted to say. But maybe not all of them needed to be said. He looked over at Finn, then down at the box in his arms. He didn’t want to forget, to move on. He missed them. And he knew he couldn’t get Leo back. But maybe he could get Finn back, even just as a friend. He was tired of being alone. 

“Finn?”

“Yeah.”

“I still love you, too.”

[psychedellic-phase]

Fifteen (pt 13)

(gif by me! I use the iphone app momento)

tw: language, angst, mentions of drug use (relapse), mentions of miscarriage

word count: 7.3k (im sorry)

masterlist

series masterlist

Spencer got up from the cold tile floor, fuzzy unicorn in hand, and faced the window above the kitchen sink. He stared out of it, admiring the snow that was still falling lightly, wondering if it was raining in Seattle. His memory flashed to the last time he stood in the rain with you, but he tried to shake the images away. Instead he watched the snowflakes hit his windowpanes and melt. He hoped that maybe you were somewhere staring out of a window, admiring the dreary weather, and thinking of him too. 

He found his place against the dishwasher again, sliding down as his mismatched socks gave way so he could stretch his long legs out fully. He pulled the nearly empty box onto his lap and appreciated the light weight of it, as he continued with his twelfth letter and thirteenth item. Thirteen, a number whose history of unluckiness stems all the way back to the thirteen attendees of the Last Supper, and tracks through the number of steps leading up to the gallows, all the way to the number of letters in the names of some of the most infamous criminals. 

Thirteen was a haunted number, which rightly accompanied a haunting letter. 

“This one’s long. It’s a month of tarnished memories packed into a few pieces of paper. So far I’ve gone through half of a college-ruled one subject notebook and I’ve had to change pens twice. It’s nearing 2:30, and the wine is finally hitting my empty stomach. Sorry in advance for the way my handwriting will be. I’ll try to make this make as much sense as I can. 

If you look at your thirteenth item it is the notepad I stole from that resort in Florida. There isn’t much around to signify this letter. You don’t keep mementos from one of the saddest days of your life, but for some reason I took this useless paper and shoved it in my purse on my way out. Good thing I did, or you’d have no item to attach to these memories. Though I suppose that might be better. 

The resort was where we were going to be at for our ‘babymoon,’ whatever that is. What a dumb idea, I’m still mad at myself for letting Garcia talk us into one. She just made it sound so appealing. 

Once everyone knew I was pregnant, Hotch pretty much sat me in Quantico with Penelope. There were a few local cases where I was lucky enough to go visit the ME’s office, but usually I kicked my feet up in her lair while you were out in the field. 

“A what?” I said one day as she ran DNA through CODIS. The two of us were drinking herbal tea, and I was barely 16 weeks. I just looked like I had a big lunch in my stomach, not a baby the size of an avocado. 

“A babymoon. It’s like a honeymoon, but you go when you’re pregnant. It’s one last trip for mommy and daddy to go on and spend quality time together. How many trips have you and Dad-Wonder even been on?”

I shrugged. We didn’t travel much for pleasure. We traveled for work, so on our rare days off we liked to be at home. 

“I mean we’ve gone to Vegas and Connecticut a few times.”

She rolled her eyes, “Visiting family, my dear, is not a vacation! I was thinking you two would go to the beach. You guys relax and wade in the ocean and Spencer can build sandcastles that defy every law of physics!”

I laughed at that. You and the beach? It just didn’t feel natural to me. Probably because you aren’t capable of actually relaxing.  

“That does sound fun,” I said and I spoke to my barely there stomach, “And it would make daddy take a few days off.”

Penelope squealed and started clicking at her computer, “I’ll find a resort online right now! Okay so how about Marco Island? It’s gorgeous and in Florida, so it’ll be like eighty and sunny, even in the beginning of December.”

“I’ll have to talk to Spence about it. I mean I know it would be fun and all but we really should be saving money for a crib, and car seat, and bassinet, and high chair, and a rocking chair, and a baby swing, and a—“

Garcia stopped me from spiraling out of control, “That is why you throw a huge baby shower! People buy those things for you.”

I rubbed my tummy again, “Oh no, Daddy is very particular about what things are bought.”

“That’s why you have a registry, Momma Bear. Now, no more excuses.”

Before I could even call you, she had put in both of our requests for days off and we had a week long reservation at this fancy resort that you see listed at the top of this notepad, the “Crystal Cove”.  

I was only slightly mortified that she did all this without me asking you. Mostly, I was happy. I was afraid you wouldn’t say yes, but if PG already booked it, you kind of had to agree. And to my surprise, you did. 

When you got back from that case we were at home, you eating something I had poorly made from a random cookbook on a shelf. I had decided to start cooking more, so I could make homemade meals. I wanted to be that mom who cuts sandwiches into flower shapes and always has fresh baked bread and cookies laying around. I wanted us to be those parents; the ones who are so sickeningly in love that their kids roll their eyes every time they kiss. We were those parents, kind of, if we could even be considered ‘parents.’ At that point, I don’t think we were. But we were definitely in tooth-rotting, sickeningly sweet love. 

“So, I have a surprise for you,” I said, coming up behind you and rustling your hair. 

“Hm?” You said, stuffing your face like you hadn’t eaten in days. You probably hadn’t. You’re the king of forgetting to eat. Maybe that’s how you stay so skinny. 

“I booked a trip, well I guess technically Garcia did.”

“A trip?” You raised an eyebrow. 

“Yeah, a trip, to the beach. Penelope called it a ‘babymoon.’”

You laughed, “A babymoon? I’m not familiar."

I smiled and sat across from you, “It’s like a honeymoon, except it's just me and you relaxing and spending quality time together before this lil dude makes his appearance.”

You smiled, “I’m telling you, it’s a girl.”

I rolled my eyes, “It’s definitely a boy, but stop ignoring my offer.”

“Well, it’s not really an offer so much as it is you telling me that we’re doing this.”

“Okay, yes Garcia helped me book it already, and yes she put in our requests for days off, but you can say no.”

You did your little nose twitch scrunch thing, “I’d never say no to quality time with you, Love.”

You leaned over and kissed me, and I squealed, “I’m so excited! I have to buy maternity bathing suits now! Oh and a sunhat!””

Spencer smiled fondly, recounting that day. He was thrilled to go, minus the part where he’d have to wear shorts, and flip flops. Something about the piece that goes between your toes makes him squeamish. He was looking for the right opportunity to use something special he had bought for you, and you had just given him it. A week on a beautiful beach with the love of his life? That would be the perfect time to ask you what he had been waiting to ask you since JJ’s wedding. He was going to take Hotch’s advice; stop waiting, start doing, and get down on one knee with a blue velvet box. 

He never got the chance to. The trip was supposed to be in the beginning of December, around your week twenty-four. You never got that far. 

He got up from the ground, immediately digging around in a drawer full of pencils and compasses and rulers, finding the blue box in a corner. It was covered in pencil shavings and dust. He hadn’t looked at it in months. He held it delicately in his hands before opening it. 

It was plain, but he remembered you said that was what you wanted. 

“Oval, of course and silver,” You had explained to Penelope and JJ at a night out years ago. Derek and Spencer sat on the opposite side of the table, but his ears perked up at the mention of rings. 

“I like just the band,” JJ said, admiring her own ring, “And I have Henry’s birthstone, the citrine, so I didn’t need another one.”

“What kind of stone Y/N? I’d love a pink diamond! Or a ruby! Imagine!” Penelope gushed. 

You shook your head, “I’d take cubic zirconia, if it was coming from the right guy.”

Both Penelope and JJ stuck their tongues out, “Nuh-uh!” Garcia said, grabbing her phone to scroll through more pinterest photos. 

“Spence will be getting you a diamond.”

You rolled your eyes and whispered, “Don’t jinx it JJ! And I don’t want a diamond.”

Her mouth dropped, “No diamond? Really.”

“Diamonds aren’t ethically sourced.”

“Lab grown! Get lab grown!” PG piped it, showing you a picture of a ring, just an oval in a plain silver setting. 

“That! That’s the one!” You said and Garcia giggled, going on a rant about her dream wedding. 

Spencer had gotten that exact ring. Lab grown, oval, classic, beautiful. It was what you wanted, and you deserved everything you ever wanted. 

Spencer looked at the notepad. He could tell you had a hard time picking an item for this letter. He knows this letter is the end, the other two are the epilogue of  a story he wishes you kept writing. Crystal Cove is the place where he had planned on asking you to marry him, but it ended up being the place where your love story ended. He tossed the notebook to the side and decided that the souvenir for this letter was now going to be this ring. This ring that sparkled and shined, even in the dull incandescent lights of his kitchen. This ring that belonged on your finger, and not in the back of a drawer. This ring that you didn’t even know existed, but if you had, maybe you’d still be together. 

“I did buy three maternity bathing suits, and you bought shorts. Spencer Reid in shorts. It was going to be the best trip ever. We were going to snorkel and look at sea turtles and sunbathe and drink virgin piña coladas by the ocean. We were going to get couples massages and spend every moment loving and appreciating each other.

The actual trip? Much different than the one we had planned on paper, but let’s first discuss that time between the hospital and the trip. 

It was four weeks. Four weeks of me sitting at home while you were off at work. Four weeks of the door opening and Derek walking through, not you. And on the odd chance that it was you opening the door, you’d be appearing at odd hours of the night to grab a new suit or a file or a snack and then getting back in your shitty car and going to your apartment. Each time I heard that comforting sound of your satchel hitting the floor, I’d crawl out of the cave of blankets I was in to find you, and you’d act like I wasn’t even there. 

For the first few days, you asked me how I was and if I was feeling better, then you’d check your phone and wave goodbye. After that, I was lucky if you’d say hello, then I was lucky if I even got a glimpse of you. You never held me. You never kissed me. You never told me you loved me.

I got all my information about you from Derek. Every day I texted you, “Have a good day at work! Talk soon?” And everyday you didn’t answer, so I’d ask Derek if you were okay. He’d always tell me what you were doing. Usually you would take a stack of files of cases to a dark room and make preliminary profiles to send back to the departments, alone. I’d tell him thank you, and the next day would be the same nonsense. 

Those four weeks dragged. It was like every minute was an hour and everyday was a year. I was healing, even without you, everyday I felt better and better. But that’s relative to the day before. I haven’t felt ‘good’ yet. I haven’t felt ‘happiness’ yet. But I will. And I’m counting on that. 

My mandatory leave was four weeks, and at the end of that Hotch called me in for a ‘mandatory psychological evaluation.’ I didn’t tell you about it because you weren’t speaking to me, and even when you did you were angry and snappy and rude.  

I didn’t pass the evaluation. Even though the BAU wrote those damn questions, I still didn’t pass. When my four weeks were up, you were expecting me at work, and I never showed. You didn’t notice how not okay I was because you were too busy handling your own feelings, which I understand. You have to take care of yourself first, deal with your own trauma before touching anyone else’s. So, your trauma was none of my business, a concept you should've applied to my healing process. 

I was supposed to come back on a Monday and when I didn’t show you came to the house. You opened the door and yelled my name. It was a sound I hadn’t heard in weeks, and it felt good. I thought you had finally come home. I thought you were finally ready to heal with me, but you weren’t. You were there to judge me.

I think I ran to where you were, a smile on my face that I didn’t think I was capable of making, “Hey!”

You looked so put together in a neatly pressed suit, but your eyes exposed you. They were bloodshot and the bags were so large they almost reached the end of your nose. I had on one of your shirts; it was comforting at the time. Not so much anymore.  

You looked me up and down, a small scowl forming on your face, “Where were you today?”

I took a deep breath, and I lied, because lying to you felt easier than telling you the truth. The truth that I was not deemed stable enough to come back, even though I wanted to. I needed to be distracted. I was ashamed, scared, confused. 

“I-I didn’t go.”

“Didn’t go? You’ll get fired Y/N.”

I sighed, “No, my leave got extended.”

I could feel the way your eyes bore into my skull as I dodged eye contact. 

“Extended?! It’s been four weeks.”

“I’m not ready!” I desperately wanted you to see through it. I thought I was ready, but the papers disagreed.

“Hotch let you do that?” Your voice was increasing and I found myself inching away from you.

“He encouraged it!” Another lie. He didn’t ‘encourage’ it. He forced me.

You rolled your eyes, grabbing your bag and opening the door again.

“You’re leaving? Spencer c’mon I-”

You cut me off by slamming that door in my face. 

That’s when I started closing myself off. I started dreading the sound of your feet against the floor at three am. I started to put my own walls up, but they would dull in comparison to the Great Wall of Spencer you built around yourself to keep me out.”

Spencer was always good at putting walls up. In fact, you were the only person to ever get him to take (almost) all of them down. There’s a side of him he doesn’t show anyone, a side of him that he reserves for himself, and when something happens, that’s where he goes. He goes to the corner of his brain where he feels safe, and the walls come up to protect him.

And in those last four weeks, he did just that. He put the walls up, shut you out, and decided that was better. Except it wasn’t better, it just was easier. It was easier for him to bypass you and find a new outfit for work tomorrow. It was easier for him to disappear in the office until the odd hours of the morning. It was easier for him to hide away from you, because when he’s exposed he always gets hurt. It was easier to act like everything was fine, even though everything was the opposite of fine. 

He never needed to go to the house, part of him was drawn there like a moth to a lantern. He was drawn to you. As much as he didn’t want to see those four walls, he still needed to check on you. He just did it in his own damaged way. He’d get a glimpse of you in old sweats and a shirt with a hole in it, hair a mess and mascara from two weeks ago adding to your eye bags and he’d be reminded that he couldn’t be there for you. He would never be enough, and he’d retreat into the comfort of solitude. 

He was so preoccupied with being hurt, that he didn’t realize just how much he hurt you too. 

“I had forgotten about the stupid trip, and so had you. You were too preoccupied with work and not speaking to me and I was preoccupied with crying and trying to speak to you. I only remembered the trip when I got an email from the airline about the flight, they had to move our seats or something stupid. I decided that was a reason for you to actually need to speak to me like I was a person, so I took advantage of it. 

I intercepted you at home one day. I had been sitting in the kitchen waiting for you. You came home at two am. 

“Hey,” I said, immediately as you walked through the door. You looked surprised that I was up. 

“Hi, I’m just gonna—“

“Spencer, stop. We have to talk.”

You crossed your arms, not leaving the threshold of the door, “No. I told you a million times Y/N, I don’t want to talk.”

“Not about...” I couldn’t find the words and you started up the stairs. 

“Are we going on this damn trip or not?” I said, my voice cracking from lack of use. 

You stopped, looking over the banister at me, “You didn’t cancel it?”

“I didn’t think of it until now. We’re supposed to leave in two days.”

You groaned, “Why didn’t you cancel it?”

I threw my hands up. As if all of this was my responsibility? 

 “I was preoccupied! Did you cancel your days off?”

You shook your head, rubbing your face, “No, God. Can we still get a refund?”

I was hurt that you didn’t want to go, but not surprised. As I stared at the front door from my spot at the kitchen table I decided that I was going to go no matter what. It was going to be refreshing to look at the ocean instead of an empty nursery. That would be my distraction.

 “I-I’m going. I’ll pay for your half, but I’m going. I’m losing my mind here, Spence.”

You looked at me again, still contemplating your options. 

“I get it, okay? You can’t be in this house, but neither can I. Maybe we can talk and stuff on neutral ground. I-I just want you there with me, the way it was supposed to be.”

Then you took me by surprise, you nodded, “Yeah, yeah we’ll go.”

I’m sure I lit up like Rockefeller Center at Christmas, “Really?”

You rubbed your eyes, “Yeah, we can go Y/N.”

I was feeling lucky, so I pushed it, too hard, “Are you staying tonight?”

Your voice went from sleepy to sour, “No.”

And you vanished up the stairs, taking all my hope in us with you. 

I knew deep down it wouldn’t end well. I knew it was going to be fighting and yelling and arguing, but any time with you was good time with you at that point. And I favored the little bit of serotonin and dopamine you flood my brain with as opposed to staring at the gray walls of the kitchen alone.”

Spencer only agreed to go because he thought he was getting there. Everyday he felt a little better when he’d walk through the door, but he still wasn’t ready. He thought a week of no work and no one to talk to except you would bring the walls down. This would finally be the catalyst in a reaction that was taking far too long to complete. He also couldn’t stand the thought of you flying and spending a week alone. He felt better about you being alone here because you weren’t really alone. You had Derek visiting, Garcia dropping off baskets, phone calls from Emily, the odd visit from Rossi, and apparently phone calls to Hotch, but on that island you’d really be alone, and he was worried about how you’d handle it. 

“So two days later we got on a three hour flight to Miami, and I drove our rental car to this resort. We didn’t talk much the whole time, besides some small talk about the flight and other odd comments. It was painfully awkward, and I regretted even coming. 

We didn’t speak until I used the keycard to open the door, and we stared at the one king sized bed in the room.

“Oh,” was all you said when you realized you’d have to share with me.

“What?”

“There’s only one bed.”

I rolled my eyes, “Spencer, we’ve shared a bed for three years.”

You just stood at the door with your hands fidgeting on the handle of the suitcase, “I’ll call down and ask for a cot to be brought up.”

“A cot? Are you serious?” I couldn’t believe you, “Why come if you wouldn’t even share a bed with me? I said I’d be fine alone.”

You opened your mouth to speak, but changed your mind. 

“Great communication skills Spence. Really, I’m impressed.” You rolled your eyes and finally started to unpack your bag, “I came because I was worried about what you’d do here all alone.”

Part of me was happy you were worried, but a bigger part was annoyed, “I’ve been handling being alone fine, thanks.”

You scoffed, “Yeah. That’s why you need Derek to bring you food everyday, because you’re doing so well.”

I bit my tongue and tried to speak calmly, “Well at least someone checks on me everyday.”

That shut you right up.

The three days you were there went as follows: we slept as far apart from each other as we could, despite how badly I wanted to cuddle into your arms. We’d get up in silence, eat breakfast in silence, walk to the beach and read in silence, eat lunch and dinner in silence, and each night we’d yell at each other until we fell asleep on opposite sides of the bed.

Remember what I said to trigger the fight on December third, your last day there? How could you forget? It’s the fight that broke us up. 

“So, I was thinking of going to a counselor,” I said, staring at the waves lap the sand from the balcony of our room. The air felt cold for eighty degrees. But maybe that was just because the air between me and you had been cold for weeks. 

You were sitting next to me, but I could tell you were worlds away. 

“Spence,” I nudged, trying to snap you out of your daydream. 

“Hm? What?”

“I said I’m going to go to a counselor.”

You twisted your face, “A counselor? What for?”

I shrugged, “I-I think it’d be good for me. It’s a grief counselor.”

You turned to look at me, your brow covered in sweat and your eyes watery. You were incessantly bouncing your left leg, rubbing at your nose, and you seemed disinterested in every single thing I was saying or doing. In fact, you’d been acting that way since the first day you disappeared to your apartment. 

“Counselor? Yeah,” You were fidgeting, barely making eye contact. 

A feeling I can only describe as pure dread formed in my stomach. I thought I might puke, but I swallowed the feeling and kept talking, “I got a recommendation from Hotch. He said he went to Dr. Stevens after Haley died. He said it really helped.”

You were still not listening. 

“I think it’d be good if we went together.”

That finally got your undivided attention. “Together?” You snapped, “No.”

“Why not?” I said it with an air of exhaustion and despair. I was tired of this. So fucking tired of it. 

“I’m not going to a damn therapist, Y/N,” You seethed, your metal deck chair scraping against the concrete as you stood in front of me. 

The sky looked stormy, palm trees whipping in the wind as you came before me. The bags under your eyes looked like bruises, and you had on sleeves. It was eighty and you had on sleeves.

“Okay, I’ll go alone then. I think he could really help us though.”

I was giving up on fighting. I didn’t understand how when I was at my absolute low you could just keep kicking me while I was down. All I wanted was for you to go to someone and talk about it. That’s it. You were acting like I’d asked you to move a mountain for me, which, might I add, at one point you would have done. 

“He? You really think a male therapist is going to help? You lost a baby, Y/N—“

“WE,” I clarified, for what felt like the fiftieth time, “We lost a baby.”

You rolled your eyes and ignored me, “You lost a baby. How does a male therapist help you through that?”

I was angry now. It was bubbling up to the top and I thought I might explode. 

“He’s a grief counselor! He’ll help me through my GRIEF! And I think you should go because clearly you have a lot going on. You always have! You should’ve been seeing someone for years.”

“Oh, I have a lot going on?” You sneered, “Of course I have a lot going on! I go to work everyday to bring you home a paycheck so you can sit around all day and do nothing.”

I stood up, got close to your face, “I’m on leave.”

“Yeah, sure, keep telling yourself that.”

You bypassed me and went inside, and my hot anger turned into wet anger and fat tears were rolling down my cheeks.

“Do you know how traumatic this was on my body? Do you? Everything hurts and you were supposed to be there! You were supposed to take four weeks off too! You were supposed to be there for me!”

“Yeah and who’s there for me!” You yelled, louder than I think you ever had; at me at least. You had thrown your suitcase on the bed, haphazardly grabbing your clothes from the drawers and shoving them in. 

“I would’ve been,” I said softly, coming up behind you to grab your arm lightly, “If you had let me.”

You pulled back, “Don’t touch me!”

I reached up to wipe my eyes and crossed my arms in front of myself defensively, “I want to be there for you, Spencer. I do. Why won’t you let me?”

You didn’t answer, because even you didn’t know why. You just stood over the suitcase, one arm on either side of it, hair matted to your sweaty face, panting and panting. 

The facts I had chosen to ignore were staring me in the face again. Or maybe I was just that oblivious. 

“I’ve never seen you like this. This isn’t you, Love,” I tried to say in my most soothing voice. The dread had clawed its way back up to the back of my throat. 

“Or maybe this is me,” you said softly, and I swear you were crying. Or maybe I hoped you were, that way we were both sobbing. That’s as close to togetherness as we could get. 

“Maybe this is who I am now, or who I’ve been all along.”

I reached out for you again, but stopped myself, “No, Spencer. The real you isn’t this angry, and bitter, and mean.”

You slammed your hands against the bed, “Yes it is!”

“Is that what you’ve been doing all this time?” I said sadly, shaky breaths between words, “Is that what you’ve been going to your apartment and doing?”

You turned around, skin sweaty and eyes red, “What? What are you talking about now? God, do you ever stop talking?”

I snapped, ignoring your last jab there, “Are you using?”

Your face contorted into a sour expression, “Am I using?”

“Yeah, Spencer! Are you? Because I can’t see any other reason for why you’re so irritable and sweaty and out of it! So I’ll ask you again, are you going through withdrawal?”

You looked like I had literally punched you in the gut, and I kind of had. It was a low blow, I’ll admit it, but I was seriously worried about you. If an event would trigger you, this would’ve been it. 

“What? No!”

I wasn’t sure whether or not I should believe you, but I knew I had to support you either way. I love you, even when you’re angry at me, I still love you. Even when you throw clothes and seethe at me through gritted teeth, I still love you. That’s my fatal flaw. No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.”

Spencer let out a shaky breath, lower lip pinched between his teeth. Was he really that terrible? He didn’t remember being so spiteful. Reading it back, he understood why you thought he was high, and he had thought about it more than he cared to admit. But he hadn’t touched the stuff in seven years, and he wasn’t about to start again now.

‘No matter how many reasons you give me to stop loving you, I never will.’ 

That line made him want to cry, hands clenching the ring box as if it were a stress ball. That line simultaneously felt like a stab in the gut and a breath of fresh air. He had given you so many reasons to walk away, and the one reason to stay was there in his palm, unused.

““It’s okay if you are. I understand this is a... hard time. I’ll support you through this,” I put my hands out to touch your chest. 

“I’m not high and haven’t been in years!” You swatted my hands down. 

“Then what the hell is going on!?” 

“I’m angry and I’m sad and I’m heartbroken!” You yelled, going back out onto the balcony to stand in the rain that had started pouring down in sheets. 

“Spencer! Stop!” I followed you out, tears mixing with rain to the point that I didn’t know which was which. 

“I’m just confused! It’s hard to see the point in all this anymore. Maybe it’s just not worth it,” You said, yelling at the ocean not at me. Rain soaked our clothes instantly. Part of me was hoping this scene would end like the ‘notebook’ we’d kiss and you’d spin me around. I guess this is kind of like the notebook, it’s a story to help you remember us. Except you don’t have Alzheimer’s and I wrote 15 letters, not 365. 

“Maybe what’s not worth it?” I was yelling too, just so you could hear me over the sound of the wind and the rain. 

“This!” You gestured between us. I felt like you knocked the air out of me, my whole body stinging. 

“But I love you!”

“All of this has made me realize that love isn’t everything! I love you too but we need more than that!”

That was the first time I’d heard you say ‘I love you’ in a month, but it was a double edged sword. I bit my lip so hard I think I started bleeding, “Love isn’t enough? Are you kidding me, Spencer?”

You swallowed thickly, “No! I’m not kidding. I’ve never been more serious!”

“So what? That’s it?” I said it quietly, but I wanted to scream at you. I wanted to scream that you were being an idiot. You were being ridiculous. You were being unnecessarily cruel. But I didn’t. I was tired and water logged. I had finally given up.

You ran your hands through your hair, “No–it’s–we we aren’t over Y/N. I’m just saying that it’s gonna take more than love to fix us.”

“Well maybe if you were ever home, we could actually try. But you aren’t. You’re always gone! So explain to me how we’re going to fix this. What’s it gonna take Spencer? What do you want from me?”

You took a deep breath, uttering words I was so sick of hearing, “We need space and time.”

“Space? Time? It’s been a month Spencer! I let you go to work. I let you spend every day at your damn apartment. I stopped calling. I stopped checking in. How much more space and time do you want?”

“Thirty-four days,” you mumbled, just so I could barely hear. The thunder rolled, mostly drowning it out. 

“What was that?” 

“It’s been THIRTY-FOUR days, Y/N. Thirty-four. I don’t know how you expect me to be okay after only thirty-four days.”

“I don’t expect you to be fine! I expect you to speak to me! To look at me! I want to go to bed crying and have you there next to me. I want to be there for you when you’re crying. The only way we get better is if we do this TOGETHER!”

The anger looked like it melted off of you, and I took that as my opportunity to approach. I threw my arms around your soaked body as you shook with sobs into my shoulder. I held you like my life depended on it, because in a way it did. You wrapped your arms around me too, and everything felt okay. We were standing in the pouring rain, holding each other as we cried, and somehow I felt more okay than I had in the thirty-four days prior. It felt like maybe you were coming back to me. 

You weren’t. 

We stood like that for what felt like hours, and eventually I pulled you inside. I wish I didn’t. I wish we stayed there, holding each other in the rain until the sun came up and dried us off. I foolishly thought the rain washed our sins away. 

“It’s going to be okay,” I said, my head on your shoulder as we wrapped ourselves in towels, “I promise.”

You shrugged me off of you, going back to packing your bag. 

“Spencer, stop packing, please,” I begged, grabbing the items you were putting in and taking them back out. 

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you said plainly, taking a shirt and putting it back in. 

“I-I thought—“

“Thought what, Y/N? That because I cried to you and told you I loved you that we were magically okay?” 

I stammered, “No. No! But I thought it meant we were in this together now.” 

“You just accused me of relapsing an hour ago.”

“And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that, but that’s not a reason you should go,” I pleaded, reaching for you again. I thought if you walked away I’d never see you again.

“You don’t trust me,” your voice cracked. 

“No, Love, I—“

“Don’t call me that.”

The pain in my chest bloomed, sending a wave of heartache through my entire body. A heartache I still haven’t been able to shake. It’s still there. Some days it's a thunder crack and sometimes it's a low grumble, but it’s always there. The rain hasn't stopped.  

I hadn’t even realized that you were completely packed until you zipped the suitcase shut. 

“You’re really leaving?” 

You stopped at the door, hand on the handle, to turn and face me. I didn’t need to use my profiling skills to see how much pain you were in, and my pain doubled at the sight. I’ve always been an empath when it comes to you, feeling what you feel like it’s my own. 

“I am.”

I crossed the room and threw my arms around you, sobbing into your chest. To my surprise, you wrapped your arms around me lightly. 

“I understand,” I said, looking into your eyes, “We can’t be there for each other the way we need to.”

You nodded into my shoulder, “Stay. When you get home from this we’ll talk. I just need a few more days.”

I shook my head, finally coming to the realization that we didn’t work anymore. We weren’t healthy anymore. 

“Don’t bother. The writing’s on the wall, Spence,” my voice wavered, and I regretted every word as they left my mouth, “I’ve been waiting for that person from the hospital to come home to me. I’ve been waiting for the Spencer who lends me his shirts and fact dumps and eats IHOP and ice cream with me to come home.”

I felt your breath stop under my arms, “But that Spencer, the Spencer I love, isn’t here anymore. We need to be alone.”

I felt you shake with tears under me, and that triggered mine, “We have to break up.”

I wish I never said it. I wish I gave you those few days, but we both know those few days would’ve turned into weeks and months and we would’ve ended up here anyway. I wish you didn’t let me say them. I wish you kissed me to shut me up and told me I was being stupid. I wish I didn’t watch you go down that elevator, tears on your cheeks. I wish I didn’t spend the other four days in an empty king sized bed, crying for you. 

I realize now that you changed. I did too. Instead of wishing for the old you, I should’ve learned to love the new you. I think I would’ve, if I had given it a chance. Actually, I know I would’ve. I think I’d fall in love with every version of you that could ever exist or has ever existed. You and I, we’re meant to be together. 

I know you probably don’t believe in it, but I like to think that we’re twin flames; we’re two halves of one soul that somehow ended up in two bodies and constantly pull to find each other again. I’ve read a lot about them recently. Twin flames don’t necessarily end up together. They can even just be two people with an intense friendship. They’re people who help each other grow, even if that means they’re only in your life for a short time. I like to think that we are that case, and that in some parallel universe I’m with you and we have our daughter and we’re happy. I just wish that I was in that universe now. 

I know it’s for the best that we went to the damn Crystal Cove and broke up. I’m sure someday in the future I’ll be pleased with that decision, but for now, I still regret it.”

Spencer stared at the notepad, eyes flicking between that in his left hand and the ring box in his right. He took the ring out and admired it in the light. It glinted and glimmered, delicately refracting light onto the cabinets. He slid it halfway down his ring finger because that’s as far as it would go. He imagined it was on your slender, perfectly manicured hand instead of his, but an ache formed where his heart was when he realized it’d never end up here. 

Spencer grabbed the notebook. It was unlined and the paper felt flimsy and thin. He got up from the floor to find a pencil in the drawer the ring had been hidden in, and took it out to scrawl his own letter to go with his own memento. A sixteenth letter for a sixteenth item you had no idea even existed. 

“Y/N,

I’d like to consider this letter sixteen, to go with the engagement ring that’s in my palm. I bought this ring the day after we ate dinner at Rossi’s and showed everyone tiny FBI onesies. I have your perfect ring here in my hand, a plain silver band with a lab-grown diamond in a four-prong setting in the center, just like you told Garcia you wanted. I should’ve given it to you the day I bought it, but I waited until the perfect opportunity presented itself. 

What you didn’t know about the trip to the Crystal Cove was that I was going to propose to you there. I was going to get down on one knee in the sand at sunset after dinner. I even had a whole speech planned. I was going to tell you that I never thought I could love anyone as much as I love you, or that anyone would ever love me the way that you do. I was going to say that it amazes me how everyday, I wake up and love you more than I did the night before. And everyday I think it’s be impossible to love you and our daughter more than I do right now. I wanted to tell you that I want to wake up every morning and feel that for the rest of my life. I want the good, the bad, the ugly, I want it all. I want Korean film festivals and IHOP breakfasts and to talk to the moon. I want tubs of ice cream and overly sentimental flowers hanging from the wall. Most of all I wanted to say that I want to spend every day of my life making you happy. 

That speech still applies today. I still love you enough to ask you, but I don’t think you love me enough to say yes. 

It’s okay. It really is. I haven’t decided what to do yet, but if you do read this, just know that it’s okay. I promise you, it’s okay. I’m not the bitter, angry man I was at the Crystal Cove anymore. I changed again, and I hope you’re right. I hope we are twin flames and your soul will come looking for mine, and I hope it happens in this universe, not the infinite parallels that may or may not exist. I miss you and I want nothing more than for you to come back. Come home, Love, please come home.

-SR”

He stared at the notebook page, before tearing it off and folding it in half, placing it in his pocket for safekeeping. He went on his computer and bought the cheapest one-way ticket to Seattle that he could find. He needed to see you. He needed you to see this letter, see this ring. He needed to make this right.

The flight was a red eye, leaving at midnight, so he’d get to the Seattle field office by eight. He looked at the leather watch and saw that it was nearly nine. He decided had to finish, and he had to finish now, as he grabbed letter #14. 

PART 14

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Taglist!

@l0ve-0f-my-life @aperrywilliams @helloniallslovelies @random-ravings @ajwantsapancake @andiebeaword @boiled-onionrings @frnks-stuff @icantevenanymore1 @mellifluouswildbluebells @rottenearly @sammypotato67 @blushingwueen @peaxhyjaes @justanotherfangurlz @juniorgman187 @mbowles23-blog @blameitonthenight21 @goldentournesol @rainsong01 @thelifeofadumbbitch @swimmingtrashwobblersludge @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @eldahae

[horansqueen]

You & Me : chapter 33

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1 || CHAPTER 2 || CHAPTER 3 || CHAPTER 4 || CHAPTER 5 || CHAPTER 6 || CHAPTER 7 || CHAPTER 8 || CHAPTER 9 || CHAPTER 10 || CHAPTER 11 || CHAPTER 12 || CHAPTER 13 || CHAPTER 14 || CHAPTER 15 || CHAPTER 16 || CHAPTER 17 || CHAPTER 18 || CHAPTER 19 || CHAPTER 20 || CHAPTER 21 || CHAPTER 22 || CHAPTER 23 || CHAPTER 24 || CHAPTER 25 || CHAPTER 26 || CHAPTER 27 || CHAPTER 28 || CHAPTER 29 || CHAPTER 30 || CHAPTER 31 || CHAPTER 32

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4.1k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: i actually enjoyed writing this. but i feel like i forgot something and i cant put my fingers on it.

if you want to be on the list of blogs i notify when this is updated, just message me :)

requests! : here they are! hope you like them! changed the second one a bit tho

Chapter 33 : His chapter

NIALL

March 29th, 2018

Ninteen days. Nineteen long days without her and I was back again in Dublin for a show before I could take a plane to her and spend over two weeks with her. If I wanted to be honest with myself, these past weeks had been horrible. I waited for her calls like a dependent and crazy boyfriend and it made me think that perhaps, it was how she felt when I spent so much time at a bar, back then. I could pretend I was not scared that the feelings she had for Dylan would somehow change and become stronger than the ones she had for me, but deep down, I knew It was a fear of mine. They say 'out of sight, out of mind', right?

I didn't know if I should worry or not because despite the fact that she has loved me for as long as she can remember, I was well aware that feelings change. After all, she hadn't broken up with Dylan for me, she had made that clear and I knew anyway, which meant that going back to him was always an option. I shook my head, a bit lost in my thoughts, as people around me were laughing and preparing the show. I didn't want to go out there and sing, I didn't want to be here. Not if she was somewhere else.

I did everything like a zombie, feeling a bit numb, and finally grabbed my guitar and putting a smile on my face. I jumped slightly when I felt a hand on my shoulder and turned to see a blond head, making me smile more.

"You alright?"

I blinked a few times and just nodded before turning around but suddenly, I felt my heart jump in my chest.

"Jules?" i asked loud enough for her to hear me. "Where's Liv's note? I was sure I put it here."

Julia frowned and started looking around before shaking her head. "Are you sure you left it here?"

My heartbeats started accelerating. I knew I had to be on stage in less than two minutes and I had completely forgotten about the note. In fact, my mind had been blank for a few hours. Julia and I both started searching everywhere and I was literally starting to panic. I knew it was not that big of a deal if I missed opening her envelop one time, or even if I walked on stage 10 minutes late, but for some reason, it stressed me so much it made me want to puke.

I don't know how long it took but I saw Julia run back to me, her arm up in the air, holding a pink envelop, zigzagging to dodge people on her way to me. I sighed and felt the stress falter. She got in front of me and I snatched the envelop from her hands before pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you!"

She chuckled and pulled away before grabbing my phone and licking her lips. "Okay, open it, I'm filming you."

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, feeling suddenly a bit more relaxed. The show could wait and if I wanted to be honest, I was impatient to smell Olivia's perfume from the paper, to see her horrible handwriting and the little hearts she always draw everywhere. It was the boost I needed before going up there to spend two hours singing songs that reminded me of her. I needed it. It became more than an habit, I was fucking addicted.

Quickly, I teared the envelop and let it fall on the floor as the scent of honey and vanilla filled my nose. I glanced up at the camera and noticed how big Julia was smiling. I hadn't told her that Olivia and I were more than friend but she had heard the whole story and somehow, she had pushed me to go back to her. I never followed her advice because I knew Olivia was with Dylan but now that it was a secret, I felt bad for lying to her. I had told her about the letters Olivia gave me but hadn't mentioned that they were filled with dirty stuff and love words, and now that she was filming, it was going to be tough answering whatever Liv had written in that note.

"Hey petal." I said in a soft tone, looking at my phone. "Last letter of yours before I fly back there! Hope you're ready for pubs and movie nights because I fucking am!" I laughed and looked down to read the purple glitter words on the pale pink paper, my face changing more and more as my eyes scanned the letter.

'Niall James Horan, I love you. I want nothing but to be with you right now. And maybe I actually am. If you look carefully, you may see me.'

I frowned and looked up at Julia who chuckled a bit. "Turn the sheet."

I did it quickly and noticed she had written something else. 'Yes, dumbass. I'm here. I took a plane to you. Now go on stage. I'll hold you in my arms as soon as your show is over.'

Julia kept filming and moved closer to me, snatching the letter from my hand and pushing me toward the stage. I tried to resist, my eyes looking around to see where she was and Julia laughed more.

"Go, Niall! You'll see her soon!"

I frowned and turned to her, my eyes getting bigger.

"You knew?" I asked in a shocked tone, making her shrug. "Wait, where is she?"

"Stage!" Julia said with her soft light voice, trying to be firm. "Now!"

I kept looking around but finally walked on stage, starting with the first song. I knew the song by heart and didn't really have to think much. It was good since all my thoughts were taken by my best friend, wondering if she was really here and if yes, when would I be able to take her in my arms. I finished the song and when I turned around, my eyes caught someone on the side of the stage. No one in the crowd could see her but when our eyes met, her lips curled more. She hadn't changed at all. She tilted her head and pressed her lips together and even though I shouldn't have, I literally ran backstage, held my guitar to the first person I saw and wrapped my arms around her neck as she wrapped hers around my chest.

"Fuck, you’re really here." I whispered, leaning my cheek on her head before kissing her hair and holding her tighter.

She chuckled but I felt her shake in my arms as if she was sobbing and she squeezed me harder, rubbing her cheek on my shirt a few times before gripping it in my back. It took her a few minutes but she finally sniffed and tried to get out of my embrace.

"You need to go back." she pointed out in a low tone, but I still heard her voice break.

"Just a few more seconds." I replied, pulling her back in my arms.

It was torture to not be able to kiss her and tell her how much I loved her but I moved my head down, bringing my lips very close to her ear.

"I fucking missed you. I can't believe you're here." I whispered, feeling my bottom lip brush against her ear. "You're the best gift I ever had."

She chuckled and pushed me away gently again, wiping a tear on her cheek and moving her chin in my direction. "Go!"

I hesitated but finally got back on stage to sing a few more songs but when I started Flicker, I couldn't help but glance at Olivia over and over again. The memories of writing this song and of the falling we had at the end of our relationship started flooding me and I suddenly felt myself tear up. I had to stop near the end of the song and just walked off stage again, going back to her. This time, I didn't even take the time to put my guitar away, I just moved it in my back in a swift movement and gripped my best friend again, pulling her against me.

"I want to kiss you." I whispered as she nuzzled my neck, feeling tears fall down my cheeks despite myself.

"Me too, Niall."

"I love you okay?" I added quickly in a low tone, my eyes closed, trying to stop crying. "I love you and that song is so fucking tough to sing."

I heard her swallow hard and she brushed her nose on my neck. "I'm here now. I'm back. And I'm not leaving."

"I'm not leaving either. Never again."

                                                ----

We ended up backstage after the show and all grabbed a beer. Olivia was laughing with Julia a bit afar and I couldn't take my eyes off her. I wasn't even aware that these two actually talked to each other but watching them interact made me feel good for a reason I ignored. Perhaps, the fact that Olivia was ready to get to know more of my friends made this whole thing easier. Back then, she only really hung out with Louis or the people we hung out with before I was famous. She never really showed interest in meeting my other friends or hanging out with people I met as a singer and even if I understood she didn't feel at ease, it still made me sad.

They both turned to me and looked back at each other before laughing together and I suddenly got curious. I got up and walked to them, bending slightly between them and raising my eyebrows.

"You guys are talking about me?"

"Were we?" Julia asked with a frown, a big smile still gracing her lips and a dimple digging in her cheek.

"We were talking about how incredible Julia had been. She was so discreet you didn't see it coming." Olivia replied, turning to me and sending me a smile, too. "I think she's officially my favorite friend of yours, now."

I looked at Liv as she turned to Julia again and they both laughed some more. It was horrible that I couldn't just grab her and kiss her but I still moved my arm around her waist and I could have sworn her smile got bigger.

"Yea, well done." I admitted, shaking my head. "And now I have two free weeks and we can spend it here. What do you say?"

"I only have a few days, Nee, I'm sorry." she admitted, her facial expression turning into a guilty one. "But I can join you in France when you start your tour again? I asked that week to go see my parents."

My eyes roamed on her face and I felt something break inside me. It took me half a second to take a decision.

"I'll just go back to Cali with you." I let out in a low voice, moving a bit closer to her. "Maybe I can go to one of your filming days?"

Her lips curled and she glanced at Julia, making me suddenly remember that we were not alone. I turned to Julia too and saw her try to hide a smile by pressing her lips hard together. She turned around and walked away to go talk to someone else and I turned back to Liv, raising my nose up in a grimace.

"Oops, sorry." I whispered, holding my breath. "You think she knows?"

"If she's not completely stupid yea. I mean, the girl has two functioning eyes and two clearly great ears, if I trust the way she sings. So yea, she knows." Olivia pointed out with a chuckle.

"You're not mad?"

She tilted her head as she stared at me, her amused smile turning quickly into a fond one. I felt my palm burn on her back, over her shirt, and she sighed low.

"Niall, I think it's time you bring me back to your hotel room, what do you say?"

I didn't have a hotel room. In fact, I was ready to leave right after the show to catch my plane but now that plans had changed, I had to think about something, and there was no way I was going back to sleep at my parents'.

"I'll find one."

I quickly grabbed my phone in my pocket and called the hotel I stayed in the night before to reserve a room. I sighed in relief when I found out they weren't all taken and finally hung up and turned back to her.

"Done."

Her lips curled and she nodded and quickly, we said our goodbyes to everyone. No one insisted that we stayed or followed them to a bar and we just took a cab and left. She didn't kiss me until the hotel room's door closed behind us and I didn't try to force anything, but I couldn't pretend the whole ride was not painful.

Her mouth crashed on mine after she dropped her bags and I finally let mine fall too as she deepened the kiss. I could feel her smile against my lips and chuckled, bringing both my hands to her back and slipped them under her shirt.

"Watching the nudes you send while I jerk off every fooking night isn't enough." I admitted, trailing kisses quickly down her neck. "I want to bring you with me for the rest of the tour, I miss your body too much."

She giggled like a school girl and it made me smile more. "You want me to follow you everywhere so you can use me whenever you need a good fuck?"

"Yes, petal." I admitted in a whisper after letting out a groan. "How much would you like to be my little cum dump? How much do you want me to just grab your hair and fuck your fanny until I cum every fucking time I need it?"

"Mm, someone is in serious need of a good fuck." she pointed out, running her hand on my cock, over my pants. "You're being very nasty."

"You love it, don't even pretend otherwise."

She chuckled against my mouth and quickly worked on my pants. I unbuttoned hers and slipped my hand in her panties, making her head fall back slightly and her eyes flutter.

"You like that, princess?" I asked, brushing my lips on her jaw and neck. "I really need to fuck you hard and fast. You're so wet I'm sure you can cum fast, yeah?"

"Too horny for love making tonight, I see." she whispered with a smile, making me groan again.

"If you want me to make love to you petal, I will." I groaned low. "That shows how much I love you because I'm so fucking horny I don't really want to go slow."

She pulled away slightly and her eyes met mine. She tilted her head and stared at me for a few seconds before licking her lips.

"Fuck me hard and fast, then." she proposed. "We got all night anyway, yea?"

"Pet, if you allow me to fuck you 10 times tonight I fucking will."

She started laughing and I shut her up by pressing my lips against hers and immediately deepening the kiss. I loved the taste of her tongue and when she grabbed mine to suck on it, I slipped a finger inside her and started rubbing my thumb slowly on her clit. She moaned in my mouth and I felt her body tense, making me smile more.

"Apparently, I'm not the only one who needs a proper fuck."

It took us less than a minute to get naked and when I sat on the bed, she quickly straddled me and sat on my cock. I wrapped my arms around her as she let out a low whimper, closing her eyes. I grabbed her hair from behind and pulled on it, making her moan again as I brought my hand between us right after licking my thumb. I pressed it on her clit and she squirmed a bit, making me hold her hair tighter.

"It feels so fucking good to be balls deep inside you, pet."

I ran my tongue on one of her breasts and felt her nipple harden against it. I loved the way her body reacted to every single one of my touches. She squirmed a bit and I groaned as I felt her throb around my cock before grabbed her other breasts hard.

"Missed your tits so much." I slapped it gently and she squirmed again. "You're so fucking horny baby you're dripping on me."

"Please Niall." she let out in a mix of a whisper and a whimper. "Let me ride you."

I stared at how fucked she looked and finally let go of her hair. Her lips pressed against mine half a second later and she started moving over me slowly at first and then harder and faster. I didn't know how long I was going to last and I breathed through my teeth before she bit my bottom lip.

"You always do that when you're really horny don't you?" I asked with a smirk, pulling my upper body back to look at her.

She sent me puppy eyes, her chin moving down as she stared at me through her eyelashes. It made me want to own her even more and be rough with her.

"I do that because I really really want you."

I let my hand run on her back and when I reached her ass, I spanked her hard enough to make her tense. Her movements faltered and she moaned low, cupping my face and kissing me deeply again.

"I'm really really close, Nee." she murmured against my mouth. "I'm about to cum all over your cock."

I already knew that. I could feel her clench hard around my dick and I pulled away slightly again to look in her eyes. There was nothing I loved more than watching her squirm over me as she came.

"Do it. Show me how good of a little slut you are." I pressed my thumb on her clit and she started moving over me again, bouncing on my cock as I rubbed her clit hard.

It took her half a minute to start shaking and I felt her nails dig in one of my shoulders. The sight of her coming undone made me reach my orgasm too and I gripped her waist harder, my fingers sinking in her skin as I spilled inside her. We both were panting messes as we came down from our highs and she leaned her forehead on my shoulder, letting out a few satisfied whimpers.

"You're mine, yeah?"

"What part of me do you want?" she asked low, running her mouth on my neck and making me smile.

"Your heart, petal." I whispered, turning my head her way, searching for her lips. "You know it,"

"Mm, you're so full of shit." she whispered with a chuckle.

I grabbed her waist and threw her on the bed as she let out a high pitched scream and I quickly moved on top of her, holding myself with my arms on each side of her head.

"I ain't lying." I pointed out, raising my eyebrows as I looked at her.

"I thought you wanted my ass." she let out, half-joking with a smile.

I stared at her for a few seconds, my smile falling slowly and breathed in before sighing.

"I already have that." I explained. "I'm just hoping you can give me your heart at some point, too."

I felt her hand reach for my face and her fingers slipped in my hair. I didn't know how long we stared at each other but after a while, her lips parted.

"My heart has been yours since I was 6 years old, Niall James Horan."

For some reason, her words made a shiver cross my back and I quivered slightly over her. I glanced at her lips and slowly, I moved down and kissed her. I didn't know what I could answer to that so I just remained silent. She moved her knees up, trapping my body between them, and I knew we both felt safe in our happy bubble. It was my favorite place : with her.

"You think everyone knows we left to go fuck?" she asked, making me chuckle.

"I mean, they think we're just friends right?"

Olivia grimaced and I laughed more at how cute it was to see her button nose move up childishly.

"No one ever really thought we were friends, I mean, even your parents made a bet."

It was my turn to grimace. "Please, don't remind me."

"I'm glad I messaged Julia. I was a bit jealous of her before I started talking to her. I mean she spends all her time with you and I know you two are close."

I raised my eyebrows in surprise. I didn't think she could feel threatened by Julia.

"Says the girl who literally gets rides from her ex fiance after acting as his girlfriend all day!"

"Touché." she laughed. "But there's really nothing between Dylan and I anymore."

My eyes roamed on her face and I sighed. "I love you, Liv, but we both know that's not true." i just said, making her frown slightly. "Of course you still have feelings for him. I wouldn't expect you to just forget about it after a few weeks. And he probably loves you too. And I would lie if I said it doesn't stress me from time to time, especially late at night when I'm waiting for your call."

I thought about the song I had started writing which was once again, about her. It was once again about how much I loved her, but it was also about how painful it was not to know what we were and how she felt. It was about how easily she could hurt me and that if it was the only thing she was able to give me, that I wanted it anyway. It was about how I was all hers and that I was not sure she really was mine. I didn't want to sing it to her, because I didn't want her to feel guilty about the feelings inside me, but I had to write about it, if only to evacuate the pain from my body and mind. She didn't even know how hurt I was sometimes, it didn't even cross her mind, I knew it.

She sent me a fond smile and my heart melted again. I could have moved to lie down next to her but I didn't want to. I wanted our bodies pressed together. They had been away from each other for so long and it was insane how much my skin missed her skin.

"Nothing to worry about. I always think about you."

I smiled. "Nothing to worry about when it comes to Julia either. Or any other woman. Or men. Anyone. My mind, heart and soul are with you 24/7."

"And your body?" she asked with an amused smile.

"Right now it's with you, too. So you've got all of me."

We remained silent for a while, just looking at each other. I focused on the way her body felt beneath mine, and on how well it fitted with mine, like two pieces of a puzzle, and even if I knew it was cheesy, I knew we formed a complete puzzle, me and her. The more time I spent with her, the more I had hope that we would be together again. Officially and forever.

"What are we gonna do tomorrow?" she asked in a low voice.

"Go back to Mullingar and fuck. Pretend we're not famous. Meet with old friends. Go to a pub and fuck. Go see my mom. Fuck. Get a hotel room and fuck again."

She laughed, moving her chin up and closing her eyes, and it made me smile.

"Alright, but just to make sure, are we gonna fuck?" she asked jokingly, making me smirk.

"Yes."

She laughed again and I shut her up by pressing my lips against hers. I didn't want to think about being away from her again. I didn't want this distance thing to become something normal between us. There was no way I could ever get used to being far away from her for weeks. I also knew it was meant to happen again and it made something stir in my stomach but I tried to push the thought away.

"Good plan?" I asked, my lips brushing against hers as I talked before she nodded. "Perfect, Now let's fuck again."

[thewolfisapartofmysoul]

Hey lovelies,

I wrote another Dewey Finn x reader fanfic.

The reader is really insecure and of course our Dewey is the sweet jellybean to help her out and calm her down. Fluff is on the way. Hope you guys enjoy.

Pretty odd.

You tiptoed to your secret new hobby.

Well... you hoped none of your neigbours noticed it yet. You would be so embarrassed you might have to move if anyone found out.

You recently started to learn how to play ukelele. The instrument was small, fun, bouncy, upbeat, and a bit odd. Like yourself.

If only you had some more courage... you felt insecure about a lot of things. Daily. Your new hobby wasnt an exception.... Especially since Dewey-'rock-god'-Finn lived at the appartement above your own.

You sighed thinking about Dewey... he was just... perfect.

Too perfect for someone like you. Secretly you'd been crushing on him the moment he moved in.

He played the guitar like it was as easy as breathing. With 101% chill. It was listening to Dewey that had put the idea in your head in the first place, the sound of his voice humming and the different tunes calmed your anxious mind. Not that he knew all that. Pfeww. Hell no. You would be suprised if he'd even remember your name.

You checked the time as you took your chord-book and your ukulele to the balcony.

It was friday. Meaning there was a 80% chance most of your neigbours were at the bar, welcoming the weekend. Which ment: less-anxcious playing time for you, since you could practice in piece.

You walked over to your balcony. The cool summer breeze welcoming you as you opened the door. You peeked upstairs to Deweys appartment, luckely there was no light to be seen. You havent heard him around today. He was probably at school or preparing some gig, you figured. Smiling to yourself as you imagined Dewey Finn rocking out on some stage in a bar. He got so excited as he played, joy practically radiating off him.

A little while back he asked if you wanted to check out his band, as they had to play at the local bar two blocks away. You gathered all your courage and said yes to that. You werent the bar-type. Or going-out type. But you were glad you did that night. The memory of Dewey on stage made your heart tingle again and you couldnt supress a smile forming on your lips.

The breeze on the balcony snapped you back to reality. As you were lost in thoughts you forgot your mission to come here in the first place. You took a seat, placed your ukelele gingerly on your lap and glanced around one last time to make sure u were alone. Then you started your first chord.

-----

Dewey jolted upright from the slumber he was in. He'd had a long week at school, teaching the kids and was planning to go the bar tonight. He glanced at the time... could still work. It wasnt that late. He stood up from the couch and glanced around the room, looking for his jacket. Then he remembered he left it outside, after brainstorming for some new songs on the balcony last night. He ruffled his hair, trying to get the sleep out of his head as he walked to the door of his balcony.

-----

You started to get the hang of it. Your fingers moving slightly faster and more secure then a few minutes before. Still sounded like a beginner. But... less a beginner then 20 minutes ago.

As your fingers struggled to do what your head wanted, you paused and checked your chord-book again. You smiled, your eyes finding the needed chord. Your fingers moved again to make the chord you needed, but you winced slightly at the sound you produced. That wasn't right.

You tried again. Fingers failing you again and you sighed deeply in annoyance.

You were just about to give up for the night when you heard a deep voice above you hum: "try a G, love.... it suppost to be a G, not an Am."

FUCK. Someone heared you.

You winced, but noticed it sounded very sweet and helpfull instead of judging.

You almost dropped your ukelele as you registered who that voice belonged to. You knew even whitout looking up.

You heard a soft chuckle from upstairs, and your face flushed deep red in embarrasment. You clung on your instrument as if your life depended on it. Reminding yourself you had to breath.

Concern now seeped trough his voice as you heard him say: "Uhm... You okay down there sweetheart? I was only trying to help..."

You gathered all your courage to look up, to see the face of the man, the myth and the legend, that held the name: Dewey Finn.

The look on his face was nothing but excitement mixed with a little bit of worry. This helped you calm down your nerves a bit, and you nervously smiled at him. He beamed a genuine happy smile back.

You stuttered: "gosh... this is embarrassing... i... i am... just... i was just..."

He moved a hand trough his hair, his smile was amused but kind. God he was handsome. He helped you out by speaking: "you were... just... killing it on the ukelele?"

You stared at him in shock. Mouth slightly open. "I... i... just... i fucked up the chords... i was definetly... not killing it." you mumbled, still very self concious. Looking at the floor, stress creeping up your chest.

Dewey frowned as he noticed your anxiety... "you weren't fucking up... you are learning. That's okay. Y/n, look at me... im trying to help, okay love?"

Shocked that he knew your name you looked upwards.

"Sorry for disturbing you..." you mumbled. "You probably have better things to do..."

Dewey shouted a "wait a second y/n...!" As you heard him moving around on the balcony moving some things around. Sounded like he was looking for something.

His head popped up over the balcony again, triumphantly holding his hand up with a goofy smile on his face. Before you knew what was happening you heard him yell: "CATCH!" As you saw something falling down the balcony towards you, you grasped it quickly, right on time. When you opened your right hand you noticed it was a guitar pick. You squinted your eyes at the words written on the pick itself. Scribbled on it, in a messy handwriting it said: "stick it to the man"

You looked upwards towards Dewey again. You remembered this song. You heared him play it a couple of times right above your head, practicing it in his appartement.

He smiled at you, his hand anxiously rubbing his scruff. You beamed back at him, anxiety and worry starting to fade.

You heared him say: "Y/n... Stick it to the man... you are rocking the ukelele, okay?"

You nodded, picking up your ukelele again. "Now..." he hummed above you "try a G for me, love..."

You moved your fingers slightly against the instrument. Strumming a perfect G-chord. You chuckled softly to yourself as you heard him yell: "Whoow!!! Yeah! Rock-star to be! Crowd goes wiiiiiiiild!!! Yeahhhhh!"

Suddenly an idea bubbled up inside you: "Hey Dewey..." you called up towards your neigbour.

He replied: "Yeah this is Dewey Finn... please leave a message after te beep...."

You laughed at that. Oddball.

You ripped a sheet out of your chord-book as you scribbled something on it. Folding it in a paper plane, right before you threw it to him, you yelled: "hey... CATCH!"

After 2 missed attempts of him catching it, and you laughing your ass off during the process, he managed to get hold of the plane you threw him.

You watched his eyes go wild as he was reading what it said.

-you wanna teach me how to play the ukelele?-

"Whoow!! Hell to the yeah! Anytime babe. You free tomorrownight?"

"Depends..." you smiled to him. "Is it gonna be a private-lesson Mr. Finn?"

He beamed at you, voice low: "well... only my best students get a one-on-one session... so... if you want to play that perfect G for me again... maybe we could arrange something."

As you chuckled your trembling hands proceeded to play indeed a wobbly G-chord. "Perfect babe... told ya. Rocking the uke already... what else could a man want? Pick you up at 8, okay?"

The smile on your face never leaving your lips as you spoke to Dewey, looking upward and winking as you did so: "I cant wait... You know were i live, mr. Finn..."

"Awesome doll. Keep rocking okay? Your doing great..." Dewey said.

Later that evening you heard the door above you close, footsteps thumping on the floor above you. As you noticed someone loudly whooping, sound muffled through the closed door and the appartement floor above you.

You smiled again. God what a dork. You couldnt wait untill your date tomorrow. Feeling incredibly happy with what your new hobby had brought you so far.

[luthien-t]

The Sun Will Shine. (Chapter:2)

Summery: Thanos invaded the asgardians ship & Thor called for back up. Being a liable paramedic, you gather your tools and went to space. You end up being injured during battle but Thanos was defeated, what will you do when you find out your lover, Loki suffered more than just a few battle scars? But then again, no one is ever really gone.

Chapter Summery: You left the hospital with the news of Lokis death. The first night in the Tower seems quite until you found a book between Lokis other favorite books.

warnings: Im not entirely sure, but this is one is kinda sad. small panic attack? and swear words i think.

wordcount: 2.4K+

Getting out of the car, you breathe in and walk towards the elevator in the tower to get to your compound floor. You pressed the button on the elevator and sighed. Tony tapped his fingers against his thigh with his eyes glued on the number going up towards the floor. “We made it, safe and sound” He smiled and looked at you before walking out of the elevator. You nodded lightly and gave him a smile back, even though you felt like complete utter shit, Tony has helped you the past two days ever since Thor walked out from that hospital room, he has been kind to you and it didn’t feel as lonely as you expected it to be. 

“Tony, Thank-“ 

“ah ah ah, no need to thank me, we’re a family, we will always look after each other!” He gave your shoulder a soft pat and angled his head towards the kitchen. “They’ve made food, join us?” He said with hope in eyes, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say yes. Ever since you received the news, you wanted nothing but to be alone. So, you shook your head. He frowned and then nodded his head. “We’ll leave your food in the microwave for later, get some rest, y/n” And with that he walked towards the kitchen.

You sighed and slowly walked towards your shared bedroom with Loki. Once you’ve reached the door, your hands began to tremble and your breathing was getting heavier. The closer your hand got to the knob, the more it trembled and with a deep breath you open the door and scan the room quickly before covering your mouth and closing the door behind you. 

You shut your eyes, maybe if you keep them closed you won’t cry, you lean against the door. It was getting harder to calm down when every time you breathe in you also inhale his scent. 

“Why did you have to fucking leave me?” You curse at the empty room.

Silence. 

Silence was all you have now in this room. No more morning kisses, no more late night cuddles, no more arguing, no more Loki.

You sniff as you walk around, trying to adjust with this wide space. The chambers were always fit for one person, it was just a bed, a couch for two, a walk in closet, a desk & a bathroom. But now it felt like it was too big, too empty. 

Looking around at the mini library you installed and smile through the tears, not being able to see; you caressed the books softly and then sat down on the desk, looking out the window.

When Loki first came to the compound, it was difficult for both him and the rest of the team.

Your first encounter with the God of Mischief was during a meeting before a small mission about a random Hydra base.

“What is he doing here?” You said, venom dripping from your words.

“Darling, I’m asking the same question myself. What am I doing here?” He smirked at you, scanning your reaction. It always felt like he could see through you. “Lady y/n! I see you met my brother Loki!” He smiled wide. “Adopted.” Loki budged in, with a finger pointed up. You nodded slowly and looked between the two brothers before going to your seat next to Nat. Loki however, kept his eyes on you almost the entire meeting, every time you look back at him, he pretends to be looking at something else. 

You stare at the buildings and the glowing lights in each one as you replay your memories in your head. The tears never stopped, it was hard to believe that the man you love is no longer here to hold you. A knock made you turn your body towards the door. “Can I come in?” It was Wanda. You sniff and shrug.

“I don’t have the energy for anything, so do what you want.” And with that you turn your back to her and stare out the window. She sat down next to you and rested her hand on your knee, looking at you. “When I lost Pietro, I felt the same. Like a piece of me died” She looked out the window, giving you privacy when she noticed how your brows furrowed and your eyes swelling with tears again. 

“I’m not saying that you are going to move on, but-“ you shook your head and rested your head on her shoulder. “I don’t need words, Wanda. I need him back.”

“In Romania, we believe that death is just the second step, wherever he is, y/n. I believe that he is okay” she whispered softly. 

You replied with a sniff as your body shook. She wrapped her arm around you as she slowly swayed you both. “Sleep in my room tonight?” You look up at her, unable to process that the bed is going to be empty without Loki, you saw her stare at the view, maybe she was thinking about how to turn down your offer or tell you that you have to do this on your own, but she then responded with a soft smile and a nod. “Okay, I’ll go change quickly and get you something to eat” She unwrapped her arms and got up to leave the room.

You get off the desk and roam around the room, grabbing a random book from Lokis side, it was dusty; Which is odd, considering Loki cared for his books too much to allow a single spec of dust. You scanned the book then looked at the others, this was the only one dusty, as if it wasn’t touched for ages. You open the book and realize that it is actually a journal. Lokis had a journal? The words were written in his handwriting. You start reading the first three words and your heart beats faster. 

If I die, my love.

You look around the room, biting your lips. Closing the book and reopening it to the same words, maybe you were imagining things, you told yourself. Maybe it’s just a poem, but as you read a few more words. 

If I die, do not believe them. I am here, near.

Waiting for you. 

You know me like no other, my love. I always have my plans and tricks against the titan.

Your throat feels dry and you sit on the bed, looking at the door as Wanda walked in with her pillow & a tray of food, her smile dropping when she noticed your face was drained of color and your mouth open.

“What is it?” She approached you slowly.

“He’s not dead.” You look up at her. 

“Loki? Did you see him?” You shook your head and pointed at the book. 

She eyed you and then looked at the book. “y/n…” She sat down on the bed in front of you. “No, Wanda listen to me” You read her the words and she nodded slowly. 

“I’m sorry but, but this doesn’t mean anything.” She said as she twirled a finger around a strand of her, a habit she tends to do when she’s nervous, you notice and nod. 

“You’re right, I’m making a big deal, it’s probably just a poem.” You say, sarcastically. “A poem that somehow talks about him dying and mentions of Thanos!”

She sighed and closed her eyes. “Y/n, please don’t overwork yourself now, you need to rest. If Loki is planning on messing with you now, at least allow it when you’re healthy” She frowned and put a hand on the book, you look down at her hand and then back up at her, nodding “You’re right, I’m sorry” You close the book and put it on your night stand then pull the tray towards you. “Thank you, Wanda” She smiles at you and moves to sit next to you on the bed before turning on Netflix. “Anything for my sister” Now it was your turn to smile.

You spent the rest of the night watching Netflix, Nat came by to check up on you and decided to join you two, the night was filled with binge-watching & jokes about dumb scenes in the movies. You ended up falling asleep halfway through the fourth movie.

Your sleep was interrupted by a soft thud next to you, slowly opening your eyes and turn your head towards the sound, raising an eyebrow when you find it to be the journal. Looking back at Wanda & Nat then back at the book, you slowly sat up and grabbed it, not wanting to wake them up. You then got out of bed and walked out of your room towards the balcony in the living room, it was dark & quiet, not a single soul was awake. 3:43AM. You noticed the time and sat down on the chair, staring at the buildings again, your heart beating faster when you opened the book, too scared to read the words again, as if it’ll disappear and the small grain of hope you have will extinguish. 

You push yourself to look down at the page & reread the same words again, sighing in relief as you continued to read, leaning back down on the chair with your legs up on the table. 

If I die, my love.

If I die, do not believe them. I am here, near.

Waiting for you. 

You know me like no other, my love. I always have other plans and tricks against the titan. 

I always knew that he would be defeated, the titan was driven by his own imagination that he lost his grip on reality. 

Now tell me, my love. Do you remember the list we had about the places I have promised to take you to? It’s where I wait. 

You flip the page, furrowing your eyebrows. Of course you remember that list, he made you write down every place you wanted to visit so that he can take you there himself. You bite your lips, you don't know where he put that paper, you wrote it almost a year ago. That list had over 50 places written on it, he could be anywhere. “What are you doing to me, Loki?” You whisper to yourself. This was starting to feel like it’s some stupid treasure hunt and you were growing frustrated the more you read. It was filled with numbers and codes. 

You sigh and close the journal, your feet leading you to Thors room. Hesitant, you knock on the door softly. You give it a few more seconds. There was no response so you walk away, and as you took a sharp turn towards your room, you bump into someone. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there” You say.

“y/n.” It was Thor. You look up at him and smile slightly, “Can’t sleep?” You say and notice the drink in his hand, frowning slightly, he just shuffled in his place and gave you a stiff nod.

“I want to apologize for my behaviour back in the hos-“ 

“Thor, it’s okay. But we need to talk- it's about your brother” You hand him the book and he raises an eyebrow slightly before walking towards the living room. “What is this about?” He said as he sat down, knowing that you followed him to the living room. 

“He’s not… you know” You sit down next to him and point at the book. He chuckled and looked at you only to stop when he noticed the serious look on your face and cleared his throat. He set the book down on the table, staring at it, waiting for something to happen to it. “This is his journal Thor.” You say with an annoyed tone before you could stop yourself. You know Loki always loved to mess around with Thor when they were kids, so you knew he was probably expecting Loki to jump out of the book or something. 

“Yeah of course, why- why would the journal be Loki? That’s not what I thought” He said with his voice slightly a pitch higher & laughed softly. “How do you know he is not dead?” His tone changed to serious and he set the drink on the table next to it. You ran a hand through your hair and shrug. “It’s as if he’s telling me where he is hiding, but it’s just filled with riddles and numbers and I need help translating some words.” You look at him, hoping that he would understand what you’re asking from him without having to say what it is that you want. He shook his head softly and leaned back on the couch, opening the book and reading it. 

“Those letters and runes are in Juton, I cant speak Jotun…” He looks at you quickly before looking back and flipped the pages quickly, scanning some words with his eyes before shutting the book. “Look, Loki is… Well, if he really wanted you to find him, he wouldn’-“ Your groan stops him. “Thor, please, even if I’m wrong in this, I just want to know” You shrug “What do I have to lose?” He stares at the drink ahead of him and nods gently. “I’m sorry but I can’t help you with this, it seems as if he is making this harder for the both of us, since I cant understand a single word he wrote. Both Juton and english, he is asking you to find him, not me” You can hear the hurt in his words and nod, apologising for this conversation. 

Thor is mourning his brothers loss and you’re over here trying to force him to do something he can’t do. But you are determined on understanding every word Loki wrote in this journal, with or without anyones help. You excused yourself and went to your room, slowly walking in and looked around, you looked at the girls and smiled softly and then walked towards your closet, grabbing as many clothes as you can and quietly put them in a bag and then went to the desk, you took half of Lokis books and put them in the bag and then softly laid on the bed, scrolling through your phone for apartments for rent. 

Tomorrow, you were planning on leaving this Tower to understand whatever is going on around you. You love everyone in this Tower and they all mean so much to you but you want to be alone and it feels like this is the only way to achieve it. 

[alwaysanotherrainbow]

my boyfriend never texts first

Remus just wants to not be the first one to send a message every once in a while. That’s not too much to ask, right?

relationship: romantic remrom, background remy and emile (also romantic)

warnings: major character death, extended mourning (secondary warnings- brief discussion of religious holidays, brief underage drinking mention, a lot of all-caps) notes: unrelated, human, hs/college au. virgil, emile, and remy are here too. If you need anything in the secondary warnings (or one of those latter three characters) edited out, please let me know and I can put that up for you!

____________________________________________________

Remus always texted him first. Always. It didn’t matter the situation, didn’t matter the time date place name face. Who what when where why. It first started when he texted hi roman :) when they first got phones; for whatever reason, Roman just never texted first. Either he’d call or they’d talk in person.

No matter. Remus could cope.

May 1:

8:37 PM tody i saw you by my locker 8:39 PM *today 8:42 PM why didnt you say hi?

May 2:

9:30 PM a teacher talked to me today 9:30 PM wanted to talk about how i’m doing after 9:52 PM well you know. he’s a sick bastard

Really, it wasn’t too much to ask for, was it? He just wanted to see him text first once in a while! May 7:

3:32 PM: by the way idk if you got this last time 3:36 PM: my class ring size is the medium 3:44 PM: hopefully you order it by the deadline :P 4:03 PM: no idea when the deadline is 4:20 PM: bLAZE IT 4:24 PM: sorry i have like 0 money so i got it from the consignment shop 4:31 PM: i hope you like synthetic rubies!! leaving them with ur dad 10:40 PM: update. i cried for four hours with your dad.

June 2:

7:30 AM: gRaDuAtIoN dAy!!! 7:32 AM: there’s cookies in the reception menu 7:35 AM: snickerdoodles your favorite [eyes] 10:02 AM: i’m getting some for u 10:05 AM: [kissy face] 7:40 PM: the announcement was Weird 7:43 PM: anyways i have the snickerdoodles (Remus couldn’t go over to where Roman was staying, so he left them in the living room. He knew Roman would appreciate them. Hopefully he’d come over (wait, probably not, given...))

Well, actually, he could understand why he never texted first. June 11:

12:14 PM: roMAN 12:16 PM: [Attachment: Remus_Picani-Kleitman_Acceptance_Letter.pdf] 12:18 PM: YEAHHHH 12:24 PM: I’m sure you got in too SEND ME YOURS WHEN YOU GET IT 12:32 PM: WE MIGHT SHARE A ROOM YEA 12:35 PM: [Attachment: celebration.jpg]

Everyone was probably saying that he ought to just move on, but to be honest, he couldn’t... Actually, to be honest, no-one had told him to move on to his face yet. In fact, everyone was surprised he was doing so well, given how bad the circumstances were! The situation was stressing him out so much, even his dads were gently advising him to rethink things. (Well, that was part of the territory with one of them being a therapist and the other being a barista.)

“I got y’all some kouign-amann from the cafe,” said Dad, putting it down on the counter. His shirt had SLEEP scrawled on it with a Sharpie; it was the one that Remus had made for him as a joke. He still wore it. Huh.

“Sweetie, what’s a queen amahn?” asked Papa.

“It’s a... er, it’s like a... this is kinda like a croissant that had dreams of a muffin tin and salted caramel. One for you, babe.... then one for Doodlebug-”

“Can I leave some for Roman?” asked Remus.

They exchanged a glance.

“Of course you can,” said Papa with a smile. “Your candle’s on the table. Also, I got the news about being accepted into university? Good job, kiddo. You know, that was your father’s alma mater.”

“Are you sure you want to go to school right away after...? No problem taking a gap year.”

Papa glared at Dad. “Be nice.”

“I’m sorry, Remus, it’s just...” Dad put down his coffee. “If you’re not ready, if you need more time-”

"I’m sure,” said Remus with a grin, trying to get rid of what he just remembered. “Trust me.”

“Please find a good way to put away the snickerdoodles, they’ve been there since last week!” shouted Papa.

June 12:

12:12 AM: its twelve twelve make a wish 12:15 AM: hey when does your phone bill go out? 12:20 AM: im just saying that would Explain some things 12:22 AM: i know your dad pays Everything like a year in advance 12:34 AM: tell him i say hi 12:34 AM: 12:34 MAKE A WISH

July 12:

3:30 PM: guess who’s a double major in bio and theatre!! 3:32 PM: marine biology babey 3:53 PM: it’s good for the SOUL 4:04 PM: this cute octopus reminded me of you by the way 4:10 PM: [Attachment: for_roman]

August 14:

6:24 PM: moving in is the Worst 6:32 PM: by the way i got a single 6:35 PM: no roommates 6:41 PM: still have the bunk tho 6:44 PM: also got ur favorite pillo

August 30:

2:12 AM: roman it is like two o’clock in the morning what the Heck are you doing here, 2:15 AM: if u see me wave Hi 2:32 AM: ok >:c 2:42 AM: dont mind Me just studyin on top of the planetarium 3:15 AM: tbh i didn’t even know we go to the same campus? haven’t seen you around or anything 3:17 AM: shit phones gonna di

September 28:

2:20 PM: i failed my test 2:22 PM: idk what to d 2:24 PM: *do

September 29: 7:30 PM: remember that octopus you gave me that eats negative emotions? 7:32 PM: it works!!

October 3:

1:10 PM:  You’d like the theatre program, really 1:15 PM: just so u know they’ve listed your name as an ‘honorary member of the class of’ 1:19 PM: that’s really nice of them. idk if your dad knows

October 23:

9:45 AM: i had to explain one of our inside jokes 8( 9:52 AM: i can’t Explain the deodorant thing that was One Time 9:55 AM: also why i’m called The Duke 9:56 AM: its bc you said it. not my fault 9:58 AM: its still cute pls call me that still 9:59 AM: pancake brunch pancake brunch pancake brunch October 31: 6:12 PM: sun’s down! joyous samhain 6:15 PM: i remember when you sewed me that octopus btw, the one that eats ucky feelings 6:19 PM: how long did it take you to get the laurel sachet into it?? 6:34 PM: also thank you thank you thank you for helping me find a friendly church to celebrate all saints day 6:47 PM: that year was a NIGHTMARE because you forgot to get your white candles and carnelian, and i forgot my holy water, so we were driving around town like Madmen 6:59 PM: it was worth it though 7:03 PM: i left you a script, i think you’ll like it.

November 9:

11:19 PM: i miss you so so much.

November 10:

12:20 AM: ignor this i drank like 12:24 AM: a lot 1:15 AM: i’m sorry i should’ve been with you 1:22 AM: i shouldve been there With You. 1:45 AM: but i wasn’t 2:20 AM: i didn’t know thered be a 4:11 PM: shit i just saw these. Sorry to bother you December 2:

10:10 AM: hey roman, been a bit. yea sorry about last time. too much of the Alcohol 10:13 AM: gonna go over to my parents’ house 1:00 PM: if you wanna come over, you can. dad’s making snickerdoodles and papa’s gonna watch atla (yes i still have that dvd you got me do not @ me it’s with your candles on your table just like everything else) 1:03 PM: that was on the dot, i’m happy.

December 21

8:34 AM: hey, it’s snowing 9:13 AM: couldn’t help leaving you some hot cocoa. and snickerdoodles of course 10:12 AM: i love you Remus went to go help his dads with making breakfast, but by the time everyone was done cleaning and they had finished watching some shitty Hallmark movie, he remembered that he had left his phone upstairs. Going upstairs and looking at it, he felt something in him break.

[2 Unread: Roman <3, bf’s dad]

10:22 AM, Roman <3: Why are you texting this number? 11:15 AM, bf’s dad: Remus, disregard that last, I’m so sorry. I just found his phone and I saw only the recent message first

The phone started ringing. Remus answered it as quickly as he could.

“I’m so sorry Mr. Sanders I didn’t know that someone was actually getting these messages I thought the line was out,” he said within a few seconds before the person on the other side sighed.

“No, it’s quite all right. And Virgil’s all right, by the way, if you prefer. I... I was just looking through his things for the first time. You know, it being a holiday and all... Memories, things like that.”

“Yeah, I understand.”

“I just turned the phone back on, I’m getting a lot of messages.”

“Oh.” Remus stared at the wall, trying to come to terms with everything. “Well, I--”

“I’m not going to stop paying for his phone. I’m sorry, I just... I still have his voicemails on it, and I can’t stand the thought of it going offline either.”

“Right, I... I listen to it too.”

“I happened upon the last one he sent to you.”

“You looked at the messages?”

“I only looked over when I stopped getting new ones, but I saw the last question he sent you. For your ring size.”

“Yeah? He asked my ring size so that he could--”

“There’s no easy way to say this, but.. I found something of his. Can you come over?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t, but can you please tell me what it was? Please?”

“I really think I should tell you this in person.”

“Please, Mr. Sanders. Please, I... I can’t manage that.”

He sighed. “All right, Remus. I found an early acceptance letter to SJAU, and... and a ringbox.”

Remus felt his grasp on the phone grow weak. It fell onto the bed, Mr. Sanders’ voice still clear.

“I think he was going to ask for you to....”

“No, we... We were just out of high school, I-- that doesn’t make sense.”

“He always was one for those romantic gestures. There’s some poems here, too. A life-plan. I’m not sure exactly what malacology is, but--”

“Mollusks. Like octopi and squids.. Sorry for cutting you off, what was that?”

“Some of it’s in your handwriting, but one of the entries is ‘ask him’, for the day after... you know.”

God, he could hear his sad smile through the phone. He knew exactly how Mr. Sanders looked right now just talking to him, probably wearing that hoodie that was too big on him, in a dusty room full of things that used to belong to the most vibrant person that Remus had ever met.

But then Roman had died.

He was the most wonderful person, and he had just died.

“I’ll come over to deliver the ring to you. Is that okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s... that’s fine. Uh, call my dads first, though. They’re still not convinced I’m doing okay.”

“I understand. I’ll talk to you later, Remus.”

“Thank you, Mr. Sanders.”

The line went dead in his hands.

Remus held himself and wept.

December 28:

12:30 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: Mr. Sanders, would you like to come over for our New Year’s party? 12:34 PM, Remus Picani-Kleitman: It’s a tradition we had. You don’t have to if you’d rather not. 12:45 PM, Virgil Sanders: I’d love to go.

January 1:

12:00 AM: HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!! 12:05 AM: [Attachment: :)] 12:07 AM: we are all smiling in this photo and for that i think we deserve a hug. 12:10 AM: this rings the most beuatifl thing i’ve ever fuckign seen. thank you,, 12:14 AM: never gonna get rid of it <3 12:16 AM: it looks Good on my finger 12:30 AM: jsyk your dad’s asking my dads for the kouign amann recipe 12:32 AM: thats a pastry, i left those for u a while back 12:39 AM: okay i’m crying a bit but honestly, i love u 12:44 AM: I love you so so so much, Roman

Somewhere out there, whether it was from some wonderful paradise or beyond the veil or even only in wishful thoughts, Remus knew that someone was saying I love you too.

[brushes-of-sage]

Alchemy. It was the only thing that was uniting the princes of Arendelle. While a door had separated the two brothers for the past five years, Hugo found a way to still stay connected to his brother. It all started three years ago, when Hugo realized he was running out of things to do. Oh sure, there were plenty of things in the castle, but that number reduces *significantly* when you realize there’s no one to do these things with you. So, Hugo decided to take up alchemy again. (1/?)

Alright lemme try to see if the keep reading works:

He had stopped working with alchemy when Varian had disappeared behind that cursed door, since alchemy was just another painful reminder of the brother he felt he lost. It was one of the brothers' favorite things to do, along with… along with... well, Hugo couldn’t really remember. The more he tried thinking about things he did with his brother that wasn’t alchemy, he got nothing, just laughter and a small headache. But, the number of things to occupy his time were getting thin.

So, he decided to give alchemy a try. This turned out to be a great decision. Not only did it serve as a distraction, but it served as something to keep his mind going. This distraction worked well for a few weeks until he hit a roadblock. He was trying to perfect an alchemical ice bomb that he had started when he was younger, but could never finish. But nothing seemed to be working. After staring at his disaster of a note pile for the better part of an hour, a little voice in his head said,

“You could go to Varian for help”

“No,” he snapped back, “If Varian wanted to help me or be there for me, he would leave his room. Clearly he doesn’t want to talk to me, or anyone for that matter.” Hugo didn’t want to admit it, but he was starting to get a bit mad at Varian. They were the best of brothers for years, and then just one day, Varian just shuts himself in his room, without a single word as to why. He laid his head on his desk and sighed. “Ah, who am I kidding? I’m going crazy just sitting here, I need to talk to someone, even if its nothing more than alchemy notes.”He gets up, grabs his notes, and starts to make his way to a door he passed by and stared at a million times before. On the way though, his mind is going through a back and forth battle: He wont wanna talk to you! Yes, he does, we havent spoken in forever! I wonder why? Besides its just some alchemy help, I’m not asking anything too extreme! All he has to do is fix a couple equations! What if he tears it up and ignores it, just like he has you these past few years? After this comment, Hugo ended up backtracking back to his room. He’d go tomorrow. Right?

Wrong. It took him three weeks before he found himself staring at the door that plagued his existence for two years now. He raised his hand to knock, and before he could back out, knocked twice and slid the notes through the crack under the door. He started anxiously pacing, his mind going back to the constant battle in his mind that had been raging for the past 3 weeks. After a couple minutes of pacing, Hugo was just about to leave when he heard 2 knocks, and paper slide back under the crack. Instantly, the flurry of anxious thoughts started up again, worrying it would come back blank or with a note saying Varian wouldn't help him. His hands shook as he opened the notes to reveal.. the completed solution. He read the solution 2 3 4 times before a huge smile spread across his face and he laughed a huge genuine laugh he hadn’t used in two years. These notes meant 2 big things: One, he finally had a solution to an alchemy problem he’d had since he was nine. And two, the more important one in Hugo’s opinion, is that his brother doesn’t hate him. That scary thought had crossed his mind multiple times and he had always quickly shot it down, but there was always that one tiny voice who would always say, “But, does he though?” Now, that voice was as good as dead. Varian didn’t hate him. He wasn’t giving him the *total* silent treatment. Maybe he could work up from here, have conversations through the door, send notes, maybe even ask why he was doing any of this in the first place.Just as he’s about to leave for his lab to finish the ice bombs with the now completed formula, Hugo heard two knocks on the door and stopped. He wasn’t expecting anything else. He looked at the bottom of the door and saw a small stack of papers slide under and he picked them up. It was a stack of alchemy notes titled “Melting Bomb” The notes were full of blank spaces and question marks and there was a note attached that said:

Hugo-Please assist me in completing this formula for a melting alchemy bomb. I have been on and off of this project for the past few years, and some assistance would be much appreciated. Thank you.-Varian

As excited as Hugo was that his brother was reaching out to him, and actively looking for his help, he couldn’t help but feel a bit…disappointed at the formality of the note. As if Hugo were some stranger that Varian had just met and had to put up formalities and not his own brother. Nevertheless, he shouts a quick “Be right back!” and dashes off to his room to grab a quill and inkwell. While he runs, he reads over the notes and finds the answer fairly quickly. It wasn’t all that hard, it just was in desperate need of a fresh set of eyes. He scribbled down the answers as quick as possible, not wanting to keep Varian waiting. He runs back to Varians room, knocks 2 times and slips the notes under the door. After a couple of minutes, he hears a soft gasp, the quick scratching of a quill, and a new note being shoved under the door. Hugo picked up the note and stared at the messy handwriting and smiled. This was the big brother he remembered. Thanks for the help! Now go work on your project! This went on for the next few months with notes. Sometimes it wasn't just alchemy they talked about. It started simple, like “How’s your day going” and things like that.

Then it slowly evolved to things like “Get some rest Haristripe” and “You haven’t eaten yet today have you, Hugo?” (Both weren’t exactly the best at self care, especially when they were caught up in their work). The day Hugo finally heard Varian talk was one of the best days of his life. Obviously, he had heard his brother talk before, but it had been years since they had spoken, and as the time passed, Hugo’s memories of Varian’s voice faded. Plus, with the time passing, he knew his voice would have changed. So, when Varian finally said a soft “Thank you”, Hugo’s face lit up with a huge smile. He didn’t talk much, but when he did, Hugo treasured every word he said, committing them to memory. For a while, things were going great. Until one fateful day, when Hugo pushed his luck just a *bit* more than he probably should have. The day started out normal enough, Hugo worked on some experiments he didn’t finish last night, ate some lunch, and then after lunch he grabbed his notes that needed Varian’s help, and started making his way to his room. However, on the way, he realized that as happy as he was to be able to talk to Varian, it didn’t feel *right*. A relationship based solely on notes slipped under a door and minimal verbal talking felt like a false one. What Hugo wanted to know more than anything, was *why*. Why had Varian shut him and the rest of the world out? If it was so necessary, why hadn’t he at least attempted some form of contact? This one word question had plagued Hugo’s mind ever since the door had closed, and he had never really had the confidence to ask it: until now.

So, he went back to his room and wrote out a letter. It was simple, a little more formal than usual, but to the point. It read: Varian- We’ve been talking with each other for a while now, and I feel we are at a point where I can ask this question: Why? Why have you locked yourself in your room and away from the rest of the world? Was it something I did? You can answer as vaguely or specifically as you like, I just would really like some answers. Thanks, Hugo

His hands shook as he folded the letter and slid it under the door. He knew to give Varian a little extra time, this wasn’t just a simple math problem. So Hugo waited. And waited. And waited, until it was dinner time and his stomach forced him to get some food. The whole time, his mind was at war with itself once again: See? You just had to push your luck, didn’t you? He’s giving you the cold shoulder ‘cause you couldn’t leave well enough well enough. No! He’s not giving me the cold shoulder, he’s just taking his time to formulate a response. It’s probably a really long story. Keep telling yourself that. I will! ‘Cause it’s true! If the positive side of Hugo was right, Varian sure was taking his sweet old time, because it was 3 weeks before anything happened. Three weeks of absolute silence from the older prince. The only reason things changed was because Hugo took the brave first step of sliding alchemy notes through the door. Five minutes later, it came back with notes and edits. There were no additional quips, remarks, or any explanations like he had requested three weeks earlier, but this was better than silence. They soon fell back into the routine they had before: notes, minimal verbal communication, and various quips. It felt good to get back to that routine, but a small part of Hugo still ached for answers that he feared would never come. But he never acted on this, fearing that Varian would once again give him the cold shoulder, and this time would ignore him for good.(20/20)

((And there it is! The final part! I hope u enjoyed reading it, this is the first time ive really written something i didnt hate *and* am sharing this with someone. Thank you for taking the time to read this, this means more than u know. Thank you also for letting me take over ur inbox😅Next up im doing this story but w/ varians pov, which ive already started. Thx again! -💙

Ahhhhhh, first off, sorry for getting to this later than I usually do!! These past few weeks have been hectic and I’ve been needing to take a step back and focus more on school and classes and stuff, but I finally got to reading this and OMIGOSH I LOVE IT SO MUCH!!!

(Hope you don’t mind if I just added in some italics and kinda changed the formatting to make it easier to read - didn’t take anything off or anything, but the way tumblr formats asks is a bit weird lol, hope that doesn’t offend you! - also number 7 somehow went missing? 😅)

But OMIGOSH YO - just my heart akfjajdjaj 🥺 The two of them building their relationship slowly through passing letters underneath the door? Oh my heart, and the way you can just feel them getting closer and happier because of it?

But then Hugo asking Varian the why - why did he shut him out, why was he behind the door, why can’t they see each other - and then Varian just suddenly going back to that stiff and formal demeanor after that akfjakfjja I cry ahhhhhhh-

“But he never acted on this, fearing that Varian would once again give him the cold shoulder, and this time would ignore him for good.” - JUST RIP MY HEART OUT BLUE NONNIE AHDKGKAKJD

I absolutely loved seeing Hugo’s hesitance then excitement and eagerness to get closer to his brother whom he barely even knows besides a few memories (and ha, I see the headache there 👀) and only to see that he went too far and the fragile bond they’d forged again had melted and akfjakfjaj the FEELS-

Thank you for sharing and for letting me read your writing! I’m excited to see what you’ve got next for Varian’s POV!!! 😱

[hadesgirl1015]

Something in Between pt.4

A/N: Alright, warning. Word barf! It's been over a year since I last updated this story. Classic writer's block and a cruel thing called life and adulthood. Sorry if it took that long. I'll try to come up with the next part as soon as I can, but for now I hope y'all enjoy this. It's angsty though.

It's been a couple of weeks since you last convinced (or at least tried to) Sebastian to give Hannah a chance. So far, you could say they get along pretty well.

You felt bad not being able to see Sebastian or have a decent conversation with him, but you need to settle a lot of things before moving away. You would send him a text here and there, but nothing more. He would try to call but you couldn't answer because you're at an appointment. You would call back but he would already be filming.

Ok, so, you don't feel bad. You feel terrible. The longest ever you had no contact with Sebastian was 7 hours. That was because he was on a flight to London and you were not with him because you got the flu.

But you figured this is good "practice" from being away from each other.

Oh my gosh! You thought to yourself. It's not like we're dating. Get a hold of yourself Y/N!

You decided to visit the set of TFAWS. It's your last week in the U.S and dropping by wouldn't hurt. You thought so, at least.

"Yo Pringles!" a voice from behind you called out as you were walking towards the trailers. You didn't have to wonder who it was as. Only one person calls you that.

"It was one time Mackie! Let it go." You said with a mix of amusement and irritation im your voice.

"And miss the chance of teasing every single time? No thanks." He said coming up to arms open for a hug.

You hugged him but of course slapped his arm real hard when you ended the hug.

"Ow! Seriously woman!"

You blew him a raspberry.

"So what brings you here? Aside from the obvious." He said with a teasing grin.

You gave him a look before answering, "To say my goodbyes in person. You know. The usual."

"So you're actually leaving, huh?"

"Yup. I guess I am."

"He didn't say anything?" Anthony asked with a curious look.

"About what?" You asked eyebrows furrowed.

"I guess not" he said under his breath "Well it's great you dropped by at least I got to see you too."

"It's great seeing you too Mac."

"Should I go tell him?"

"Oh no! You don't have to. I'm going to his trailer anyway and I'll just tell Hannah. I don't want to interrupt any ongoing filming."

"Suit yourself. Anyway, Godspeed young one." With that he left you and you made your way to Sebastian's trailer.

Weirdo. You mumbled to yourself and thought he didn't hear

" Right back at yah, and love you too!"

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

" Don't forget to always have his things ready like the essentials and stuff, yours too, like an emergency kit. Just in case if there's sudden filming in secret locations. You know, Marvel stuff. And-"

" Y/N!" Hannah said in a high voice with a slight amused and teasing look.

" He'll be fine. We'll be fine. So just try chill, we don't want panic before or during take off."

"Thanks, Han. It's just-" you couldn't continue what you were going to say and just sighed.

"I know, babe." Hannad said and gave you a long and tight hug. "Are you sure you don't want to see him? I mean he can just go to your place before you leave."

"I'm not at my place anymore. I shipped most of my things and sold the rest. There's no reason for me to stay there anymore."

"Are you sure? Do you really not want to see him?"

NO! I really want to! You thought to yourself but you couldn't risk it.

"Yup! It'll just make things harder. And besides what needs to be said already has and I said my goodbyes to the others, so yeah." You said with a heavy heart. Once you and Hannah let go from the much not so needed but needed hug, you gave her an envelope.

" Give this to him? Please? But make sure he reads it when I'm gone. "

"What's the point i-" you cut her off by giving her hand a squeeze.

"Alright" she signed. "I swear, the both of you are mean to be." She said shaking her head.

" What are--- Anyway, thank you. I guess I'll be seeing you around?" You told with a bit of sadness.

With one last hug from Hannah and a look around the trailer, you stepped out of the trailer that held memories, and that's all they'll ever be.

Sebastian ran as fast as he could in hopes to catch you in the trailer. He knew something was off when Anthony was being extra on set today. Okay, it was normal but he was extra animated and he spoke in a voice that was higher that it was supposed to. Turns out he was trying to keep his word of not telling Sebastian you came by but excited because he really wanted you and Sebastian to see each other.

"Where is she?" He said said the moment he opened the door to his trailer causing Hannah to jump off her seat, nearly causing her to spill her coffee.

"Gods! Seb! I almost burned myself." She chastised.

"Sorry, but where is she?" He said frantically looking around the trailer.

"If it's Y/N you're looking for, well she's not here."

"Wh- what?" He asked surprised and still catching his breath. "But- but, Anthony said she-"

"Yes. But Seb, she already left." Hannah said with a deep sigh.

"What? How long? Where? Maybe -"

"Half an hour ago.' Hannah said sadly. Sebastian was about to reply when Hannah spoke again. "I know you want to go after her, but we both know she's probably packed and sleeping somewhere else where no one can find her before her flight. Plus, you can't just leave set Sebastian."

Sebastian was on the verge of tears. How could he lose you? How could you come over and not say goodbye? How could he not stop you?

"I'm sorry Seb. She wanted you to have this though." Hannah gave Sebastian the envelope.

Sebastian reached for it and held it in his hand. It had his name written on it with your delicate handwriting that he recognized immediately.

With a sad smile he thanked his assistant and walked over to his reading chair and sat staring at the envelope in his hands.

Without a word Hannah left the trailer to leave Sebastian with his thoughts.

At the sound of the door closing that was when Sebastian's walls came crashing.

Something In Between Masterlist

[faythelyse]

Joji x Reader {female reader} Apocalyptic setting. Part two.

It had been about a week since I had invited the two new men to our community. Tending to George became a regular part of my day. Cleaning the wound and dressing it atleast 2 times a day. He has slept through all of it, I wonder when he will come to. Ben and Ashlee have been going out every day for a supply run. We haven't been this stocked since everything shut down.

Ashlee had grown close to Ben already, they go out frequently on supply runs, and spend most of their waking time fixing up the truck that is now currently running. To top it all off we haven't seen any infected near the community in 3 days. On my way to now to what is basically George and Bens room. I think they might end up living here for a long time. The thought of that made me smile.

I walk in medical bag in hand ready to dress up his wound. He was actually sitting up with his legs crossed. He appeared groggy, but smiled as I entered. "Did you sleep well?" I asked in a happy tone. Sitting next to him I open up my bag and start getting stuff ready. George starts to try and rip at the medical tape around his bandages.

I reach out and stop him with my hand. "Here let me help" I take a cotton ball and soak it in baby oil and wipe it all around the edges of the tape. He watches quietly.

"Let that sit a bit." I got up to throw the cotton ball away and his eyes followed me around the room.

"Thank you" he says as I sit back in front of him. "Where is Ben? "How long have I been out?"

"Ben is out in the garage with Ashlee, unless they have left already. They are heading out to get stuff to build up our walls a bit more, and you have been out for about 5 days. Did you dream?"

He rubbed his eyes "Um. Yeah, I did." He watched as I pulled out new clean bandages and tape. I start to softly pull off the tape around his ribs and chest. "You've been taking care of me all this time." I nod and continue to remove everything.

He winces as I clean his injury. Its healing. "You are lucky. It seems to be healing up great."

"Thanks to you.. We were lucky to stumble across you. I don't even recall what your name is."

"It's Y/N, if there's anything else you need just let me know" Right as I was close to the door he speaks up again.

"Can you just stay a moment with me. Ben and I haven't seen any others in months. It's nice to just be around someone who isn't infected."

"I understand. The girls and I who make up this community were getting restless not having anyone else to communicate with besides the raiders who come by to give us a hard time and steal our food."

"Raiders come and steal your food?" George looked genuinely worried knowing we really weren't in a good position to fight back.

"They killed Elenas fiance awhile back. We have tolerated them ever since." You look away not knowing what else to say on the subject. You couldn't yet explain to him that one of the raiders was especially infatuated with you and you had no choice but to go on tolerating it with no real way to fight back.

You change the subject "SO what did you do before the world shut down?"

"I made music. I still make music really. Just no ones around to hear it.. " He scratches the back of his neck nervously. "I heard you singing the other day when you came in to clean up the room."

You immediately blush. You don't sing in front of anyone.

"Don't be embarrassed" he laughed so casually "Y/N you sounded beautiful."

You smile nervously still not able to say anything. You could feel your face get hot as he just sat and stared at you for a moment.

"I'm sorry I didn't mean to secretly listen in, I just didn't want you to stop.."

Ashlee opens the door "Y/N! We kind of have a small emergency." She motions for you to follow her. Before you leave you grab a pen and some paper from the desk in the corner of the room and lay it on Georges lap. "To write music." You say and smile before leaving the room.

George feeling great about finally having someone else to bond with besides Ben is immediately struck with inspiration and starts writing. George glances over at the green coat he had been injured in and has a flash of memories about the night he had met you. The tone of your sweet voice bounces around his head. Your messy hair, soft eyes and pouty lips had immediately drawn him to you. He wanted to know you.

Ben bursts in and plops down whilst shoving an immense amount of potatoe chips into his mouth. "They have ramen" he says with a mouthful. George rolls his eyes and smiles at his friend. "Yeah Im doing fine, thanks for asking dickhead."

"Aw come on, I knew you'd be fine, you've literally eaten a hair cake and survived." Ben laughs and shoves more chips in his mouth.

"You keep bringing that up like it's some life achievement." George manages to stand up and leans up against the wall next to the window. Ben walks over and gazes out the window with him. Ashlee and Y/N are outside trying their best to catch a mean goose that had laid her eggs in Elenas garden. They had plans to catch and breed her for food. George and Ben laugh quietly while watching this go down. "So what do you think of the girls? They seem great right?" Ben watches Ashlee, he is clearly into her.

"I actually completely agree with you on this one. They are great.." He says while thinking of you. "What if the people who gave me this" he points out his woind" find us here. Then we are putting them in danger."

Bens expression turns serious. "How are they going to find us? Besides if I see those fuckers again I'll be prepared this time."

"They found us last time, and we barely escaped.."

"That was last time, this is different. Have trust." Ben slaps George on the shoulder and starts to leave " Besides, we owe these girls. It wont hurt to stay awhile."

"And your dick has no alternative motivation for this?"

Ben smirks "Of course not, I have no idea what you are implying. " he shuts the door behind him.

George still by the window looks over the area for a moment. A garden was out in the right corner of the yard where a young woman was planting seeds while talking to

Y/N, who was sitting on a nearby stone bench. She appeared to be writing. George thought for a long time on if staying here was the right choice but something about Y/N made him want to linger a bit longer.

He walked outside, and stood behind y/n for a moment before making her aware of his presence. She was so immersed in her writing she didn't hear him walk up.

"You have nice handwriting." George spoke softly but his gentle voice made y/n jump even higher. "Jesus, you scared me. Also its rude to spy on someone who is so obviously journaling." You slam your book shut hoping he hadn't read to much into what you were writing. His big dark brown eyes lightened slightly in the sun. "Could I get a tour of the place? We can talk about how to pay off my debt to you. I really owe you my life." He was serious. You stand up and glance over at Elena. Elena looks up and waves her hand at you giving you the okay to leave her to her garden. "Sounds good, I'll show you around." You lead him out the gate into the front yard. You turn around and show him the full outside view of the house. "This is where we lived before we combined the house behind us, we decided it would be better to have a larger space, and fenced in both backyards, even cleared the second house. Now we have plenty of room in and out without having to worry about infected." You both walk back in, you lead him around the kichen and show him to all the rooms. "Where is your room?" You are starting to get the sense he could be flirting with you. You open the last room revealing your space. It was filled with old cds, books and papers, a bed with maybe too many blankets, and couple game systems hooked up to a tv that was plugged into a generator. "Homey" he says as he walks in making himself comfortable and plopping on your bed.

"You seem comfortable." You smile taking in his small gestures and goofy smiles as he gives your room a good look over. "Okay we can move on to the -" he interrupts you "Whats this?" He picks up a wrinkly piece of paper. It was a suicide note you had written a month or so ago after the raiders had killed elenas fiance and deemed you their new play thing. You didn't want to live in a world where you were trying so hard to survive only to get used whenever they decided to come back. Which was about twice a month. Sucked it up though. You care to deeply for all of your friends. You couldn't leave them to a worse fate. "I don't plan on doing that anymore. It's not a big deal." You whisper while looking down out of embarrassment. He walks up to you and pulls your chin up to meet his gaze. "Y/N I'm here to help if you need me." He pulls you into an unexpected hug. You relax in his arms. That was the moment he decided he didn't want to leave. He wanted to hold onto you and this peaceful place as long as possible. This felt like a dream to him. Ben and George had been wandering with no real home for atleast a couple years now. This felt like it could be home. "I'll pay my debt by helping you get rid of those assholes who think they can come by and take whatever they want." You push away from him. You knew this was dangerous, thinking about standing up to them at all made you sick to your stomach. We couldn't continue living in fear though. You nod your head in agreement. And you both walk back outside where everyone was circled up talking.

[angrylizardjacket]

and you’ll never feel left all alone // 1 // charlotte&lola (penny&jupiter)

Summary: Jupiter (Lola & Tommy’s kid) and Penny (Charlotte & Razzle’s kid) find some old home movies, and watch some old interviews on YouTube. This should be fine, right? Definitely not going to be a sad trip down memory lane.

A/N: I write for 3 people apparently; me, @missleenmilliet, and that one anon who was invested in Gabs’ blog abt these gals. But also fuck i love writing this, it’s so angsty and i love family dynamics and also insights into Lola and Tommy’s relationship post-kid but when they’re not together..... idk im a mess abt this.

----

The label on the video tape reads 'Christmas 1991' in Tommy's messy handwriting, and Jupiter doesn't quite know what possess them, but they put the tape in and press play.

"What'd you find?" Penny asks, looking up from a box of old notebooks that she'd been poring over, intrigued to hear the television start up.

"Home movies, I think."

“Hi Lily-pad,” the woman in the video looks and sounds like their mother, but so bright and young, and Jupiter is frozen, eyes glued to the screen. 

They watch the recording, as a young child with dark hair and dark eyes runs into frame, almost barreling Lola over. The kid couldn’t be more than three or four, waddling, with hair so long it had to be put in braids, or it would be an untamable nightmare. Lola drops the duffle bag she'd been holding in favour of scooping up the kid, the young Jupiter, grinning so wide, so bright, kissing all over their face as they giggle, “I’ve missed you so much!” Lola exclaimed, and hugs the kid close, and the kid hugs her back.

“Momma!” The kid snuggles against Lola, smiling, “daddy, you were right!” They turn to look at whoever's behind the camera, and Lola's expression turns fond, her gaze focused on the child.

“Of course, Lily-pad, wouldn’t miss this for the world!” Lola assured them, holding their daughter in one arm, refusing to put them down, she bends to pick up her bag before finally turning her gaze to the camera, and her already bright smile widens.

"Where'd you find that old thing?" Lola asks, and young Jupiter's looking at the person behind the camera with a smile.

"Garage," comes Tommy's reply, and he steps forward when Jupiter makes insistent grabby-hands at the lense, and Tommy lets her take a hold on the camera, though his gentle 'careful, Liss' could still be heard, and full of curiosity, the toddler presses her face against the camera lense, much to Lola and Tommy's amusement. 

"I forgot how cute you were back then," Penny nudges Jupiter in the ribs, the two of them side-by-side on the floor of Tommy's garage, having dusted off the old VCR and home movies. 

"I don't remember this," Jupiter’s voice is quiet and they can't seem to look away. 

The video follows as the trio walk through the halls of Tommy's mansion, the very building they were staying in now.

"How are Nikki and Mick?" Tommy asks, quick to add, "and Alice, of course." 

"They're good, Nikki's doing really well, Alice especially has been super supportive, and Mick…" she trails off for a moment, "Mick is Mick." Is all she can offer, but Tommy seems to get it, enough to at least laugh.

"What are they doing today? We could have invited them."

"Nikki's fine, he sends his love by the way, he's hanging out with Slash and his missus, and a couple of other guys from the band; their kid's almost Penny's age, how wild is that?" Lola asks, and Tommy makes a noise in the back of his throat. "No, Duff won't be there," Lola knows without even having to hear his complaint, what's set him off on a mood. "He's holidaying in Australia this year."

"Hope he gets sunburnt," Tommy grumbles, "or eaten by a shark."

"Tommy…"

"Whatever, doesn't matter anyways, how are you? What have you been up to?" He asks, and they're in the living room now, and the camera catches it as Jupiter scampers from Lola's arms and heads into the bustling kitchen, announcing her arrival.

"I've been busy, of course, with the Alice collaboration, and I've been looking at renting a bigger office, hiring some interns," she sounds a little proud, and Tommy sets the camera down; neither are in frame.

"Really moving up in the world," Tommy's smile is clear in his voice.

"And, uh," Lola hesitates, and there's rustling like she's digging in her pockets, "ninety days." She says quietly, finally, and a silence follows.

"I'm so proud of you, dude, that's awesome." Tommy's voice is muffled, like he's speaking into her hair, and then there's movement from the camera as he's picking it up, focusing it on a mildly embarrassed Lola.

"I'm commemorating this moment;" Tommy told her, and Lola can't help her little, embarrassed smile as she holds up the little 90 Days Sober chip, "Merry Christmas, Lols, I'm so damn proud."

The video roughly cuts to a shot of Tommy in front of the Christmas tree, frowning at the camera, before double checking it was stable. When he moves away, the rest of the room is revealed. Tommy's parents sit on the sofa, watching young Jupiter, and what can only be a young Penny diligently shaking presents with their names on it. 

Penny is almost six, strikingly blonde, and looks like a young woman on a mission, methodically going through all of her presents and trying to hear what was inside. Jupiter, however, watches Penny pick up a present, and follows suit, too young to read, to know if their name's on it, and when Penny shakes her present, Jupiter copies her tenuously, not quite grasping what they were doing. Penny catches the way Jupiter's watching her, and then looks at the present. 

"That's not yours," Penny tells Jupiter, and gently takes the small box from her, "that's for Nana." And she puts it back beneath the tree, scouring the pile of presents, before she finds a small, soft, strangely shaped one and hands it to Jupiter. "This is for you." And she says it so matter-of-factly. Jupiter shakes it, confused, watching Penny for approval. "Can you hear what's inside?" Penny asks, and Jupiter shakes her head, looking a little concerned, as if she'd done something wrong. 

"Well then why don't you open it up and see what's inside?" Lola offers, stepping into frame and sitting by the Christmas tree. Jupiter tears into the paper like a wild animal, and for a moment they're turned away, before they go still.

"He's got sticks like daddy," and they sound overjoyed, turning to excitedly show their grandparents the teddy bear wearing a black t-shirt with the Theatre of Pain mask on it, holding two plush drumsticks. 

"And Penny, I know you're a bit old for bears," Lola started tentatively, reaching for a similarly shaped package near the base of the tree, handing it over to the blonde girl, "but your dad was a drummer too, just like your uncle." And Penny's far more subdued than Jupiter, who's climbed into her Grandfather's lap and started to air drum with the bear, already seemingly forgetting the rest of the room.

Penny's bear has a little, black tophat, and a black shirt with the cover of Hanoi Rocks' first album, 'Bangkok Shocks, Saigon Shakes, Hanoi Rocks' printed on it, and two little drumsticks. The bear is smiling. 

"We match!" Jupiter exclaims, upon seeing Penny's bear, but Penny herself doesn't seem to notice, just gives Lola a tight hug. 

“Oh,” it was Penny’s turn to go soft, in the present, watching the surprisingly high-quality recording of something she hadn’t even realise she would remember, “I’ve still got that bear somewhere.”

“I don’t.” Jupiter sounds like they regret that, “when I was twenty-something, you remember I burnt all the shit that Lola ever gave me.”

“Yeah, I remember your Y2k party.”

“I miss that bear,” Jupiter admits, almost inaudibly. 

They watch as the family opens Christmas presents together, the girls getting a range of toys and clothes, all in pinks, purples, and blacks. Penny gets a set of glow in the dark stars for the ceiling of her room, and Jupiter gets a plush planet in tie-dyed neon purple.

And then there’s another cut, a strange angle, like the camera’s set on a coffee table, catching the side-profile of the piano and stool beside it. Lola’s sitting on said stool, watching Tommy as he makes sure the camera’s recording. She looks at Tommy with a quiet happiness, almost like she was content; with ankles crossed, wearing a thick, knitted sweater, she looks, for lack of a better word, domesticated. 

Tommy looks back at her, and for just a moment, he pauses.

“What?” Lola half laughs, sounding more gentle than she’d usually ever let herself sound on camera.

“You just look really good,” Tommy grins, “healthy and shit; you look like you’re doing good.” After a moment, there comes a quiet giggle from off camera, and both Tommy and Lola turn, grinning. 

It’s Penny and Jupiter, and Jupiter sits in Lola’s lap, and Tommy scoops up Penny and sits her in his lap when he joins Lola by the piano. The two dutifully inform the pair by the piano that Grandma and Grandpa Bass have gone upstairs to take a nap, and that they had been very well tucked in and kissed goodnight. It’s almost painfully adorable.

And Lola’s hands come up to the keys, and Jupiter uses her arms like armrests, and asks what’s happening.

“It’s tradition,” Penny tells her matter-of-factly, and Tommy presses a kiss to the top of his niece's head before agreeing.

“It’s a Christmas present I gave your mommy a long time ago,” Tommy told Jupiter, who was watching as Lola carefully played a few scales.

“A piano?” Jupiter asked, and Lola laughed gently, her fingers stilling for a moment.

“No, Lily-pad, he gave me the chance to get back to doing something I loved,” she said gently, before her fingers found the opening chords for Home Sweet Home. When Lola sings it, it sounds like a lullaby, and Tommy holds little Penny, watching in quiet awe. 

“You know I'm a dreamer, but my heart's of gold, I had to run away high, so I wouldn’t come home low,” her voice catches, and Tommy fills in, matches her tone, her gentle singing, and Jupiter looks up at him, eyes bright and full of wonder as the song turns to a quiet duet between their parents.

And in the present, Jupiter doesn’t realise they’re crying until they feel the tear tracks beginning to dry on their cheeks.

“She always played that one,” Jupiter scrubs almost angrily at their cheeks, as if trying to erase the proof of their emotions before anyone could accuse them of having any of them. When all they hear is a choked noise beside them, they turn and Penny’s silently sobbing, not even trying to hide her tears.

“I- I forgot, f... fuck.” And then she’s fumbling, pulling out her phone, clicking and typing before pulling up a YouTube video.

HANOI ROCKS Razzle Dingley & Charlotte Lee Cutest Moments the title reads, and Penny flicks through to about the two minute mark. It’s an interview, the footage grainy, but Charlotte and Razzle are side by side on a sofa, his hand on her knee, and the pair look so elated. 

“So do you, what do you put on for your daughter to go to sleep to? Is she nodding off to like, Motley Crue’s Kick Start My Heart? or Razzle, is she more of a Boulevard of Broken Dreams girl?” The reporter asks, tone light and a little teasing, and Penny’s parents laugh in the recording, and they catch how Razzle tips his head to lean against Charlotte just a little more.

“Pennylope’s gonna grow up to be a real rock an’ roller, I can tell you that, she’ll know all the words to my songs before she knows mam or dad, I’ll bet,” Razzle grins and it’s all teeth, but Charlotte doesn’t seem inclined to disagree.

“I tried to change her while listening to a demo of their new album, and she just wouldn’t stop dancing,” Charlotte adds, before her grin turns a little mischevious, “don’t tell Tommy I said this, but Motley’s stuff scares her half to death; I put on Shout at the Devil the other day and she started bawling her eyes out.” Which sets Razzle off laughing, nodding, and Charlotte tucks her arm in his; they’re almost sickeningly cute. Sitting like this, the studio lights catch the glint of their respective wedding rings.

“No, no, tell ‘em about that cute thing, though,” Razzle urges, nudging Charlotte’s knee, “tell ‘em about the Motley song she likes.”

“The one,” Charlotte emphasizes with a laugh, but obliges, “so yeah, there’s this one song she does like, and it’s one I’m quite fond of -”

“You’re biased,” Razzle goads her fondly, and Charlotte rolls her eyes.

“Am not -”

“Your cousin wrote it!”

“Co-wrote it! And that doesn’t make it less cute.”

“It is pretty fuckin’ cute.” Razzle agrees, and shuts up enough for Charlotte to actually finish the story, though he’s got this starry-eyed gaze the whole time.

“So Tommy and Nikki wrote this, actually partially for me and for, uh, not exactly sure what to call her, Lola, their assistant manager, I guess? Who they were sort of dating? It’s a whole things, but we’d all just been having an atrocious time on tour in like, eighty-two, all ready to go home, and I remember one night just seeing Lola and Nikki curled up at the back of the tour bus, Lola was almost asleep, and Nikki was being like,” she laughs, “uncharacteristically cute, saying stuff like, ‘not long now ‘till we’re home sweet home’ and I just remember Tommy absolutely just taking that phrase and running with it.” She takes a breath now, seeming much more gentle and honest, fidgeting a little, “and we just, it just sort of became an anthem between the four of us, a signal, like a little thing we’d start to hum if we were feeling homesick or needed some comfort, it wasn’t a romantic thing, it was just a need for human contact and connection, you know, a bat-signal for ‘I’m having a shit time please come hug me’.” Though she laughs, it’s far more honest than she’d probably intended, and it seems to occur to her as she takes a deep, shaking breath, just how honest she’s allowed herself to be. After a beat, she swallows heavy, tentatively humming the opening notes of the song, before looking to the camera, and then to Razzle. Her humming goes quiet. He drops a kiss to her shoulder in silent solidarity.

“Just, you know, just take this song and you’ll never feel left all alone,” she quotes the song, looking back at the camera as she smiles softly, and her hand moves to hold Razzle’s, “and when I hear that, it’s my family, like my real family with Tommy, and my band family, giving me support, and it reminds me every time Nic’s on tour that he’ll be back soon, and it’s the support I wanna give my daughter, my little Pennylope. That I’ll never be too far away.” She says with such heartfelt sincerity, before she laughs a little, and the interview cuts to a new clip in a jarring fashion, but Penny turns off her phone. Her hands are shaking, and she’s crying. Jupiter wraps her up in a hug.

“I just f- forgot about... we haven’t had family Christmas in so long and I just- it was their song, Jup, and now it’s our song, and I just... I miss it.” She tucks her face into the crook of Jupiter’s neck, and Jupiter has absolutely no idea what to say, knowing only that they’ve started crying again. For the longest time, they stay like that, the two of them holding each other in the dusty garage, with the home video paused in front of them. 

Neither of them have seen Lola in person for a very long time, not properly, and the premiere of The Dirt doesn’t exactly count. 

Silently, Penny moves away, moves to rewind the tape, to listen to the exchange, the song again. Jupiter is frozen, doesn’t even know what they feel, or how to process what is happening.

“It’s tradition.” Young Penny tells them both from the recording again, and she sounds so earnest it almost hurts.

“It’s a Christmas present I gave your mommy a long time ago,” Tommy, so young, so gentle and caring, smiles in the video.

“A piano?” Jupiter asked, voice high and young and curious, which makes Lola laugh, gentle and fond, a sound that makes present-day Jupiter’s heart ache.

“No, Lily-pad, he gave me the chance to get back to doing something I loved.”

[terrifictomholland]

I have a request, could you do a au where the reader is more of a bad girl and gets caught in detention with Peter Parker, they both dislike each other at first hearing all about each others reputations but soon band together to escape out of detention stealing their phones while the teacher is sleeping, they exchange numbers and at school the next day the reader acts flirty to him and the whole school is basically shocked (Ned and mj mostly) anyways thnx and luv u 💕

Hi! Im so so sorry for how long this has taken, but it’s here now and I hope you’ll enjoy it!  💕 I love you too! 

You'd been caught graffiti-ing on school property, earning you once again, detention. With a heavy sigh you plonked down in your regular chair in the classroom where the detention was held. You surveyed around the room, seeing a few kids spread out across the room, until your eyes landed on one Mr. Peter Parker, now you were intrigued as to why he was there. You smirked slightly, getting up, heading over to him and sitting down in front of him on his bench, seeing the way he looked up at you with a slight scowl.

"Aw did someone forget to bring the good teacher an apple this morning?" you mocked, hearing you antagonize him only made his scowl deepen. It was positively adorable. "Shut up," he growled and you let out a giggle, 

"That's the best comeback so far you've come up with," you commended and he rolled his eyes, "So why are you in here? Aren't you the school goody-two-shoes?" you commented casually watching him tense up from the corner of your eye making you smirk. 

You loved pushing his buttons seeing how easily he riled up. "None of your business," he bit out clearly flustered and you shrugged getting off his desk going back to your usual seat. 

You'd decorated a seat which you always sat at, always adding to it, doodling straight onto the desk. You didn't bother with any homework, believe it or not you had a bit of a photographic memory, not that you let anyone know that. You had crafted your persona very carefully to make it seem like you didn't give a flying fuck about anyone or anything. 

Essentially you acted like a bitch. It wasn't hard to fool everyone either seeing as how you almost always wore black and every single pair of jeans had rips in them. You were a bit goth with your looks, a piercing here and there and a few small random tattoos on your arms. Deep down, it wasn't who you were, but you'd spent a lot of your childhood being put through bullying, so when you transferred schools to Midtown it was like turning a new page and beginning a new chapter. 

At your old school you'd been bullied over being a straight A student and being a teachers pet so now you were rebelling from that with all your might.

The first time you'd laid eyes on Peter Parker he reminded you so much of the girl you were at your old school. The shy, sensitive, always eager to please, naive and doe-eyed girl and it brought up ugly memories for you because he represented all of the things you once had before those bullies came and made you their victim and full of bitterness. 

You used to be a glass half full kind of girl, now you were a glass half empty kind of girl instead.   That wasn't to say you hadn't gone to therapy to process and deal with your bullying, you had. Extensively so, but you were still having a hard time letting go of grudges. 

Which also made it more difficult for you to make friends once you had moved to Midtown, you only really had one friend and that was MJ. She shared the same kind of self-deprecating humour, though there was a lightness to her which you saw in yourself too, and just her way of looking at the world intrigued you.

 Of course the two of you easily and quickly bonded because of your shared likes and interests. That was how you had met Peter and Ned, Peter's best friend in the whole world, through MJ. You broke out of your doodling, looking at the clock which hung on the wall, seeing that only 20 minutes had passed. You let out an insufferable sigh, scooting further down in your seat. 

You vaguely felt someone watching you so you turned your head seeing Peter staring at you with an intensity you didn't even know the boy had in him. It shocked and pleased you at the same time. His gaze never wavered as you met his, mouthing "what?" to him seeing how his nerves almost got the better of him. In true Peter fashion, he looked around him before throwing a wadded up piece of paper to you. 

You couldn't help the eye roll that escaped, was he five years old? Sending you actual notes in detention? You unfolded the paper seeing in a relatively neat handwriting play hooky? Your eyebrows went up to your hairline and you weren't far from falling off your actual chair. Peter Parker wanted to play hooky?

Your eyes met his with an abundance of mischief, giving him a nod and you skipped over to his desk once more, "What's the game plan Parker?" you asked seriously, seeing the way he gulped and let his eyes dart around the room for a way out. "Well uh, we could use the front door?" he squeaked, you could practically see the sweat drip down his temples and you hummed, "well that's not very creative," you said slightly dismissively and he huffed. "Does it have to be creative? Mr. Dell is already fast asleep," he countered and you grinned at him proudly, "Fucking finally Parker, there we go!" you cheered grabbing his hand letting him almost trip over his chair as he grabbed his backpack. You easily fished your phones out of the box Mr. Dell had on the desk, the two of you slipping out of detention relatively unnoticed. 

The kids who were in there didn't give two shits who came or left. "Hey what's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively as the two of you left school ground and you let out a groan, significantly slowing your pace as you walked, turning to face him seeing how uptight he was. "That you're finally showing some back bone! Or, in a much more crass way of putting it, you finally grew a pair," you deadpanned seeing him flush, 

"What'd you do this time to end up in detention?" was what came out of his mouth. You lifted a shoulder up in a half-shrug, "I improved the school." "Meaning?" he implored and you let out a small giggle, "Graffiti-ing," "What awful and horrible crime did you do?" you asked before he had a chance to say anything about your illicit business. 

You saw him wringing his hands uncomfortably and swallow harshly as couple of times, his eyes darting everywhere but on you.

Without a reason why or knowing why, you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder seeing him jump up at the unexpected touch. "Shit, what did you do?" you asked worriedly, all of your pretenses dropping and you found yourself feeling genuinely concerned for him, it was obviously something bad judging by the way he was acting. "I uh...um, I might've punched Flash," he started meekly, "In the face," he rushed out and you weren't faking your reaction this time, your eyes wide as saucers. "Nice," you complimented seeing him looking at you both horrified and preening at your praise. Hmm, interesting.

"I've wanted to deck that guy since I first saw him," you admitted and Peter did the most surprising thing yet. He fucking laughed.  Like full on laughed, knee-slapping kind of laughter. "Are you sure he didn't deck you?" you questioned seeing his reaction as he wiped his eyes finally settling down. "I'm quite sure he didn't. I'm far too aware of him ever getting the upper hand," he said confidently which just stumped you. Getting the upper hand? "What are you talking about?" you were even more confused, watching him with furrowed brows. 

He turned serious now and chewed his lip, "Nothing," he said at last. He could tell you didn't buy it, but you let it go for now. "Where did you have in mind we go?" you asked instead, "W-why do I get to decide that?" he asked suddenly back to his nervous self, "Because you were the one who wanted to play hooky so you get to come up where to go," "Oh...well, have you ever gotten the subs from Mr. Delmar’s deli?" he asked and you felt your mouth tug up in a grin, "Good thinking Parker," you praised and he gave you one of his own grins.

It was like a punch to your gut, his smile was fucking blinding, heat crept up in your stomach at the sight of it and you felt your cheeks heat up which you tried to hide - no one could know that you thought Peter was hot. He didn't notice your inner turmoil as he walked a few steps in front of you, chitchatting about the most random things. 

Something about some science-y thing which you honestly couldn't keep up with right now as you tried to clear your head.  Once you saw the Delmar's Deli sign you felt yourself let out a sigh of relief. "What do you want?" Peter turned to you, you rattled off your usual, hearing Peter get the same. Offering you a tiny smile and he pulled wallet out, paying for the both of you, "I can get my own food," you said but it was in vain, "Consider it my way of saying thanks for playing hooky with me," he let out a small laughter which made butterflies erupt in your stomach and you gave him a soft smile in return. 

"Thank you," you said earnestly seeing the tips of his ears turn red, "I think that's the first time you've ever been nice to me," he observed and it felt like he doused you with a bucket of water at that. Did he think you were mean and cruel? He did sense something wrong now and he watched you with an imperceptible look, "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked quietly as you got your subs. 

The two of you left and started walking around aimlessly. "Do you think I'm mean?" you asked quietly feeling yourself overcome with guilt, "I think you're misunderstood," well..fuck, he saw pretty much right through you. "That wasn't an answer," you replied weakly.

"Well you've never been very civil toward me," he told you, avoiding your gaze at all costs, as if it was paining him to be this blunt to you, but you needed him to be. "I..i'm sorry," you said softly feeling remorse take over. "I just wanna know why? What did I do to you?" he asked and finally looked at you. You almost wished he'd look away because his gaze left you feeling very naked. Even though you were fully clothed. 

"You represent something I have tried for a long time to run away from," you said playing with your chipped nail polish.

"What's that?" of course he'd want to know, which you couldn't blame him but you felt very exposed, telling the one person you never thought you'd share your whole life story to, but here you were. 

So, you told him everything. About your first school, your aspirations, the bullies and how they put out your light and positivity and most importantly, your spirit.  Peter sat there beside you quietly as you told him your story, and once you were finished you sneaked a glance at him. "You're not alone," he said after a moment and you kept watching him closely, swallowing as you waited for him to continue, "With being bullied I mean," he licked his lips and your eyes zeroed in on them, "I am too in a way by Flash," he said and you felt your heart crack.

"I'm sorry," he looked at you now giving you a small smile, "It's okay," he said gently and you shut your eyes, "I felt envious of you..that you could keep on being the person you are, while I had to change," you admitted after a few minutes of a relatively comfortable silence. "Who says you can't be that person again?" you met his gaze vulnerably, 

"Me, that's who," "Why not?"   "I just can't," you said quietly and your heart beat picked up when he put his hand over yours. "I hope one day you can," was all he said and it made tears spring to your eyes. You hated getting vulnerable in front of people, let alone Peter Parker, your one sworn enemy who wasn't your enemy at all anymore. 

You wiped your eyes sneakily, but your sniffle gave you away still he didn't say anything which you appreciated. "I found you really annoying," you sniffled slightly and his eyebrows quirked up, "Oh?" "Because you constantly brag about the Stark internship," you mumbled, being only slightly jealous of him. He let out a tiny giggle. Yes, a giggle. "Are you jealous?" he teased and you scoffed, "What? No of course not," "Liar liar pants on fire," he smirked, all you wanted to do was kiss the stupid smirk off his face. Wait what? "You are," he said smugly looking at you and you felt your cheeks turn crimson. 

When did you decide you wanted to kiss Peter? "Fine...yes, I am," you said seeing the way the smirk returned and it made desire burn in your belly.  "You have no reason to be," he said after a moment. You looked at him seeing the earnest in them. "Hey," he mumbled after a little while, his hand snaking into yours holding it and it made your heart start beating faster,

 "Thanks for trusting me enough to tell me about what you've been through," he said with such honesty and sincerity it made tears well up in your eyes again, "Thanks for letting me talk," you offered softly and the way his face lit up when he smiled lit you up from the inside out. "My pleasure," he smiled.

You leaned forward, closer to his face hearing the way his breath hitched and you felt as though your heart was going to burst out of your rib cage, but before you lost your nerve you very gently pressed your lips against his. His hand coming up, grasping you by the back of your head moving his lips against yours.  You held onto his shoulders, loving the way he held onto you, keeping you close to him.

The two of you got lost in the kiss, tongues battling it out and exploring each others mouths, before eventually pulling apart. You kept your eyes shut just reveling in the way your lips were tingling and the calmness you felt wash over you. "That was fun," Peter said and you looked up at him seeing his cheeks turn pink and he was looking at you bashfully making you laugh, 

"It was, we should do it more often." you winked and he let out a shy smile, nodding. "How about we swap phone numbers? M-maybe we could do this again some time?" he asked nervously and you couldn't help your grin, "This or the kissing?" you teased seeing his cheeks turn even more red. "U-um both," he said shyly and you couldn't stop the grin from getting even wider. You wordlessly handed him your phone seeing the way his eyes lit up and he easily added his number, fingers flying over the buttons. "I'll send a text to myself," he said bashfully and you nodded in encouragement.

"Well you're just full of surprises aren't you Parker?" you smirked and he looked at you tensely for a second, "W-what?" he squeaked, "Taking charge and asking for my number, hell you're even kissing me," you teased and he relaxed letting out a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. "Do you uhm, wanna do that again?" "Do what?" you played dumb just to see what he'd do. He let out a nervous breath before holding your face in his hands, kissing you slowly.  Chapped lips moving against yours firmly and with pressure. You gripped onto the back of his head letting him lead and take charge of the kiss.

Oh yeah, you were definitely doing this again.

                                                       ---- The next day when you arrived at school, there was a slight difference today. 

You'd taken some of Peter's advice on board, and you begun the day with brighter clothes, a simple pale blue dress. It wasn't a lot but it was a start. You could feel the gaze of everyone as you walked the halls in school, but you kept your head held high and focused on Peter, MJ and Ned at the end of the hallway, by all of your lockers. 

You couldn't help but the smile that took over your face seeing Peter there, remembering yesterday. "Hi handsome," you grinned, loving the way his cheeks turned scarlet, "Hey," he said, eyes darting around no doubt seeing the shocked expressions on Ned and MJ's faces. 

It didn't even come close to the shock when you walked over to him with intent, kissing him deeply, pushing him up against the lockers. Vaguely, you heard everyone whispering and gasping that the two almost arch-enemies of the school were making out. Once you pulled away, seeing his wide eyes and swollen lips, "Having a good day?" you asked sweetly and he looked at you in a daze. "i-it's uh, it's pretty good yeah," he stuttered making you smile, "Good, how about we make it even better? Maybe play hooky?"