#i also didn't go into it because there's really no way to know and it's already hard enough to refer to that character

[egophiliac]

ANNIVERSARY GROOVY BOYBAND! THEY ALL LOOK SO GOOD, I also love the hades reference with idia! Ik ur probably really swamped with the book 7 brain rot but I wanted to know ur thoughts. I also wanted to mention that I am so card deprived I feel like I need a replacement event to take tsumderlands place

AUGH NO I LOVE THEM. 😭 UGH now I really have to think about if I want to try pulling for Grim again. dangit. heck. I already got his little pedestal to add my guest room shrine, but...now I kinda need the boss himself...

also, the implications of it not being an OB thing, Idia can just. Do That? apparently? do you think he ever just sometimes does it by accident? what am I saying, he absolutely sometimes does it by accident.

gosh though. this event has been SO cute in general! I was wondering who'd get the focus for year 5; I could not be happier that the answer is apparently EVERYBODY. :D all the dorms get their own special songs! so many cute little scenes!!! the lowest of stakes bringing out the highest of pettiness in everyone!!!!!! it's excellent.

(also, because I will make literally anything about my diaboys...I know these events are typically sorta, let's say chronologically unmoored with regards to story. but the further implications that this takes place pre-episode 7/Malleus' Big Existential Crisis, and yet...some of these lines?)

[kianamaiart]

One thing that was kinda ingrained in me while storyboarding on Big City Greens was screen direction and the sort of illusion of progress that screen direction can create (this isn't just a BCG thing by the way, it's an actual film technique but this is where i learned it)

It wasn't a hard rule or anything but our showrunners generally preferred to have the characters going from left to right as the story/episode progressed (you'll probably notice this in a lot of movies now if you didn't know about this before haha). I've definitely had to restage sequences due to this rule when I first started LOL but it's become second nature to me at this point. Whenever a character moves left to right, in my brain, that means they're moving the story forward, much like how when you read it's usually left to right and you yourself are moving the story forward (obviously this is a more western thing).

I, in hindsight, realized I was doing this in my pilot. When I was first visualizing the pilot I always imagined Aika going from screen right to left at the beginning of the episode for some reason. I didn't really give it much thought but afterwards I asked myself why I did that, because I always start characters going left to right. It just felt correct in my head and now I'm understanding why. Because she's running away, actively trying to get away from the story and the goal. It's not until she gets to the cafeteria and starts moving left to right, towards Zira, who unknowingly is going to be the reason Aika has to dive back into her story. Then from that point on the left to right screen direction continues (even into the credits). I thought it was cool that my brain was just wired to do that after all these years but also a nice reminder about how important but subtle filmmaking and cinematography is. I think a lot of people do this even if they don't know the technique!

Idk why I felt like sharing this LOL. Just thought it was funny and maybe helpful for anyone looking to get into storyboarding or filmmaking! I actually don't know if there's a technical term for this? This video calls it Lateral Character Movement so maybe it's that!

but yeah anyways thought it'd be fun to share. I LOVE ART!!!

[digitald0rk]

ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭* NERD ALERT ! [ 2 ]

pairing : mark grayson x gn!reader.

synopsis : nerding out with your beloved bf :3

warnings : slightly suggestive and uh the usual pet names? he calls you his angel too <3 NOT PROOFREAD!! also mentions of dante sparda because the dmc anime is coming out 'm so excited!!!

w.c : 1.5 k.

a/n : THANK U SM FOR 200+ FOLLOWERS WHAT THE HELL SJSHJEHSLSKD. love you all <3

taglist : @vm4879bb-blog @hihowyoudoin00 @fairii-majii [ lemme know if you wanna be added too ]

READ PART [ 1 ] HERE !

if you're into video games, he's going out of his way to learn all about your faves.

when it comes to fighter games, thinks he's soooo slick looking up combos and learning them, he's all like “heh :3 gonna sweep them off their feet” and then gets absolutely BODIED LMAO.

if you show him no mercy he'll eventually start to get frustrated, not at you obviously you're his previous angel <3

“i’m not sulking.” he says, while clearly sulking. he was supposed to impress you! why are you so good at this :(

if he doesn't get a single win he's gonna suffocate one of your plushies when you're out of sight, it keeps staring at him, is that little fella mocking him? oh it'll pay for that.

you look at him amusedly when you come back to see the very obvious dent on your plushie, caused by a certain someone's fist.

“mark.” your eyes dart between the deformed head of your plushie and your boyfriend, biting back a smile.

“yeah baby?” he's all :3 bats his eyelashes all pretty at you, acting like he didn't just beat the shit out of your plushie like BOY YOU'RE NOT SLY.

but he is pretty, so you'll spare him, for now, not in the game though :p

on the topic of video games, he's actually decent at competitive games :] he loves playing them with you but if you die in the middle of a match he gets unmotivated to finish it (⁠-⁠_⁠-⁠;⁠)

unless someone was trying to rizz you up or something during the game then yeah, HE'S GOING TO WIN.

do not play dress to impress in front of this man, he gets awfully competitive about it.

“pretty sure even cecil can dress better than that.”

“baby i think that's an eight year old.”

“still, cecil has more drip.”

gets all smug when he wins, god forbid he's not in top three he's gonna go on a rant about how unfair the world is.

he'll always vote for your fits positively though! even though they might be…. questionable at times but he loves his baby :D

minecraft with your boyfriend is actually really fun! except he accidentally set the palace that you built on fire once and literally REFUSED to touch the game for weeks after that (⁠╯⁠︵⁠╰⁠,⁠)

will get sad if an animal dies :(

has names for all your dogs and cats, calls them your children.

“don't forget, we gotta feed our children babe.” he tells you, sipping on his milkshake.

and normally you'd smile and say something equally silly except for the fact that you two were currently hanging out with a couple of friends and that sentence certainly earned some looks.

“you two-”

“in minecraft!” you'd clarify, and cue the feigned annoyance filled groans and mutters of how you two are insufferable.

also one time he got so invested in building that he literally stayed up for ten hours, building the perfect wedding venue for you two!

asked [ forced ] everyone to make minecraft accounts and invited them all to your wedding in minecraft.

he kisses you in real life too when your characters “smooch” in the pixelated game.

he's gonna marry you for real one day, just you wait.

his irises turn into literal hearts when you pull up in a cosplay.

he would also love to cosplay with you!

bonus points if it's one of his favorite characters, his ass is NOT TAKING HIS HANDS OFF OF YOU LMAOOOOOO.

and if you two do end up getting freaky, like roleplaying as the characters then yeah rip bed.

matching literally anything! matching kirby socks? sure why the hell not. matching seance dog mugs? hell yeah! he's all for it!

and yes, you two have some nerdy matching pj set.

and matching underwear too :3 you jokingly bought them but he isn't playing around when he wears them seance dog boxers!

you both keep trying to recruit oliver in one of your favorite fandoms, although the little thraxan has other plans.

“guys no im not watching [ insert media name here ] !” “but oliverrr :(”

you're bother super annoying <3

sometimes mark will send you photos of oliver enjoying some piece of media you're into and act like a proud dad.

you two go to comic con together and get carried away, ending up with wayyy too much merch.

“mark, baby i love you but i don't think we need another signed poster.” you try reasoning with him, only to eat those words back the second he flashes you his sad puppy dog eyes.

you sigh, he really has you wrapped around his finger, doesn't he?

but you have him wrapped around your finger too, because when you look at him like that, asking him to take you to this signing event of your favorite foreign author, he wastes no time in picking you up and flying you wherever you want <3

no matter the time, he just wants to see his sweetheart happy :]

you two are insufferable with your references, sometimes people think you two are talking in some alien language.

rex hears mark on the phone, just who the hell is dante sparda? and why has mark mentioned this name like thirty thousand times in the past half an hour he's been on the phone with you?

as rex said, “you two match each other's freak to a degree that is dangerous to the public.”

“hey babe i got us these matching swords!” he smiles, all happy at four in the morning at your window like it's the most normal thing ever.

you squint a little before making out the sword's design, oh it's from your favorite game.

he doesn't protest in the slightest when you attack him with kisses, this is where he belongs.

he adores movie nights, you two cuddled up on his bed, watching something he loves? he's never been happier.

you two once had to stop making out because the plot got thicker, so you two locked in! even though your lips are swollen and shiny just like his from the shared passion a few minutes ago. he could care less about the next plot hole when you're right here, pressed up against him.

he can't stop staring at your lips, god you're addicting.

he snaps out of it when his favorite character dies though ⁠(⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠∧⁠ ⁠˘⁠ ⁠:⁠ ⁠) aw man.

building legos together! he gets all bashful when you praise him when he finishes a part of the main piece.

reward him with kisses and he'll melt.

he once tried making you pancakes, except he tried to draw one of your favorite characters with the pancake batter. and he's no artist, but he tried his best.

he's now on his 48458th attempt and it's looking like your favorite character….a little….. not really.

he'll just douse them in maple syrup, that makes everything better.

when you question the odd shaped pancakes in your sleepy dazed state, he ends up telling you the truth, embarrassed.

but when you kiss him oh so softly, your kiss far sweeter than any maple syrup, his nervousness melts off until all there's left is you.

you and only you.

you two take those extremely specific uquiz quizes together like "which xyz character would hate you the most" or "who do you kin from xyz"

if he doesn't get his fav when he takes a "which character are you from seance dog" quiz he'll be all :[

"this is rigged." he says, taking another one in hopes of getting his favorite character this time.

going to the sea and painting on the pebbles and rocks with him, he loves watching the sunlight reflect off of your hair, you look like an angel, his angel. and god your eyes-

“hey does this look like eric cartman?” you show him the paintwork on your rock, snapping him out of his lovesick trance.

“babe, why is he on ozempic?” that comment makes you two giggle.

he continues, “should've picked a bigger rock, my love.”

“i saved that one for you….. you know, if we were penguins i would you the shiniest, prettiest rock i could find, which is this one so….” you shift closer to him, placing the pretty rock onto his palm.

he presses a kiss to the side of your head, fiddling with the rock in his hand. “you're adorable.”

he presses a kiss to that same rock when he's away from you on a mission, it grounds him, knowing you're there, waiting for him.

when you two end up moving in together, unpacking things takes less time than decorating your shared room.

hanging posters with him, asking him if they're centred. putting your favorite figurines on the shelves along with your favorite comics, building your own safe haven. the whole room embodies you both so well, anyone who sets foot in this room would instantly be met with a bunch of your and his interests.

his dumbass <3 accidentally ends up leaving one of his figurines on the bed, so when you two are needily making out and grinding, excited that you two wouldn't have to be quiet or keep your voices down — straddling him and pushing him down on the bed, he lets out a small squeal of surprise.

you two stop, looking at each other all 0_0

“sorry, i think-” he starts, reaching behind his back to pull out the culprit of poking him in the back, and surely it was none other than his favorite seance dog figurine, the absurdity of it all is enough to make you chuckle, he laughs sheepishly with you. a little embarrassed that seance dog ruined the sexy atmosphere.

but when you put the figurine on the nightstand, turning it to face the wall, he realizes he's gonna have the best night of his life.

and oh boy was he right :3

© digitald0rk 2025. do not translate, copy or steal any of my work RAHHHH. thanks for reading and remember you're awesomesauce! want more? click here ★

[fireinmoonshot]

love that lasts | joaquín torres x fem!reader

Pairing: Joaquín Torres x Fem!Reader Summary: When Thanos snapped his fingers and erased half of all life from the universe, he also took you from Joaquín. Five years later, he is still trying to learn how to live without you – until the Avengers can save the world. Warnings: Google Translate is my best friend – apologies if the Spanish is used incorrectly in this fic, I do not speak it but I tried my best to make sure I used words properly. Mentions of bad mental health, nightmares. It's very angsty at the start, has a bit of fluff, but mostly full of angst. Word Count: 4.2k A/N: I rewatched Infinity War and Endgame last week and came up with this idea. Since we know that Joaquín survived the snap, I decided I wanted to write something angsty about where you didn't survive and this was born. This was the most challenging fic for Joaquín I've written so far but also the most rewarding, I think. I know everyone's really moved on from the whole Infinity War/Endgame thing regarding fics, but I really wanted to write this so I hope people will enjoy it. The title of the fic comes from 'Still' by Noah Kahan – I had his album on repeat almost the entire time I was writing this.

Joaquin Torres always knew that the Avengers were going to save the world. From the moment that half of all life on Earth had disappeared, he knew that whatever had happened, the Avengers would somehow find a way to fix things. 

He just didn’t count on it being five years later.

There had been one good thing that had come out of him not being blipped, though – the fact that his mom hadn’t been either. If he’d had to live without her, he’s sure he would have gone insane. Because it was hard enough to live without you.

He’d spent days wishing that he’d been taken too. The first few days had been the worst. He’d been unable to leave the house, having to learn to grieve you when he wasn’t even sure if you were dead or just gone. 

He remembered every moment of that first day like it was yesterday. How he’d just arrived home from going to pick up some takeout for the two of you and he’d seen his neighbour turn to dust in his front yard while he’d been outside gardening, making the most of the evening light. He thought he must have just been seeing things.

He’d walked through the front door of your home and called out your name, heading into the kitchen to put the take out down before he went to find you, feeling more than confused. Then you’d appeared in the doorway to the kitchen and Joaquin had been flooded with relief.

“I’m home, angel, I have the takeout in the kitchen, come get yours” Joaquin called, starting to get the take out from the bags. “Hey, have you seen anything weird on TV today?”

“Joaquin…”

He’d looked up at you, then, just soon enough to see you say his name as you slowly started to turn to dust in front of his eyes. The blanket that had been wrapped around your shoulders fell to a pile on the floor as Joaquin stared at where you had been standing only seconds earlier. 

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice was small, hesitant. He put the container down that he’d been holding and walked towards the doorway, half expecting you to be hiding behind the wall, ready to jump out and scare him. It’d been a trick of the light, something like that. But all that was left of you was the blanket on the floor and your phone which had fallen on top of it.

He’d fallen to the floor, grabbing the blanket in his hands and holding it to his chest for what felt like hours as the feeling of numbness overtook him. The blanket still smelled like you and he never wanted to let it go.

Whatever was happening, whatever had happened to your neighbour and to you… there was nothing Joaquin could do about it. He wasn’t an Avenger, he wasn’t anyone special. He knew in that moment that he was going to have to live with it. That fact alone could have killed him.

His knees went numb after kneeling on the floor for so long but he couldn’t find it in himself to pull himself up from the floor. Not even when the sun finally set and the house was blanketed in darkness. The food on the counter had long gone cold. It was only when your phone, sitting in his lap, buzzed, that he’d been pulled out of his stupor. His mother was trying to ring you. She’d thought Joaquin had been taken when she couldn’t get a hold of him, but the second he answered your phone, she knew that you were gone.

Joaquin had stayed with his mother for a while after that, not being able to bring himself to be in the house without you there. There were memories of you in that house everywhere he looked. The sheets still smelled of you, all of your things were still in the cupboards, every time he opened up Netflix, your profile was there. Everything was there except for you. 

“You could always sell the house and move back home with me properly, mijo,” his mother had said. “It’s not smart to be paying your mortgage on that house when no one is living in it.”

He shook his head. “I know it’s not smart, mamá, but I just can’t. We bought that house together. We were making a life there. I can’t even bring myself to move her things, how could I sell the place and clear everything out?” 

His mother reached across the table and placed her hand over Joaquin’s, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Then you’ll stay here until you’re ready to go home.”

“I don’t know if it will ever really be home without her, mamá,” Joaquin said honestly, meeting her eyes. His were full of tears, as they were most days since you’d gone.

There was no hesitation as his mother stood up from the table and walked around to him, wrapping her arms around him to pull him into a hug. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “She was the love of your life. Just like your father was the love of mine. You don’t have to move on like she never existed, mijo. Time will continue to pass and she will continue to be with you, even when you cannot see her.”

Joaquin sniffed, holding his mother close as he cried. “I really love her, mamá,” he murmured, not really expecting her to hear him since his voice was so muffled.

She did, though. Gently rubbing his back, she closed her eyes and let out a long, shaky sigh. “I know you do. I loved her too, mijo. Just like she was my own,” she hummed. “Don’t lose hope. She will return to you one day, I believe that. Your soulmate will find you wherever you are, in any life.”

As the years went on, Joaquin started to believe that this was the way it was always going to be. The Avengers had not saved the world like he thought they would. And he was going to have to learn to live the rest of his life with only memories of you. Like his mother had said, time continued to pass, no matter how much he wished it wouldn’t.

The world changed. He changed. Things became darker and he became darker with them, though he desperately tried to keep the spark alive in his chest – if only because he knew that was what you’d want him to do. You would want him to still be the same Joaquin that you’d loved, but how could he be that person without you?

He threw himself into his job, working day and night to try and keep himself afloat. It seemed strange to be doing such mundane things in a world that was so different. To have to keep earning money to pay the mortgage of your house. To have to get out of bed every morning and shave. To have to make food for himself to eat during the day. To have to go to the grocery store to get milk for breakfasts and coffees.

Five years had passed slowly. Joaquin had made it through them relatively unscathed, with a few mental scars here and there. Every day he was grateful that he still had his mom. That she was there to comfort him when the days were hard and that he was still alive to be there for her as well. If she’d been alone through all of this, it would have broken Joaquin’s heart even more.

When he eventually moved back into your home, every time he cooked dinner it was like you were in the room with him. He could feel your hand on his back as he cooked, your arms around his waist as he washed the dishes. It was like you were still there with him, but then he’d blink and the memories were gone, washed down the sink with the water he drained.

He still cooked enough food for two people before realising it was only him. For a while, he could never bring himself to eat the second serving, until times got harder and he couldn’t afford to waste anything. 

He would be laying in bed at night and he could swear he could feel your arm draped across his side. He could feel the ghost of your kisses on his lips. Your side of the bed was empty every night and yet, he could never bring himself to wash the pillowcase you’d once slept on for fear of the way you smelt disappearing entirely, forcing him to lose another part of you. He couldn’t lose anymore of you.

His friends who had survived the blip had suggested that he put himself back out there. Go on a date, find someone new. There were plenty of stories of people who had gone to support groups after losing loved ones and had found new love there. The likelihood of everyone who had been blipped coming back was slim to none, so why not? But Joaquin could never bring himself to let you go. Even just thinking about going on a date with someone else filled him with guilt. People had tried to set him up on dates but he had never gone through with actually going on any of them. 

His mom was the only one who understood. Even if it meant that her baby would never be able to give her the grandchildren she’d wanted for so long, it didn’t matter to her. She had loved you like you were her own child. All she wanted was for Joaquin to be happy and for some miracle to bring you back to him so that he could be. But even she had lost hope after the past five years that anything could bring you back to him. 

And then… the Avengers saved the world.

~~~

That morning, Joaquin is sitting in a coffee shop – one that had been your favourite before you were gone. He’s missing you a little more than normal this morning and had decided that a good way to feel like he was with you would be to come out and spend time at a place you loved. He’s taking a sip of his coffee when someone suddenly appears in the chair opposite him.

Joaquin almost chokes on his drink, coughing a little as he looks at the man in front of him. He hadn’t walked in from anywhere, he hadn’t been in the coffee shop before. He’d just… appeared. What the hell was going on?

“What the…” the man says, looking around the coffee shop with a confused and haunted look in his eyes. “You’re not my wife… I was just sitting here with her… Where is Sylvia?”

Joaquin’s eyes widen. For a moment he wonders if the man is just confused, maybe there’s something wrong with him mentally and this is his way of asking Joaquin for help… but then, on the table in front of him, his phone lights up and starts to ring.

The contact photo is of you and the name on the screen is yours.

He drops his coffee, spilling a little on the table as he reaches for his phone. His hands are already starting to shake. A part of him thinks this must all be a cruel joke. Someone has broken into your house and stolen your phone, or there’s some kind of technological glitch. But another part of him, the part that is still hoping after all these years, truly believes that when he answers the phone, your voice will be the one he hears on the other end of the line. 

“Angel?” Joaquin’s voice is hopeful as he holds his phone up to his ear and presses the answer button. “Is that you?”

There’s a moment of silence on the other end of the line and Joaquin’s stomach drops. But then he hears it. “Joaquin… where are you? What’s going on?” Your voice – your voice on the other end of the line. It’s real. By some miracle, you’re home. “You were just unpacking the takeout and then…”

“Angel, just stay there, okay? I’m coming home,” Joaquin says to you, grabbing his coat off the back of his chair as he stands up. “I’m so sorry, sir. You should call your wife,” he mutters to the man still sitting on the chair opposite him, looking confused.

He takes off at a run, almost running straight into a few people walking through the door of the cafe. He doesn’t hang up the phone the entire time he’s running home, just grateful that your favourite coffee shop is within walking distance of your house. He’s grateful that he wasn’t driving – he doubts he’d be able to focus on the road properly, knowing that you’re home and waiting for him.

Joaquin runs faster than he’s ever run in his entire life. His throat hurts from his heavy breathing and the air rushing in and there’s a stitch forming on his side. There’s sweat dripping down his forehead, owing to the sweater he’d put on this morning and the pace at which he’s running. But he’s not going to stop or slow down for even a second until he gets to you.

Once he reaches your street, he pushes himself to run even faster. He can see your house in the distance and he hopes he’s not dreaming as he runs towards it. He doesn’t think he can deal with the pain of walking inside the house and not seeing you inside again. 

He’s breathing heavily as he reaches the front door, fumbling in his pocket for the key. He doesn’t even notice his neighbour in the front yard, the one he’d seen disappear five years ago, standing right where he’d disappeared, holding his wife close.

Joaquin doesn’t manage to get the key in the front door before it’s pulled open, his hands shaking too much with adrenaline. His head snaps up and his eyes fall on you, your hand on the door handle and your cheeks tear-streaked as you look at him.

“Oh, dios mío,” Joaquin mutters, instantly stepping inside the door and wrapping his arms around you. He holds you tightly to his chest, worried that you’re going to disappear from his arms for good this time. “Are you real? Are you actually here? I’m dreaming. I must be dreaming. This can’t be real.”

Your hands fist the fabric of his sweater as he holds you close. Whatever happened, you don’t really know yet, but what you do know is that Joaquin is acting like he hasn’t seen you for years. The house looks the same, you’d noticed, as you’d walked around before Joaquin came home and you heard the sound of his keys at the door. But something is off.

“I’m real, Joaquin,” you murmur into his ear. “You’re not dreaming. But I don’t know what’s going on… where did you go? You were unpacking takeout and then you were gone.”

Joaquin pulls away from the hug but still keeps his arms firmly wrapped around your waist. He can’t bring himself to let go and he fears it’s going to be that way forever now. “Angel, it’s… it’s been five years since I last saw you. Thanos… he wiped out half of all life in the universe… you were– you were gone.” Tears start to fall down Joaquin’s cheeks and he doesn’t realise until your hand moves to gently swipe them away. He leans into your palm, finding comfort in the feeling of your warm hand on his cheek. “But the Avengers… whatever they did brought you back to me. It was them, I know it must’ve been.”

He internally curses himself for ever doubting them.

“Five years?” You frown, eyebrows knotting together as you try and piece things together in your mind. For you, it had just been like you’d blinked and things had changed but for Joaquin… it had been five years. Five years without you, and yet when you’d called… he had literally come running. “I was gone for five years?”

Joaquin nods, reaching one hand up to wipe the tears from your own face. He can’t imagine how terrifying it must have been for you to come back and not find him anywhere, for you to be alone in the house. He’s more grateful than ever now that he never tried to sell the house. If you’d come back and an entire new family had been living in your house…

“They were the hardest five years of my life, angel,” he says softly. “I thought that you were gone forever.”

You look at him for a moment, a little confused. “But you still live here… you still kept my number in your phone… you– Joaquin, you came running to me when I called… what have you been doing for the last five years?”

Joaquin’s heart cracks a little in his chest. “Angel, I’ve been waiting for you.” 

With that, he can’t bring himself to maintain his self control any longer. The hand that had wiped the tears off your cheeks gently holds the back of your neck as he presses his lips to yours. You reciprocate immediately. Five years of wanting, five years of waiting for something he was sure was never going to come… a kiss five years in the making. Joaquin is surprised he was able to hold off for so long. He’s never going to take advantage of kissing you ever again. 

~~~

A little later, you and Joaquin sit on the couch in the living room. Your hands are entwined, legs tangled under a blanket in front of you. It had taken a while to pull yourselves from the doorway. You were both in a little bit of shock – Joaquin in shock that you were finally back here after five years, you in shock that you had been gone that long.

“You really never dated anyone at all in the last five years?” You ask, resting your head on his shoulder as one of his fingers draws patterns on your palm that slightly tickles. 

Joaquin looks down at you and sighs. “Believe me, my friends tried to make me. They even set up a couple of dates for me to go on, but I never went on any of them. I just couldn’t bring myself to get out the front door.”

Frowning, you look up at him. “Why not?”

“Because none of them were you, angel.”

He gives your hand a squeeze and you snuggle closer into his side. You’d been insecure in your relationship at times – five years ago – but you knew you could never be insecure about it anymore. How many other people could say their partner had waited five years for them on a sliver of hope that they’d come back after disappearing from the universe? 

In his pocket, Joaquin’s phone starts to buzz. He pulls it out of his pocket and smiles as he sees his mothers contact on the screen. “I’ve got a phone call for you, mi amor.” He hands the phone to you and his heart warms as he sees your smile upon seeing who’s calling. “I think she almost missed you more than I missed you.”

You take the phone off of Joaquin and instantly hit answer, holding the phone up to your ear. “Suegrita,” is all you say and even though Joaquin isn’t holding the phone, he can already hear his mothers cries on the other side of the line. 

He motions for you to put the call on speaker. 

“Mamá, you told me not to lose hope,” he says, taking advantage of a moment of silence from the other end of the line while his mother isn’t sobbing. He’s already planning to go and see her as soon as possible – especially when she’s like this.

For a moment, there is nothing but the sound of his mothers sobs on the other end of the line, and then she speaks. “You bring her home to see me soon, mijo!” She exclaims to Joaquin. “Mi querida niña, you do not understand how happy I am that you are home with your love.” Her words are directed at you now.

There are already tears streaming down your cheeks at her words. “You must have taken really good care of him these past five years for me, suegrita,” you sniff. “Thank you for looking after him when I couldn’t.”

Joaquins arm wraps around your shoulders and squeezes tightly. 

“I knew you would come home to him one day, querida,” his mom says. “Soulmates will find each other in life no matter what comes between them. I told him that years ago.”

His mother only hangs up after Joaquin promises that he’ll bring you around to see her tomorrow. You know you’re going to need to prepare yourself for plenty of hugs and kisses from her, and even though for you it’s only been a matter of weeks since you’ve seen her, it’s been five years since she saw you. It’s going to take a while to get used to that fact. 

“Mamá took good care of me, angel,” Joaquin says, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. “I don’t know what I would have done without her here. I cried in her arms more than I can count over the past five years.” 

You frown, moving until you’re straddling Joaquin’s lap and you can hug him properly. You bury your head in his neck and one of your hands moves to rest in his hair. His arms wrap around your back. “You don’t have to cry anymore, baby.”

Joaquin chuckles a little. “I think I’m probably still going to do a lot of that. I can’t make any promises, angel,” he rubs your back. “A part of me still thinks I’m dreaming. That I’m going to wake up any second and you’re going to be gone.” 

You pull away just enough so you can look him in the eyes. “I’m real, Joaquin. I’m not going anywhere. Not unless there’s some other alien out there that’s going to get rid of half all life in the universe again.”

He scrunches up his nose. “Don’t joke about that. Too soon.” 

Smiling, you lean in and touch the tip of your nose against his gently. Joaquin takes advantage of the closeness of your face to lean up and capture your lips with his. He can feel you smiling into the kiss. Maybe if he does this enough, he can make his brain realise that this is real. That you’re here in his arms, your lips on his. That against all odds, you’re home.

~~~

He knows the nightmares aren’t going to go away any time soon. They’ve been plaguing him for years at this point. He’s lost count of the amount of times he’s woken up from a dream that you were alive, or a nightmare where he had you back only to lose you again. It’s why, when he wakes up later that night, his heart racing and sweat drenching his body, that it’s not a surprise to him.

What does surprise him is that he forgets you’re here now. It’s not until he hears your soft, sleep filled voice speak his name and feels the mattress move underneath him that he spins around from where he’d moved to sit on the edge of the bed to see you. 

“Baby, are you okay?” You ask quietly.

Joaquin takes you by surprise by pretty much launching himself at you. He places a hand on your cheek, another one on your thigh. You’re sitting up, legs crossed, staring at him full of worry. 

“Baby?” You try again.

“You’re real,” Joaquin mutters. “I’m not dreaming. It’s not a nightmare.” 

You reach up a hand to rest on the one on your cheek. “It’s not a nightmare. I’m real.”

Tears fill Joaquin’s eyes again. He’s still haunted by the nightmare, one where he’d lost you again, and his brain is just sleepy enough to make him think that this is all a dream, even after trying to convince himself that it isn’t. Even after hearing your words confirm that it isn’t. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he murmurs.

You shuffle closer to him until you’re face to face, until you can feel his unsteady breaths on your face and your noses are almost touching. “I’m not going anywhere, Joaquin.”

He brushes his lips against yours softly, barely even a kiss. “Don’t leave me.” 

You squeeze your eyes shut and kiss him properly in an attempt to wake him up a little. It’s almost like he’s still in the midst of the nightmare, that he can’t manage to pull himself out of it completely. The fact that he’s had to deal with all of this alone for the past five years makes your heart hurt. 

“I’m home now, baby,” you mutter against his lips after you pull away. “I’m not leaving you. I’m home.”

Joaquin’s arms move to pull you closer to him until you’re almost sitting in his lap. “You’re home,” he says softly. 

“I’m home,” you repeat.

He takes a moment to just breathe, then. Focusing on the feeling of your hands on him, the feeling of his hands on you, trying to ground himself. You’re home. You are really home. And for the first time in five years… Joaquin finally feels like he is home too. 

[alchemistc]

He'd had a dream about this, once. Sweat still cooling, sheets tangled at his feet, a view of Eddie Diaz's bedroom ceiling.

Sue him - Tommy's not the first guy who ever had a raunchy dream about a straight friend. For a few weeks there, both Diaz and Evan Buckley had featured heavily in his rotation. And then Evan had tried to murder his best friend and Tommy had kissed him about it and now...

Tommy shifts his weight. Slides his hand across the sheets - Evan's sheets, still familiar even if the location has changed. Christ, why had Eddie never scraped the popcorn off his ceiling? It's an easy job, really, even if it is painfully boring and time consuming, he could -

The hand that curls around his neck, just under his jaw, is light, careful, still possibly covered in Tommy's cum.

"I missed you," Evan says, and Tommy feels the panic bubbling under his skin, a miasma of humming thrumming reminders that this had been a bad idea from the start. That "randomly" running into his ex three shots deep at the bar had been one of his shittier plans, fueled by his own tipsy jealousy at seeing Evan's drinking partner grinning at him for a good hour while Tommy got progressively worse at pool.

He opens his mouth to let Evan down. He can't do this There's no world where this changes anything. For Christ's sake, he'd only done it because the possessive monster inside of him had heard Evan introduce him to Ravi Panikkar as 'my... Tommy' and the rest of his brain had left the fucking building.

"Everything is so screwed, Tommy. Eddie, and Maddie, and - I just. I want to work on this. I want - I know I didn't say it right before, but everything went to shit that day and if we could just..."

He's always done this. Fucked Tommy to the brink of brainlessness and then proceeded to talk a mile a minute like the sex they'd had was inspirational and energizing. Tommy'd been endeared by it from the start. He still is.

He fucking hates that.

"I can - we can go slow. You set the pace, Tommy, I promise."

"Buck," he starts, and everything in Evan shuts down all at once.

He's done a poor job of keeping that line drawn in his own head - all these months later and he still thinks too much about him, still thinks of him as Evan, and it's a shitty thing to do when they're both fully aware that it's something of a treat for both of them - that name that's been mostly Tommy's since the day Buck found himself at the academy with three Evan's and grinned his way through a nicknaming process.

Evan's hand unfurls from its spot, fingers slipping from where they'd been working at his earlobe. He's gone from soft and pliant glued to Tommy's side, to stiff as he rolls away, sheets travelling with him, and Tommy doesn't fight it when they shift free of him, leaving him bare as the day he was born.

At least he's got his trusty fucking walls. Those at least will keep Evan from glancing up and seeing him break his own heart in two twice over.

Evan rolls to a sit, heaves his legs over the bed. In the soft light Tommy can map out the constellation of moles on his curved back as he drops his head into his hands.

The silence is deafening.

"I, uh ... I think you should go?"

Tommy's certain he doesn't mean for it to sound like a question. He's also certain Evan Buckley has never once in his life been anything but a novice at hiding emotion in his face, body language, voice.

He's pretty sure they could do this a hundred times and Evan might just let him.

Tommy doesn't speak as he gathers his clothes. Doesn't speak as he steals furtive glances around the hem of his T-shirt, doesn't speak as he realizes he didn't even make time for cleanup so he's definitely driving home with the evidence of this night still fucking on him.

Evan's still cradling his head in his hands when Tommy shoves his foot into a boot, not bothering with laces because maybe he'll just fucking trip on the curb and fall into oncoming traffic. It might be the better option.

"I'm -."

"Don't," Evan says, just loud enough for Tommy to know he's barking around a phlegmy throat. "This is worse, just so you know. It was already bad, Tommy..."

Tommy expects there to be more, but there isn't anything. Evan's shoulders heave, and Tommy grabs his keys and phone off the side table, and he blinks and he's somehow out the door, eyes stinging and blood rushing in his ears and he honestly shouldn't be driving but he's not gonna leave his fucking truck here.

He's not entirely sure how he makes it home. He comes back to himself with scalding hot water washing away the evidence of his fuck-up, throat sore and jaw tight and his phone blowing up on the bathroom countertop.

He shouldn't feel the vindication he does that at least this time he milked enough emotion out of Evan to make him send fourteen - his phone buzzes again - fifteen texts in a row.

He feels it anyway, and just to dig the knife deeper into his own chest he shuts his phone off for the night the moment he's towelled himself dry.

Tomorrow. He'll figure it out tomorrow.

He's been telling himself that for five months - a year - his whole fucking life. Maybe one day he'll be telling the truth.

[littelovelunette]

heyy, could I request one where sevika keeps making fun of reader for "not using their brain" and things like that because they feel comfortable around her and end up acting kinda stupid, but it really hurts their feelings and they end up breaking down?

Common Sense

Sevika x Fem!Reader

You and Sevika were so comfortable with each other that you often let your mind wander. That made you get clumsy, brain foggy and stupid.

But Sevika never minded it, instead it was funny to her and she called you a dumbass because of it. In fact, Sevika found it so endearing.

You were so lovestruck by her, you didn't care to really think it through. All the "Stupid"s, "Idiot"s and other insults she threw your way always flied over your head.

You didn't care. Didn't used to. It was one of those days you felt dumber than usual.

You were trying to make sense of Sevika's gambling as she placed her cards with ease, stacking pocker chips relentlessly.

After a while of staring you decided to ask her. "Baby, how do you play that?" You asked.

"Oh you wanna learn?" Sevika asked, her tone taking on slight condescension but also mixed with affection that you failed to catch.

"Mhm..." You looked up at her, shifting close so your thigh was touching hers.

Sevika smirked, leaning back in her chair as she shuffled the deck effortlessly.

"Alright, I'll teach you, but don't expect me to go easy on you," she said, her voice laced with amusement. She slid a few chips toward you before dealing out two cards face down.

"You start with two cards," she said, nodding toward yours. "The goal is to make the best five-card hand using these and the ones I put in the center." She tapped the table before continuing.

You peeked at your cards, then back at her. "Okay… but how do I know if my hand is good?"

Sevika's smirk twitched, her brow raising like she couldn't believe you were asking. "Are you serious?" she scoffed. "You’ve never played poker before?"

You shook your head, and she sighed albeit a bit dramatically, rubbing her temple. "Damn. Alright, listen up, genius." She leaned forward, tapping your cards. "Pairs are good. Three of a kind is better. A straight is five numbers in a row. A flush means all the same suit. Full house? Three of a kind plus a pair."

She studied your expression for a moment before scoffing again. "You're really struggling with this, huh?" Her voice was teasing, but the way her lips curled into an amused smirk made your face heat up.

"This is, like, common sense, babe. You gotta use that brain of yours."

Flipping over three cards in the middle of the table, she continued, "This is the flop. Now you figure out if these help your hand or not. But don't just stare at them like they’ll speak to you." She chuckled, shaking her head. "Poker ain't just about the cards. It’s about reading people."

Her grey eyes locked onto yours, sharp with amusement. "And right now? You look like a fish trying to do algebra."

You knew the tears were building behind your eyes and you saw by the corner of your eyes that Silco's men were approaching the table seeing Sevika.

It was a perfect excuse to leave now.

"I-I'm gonna go home, this poker stuff is really getting to my brain." You said, voice wavering a little which gave away the clear hurt in you.

Sevika caught onto it, eyebrows furrowing. She wanted to say something but didn't want to push you too hard in public.

"I'll see you tonight." You said, eyes glossy before you turned and stalked off. Sevika stared where your figure had disappeared through the exit, one hand raised as if she would've grabbed your wrist but then she retracted her hand.

You hadn't even kissed her goodbye.

When you reached home, you had a complete breakdown and cried in bed for hours before eventually deciding on just eating ice-cream until Sevika got back.

You were in bed with a spoon in hand, deep asleep snoring softly against the bedsheets with the empty tub of ice-cream beside you.

Sevika unlocked the door and stepped inside frowning because you would usually jump at her and tell her how much you had missed her.

But there was no sign of you today.

She cautiously walked inside the bedroom and then her heart almost melted seeing your adorable state.

Sure— some would say it was messy and gross the way you were snoring, drooling and eating ice-cream in bed— but to Sevika it was equivalent to a baby kitten snuggled and asleep.

Sevika took off her clothes until she was left in a tanktop and shorts. She walked closer, gently prying the spoon out of your small hand. She moved the empty tub of ice-cream away.

"Baby." She called softly pulling you into her lap after she got in bed. "I'm sorry." She mumbled.

"Mmm..?" You sleepily blinked up at her. "Forget it. I'm too sad to be mad."

"Which is why I'm apologising. I'm sorry baby I didn't mean you were that dumb. You're just... Silly." This time when Sevika said it, she was being playful and you knew it. The little curve at the corner of her lips gave it away.

You hit her.

"Don't you dare." You pouted.

Sevika chuckled and brought you close to her chest. "Never stop being stupid around me. You're all I have left. And I'm genuinely..." Sevika paused. "Afraid to lose you." She finished with somewhat great difficulty admitting she was scared of something for once.

"Nothing bad's gonna happen." You kissed her and she returned it.

[pythonmoth]

cw: suicidal and homicidal thoughts. johnny is jealous and inconsistent. brief infantilization by tf141. reader is angry and pissed. author is projecting their own likes, sorry. pretty chill update. johnny is a simp loser.

primary simon x f!reader. poly tf141.

First | Last | Next

He wants the world to eat him alive, to swallow him and to forever keep him down underground so he never makes a single mistake in front of you ever again. To see you running away in panic because of him is something he will probably never recover from. He barely has the time to grimace when he hears you rushing away, someone right behind you; he just assumes it's Simon.

Johnny decides to just take a moment to clean up before going after you as well, when he hears someone getting into the kitchen. He looks up, expecting the Capt'n to be here to scold him, but when he sees Simon instead, he raises an eyebrow.

"Ah, it's you. I tripped" Johnny grumbles, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You hurt yourself".

"Just a tiny cut, 's nothing. Where did she go?" Johnny questions, bringing his thumb to his mouth, licking the drop of blood clean.

"I don't know. Practically bolted when you dropped the plate".

Johnny stares at him with slowly growing irritation. "And what are you doing here? I must've scared her" he sighs, standing up. "Where to?"

"Garrick already went after her".

"So?"

"They're getting along. A lot".

Johnny blinks again.

Smack.

"What the fuck? What was that for now?" Simon growls out, rubbing his head. Johnny shakes his head, still expecting an answer. Simon sighs. "Over there. Come on".

Simon guides him, their feet barely making any noise, used to being quiet and, also, because they don't want to spook you any longer. When Johnny sees, however, you're… being taken care of, he curses quietly. Gaz is cupping your cheeks, kissing you. And he feels like he just died inside a little bit.

When the Lieutenant doesn't move, seemingly not breathing, he grips his arm, whispering to him to move. They can't just invade your privacy like this, especially not when it's clear they aren't needed.

At least, Johnny knows so now.

He can't manage to take Simon with him so he walks away alone, his eye twitching in annoyance. Really, he doesn't mind you're with Gaz; they all know what's happening between the whole team, and it's not a secret they've very little boundaries. It was gonna happen one way or another, so that's really not the problem. Sure, he's pissed and a little jealous, but the problem is that he is not there.

He can't hold you in his arms and protect you from the panic if he's the reason for it, if Simon is the reason for it. He's aware of that, he's just fucking pissed. Pissed at himself, pissed at the Capt'n, pissed at the bastard who framed you and fucking pissed at the higher ups. If he could, if he's given a single opportunity, he won't hesitate to grab his rifle and smack them with the heel so hard that their noses cave in so he can watch them choke in their own blood.

For now, though, he goes sit in the living room, watching as the Capt'n snores, the movie still rolling in the back, his mind a goddamn mess. He can't stop his mind from going back to you crying in Gaz arms and him kissing you like that. Again, he's jealous for so many reasons. It's just… odd.

You've never been interested in Gaz, as far as he knows, and Simon looked so surprised that it's obvious you didn't tell him anything either. You're supposed to talk about those things! He can't blame you, he obviously understands why this connection is happening right now, but—

He barely registers Simon's grabbing his shoulder and pushing him out of your house until he's inside of the car, his mind locking away his own fear of scaring you now that he's out of your space, and allows himself to be pissed at the whole situation with Gaz.

Hell, if you talked to Simon about him, why couldn't you do the same thing with them?

Simon drives them away, clearly needing a moment. Johnny's hand is shaking over his knee, and only when Simon stops the car in a random parking lot, does he say anything.

"I'm gonna kill him" he says, not really meaning it. He does want to punch him, though.

"No, you won't".

"So what? We say nothing? We can't even fucking look at her and she's—"

"That's none of our business now" Simon snaps, getting out of the car. Johnny follows right away, both of the doors snapping shut harshly enough to echo in the parking lot.

"You can't possibly be okay with that" Johnny groans, tugging on his hair as he starts pacing next to the car. "Fuck that!"

Simon sighs, lifting his mask just enough to rub on his face. "Like hell I am, Johnny. We don't have the face to call them out on it. We've no right to be jealous".

"And why the hell not? She's ours, not his. Like hell I'm sitting here doing nothing".

That makes Simon's eye twitch, but he fights hard to ignore it. "She's not, Johnny" he reminds him, crossing his arms. "Not anymore. She was clear about it".

His heart pounding in his chest, denial burning deep in his core, Johnny marches up in front of Simon with a snarl, gripping the Lieutenant’s collar. "We made a huge mistake, aye. But I thought we were okay now. We've been talking, she's been great. Why she suddenly freaked out is what I just can't understand".

He remembers, just like Simon, falling asleep to your breathing, to your snoring, to your shuffling in the bed. Even if it was through the phone, it had meant something. Why is it that now—

Simon smacks his hand away. "Stop that. Maybe it was easier on the phone. You saw how she reacted when you dropped the plate".

"Ah. So it's my fault then? It started ever since she saw your fucking mask" Johnny snaps. Immediately, he regrets it. He knows it's not fair. Not fair on him, not fair on Simon and definitely not fair on you. It's like he just can't think about what he's saying.

"Calm the fuck down, Johnny. It's our fault she's like that. We've enough shame and guilt to share so don't come and dump it all on me" Simon states, firm. His tone might shake a little, and Johnny wants to cry, but his mind is spinning with so much guilt that he can't focus. "We went through this with Price. We knew it'd take time".

"Aye! I know that! But why him? And why are you so awfully calm about this?" Johnny snaps at him, gripping his collar again. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you're giving up on it. On us".

Simon's shoulders slump, looking at him in a terrible, heavy silence. There's no need for words. Simon doesn't stop him as Johnny grips his tshirt and pins him against the car, looking like he's only bracing himself for an angry punch or a beat up.

"You can't be serious" Johnny snaps again, his hands shaking where he's holding Simon, his own eyes burning with unshed tears, his throat closing up. "Where does that leave us?"

"That leaves us wherever she wants us to be" Simon mumbles, a hand coming up to rest on his nape, gripping him tight, seemingly uncaring of how aggressive Johnny feels. "You get that, don't you? We hurt her, Johnny. We're lucky she wants to talk to us at all".

That does it for him.

Unable to control it, he lets the regret, the pain, and his heartbreak take over, and finally bursts into tears, head falling against Simon's chest as his body breaks, sobbing. He knows he's being unfair, he knows he should be just wanting you to be happy and to enjoy yourself, even if it isn't with them. He knows. He's just… so hurt. He feels like he's being thrown away like an unfitting piece in the puzzle you're slowly building again, along with Simon. He's scared they won't be accepted back, afraid they’ll no longer be necessary in your life.

He doesn't want to be the only one, at all, he just wants to be there for you, too.

A while later, his body finally goes slack after crying so much, and Johnny wipes his face clean, looking up at Simon. Wordlessly, the Lieutenant presses a comforting, deep kiss to his lips before he slips his mask on again, sighing. "Well. Let's take a little drive before going back".

"This fucking sucks" Johnny mumbles, absolutely defeated. He can't keep on denying the situation, and he just… has to accept that this is what it is.

"Very much so".

"I still wanna punch him".

"I know".

Johnny hesitates, but he doesn't hold it back. "I'm also kinda jealous".

"I know" Simon grumbles quietly, his eye twitching behind the mask. Johnny can truly understand the feeling.

"We should drive off a cliff and die".

"Noted".

In the end, they just sit inside of the car for a while, both of them silently going through the whole situation. Johnny's mind is silent for once, as if he had needed a good sobbing session to ease himself into no longer denying the consequences.

The drive back to your home is quiet, but it feels... peaceful. Johnny's shoulders are relaxed, even if he feels himself snarling slightly as he thinks of Gaz. It's just great, but… he's got no right to question you.

So when they're back, Gaz’ lips split in a bright grin as you place gummy bears all over Price's face, they both can't help but smile at them, hearts full.

You seem happy.

You look up at them, your eyes wide. This time, however, you're not afraid. You raise a hand and motion them to be quiet and come over, Gaz handing them the whipped cream.

This is enough, Johnny thinks. He gets to see you smile, enjoy yourself, even if he isn't allowed to be there with you like Gaz is.

Deep down, he can't be upset.

After the Capt'n uses you as his personal napkin for being a brat, your high pitched screeches of delight making his heart pound, you invite them to sleep over. And you're really serious about it. He doesn't even mind it when you hand them those stupid pink pajamas you bought them for your 5th anniversary with the team; they “forgot” about them every time they came over, so they've never truly left your house. Now, however, Johnny will personally skin alive anyone who dares denying you this little thing. Fortunately, they just sigh and change.

Blankets over the carpet, over the couch, bodies a lot closer than before, the pink of the pajamas actually look pretty good when illuminated only by the movie. Johnny doesn't even know why you chose them. They're… ponies. One has wings. Why do they have such crazy blowouts and why does the rainbow one look like a lesbian?

Of course, they want you to feel comfortable, so when it comes down to choosing the movie, they all turn to you, but Johnny isn't sure he likes that grin.

Sure enough, more ponies.

“That's a mustang, and he's a great horse so mind your manners” you scold him when he complains, handing him the popcorn. He wouldn't mind watching ten hours of paint drying if you're willing to talk to him, even if it's to call him an idiot.

As the movie slowly comes to the end, Johnny sees the Capt'n wiping his tears in silence, even Simon's eyes are a little shiny, and cheeky, annoying-as-hell Gaz? He's sobbing, muffling his mouth with a hand. You're no better, your bottom lip trembling as fat tears stream down your cheeks.

“It's just a movie” Johnny sighs, crossing his arms.

The rest do not hold back their retorts at all, calling him hypocritical and heartless. Even Simon doesn't back him up, pointing at his face.

“We can see the tear streaks. You ain't fooling anybody”.

“It's the allergies!” Johnny yells over their loud voices, shamelessly reaching up to wipe his face.

That gets a loud laugh from you, and that's enough for him. Johnny doesn't mind being the target of their teasing, as long as you're part of it.

As they slowly settle down, munching on crisps and some baking goods you made a few days ago, the Capt'n asks what everyone's been dreading to mention. The Question.

Johnny almost throws a pillow his way, but he swallows thickly and discreetly places a hand over Simon's tense thigh, all of them waiting.

“Will you be changing teams?” the Capt'n questions, his shoulders forcefully relaxed, his mouth stuffed with a creamy tart. Johnny can see how hard he's trying to be calm, not wanting to force an answer out of you. “I can… well, recommend a few other teams. Or I can show you a few options, I just need a few days to go over the files”.

You wave a dismissive hand, shaking your head. Everyone's heads whip in your direction, eyes widening slightly in surprise. “Listen, I know… I know what I said, but I already know how we all work, and I'm already comfortable with you. Starting over, with the weight of the reason why I would be changing teams… I don't want that”.

“What did your therapist say?” Simon asks directly, his eyes firm on yours. “Did you discuss it with them?”

“I did. She advised me against it, but… I think I can handle it. Maybe it's gonna take a little while, but—”

“What if it's too much? Trust is very important, and we… we can't blame you for not trusting us. Look, maybe you should reconsider it” Johnny interrupts you, his chest tight. He doesn't want you to leave, but if you get hurt because you can't trust them and accidentally do something to put you in danger… he'd rather avoid that. “It's an important decision”.

“I understand that” you insist, your left eye twitching a little. “I'm aware it could be difficult if I panic again. That's why I'm in therapy, after all, so I can–”

“Therapy can only help so much, anyway. We can train together, and then see if you're feeling up for it. If not, I can always check the files” the Capt'n interrupts you, mostly talking to himself, his lips pursed in thought.

“Besides, the higher ups probably won't want anybody talking about this. Maybe they won't even let you change teams at all” Gaz adds, rubbing his cheek.

“That's why I'm trying to–”

“If they don't let her change teams, we could always call them out on their bullshit” Simon huffs, crossing his arms, now focused on the rest of the men. “What are they gonna do? Kill us, send us away? People will talk”.

“Aye. We can always do it ourselves after all”.

"Good idea. We could—"

“Enough!” you snap, making them all turn to you at your outburst. "I've been with you idiots for nine years! Do you seriously want me to leave?”

“No!” Johnny shrieks, alarmed. The rest shake their heads, Simon's hand halfway to rest on your arm, as if wanting to sooth you, but you pull your arm away.

“Then stop questioning me, goddamn it! I'm not a child, alright?” your voice raises, your eye still twitching. "And I'm not dumb, you big, stupid idiots".

For a moment, everyone's silent.

"You're right" the Capt'n says first, his cheeks a little bright for being yelled at. He's probably not used to that, not by those who aren't his superiors. Right now, he's not just the Capt'n, but also John, anyway. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to question your decisions, I'm just... worried".

"And I appreciate that" you grunt, rubbing your forehead roughly. "I just... stop trying to make this decision for me".

With your words now deep in their hearts, they all go quiet for a long moment, awkwardly looking anywhere but in your direction.

Johnny is incredibly happy about it.

He knows it's selfish and awful of him to be happy you want to stay with them, but he also knows it will probably be difficult at first, especially when you see them with their uniforms again. He wants to help, to be there.

Eventually, they all fall in a comfortable conversation again, Johnny pressed against the armrest of the couch, you squeezed between him and Simon —much to his surprise and contentment—. Gaz and the Capt'n are bickering over something Johnny doesn't really catch as they sit on the blankets in front of them. He's just so aware of you being next to him, willingly, that nothing else matters for now.

At some point, he sees you yawning.

It doesn't take long for you to excuse yourself, leaving them to get comfortable in the guest room. Johnny decides not to focus on Gaz and you being in this room just a few hours ago. With a little look in Gaz’ direction, you give them your goodnights and walk up the stairs.

They're sharing the bed, since it's easier and better than to sleep on the floor. Still wearing those ridiculous pink pajamas —they are very comfortable, if you ask him—, they set their bags filled with clean clothes on the side and start getting ready to sleep. Of course, that doesn't happen right away.

The Capt'n scrolls down his phone, resting against the headboard, and when Johnny and Simon get lost in their conversation, they both notice Gaz discreetly leaves the room. Simon throws a little look his way, and Johnny can only nod slightly. Reaching out to grab the man's hand, he just keeps on talking, distracting both of them.

Despite looking fully focused on his phone, Johnny can tell the Capt'n is listening and very much alert, because everytime they both complain about anything, and everytime Simon hums instead of giving him a real answer, the Capt'n's lips curl in a very subtle smile.

The door to your room gently creaks open, two dark eyes staring at you. You grin from your bathroom, your face white and soapy as you wash it with your fingertips, foam up to your hairline and down your throat.

“Come on in. I’m almost done” you say, leaning down to rinse your face. With closed eyes, you hear as Gaz’ moves over to your bed, laying down on it with a low groan, his back cracking.

As you go on with your skincare, carefully massaging your skin, Gaz lays there, watching the video that’s playing on your tv, even if you know he doesn’t understand a single word. You take your time, content to just let him hang out with you. His eyes leave the screen when you get closer, opening his arms for you, like all those months back in the clinic.

With a mischievous grin, you drop all your body weight on him with the intention of making him groan, but he only wraps his arms around you and nuzzles into your neck, nearly flipping you onto your back, mumbling something about how nice you smell. Gaz pulls back just enough to cup your cheeks, smelling the watermelon lip balm on your lips, studying how the creams you used just now make your face look shiny. He doesn’t tell you, but your eyebrows are also a little funny looking, brushed in many directions, but Gaz does reach up and uses his thumb to brush them back in place.

With no need for words, he just curls around you, his nose buried deep in your neck as he stretches, an arm comfortably sneaking under the pillow. That’s when he pulls back and raises an eyebrow at you, lifting the pillow under his head.

“What—” he grunts, incredibly amused, as he looks down at the knife that’s not-so-safely hidden.

With a grin, you shift and reach down between the headboard and the mattress, showing him another big knife that’s hidden there. You aren’t allowed guns until the psychologist says it is okay, so knives it is. Gaz only rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around you again. “Fair, I suppose” he mumbles, burying himself in your neck again.

You just let him, caressing his arms and enjoying the closeness until he falls asleep. He looks peaceful and content, and you really, really want to sleep next to him, but your mind is working a little too much, so you slowly get up the bed, quietly walking around the room, hoping it will tire you again.

It’s something that often happens to you. You’re tired and sleepy, until you’re in bed and then you can’t sleep for hours and hours on end.

You stare at the paintings you’ve gotten, the ones you painted yourself. Looking a little to the left, you can see the music albums you got when you were in your early twenties, now mostly a good memory, and something nice to listen to when you’re feeling low. As you get closer to your bookshelf, you pick a random book, vaguely remembering how many times you’ve read it in the past.

Lost in thoughts you can’t even begin to understand and organize, you turn to the guitar in the corner of the room. It’s been there for over ten years, and you never learned how to play it. With a soft huff of amusement, you walk over to your desk, looking down at the pictures you have there. Your parents, your siblings, the team, and the girls… you didn’t even say goodbye. You hope they aren’t so mad they weren’t invited today. You make a mental note to contact them after the guys leave.

Besides, Simon, Johnny and Gaz aren’t your friends. Not really, at least. And Price is basically like your dad when you’re around him, even if he’s fun to talk to, and reliable.

You reach out to take one of the pictures in your hands. A simple black frame, Johnny and Simon on either side of you, all of you wearing your uniforms, Simon’s mask in place. The sight of the mask makes your eye twitch, but it’s nothing too bad.

Setting the frame down, your thoughts become a little more overwhelming, memories of the whole team chatting by the mess hall, munching down on stale bread and days-old tea that made Simon scowl. You grin as you remember Johnny sprinting after you when you took his clothes from the showers a couple years ago, giving the soldiers a whole show by running entirely naked, only to slip and end face first against a wall. He had thrown you into the showers with your uniform, messing with your already rusty hair. Really, you had it coming. You couldn’t even be mad.

Your shoulders slumping, you turn to Gaz.

Your feelings for him have been changing for a while now. The first kiss was innocent, calm, and now, you couldn’t lie to yourself. It isn’t in your plans to deny yourself a true connection, but you had been a little hesitant, because of Johnny, because of… Simon.

You miss him. Dearly. Sometimes it feels like your heart can’t take it, like you’re dying every time you aren’t in his arms, but the panic hasn’t left. The fear is small, less… destructive and loud, but still there, regardless. You’re aware they will never hurt you again, not like that, not after everything, not with the knowledge that they were manipulated once. You know they will forever doubt the higher ups, even Price. That doesn’t mean your fear is irrational.

That doesn’t mean it makes them less guilty.

For months, you’ve wished it’s all over. It wasn’t entirely difficult for you to understand and, in your heart, you’ve already forgiven them, but… forget? That will never be possible, and you’re aware. Perhaps hugging Simon will never feel the same, but you also haven’t given yourself the time to savour it again.

Lost in thought, who knows for how long, you accidentally hit the chair with your toes, hissing loud enough that it startles Gaz awake. He sits up in alarm, but when he realizes you’re physically okay, he stretches and calmly walks over to you, smiling when you give him an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry I woke you up” you hum quietly, placing your hands on his shoulders when he wraps his arms around your waist.

“Hm, ‘s alright. Shouldn’t have fallen asleep. I’ll get going” he mumbles, pressing a soft kiss to your lips. It makes your heart tremble with contentment.

After he leaves, the exhaustion hits you like a truck, as if your mind was no longer in alert. You barely manage to turn the lights off, before you curl into your bed, body melting into your bedsheets, Gaz’ scent all over the pillow.

Just a little while after Gaz comes back, Simon turns onto his side, his back using his arm as support, and starts snoring pretty quickly.

Johnny always teases him about it. He falls asleep like a dad. He’s out not even two minutes in.

He wasn’t sleepy yet, and fortunately Gaz wasn’t either. They talk in low mumbles so they don’t wake Simon nor the Capt’n up.

Gaz is still pretty flustered because he was called out on dating the Capt’n, but Johnny doesn’t understand why. Did he really think nobody knew? Everyone with eyes —and, much unfortunate, good hearing—, could tell.

“She was in a pretty bad shape” Gaz mumbles quietly, his breath brushing over Johnny’s lips. “I think she snapped out of the panic because I hugged her. Dunno, maybe compression helps?”

Johnny makes a mental note to get you a weighted blanket. He would take his phone out to do it right now, but Gaz is still talking, and doesn’t want to interrupt.

“I kinda fell asleep on her bed, so we didn’t really talk” Gaz admits, scrunching his nose up. Johnny’s eyes are immediately fixed on the movement. “But she looked a little better”.

“I’m happy she can rely on you, Gaz. You can actually help right now, and she… she needs that” Johnny hums lowly, his lips pursing slightly as his eyes burn. He’s too embarrassed to reach up to wipe the single tear away, but Gaz beats him to it.

“C’mere” he huffs.

A little surprised, but fully willing, Johnny accepts the hug. He holds Gaz’ head against his chest, both of them groaning quietly at the instant warmth between them. Johnny is hyper aware of Gaz’ heartbeat against his own, but they remain in silence, comforting each other. It’s not the first time they’ve cuddled to sleep, but… to Johnny, it feels different. He can only hope it isn’t in his mind only.

Next to Gaz’, Price’s shoulders relax very subtly, lips curling up as he also lets himself fall asleep.

The next morning, Johnny wakes up earlier than everyone else, feeling energized and content. Who knew he actually needed a good cuddling session with Gaz to fix his problems.

Wearing only those pink pajama pants, he makes his way to the kitchen, carrying one of his backpacks to take his headphones out, not wanting to disturb anybody. As silently as possible, he brews coffee and some tea, washing his hands as he starts preparing a few ingredients to cook breakfast. Head in the fridge, music echoing in his brain, he has no idea someone is sneaking up behind him.

He jumps off his skin when he feels a cold hand on his bare back. Johnny hisses as he hits his head with the fridge, rubbing it as he straightens up, turning so he can snarl at whoever startled him.

All he sees is a messy head, pillow-marked cheeks, and a bright smile. Your eyes are twinkling as you look up at him.

Johnny forgets it all about being embarrassed.

You join him so easily, stealing some of the coffee as you help him cook. It is your kitchen, after all. He lets you take his headphones, watching as you shake your shoulders to his music, his eyes filled with hope as he tries not to end up cutting his finger off because he can’t stop staring. It’s more than enough for him to see you humming the song very quietly, sipping your coffee.

It’s domestic. Warm. It feels like he’s finally home. He doesn’t even care if you haven’t really said a word, because the way you trust your back to him tells him enough.

At some point, he catches Gaz getting out of the guest room, his eyes still very misty with sleep. You’re facing somewhere else so you don’t see him, but Gaz realizes it’s just the two of you and grins at Johnny, quietly shuffling back into the room, leaving them alone. He’s very thankful for that, because right away, you turn to him, taking your headphones off.

“It’s done. Let’s eat!”

Much to his contentment, you two end up having breakfast alone, even if it’s obvious to him the rest are already awake and starving, but he enjoys this little moment, your soft voice and your happy humming as you eat. Johnny tries not to be too creepy by staring at you so intently, but he loves the way you sip on the coffee he made, the way you munch on the salted veggies he made for you.

The door of the guest room quietly opens after half an hour, maybe, and Simon’s face stares at him from behind it. Johnny gives him a grin.

Not even twenty seconds later, they’re all filling your kitchen.

It’s so perfectly domestic that Johnny can only grin. He watches you talking to Gaz and the Capt'n while Simon is a little busy cooking for the rest. Sometimes you flinch when Simon moves a little too fast, but you relax almost instantly, even if your eyes follow his hands for a few seconds.

This is his family, he realizes —not for the first time—.

Maybe it’s a little complicated, but it is his.

And that's enough.

I had a lot of fun writing this and I'm glad bc it took me like eight days to finish the outline. it's been a tough week, you guys.

ANYWAY, so progress 😌 why did they have bags w clean clothes if they didn't know reader would invite them over? they were hopeful. little soap went skipping to the car to grab the bags btw

› buy me a coffee ♡

we've officially reached this part... I cannot add more people to the taglist in a single post. man, I love you guys sm ♡

taglist: @euphoricn @lilg101010 @enfppuff @carolchaotic @silas-fanfic-favs @nina-from-317 @an-ever-angry-bi @kittygonap @adventurerabby @defronix @sheepispink @iambuttwodaysold @blackhawkfanatic @malevolentghoul @thriving-n-jiving @literallegendicon @echo9821 @angel-bugz @ssc7514 @clickbait-official @hades--baby @blackhawkfanatic @sirbonesly @saki---chan @skeletonsucker @nnsissys @kukavittu @tessakate @honestlymassivetrash @s-a-v-a-n-a-34 @rayrayyio @diseasedclitoris @alex1011sdzfgh @thebumbqueen @hyunjaebaby @jillvalentinesrealwife @sodavrr @kneelforloki @vioxsoo @l4vstrr @leon-thot-kennedy @t3a-bag @dotmistbird @littlezarp @eclipsedcherry @codeseven @babydoll-143 @viennakarma @exitingmusic @lockofspades

[i-messed-up-big-time]

Lonely Birthday - Caleb

Caleb x Non Mc/Reader

divider creds: @/cafekitsune

a/n: ok this is my longest fic yet (can you tell he's my fav), chat i think i cooked with this one. this will be the last part in my lonely birthday series, i really hope you guys enjoyed it!!

Tags: angst, happy ending, female pronouns, reader is not MC, female pronouns, cursing, reader is childhood friends w/ caleb and MC, MC is a bit of a spoiled brat here (pls dkm), this is set in a timeline where there are no evols and caleb does not die in an explosion, this one acc has a backstory in comparison to the other parts I wrote, just cause jumping right into it with caleb just didnt feel right without a proper backstory, use of pet names (sadly he's not calling you pip-squeak in this one but he does call you baby), mentions of self harm (nothing happens its just a thought that passes), lmk if i missed smth

word count: 5.3k

masterlist

Xavier Rafayel Zayne Sylus

taglist: @rcvcgers

You were always overshadowed by her, from childhood to adulthood.

To make matters worse, your birthdays were only a couple of days apart, yours coming before hers, because they were so close together your birthdays were always celebrated with her on her birthday.

It was like killing two birds with one stone. Every time you complained about wanting to celebrate your birthday on your actual date you were told it would be unfair for MC.

Your own family favoured her more than you, sometimes you wondered whether they even considered you their daughter at all.

But then there was Caleb. Him and MC were inseparable when you first met her, always there whenever you two hung out. Eventually, you got close to him as well and began to hang outside of your meet ups with MC.

He always made you feel like you were your own person, not a shadow of someone else.

Maybe that's why you fell for him.

Over the course of your childhood leading into your teenage years you were head over heels for him. Anyone could see it was obvious, and to certain people it bothered them, and you never noticed it until it was too late.

●・○・●・○・●・

Despite being the same age as MC, there was one thing you had that she didn't. You were far smarter than those your age, that gave you the ability to skip ahead a couple of grades so that you were at a level that was more to your capabilities.

But your brain could only get you so far in certain circumstances.

You were in the same class as Caleb, so naturally you ended up being closer to him than you were before. It also made admiring him much more easier.

But nothing was ever easy for you. All throughout your school years MC would always barge in on your study time with Caleb, always needing help with her assignments.

Normally, it wouldn't be a problem if it was a one off thing, but anytime you were over at their place to study with Caleb, it became a tutoring session for MC. It was even more annoying when she would constantly brush off your help, only wanting Caleb to help her.

"I don't understand it when you explain it. You're always using difficult words."

MC whined whenever you would offer to help, and each time Caleb would laugh and ruffle her hair.

"It's okay pip-squeak, I'll explain it in simpler terms."

Whenever he would say that, you could feel a pang in your chest.

It was during that time you and MC started to drift apart. You never really understood until that day.

●・○・●・○・●・

The day before graduation you finally chalked up the courage to confess to Caleb, and to your surprise he had accepted.

You had anticipated a rejection, knowing that he was busy with prepping to go to Skyhaven to attend the DAA, and unfortunately a lot of his free time was spent with MC.

He had always been protective of her, he also extended that to you as well. Although the way he treated you was different than the way he treated her.

The fleeting glances, the lingering touches, the nights he would spend with you when things were bad. How could you not fall for a man who cared for you like that.

You thought it was just your delusions that there was something between the two of you, but him accepting your confession made those delusions become reality.

●・○・●・○・●・

Everyone found you guys to be an unexpected couple, they always expected Caleb to be with MC with how good their chemistry was, but he viewed her simply as his little sister. One that he was a little too protective of but you never found that to be a sense of insecurity.

Or so you thought.

You and Caleb had been dating for almost 4 years now. It was a bit rough with both of you pursuing your academics and not having much time to spend together, but you guys always made it work.

Sometimes Caleb would bail on your dates because something came up with his studies, and you believed him. Who knew it was because someone felt a little jealous of you guys spending time together.

You had never realized that the dates Caleb bailed were because someone back in Linkon wanted attention, and who better to ask than Caleb!

You and MC and drifted apart, and after your graduation you barely ever saw her unless you were home for the holidays with Caleb. You chose to be the bigger person whenever she tried to monopolize Caleb's time, knowing he saw you more often than her, you let it slide.

Although, deep down it bothered you that she would always try to be the sole focus of his attention or when you guys went out on a date she just so happened to be there too, turning it into a group hangout where you felt like the third wheel.

Crazy right? Being a third wheel in your own relationship, guess you could cross that off on your bingo card.

It was your birthday tomorrow, you and Caleb had planned a nice day in with him cooking your favourites and then baking a cake together. Both of your schedules had finally managed to align and you guys had a week off, so you planned on crashing at his place for some much needed quality time.

With it being your final year, you guys were buried in back to back assignments and exams, the stress was high. Having the week off let you guys finally have a moment to breathe.

You packed your bags for the week before making your way over to Caleb's place, it wasn't too far of a drive. You made a quick stop at the grocery store, grabbing your favourite snacks and some groceries so you can make him some food while you're at his place.

By the time you got to Caleb's place the sun was just starting to set. You walked into his place, unlocking it with the spare keys he gave you.

It was quiet in his home.

"Hmm seems like Caleb isn't back from his classes yet."

You thought out loud. Putting away your stuff in his room you made your way to the kitchen, wanting to cook Caleb some dinner.

Like magic, as soon as you were done adding the finishing touches to dinner, Caleb walked in.

"Hi baby, it smells good in here."

Caleb greeted you, coming closer to place a kiss on your lips.

You quickly sent him away to go wash up while you set the table. Dinner was nice and peaceful, it was moments like these that made you feel happy. No distractions, just you and Caleb.

You guys spent most of dinner just catching up about all the stuff that happened while you guys were apart. Caleb insisted on cleaning up since you had cooked dinner, so you were sitting on the counter next to the sink as he washed the dishes.

You chatted away mindlessly, he listened with a smile on his face, throwing in a response here and there.

Once he was done, you were about to jump off the counter when Caleb slotted himself between your legs, hands coming to rest on your hips.

You immediately went quiet, the mood shifting to something more intimate. He leaned forward and pressed his forehead against yours, nuzzling your nose with his.

You guys stayed in that position for a little bit, enjoying the moment. The rest of the evening was spent with you guys just lounging around and catching up.

As you were getting ready for bed you could feel your stomach drop with anxiety for no reason, you brushed it off as just your nerves about sharing the same bed with Caleb after a while.

You shouldn't have brushed it off.

You got changed into one of his t-shirts and got into bed, Caleb slid in not too long after, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in closer to his chest.

“Goodnight.”

He said as he placed a kiss on the top of your head.

“Goodnight.”

You replied back, snuggling closer into his chest.

●・○・●・○・●・

It was around 4 am when you woke up to feeling an empty bed next to you.

It’s still warm, Caleb must have just gotten up.

You got out of bed to go look for him. The moment you stepped out the your room you spotted him in the living room dressed to go outside.

The alarm bells in your head were going off.

“Hey, where are you going this late at night?”

It was just a simple question, one that didn’t warrant the reaction you were about to receive.

“Out.”

Caleb replied in an oddly cold tone.

What’s with that tone?

“Okay, but that’s not what I asked. Where are you going?”

You asked again, something in your gut was telling you that you were not going to like the answer.

Caleb sighed out in frustration before replying.

“MC called and needed me, so I’m going to Linkon right now. You know how she gets.”

Normally you wouldn’t say anything, but this was supposed to be your time with Caleb, no distractions.

“Why do you always go at the drop of a hat whenever she calls? You’re supposed to be spending time with me, not running to her whenever something doesn’t go her way.”

Years of frustration were finally bubbling to the surface, you didn’t want it to come out but you had to set your boundaries.

“It’s not fair to me as your girlfriend if you keep putting her above me.”

Your voiced raised a bit as you spoke, you didn’t mean for it to but having to constantly deal with MC barging in on your time with Caleb, whether she knew he was with you or not, was beyond irritating.

“I’m not putting her above you, she just requires a bit more care and attention than you do.”

That did it, if you weren’t mad before you definitely were now.

“Excuse me? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It’s exactly as I said it. MC always feels insecure, even more so when you skipped grades and left her alone. I can’t just ignore her when she calls me asking for help.”

Every explanation that came out of his mouth had you seeing red, you weren’t gonna back down either.

“Don’t you dare try to pin this on me? Just because we were friends didn’t mean that I had to be stuck to her hip 24/7. I skipped those grades cause it benefited me for my future, and if she really was my friend she would’ve been happy for me instead of sulking around like a child.”

That lit a fuse in Caleb, if there was one thing he didn’t tolerate it was anyone saying something about MC, even if it was you.

“You better watch what you say, I won’t tolerate it even it it’s you.”

His tone had you taking a step back, it was a whole different level of cold. You should’ve taken that as your sign to back off and come back to this when you guys were less heated, but who were you if not stubborn.

“Omg how could I ever insult your precious MC. You need to let go of that overprotectiveness you have when it comes to her, it puts me in a tough spot when you go running to her like a dog when its owner calls.”

You probably took it too far with that but you were past the point of no return.

“You’re so infuriating! What do you not understand that MC needs me right now, every moment I spend here on this useless conversation is more time she’s alone.”

He spat back.

I’m infuriating?

That hit a nerve, but you couldn’t let him see that, not until you got all your feelings out.

“I’m infuriating?! What about MC? Every time we get some time together she always fucking ruins it! Can’t I just have all of your attention and time without her trying to barge in? It’s like she’s trying to make it so we don’t spend any time together!”

“God you’re so fucking clingy! I knew I should have listened to MC when she warned me not to date you!”

He yelled that at you, and for the first time since the conversation started you were speechless.

“What?”

Your voice was low and filled with hurt. You couldn’t believe your ears that he would say something like that.

“You heard me. I should have never dated you. I ignored MC when she warned me, I gave you the benefit of the doubt but I should’ve fucking known. MC would have been a better girlfriend than you.”

You could hear your heart breaking, you don’t know if you’d ever recover from this.

Caleb took your silence as an opportunity to walk around you to the door, slamming it behind him.

You felt your knees give out, the tears were streaming down your face in silent pain. You didn’t know he thought of you that way, you didn’t want to think that way but a part of you felt like MC was talking bad about you behind your back. It makes no sense he would say all of that on his own.

Will I always be in her shadow? Is that all I’m worth?

You thought to yourself.

●・○・●・○・●・

God knows how long you were in that position for, no sign of Caleb coming back or any calls or texts. You picked yourself up off the floor and gathered all your things, you’d be damned if you spent another minute in this house where you clearly had no worth.

Throwing on a pair of sweatpants, you made sure to clear everything you had at Caleb’s place, not leaving a single thing behind.

You put everything in your car and drove yourself home. It was 6 in the morning so the roads were starting to get busy but it was quiet enough for you to be lost in thought, a dangerous action while driving. You were so lost in thought you didn’t notice that you were approaching a red light until it was too late.

A car had crashed into your drivers side, and everything went black.

●・○・●・○・●・

*In Linkon*

Caleb had made it outside of MC’s dorm, the argument he had with you weighing heavy on his mind but his first priority was MC.

Who knew that argument would cost him everything.

It didn’t take long before MC threw open the door and jumped into his arms. He returned the hug by patting her on the head before heading inside.

“What happened? Why did you call?”

He asked, although his mind wasn’t entirely present in the moment, it kept drifting back to you.

“Oh no reason, I was just thinking about you and decided to call you. You know it’s my birthday in a couple of days so I wanted you to spend some time with me this weekend.”

For the first time ever, Caleb felt a spark of annoyance at MC’s reasoning. She had called him earlier in tears and said he needed to come quick, he even fought with you before coming here.

Pushing that feeling aside he simply smiled.

“You know I can’t do that pip squeak, I already promised Y/N I would spend my week off with her. We had a bit of an argument before I came here, so I have to go back in a bit to make sure she’s fine.”

He said.

She’ll probably be calmed down by the time I come back.

He thought to himself, boy was he wrong.

MC pouted, not liking how things weren’t playing in her favour, but she planned on trying to come up with another excuse later to get him to stay longer.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours had passed when he got that heart stopping call.

“Hello is this Caleb Xia? This is Skyhaven Hospital calling about Miss Y/N.”

The nurse spoke in a hurried tone, tt was like someone had knocked the wind out of him.

“Speaking, what happened.”

His anxiety went through the roof, what happened after he left? Did you hurt yourself? But he never say any signs of depression, was he actually putting MC above you so much that he was ignoring your feelings?

His mind was running a mil a minute with each thought progressively getting worse, the guilt from what he said to you when you guys fought was finally kicking in.

“She was involved in a car accident and needs surgery, we require a signature from her guardian to proceed. Are you able to come in right now? It’s urgent.”

“Can I give you my consent over the phone? I’m currently in Linkon and it would take me some time to get back, I don’t want to delay the procedure.”

Although Caleb sounded composed, on the inside he was breaking.

“The surgeon said that should be fine, please do make sure to be here as soon as possible as you need to fill out some forms. We’ll get started on the surgery. Thank you.”

The nurse promptly hung up, leaving Caleb to his thoughts.

Without wasting a moment he got up and made his way to the door. MC had been trying to listen to what was being said on the phone, unable to decipher what was happening based on Caleb’s words alone. Seeing Caleb getting ready to leave she jumped up, trying to stop him.

“Where are you going? You can’t just leave, you basically just got here!”

She grabbed ahold of his arm, trying to physically stop him but it was of no use, he pulled his arm out of her grasp and tried to leave again before she spoke up.

“What excuse did she come up with this time? She does this all the time whenever you and I spend time together.”

Something in him had just snapped, it was like a fog had been lifted. Never in his life did he think he would be here getting upset at MC, but life has a funny way of proving you wrong.

“What are you even talking about, when has she ever done that?”

MC was taken aback, Caleb never questioned her whenever she said anything like this before, he would just spend some time comforting her.

“I don’t have time for this, I’m leaving. I’ll talk to you about this later.”

He said in a curt tone, leaving no room for discussion.

●・○・●・○・●・

Caleb had booked it to Skyhaven, not wanting to waste a single moment.

By the time he made it, the surgery was still ongoing. Grabbing the nearest nurse he asked for an update, unfortunately they didn’t have much of an update to give him aside from the fact that your condition was really bad when you were brought in. You had ran a red light and were hit on the drivers side by oncoming traffic, the other driver made it out with minor injuries and a concussion.

Unfortunately, you weren’t so lucky. You had been brought in with internal bleeding, a broken arm and head trauma. Your recovery period was going to be lengthy, which in turn would also hinder your ability to graduate this year like you had planned, but that was a problem for next time.

Caleb slumped onto on the chairs outside the OR, the time passed by excruciatingly slow.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of hours later the operation was finally completed.

Seeing you in that condition physically hurt him, his chest feeling constricted.

“We were able to stop the bleeding but she’s still unconscious, because the head trauma was severe it’ll take some time before she will wake up.”

Caleb nodded, listening to the doctor’s words intently. He followed the nurses to the room where you were going to be recovering, taking a seat next to the bed he held your hand in his.

“I’m sorry, please. Please just wake up soon.”

Sadly you wouldn’t wake up for another two months.

Everyday Caleb would come to take care of you, making sure to change the flowers before they began to wilt, taking responsibility to wash you and take care of your hair, hell he would even do your skincare at night so you’d wake up in perfect condition.

Although he knew deep down inside that nothing he could do could ever make up for the things he said and how he made you feel. Caleb and MC had also grown apart during this time, constantly wishing that he had never went to see her that night, if he didn’t then maybe you’d be awake and smiling next to him instead of lying still on that bed in this lifeless hospital room.

Caleb came in with a fresh bouquet of your favourite flowers, silently he replaced the old ones, making sure to get some fresh water before putting in the new bouquet. Once that was done he made his way to his usual spot, right next to your bed.

Earlier the doctor said you were recovering well, although it would take some time and rehab for you to use your arm again. You’d also be weak from the extended period of time that was spent in bed, but Caleb was nothing if not determined to make sure he was there for you every step of the way.

“Hey baby, it’s me Caleb. You’re probably tired of hearing my voice everyday huh? The doctor says you’re recovering well, you’ll just need some rehab to help you get back into the groove of things when you wake up.”

Caleb kept getting choked up the more he spoke, he just wanted you to wake up, even if you don’t want him anymore, he’d be fine with that.

“I miss you, your voice, your sweet smile, everything. If I could trade spots with you I would. So please, please just wake up. I’m sorry for everything, I’m such a shitty boyfriend aren’t I? I can’t believe I said all of that, on your birthday no less.”

At this point the tears he tried so hard to hold back started streaming down his face. It was hard to keep up that strong front, but he tried because he felt that he didn’t deserve to be sad, not when he’s to blame for you being in this state.

He grabbed a hold of your hand, bringing it to his face hoping to feel something. Anything.

He nuzzled his face in to your hand as he silently cried. It wasn’t long before he was passed out in that chair, still holding your hand to his face.

He felt it in the middle of the night, always the light sleeper he was awake at the slightest of movements. He knew he wasn’t mistaken, he felt your hand twitch for this first time in two months.

He was now wide awake and sitting upright in his seat, watching you closely. That’s when he say it, your hand twitched in his hold, a slight groan escaping your lips, but your eyes had still yet to open.

Caleb had already pressed the call button, the nurses and doctor filling the room in a matter of minutes, that’s when you had finally opened your eyes.

●・○・●・○・●・

A series of tests had been conducted and the doctor had caught you up to speed with everything before you were left alone with Caleb. You avoided looking at him the entire time, it stung, but he couldn’t complain.

You cleared your throat uncomfortably, the dryness getting to you, but before you could even get the water, Caleb had already poured a glass and was holding it out to you.

You silently took it from him and drank it slowly, not wanting to shock your system. It was a struggle, your grip on the glass was weak. It almost slipped out of your hands if not for Caleb holding the bottom of the cup.

Once you were done, Caleb put the glass on the side, reaching out to grab your hands. You pulled them back before he could touch you.

“Why are you here Caleb? Doesn’t MC need you?”

Were you being petty? Yes, the fight that you guys had may have been two months ago for him, but for you it was like it was yesterday. The wounds from his words were still fresh.

You missed the look of hurt that flashed across his face, but it disappeared as quickly as it came.

"You don't get to come in here and think that everything will be fine. I just wanted one week with you, no distractions. All I got in return? You leaving me alone on the morning of my birthday after telling me you should've listened to MC when she told you not to date me?!"

You had tears in your eyes, but you refused to let them escape. You didn't want to let him see just how broken you were about this.

Caleb had nothing to say, how could he? He was the one who put you in this position, he's the reason you ended up in the hospital.

"Please just leave."

Your voice sounded so broken, all he could do was listen to your request even though every cell in his being told him to stay by your side. He chose to just wait outside your room, not wanting to be too far away from you but still wanting to respect your request.

As soon as soon Caleb left the room you let the tears you were holding back fall, your body shook with sobs as everything came crashing down on you.

Even with the morphine you could feel the lingering bits of pain all throughout your body.

You eventually ended up crying yourself to sleep. The silence had Caleb worried, so he had decided to check in on you, seeing that you were asleep he was able to calm himself down a little.

But the sight of your tear stricken face had him clutching his chest in pain, all he wanted to do was take away your pain.

For now, he was just going to try his best to be by your side, no matter how much you pushed him away. He was determined to make things right.

●・○・●・○・●・

A couple of weeks had passed before you were finally released from the hospital.

During that time Caleb was as stubborn as ever, never leaving your side unless it was for classes, he spent the nights next to your bed, watching over you. He was always one step ahead, if you were thinking about food or water, the next second he would have it in front of you.

You didn't want to admit it, you enjoyed having him wait on you hand and foot. But you still weren't ready to forgive him, not yet. You still needed to talk to him about what happened before you could decide where this relationship was headed.

You wanted to give him another chance, seeing how tirelessly he's been taking care of you these past few weeks. You could only assume he was doing the same those two months where you were unconscious.

In the meantime, you decided his punishment would be your silence, not speaking to him unless it was absolutely necessary. Even then you only spoke a few words.

Caleb was currently in class, it was a Friday so that meant he'd home earlier than the other days.

You didn't have much of a choice as to where you'd be staying, Caleb wanted to make sure you were taking all your medication as well as doing the exercises you were assigned for your rehab, he knew how forgetful you could be, and you were in no condition to be staying on your own. So his solution was to have you stay at his place.

Being there brought back bad memories, but you had made up your mind to talk to him about it. If you were going to be staying here you needed to know where you guys stood in each others lives.

You were currently in his room, wanting to take a nap but your mind was too active for you to relax.

It wasn't long before Caleb came home, not seeing you in the living room he immediately made his way towards his room.

The moment he walked in he relaxed, seeing that you were alright. You saw him and thought,

It's now or never.

"We need to talk."

Caleb's heart dropped, his mind went crazy thinking you were about to break up with him. Although he couldn't blame you for wanting to, but he refused to let you go, you were the only good thing he had in his life, he couldn't afford to lose you. Not before he had a chance to make things right.

"Okay."

He said as calmly as possible, not wanting to give away the immense anxiety he was feeling from this situation.

He walked towards you, kneeling on the ground next to you.

"I'm giving you one chance to explain yourself for that night."

That was all he needed to go on tangent about that night, from the call from MC where she was crying to going to her house and finding out she had been lying to him to get him to spend more time with her instead of you to him and MC having a falling out because of the things she said about you.

He laid it all out, he wasn't proud of the fact that he was so easily fooled by her. He had known her far longer than he had known you, and thought she would never lie to him, boy was he wrong.

"I admit that I have absolutely no excuse for letting myself believe her words. I can't forgive myself for the things I said that night and how I just left you there. It was all my fault."

He took your hands in his, you would've pulled them out of his reach but this time you let him hold them. You could see in his actions and in his eyes how much he regretted that night and how he had been trying everyday to make things right.

"I blame myself for your accident, if I had just stayed with you, if i had never said those words you wouldn't have ended up in this condition."

You had never really seen Caleb cry, so seeing him now in tears as his brain recounted the feeling of seeing you on that hospital bed, had your mind coming to a conclusion.

You were going to give him another chance, his one and only chance. If anything like that happens again you won't stick around, you had enough self respect to not tolerate that.

You removed yours hands from his, Caleb had a look of hurt when you did that, but it didn't last long before you cupped his face, wiping away his tears.

"You get one chance only. Mess up and you'll never see or hear from me again, got it?"

He nodded his head like a child before pulling you to the floor and onto his lap.

He hid his face in the crook of your neck as silent sobs raked his body. You ran a soothing hand through his hair to help him calm down.

It hurt to see him like this, but he also deserved it. Even if it was a fraction of the pain you went through.

"I promise I'll make it up to you. Anything you want, I'll do it."

His voice came out muffled, but you could feel the sincerity in it.

"I'll hold you to that."

[ariestrxsh]

pervy!bsf!chris x innocent!bsf!reader

᧔•᧓ content warning: smut, innocence corruption, degradation, panty stealing, pillow riding, vouyerism, masturbation, chris thinks about you while having sex with another girl

᧔•᧓ summary: after chris witnesses a private moment you had with your pillow, he steals the pair of your panties you had on

requested/inspired by this ask ᧔•᧓

dividers by @/bernardsbendystraws

Creeping

chapters: | 1 |

"You should have seen her face," Chris told you, the corners of his lip turning up in a conceited smile. Your very experienced best friend was sitting at the edge of your bed beside you, recounting his most recent sexual encounter to you in great detail. "Eyes rolled back in her head while she took it like a little slut," Chris gazed into your eyes, leaning in and wetting his lips.

His seductive stare made your heartbeat quicken, and your body temperature rose. "While she took what like a little slut?" You innocently asked, crinkling your nose. You had a vague idea, but you were dying to hear him say it. "My cock, silly," Chris chuckled at you, nudging you in the arm.

You were a virgin, and Chris knew this. Despite never having had sex, you were very curious about the subject, and it always piqued your interest, the way Chris talked about sex. "Do girls like that? When you call them a slut?" You wondered aloud. "Depends on the girl. Some can't get enough of it," Chris replied, his voice thick with lust.

"I don't know if I'd like it. I mean, I'm not one," you giggled. "Well, I think you really like when I tell you this kind of stuff, so I don't know. You might be a little bit of a slut," Chris teased you, immediately sending blood rushing to your cheeks and a wetness between your legs. "No, I'm not!" You gently shoved him, trying to conceal your embarrassed smile. He could tell you liked it, but you weren't sure if you were allowed to like it.

"You're right. Only a little slut would wanna hear me talk about how I filled up another girl and watched it all drip out," he snickered, watching the way you blushed at his words. You bit your lip, and a micro-expression of desire slipped into your facial features. You couldn't help the way your body was reacting to him.

Chris grew hard from watching your reactions to his escapades, especially because he knew you'd always had a big crush on him, and he knew how much you liked picturing him in such a compromising position despite the fact that you tried to hide it. "You're imagining it, aren't you?" Chris taunted you, reading your body language and searching your features with his blue eyes.

"I am not!" You huffed in response, denying his claim and crossing your arms over your chest. "If you say so," Chris said, remaining unconvinced. "Well, I'm gonna head out. I'm going to see that girl again," Chris responded, getting up from your bed and pulling you into a long hug.

You felt a range of emotions - incredibly turned on by the images he'd just filled your head with, but you also felt jealous and heartbroken. You couldn't help the way you felt for Chris, and you desperately wanted to be the one that he was doing all of those things to. However, you knew he was a player, and you figured he'd only ever go for the experienced girls anyway.

"Stay out of trouble while I'm gone, hmm?" He joked, ruffling your hair. After he kissed you on the forehead, which awakened a swarm of butterflies in your stomach, he took off down your stairs and out your front door.

He got into his car, turned the key in the ignition, and rolled down his windows, letting the fresh air in. He was right about to turn on some music when he patted both his jeans pockets in search of his phone only to remember he'd left it in your bedroom. He sighed, cutting the engine and making his way back up to your house.

He knocked on the door and waited a few moments, but when you didn't answer, Chris decided to let himself in. It's not like he could call you.

He climbed back up your stairs, his heavy shoes hitting the ground beneath him as he hurried. He wandered down your hallway, heading towards your room. He could see his phone sitting face up on top of your vanity through the crack in the door. "Hey, I -" Chris started to say, but as he nearly entered your bedroom, he abruptly stopped and watched in awe.

There you were on your bed, eyes screwed shut, eyebrows pinned together, and lips parted as you straddled your pillow, rocking your hips back and forth. You were using one hand to stabilize yourself on the bed, and the other was clutching your breast through your shirt. A smug smile crossed Chris' face as he peeped on you from the hallway.

His hand immediately flew up to his hard cock, and he started gently palming it as he fixed his gaze on your expression. No wonder you hadn't heard his knock or his voice before he'd nearly walked in unannounced. You were completely immersed in pleasure, grinding away on your pillow.

You bucked your hips faster, reaching up your blouse and gently rolling your nipple between two of your fingertips, unknowingly flashing him the underside of your breast. The boy you were fantasizing about while doing such a vulnerable thing was still staring at you through the crack in the door, mouth wide open and eyebrows raised.

"Oh, fuck," Chris quietly whispered to himself as the scene unfolded before him, reaching into his jeans and wrapping his fingers around his cock. He started pumping his hand over his length, every once in a while, lightly brushing over his tip that was beginning to gush with precum.

Your breath was picking up, your hips were moving back and forth at a faster pace as you felt the wonderful tension in your lower stomach. "Oh, Chris," he heard you hiss as your whole body trembled. You came unraveled, moans unfurling from your lips as you threw your head back. You were completely lost in the throes of ecstasy, your thrashing hips starting to slow to an unhurried grind.

A satisfied smile crept across your face as you glanced down at the wet spot on your pillow case. Chris immediately stopped jerking off, worried you'd look up and see him through the crack in your door. He tucked his erection back into his pants and hurriedly closed his zipper.

You tugged the pillowcase off and threw it on the floor. You pulled yourself to your feet, your legs still feeling weak and wobbly from your intense orgasm. Chris watched as you faced away from him, pulling down your bottoms and tugging off your shirt, discarding them on the ground next to your soiled pillowcase.

He admired your curves, taking in the sight of your perfectly shaped ass and the way it bounced as you walked into your connected bathroom. You shut the door behind you, a click sounding as it latched shut, and he heard the shower kick on. His eyes were drawn to the mess of clothes in the middle of your bedroom floor.

There laid the band t-shirt you'd just had on, the cut off shorts you were just in, and the pink panties you were just wearing. He creeped into your room, leaned down, and picked your underwear up off the floor. They were pretty and silky, and Chris immediately noticed the soaked spot on the front of them.

A faint smirk graced his features as he stuffed them into his back pocket. He was so enamored with what he'd just seen, he nearly forgot his phone, the whole reason he'd come back in the first place. He slipped back out before you had any idea.

Once you got out of the shower, you gathered the pile of clothes. You were about to throw them in your hamper and take them to do your laundry when you noticed an important item was missing. You started to search around, looking under your bed, under the floor mat in your bathroom, and you even started to question if you'd even worn underwear that day, which would have been strange for you not to notice you'd forgotten to put them on.

You eventually gave up on finding them, certain that they'd turn up at some point, and you walked off with your hamper to go wash the rest of your clothes. Chris found himself in his most recent hook up's bed, bending her over while he took her from behind.

Things had gotten so heated between the two of them so quickly that they hadn't even made it all the way out of their clothes. Chris had lazily pulled his date's thong to the side with his pants still halfway on when he'd stuck his cock into her. The only problem was Chris couldn't get you off his mind.

He was in the middle of delivering a powerful thrust when he remembered he had your panties. Chris was usually against thinking about someone else when he was having sex with a woman, because he considered it rude, and he wanted to be fully present with the person in front of him, but it felt like he had no control over what happened next.

He retrieved the silk fabric from his back pocket, admiring how pretty they were once again. He couldn't stop thinking about the fact that they'd had direct contact with your pussy and how you'd soaked through them while thinking about him. He closed his eyes and pressed the soft material up to his nose, taking a deep inhale, your arousal filling his senses.

He sped up his movements, his date moaning his name and begging him to fill her up again. He couldn't help himself. He kept imagining it was you beneath him, his mind swirling with how your cunt would feel stretching around him for the first time and how his name would sound leaving your lips in your most desperate moment. It was almost too much for him to handle.

"Take it. Take my cock like the little slut you know you are," he whispered, pretending you were the one he was saying it to. "Chris! Don't stop!" The woman beneath him practically screamed as her pussy started rhythmically clenching around his length. With your panties still balled up in his fist, Chris came, pumping his date full of his warm, sticky load with the thought of you humping your pillow and moaning his name still lingering in his mind.

"Oh, fuck," he groaned, driving his dick as far deep in as it could go into her before coming to a stop. "Wow, Chris. That was amazing," she breathlessly said, slumping forward into her pillow as she recovered. A smirk spread across his lips. He loved hearing how good he was from his satisfied partners.

He quickly shoved your panties back into his back pocket, cleared his throat, and pulled out. "Fuck, that never gets old," he whispered, watching his seed overflowing from her hole and spilling out onto the sheets. "You're such a perv, Chris," his date laughed, rolling her eyes, secretly loving that about him. "I'm not as pervy as you are slutty," he shot back, chuckling and pulling up his boxers and his jeans. "Can't argue with that," she said, smiling as she shifted around her bed to face him.

"Hey, are you okay? The sex was great and all, but you just seem preoccupied, like you're mentally checked out or something," she asked, cradling his face while her gaze met his. Chris' eyes quickly veered away from her's, a bit of guilt seeping into his conscience. He liked getting off to you, but he didn't like thinking about you when he was with another girl, and he felt bad that she could feel his displaced energy.

"You know, I'm sorry. My mind is just kinda somewhere else right now," he admitted, shrugging. "Come on. Lay down with me. Let's talk about it," she said, covering herself in her sheet as she curled up into her bed. Chris shook his head. "I'm so sorry. I can't stay the night tonight. I have a lot to think about," Chris replied, grabbing his shirt off the floor and throwing it on. "That's okay. Maybe next time?" She smiled. He leaned in and kissed her. "Goodnight," he said before leaving her house.

Chris stepped out into the darkness. He heard the crickets chirping nearby and the distant sound of cars whooshing passed each other on the overpass. He unlocked his car door and collapsed down into his seat to join the rest of the late night drivers, wondering what had gotten into him and why he still couldn't get you out of his head.

[happy74827]

White Lies

[Spencer Reid x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: You have constantly lied to your mother about your private life, as she was one to disapprove of everything, but those "harmless lies" become a lot more serious when you forget to cancel plans with your closest friend.

WC: 3036

Category: Fluff, Fake Dating, Sassy!Reid {TW: Reader’s mom is Authoritarian}

Another drafted idea that I finally wrote up because Spencer is the definition of pookie, and you cannot change my mind. This is also a dedication to my girl, @yoursacredqueenmother, for matching my crazy delulu fantasies 🫶💖

『••✎••』

Your mom has always been a force of nature—a whirlwind of opinions, expectations, and unsolicited advice that sweeps through your life like a hurricane. She’s the kind of woman who believes she knows what’s best for you, even when you’re pretty sure she doesn’t. Ever since you turned 30 last year, her visits have become more frequent, and her nagging has reached a fever pitch.

"You’re getting old, sweetheart," she’d say, her voice dripping with concern that felt more like judgment. "You need to settle down, find a nice man, start a family. I’m not going to be around forever, you know."

The words were always delivered with a smile, but they stung like a slap. You love her, you really do, but her constant pressure makes you feel like you’re failing at some unspoken test of womanhood.

So, to get her off your back, you’d started lying. Little white lies at first—"I’m seeing someone, Mom, it’s just early stages"—but they quickly snowballed into more and more elaborate fibs. Soon, you were telling her that you were dating a doctor who wanted nothing more than to start a family with you but was waiting for the right time.

It was easier to make up a fictitious doctor than to explain the real reason you were still single.

Because the truth is that the man of your dreams is already in your life, he's been here for years, and he's always been the perfect friend. The problem is that he's a little hard to read. You have no idea how he feels about you or if he sees you as more than a friend.

You'd tried to tell him how you felt about him before, but the words had stuck in your throat. He’d seemed so confused, so shocked by the mere suggestion of romance. Maybe he just didn't see you that way. Maybe you’d ruin your friendship by even mentioning the idea.

This led to where you are now: alone, frustrated, and trying to figure out how to keep your mother from butting into your personal life. You’d thought maybe she’d drop the issue after your birthday, but she’d come by to "surprise you" last night and is now currently sitting at the kitchen table, looking around your apartment with an expression of vague disappointment.

"Honey, you’re an adult now," she says, not looking up from her coffee cup. "You can’t keep living like this."

She gestures at the living room, which is scattered with discarded letters and half-read books. The mess is a symptom of the chaos in your head as you’ve been too preoccupied with thoughts of him to worry about cleaning up after yourself.

"It’s not that bad," you mumble, though you know it is. Even he’d commented on the state of your apartment when he’d last stopped by, and his place is usually worse than yours. Messy, not dirty. He’s a bit of an organized hoarder.

"Well, maybe not for a single girl," she sighs. "But what if Doctor Whoever comes over? Don’t you want to impress him?"

You bite your lip, trying to keep your temper in check. This is the problem with your mother—she has a habit of steamrolling over your feelings, and you've never been able to stand up to her. You’d thought you were done having this argument when you turned 30. Apparently, you’d thought wrong.

"Mom," you begin, your voice firm. "I told you, he doesn't care about stuff like that. He's more concerned with things like—"

The doorbell rings, interrupting you mid-sentence. Thank God. You’re not sure what you would have said, but any excuse is better than none. You figured it was the mailman, late with that package you’d been expecting, but when you just so happen to glance at the calendar (the one your father bought you last Christmas, with pictures of cats wearing hats), your stomach drops.

March 21st, which may not seem important, and it really isn’t, unless you look closer and realize that the cat in the picture is wearing a lab coat and is holding a beaker. Because that, my friends, is not just a picture. It is a reminder.

The one thing you had not wanted to forget.

The one thing, apparently, you had forgotten.

You’d been so busy trying to avoid your mother’s questions about your non-existent boyfriend that you’d completely lost track of time. The calendar sits there, taunting you, and all you can think is:

Oh, no.

Because the person who had rang the doorbell? It was him. He and his adorable grin, hazel-like eyes, and messy brown hair. He probably even brought a bag of those terribly expensive chocolates you love.

You want to cry. Of course, it had to be that day, the day of all days, the day you'd been secretly anticipating for all month.

Chess day. It was a monthly ritual you'd started with him when he'd discovered that you, too, were a fan of the game. You were absolutely terrible at it, and he won every time, but honestly, you didn't care. Chess day was just an excuse for you to spend time with him.

Except today, you have company, and it’s not exactly the kind you want him to meet.

You were supposed to call him, but in your haste to please your mom, you completely forgot.

Your mother’s gaze shifts to the door, and her eyebrows rise as if she can sense his presence on the other side. "Well, aren’t you going to answer that?"

No.

That's what you wanted to say. Instead, you hear yourself saying:

"Yeah, just a sec."

And, like a complete idiot, you open the door.

You open the door, and he’s there, all bright-eyed, smiling, holding a box of chocolates and his perfectly polished travel chess set. You feel like the biggest jerk in the world.

"Uh, hey!" he chirps, his voice making your stomach flip. He doesn’t seem to notice the tension in the air or the fact that your mother is standing right behind you, peering curiously over your shoulder. "I know I’m a little early, but I needed to pick up some things and..."

He trails off as his gaze settles on your mother. She’s eyeing him like a hawk and doing what she does when meeting a new person: leaning forward slightly, squinting her eyes, and tilting her head. You can see the wheels turning in her mind.

"Is this him?" she asks, her eyes wide with excitement.

Before you can stop her, she grabs your wrist and pulls you aside. You stumble into the kitchen, and she takes your place, smiling warmly at him.

"So, you’re the doctor," she says, her voice full of approval. "My daughter has told me so much about you!"

Oh, this is bad. So, so bad.

"Uh," he begins, clearly caught off-guard. His eyes dart to yours, and you were expecting his classic confused puppy look, but this time, it’s different. He looks... honored? No, that can't be right.

"She… talked about me?" he stammers, looking back at your mother.

She nods. "All the time! In fact, I was starting to think she’d made you up. It’s good to know my daughter has such a handsome young man in her life."

You want to die. Right there, on the spot. But, somehow, you manage to force a smile, even as your heart pounds with anxiety.

And your mother? She beams.

"It’s lovely to meet you finally," she gushes. She reaches out and shakes his hand, and he stares at her with a dazed expression. "My daughter has always been a bit shy, and she tends to keep things close to the vest if you know what I mean."

"Mom, please," you cut in, mortified. "Stop."

He still hasn't said a word, and the silence is killing you.

"Well, come on in, then," your mother continues, ignoring your protests. "I insist. After all, I can't wait to learn more about my future son-in-law!"

And this is when the situation goes from bad to worse.

This is when he freezes, and the box of chocolates threatens to slip from his fingers. You watched as he struggled to form a coherent sentence.

"I... Uh, that's not... we’re not..."

"Yes! Yes, we are!" you shout, desperate to cover up his stammering. He looks at you, his expression shifting from confused to shocked, and it’s like a punch in the gut. "That’s right, Mom. This is him. My boyfriend. Doctor Whoever."

"Oh, sweetie, this is so wonderful!" Your mother is so busy clapping her hands with delight that she doesn't notice his reaction.

"Doctor… Whoever?" He looks offended and a bit hurt. "What’s that supposed to mean—?"

"Shush!" You hiss, silently pleading with him to keep quiet. He must have caught your desperation because he shuts his mouth.

It allowed you a moment to process everything. Your mother is smiling widely, her face filled with delight. She doesn't even seem bothered by the fact that he’s currently dressed like a college professor with an evident love for scarves.

Meanwhile, he’s standing there, blinking stupidly, looking as if his entire world has been flipped upside-down. He seems torn between anger and elation, and honestly, it’s confusing as hell. You want to grab him and apologize and explain that this was all a mistake, but you can’t. Not with your mother right there.

So, you knew what you had to do.

"Mom! Say, would you mind doing me a huge favor and just give us like a few minutes? We have some important totally-not-boyfriend stuff to discuss."

"Sure, honey." She grins. "I'll do some unpacking. How about that?"

"Perfect!"

She practically skips into the other room, leaving the two of you alone. There’s a long, uncomfortable silence, broken only by the sound of the bedroom door clicking shut.

The sigh you let out is one of relief, tinged with the faintest hint of dread.

Though, he was the first to break the silence with words.

"I didn’t realize we were dating," he says, his voice low. He's not quite glaring at you, but it's a close thing. "Last time I checked, statistically, dating requires at least two people. Which leads me to the logical conclusion that you are, in fact, a liar. Unless this is some strange, newfangled term for friendship, in which case, I think it would be more appropriate for me to refer to you as the "teller of lies" rather than a—"

"I know, I'm sorry." You blurt out, your cheeks flushing with shame. "I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. She was asking all these questions, and I couldn't tell her the truth, and then she just kept talking, and I couldn't get a word in edgewise, and... I panicked. Okay? That’s all."

"What do you mean, couldn’t tell her the truth?" He narrows his eyes. "Is something wrong? Did you get yourself into trouble?"

"No! No, nothing like that."

"Then, what is it that you can't tell her?"

He steps closer, and the concern in his eyes makes you feel even guiltier.

"Look, don't worry about it, alright? It’s not important." You turn away, refusing to meet his gaze.

"If it isn’t important, then why are you so embarrassed?"

"I’m not embarrassed."

"Your cheeks are flushed," he points out. "And you tend to rub your thumb against your forefinger when you’re feeling nervous or stressed. Which, coincidentally, is also something you do when you’re lying."

Damn it. You should’ve known better than to lie to a profiler.

"You don’t know what it’s like to be interrogated by my mother," you snap, harsher than intended. You soften your voice before continuing. "It’s like she’s constantly see-sawing between disapproval and pity. She means well, but when she’s around, I feel like I'm being crushed under the weight of her expectations."

He opens his mouth, but you cut him off.

"And I know, I know, that’s not an excuse for lying. I just... I’m sorry, okay? It was wrong and selfish and... I didn’t mean to drag you into it."

You brace yourself for the inevitable rejection, the anger, the disappointment. Instead, you hear him let out a sigh, followed by the familiar look of resolve that comes over him when he's faced with a challenging puzzle.

"You know, when we first met, you used to lie all the time." He glances at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "You would say things like, 'I don't watch rom-coms,' and, 'I have a real job,' and, most infamously, 'there's no such thing as aliens.'"

"Hold on a minute—"

He ignored your protests, his smile growing wider.

"You’re not that bad of a liar. Actually, you’re pretty decent, considering your lack of social skills. So the fact that you’ve managed to fool your mother is pretty impressive."

"Hey—"

"And, honestly, it’s a little flattering."

"I— Wait… what?" You gape at him, trying to figure out what's going on. "Flattering?"

He shrugs, but you can tell he's trying not to blush.

"Liars tend to use people they know well or trust implicitly when they need a cover story because they have more information about them and are therefore more believable. So, by lying about your fake boyfriend, that being me, it suggests that you trust me enough to make a convincing cover story, and the fact that you are embarrassed about the deception implies a certain amount of fondness."

"You can't know all that from a simple lie."

"Can’t I?"

There's something in his tone, the slightest hint of a tease, that makes your heart flutter. He's always been like this, so damn perceptive. You never knew what to make of it.

"It’s actually a well-established behavioral theory," he continues. "Deceivers typically show affection toward the person they are attempting to deceive. In fact, a study in the 1970s—"

"Spencer, please." You hold up a hand. "I get it."

"I'm not so sure that you do."

There's an intensity in his gaze that makes your stomach do backflips.

"Because," he murmurs, moving a little closer, "if you did, I wouldn’t have had to spend the past three years of my life wondering why my best friend keeps avoiding my gaze."

"You noticed that?" You squeak, suddenly finding the floor very interesting.

"I notice everything."

He takes a step toward you, and it’s so quick, so unexpected, that you can't help but glance up. He's actually extremely close, his face mere inches from yours, and you find yourself frozen, unable to speak, unable to think, as his eyes lock with yours.

"I notice that the color of your eyes changes depending on the lighting." He pauses, and his voice grows softer. "And I notice that your pupils dilate when I'm near. I notice the way you breathe, the way you laugh, the way you chew your bottom lip when you’re deep in thought. And I can’t help but notice that the closer I get, the faster your heart rate becomes. That could be a number of things, of course, and not just an indication of arousal, but considering the context, the likelihood that it’s due to anything other than sexual excitement is simply—"

"Spence," you breathe, your pulse pounding in your ears. You’re not sure what to do, so you blurt out the first thing that pops into your mind. "Do you want to be my fake boyfriend?"

There’s a moment of silence, followed by a quiet snort.

"I thought I already was."

You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, but the tension between you has lessened. Now, he’s simply staring at you with a smug smile, and it's like a dam has burst. The words tumble out of your mouth, spilling out like water from a leaky faucet.

"Well, then, you should know that my boyfriend is absolutely infuriating and has a tendency to ramble about obscure facts at inappropriate moments. And he’s really, really bad at taking a hint."

His smile widens, and his voice takes on a teasing tone.

"Oh, he is, is he? Tell me, is he good at chess?"

"No, he’s terrible at it."

"Then, he sounds like a total loser."

"Yeah," you admit, biting back a smile. "He’s the biggest loser I know."

"In that case, you should know that my girlfriend is incredibly frustrating and a compulsive liar who uses her boyfriend for cover stories. She also tends to cheat her way to victory despite still losing most of the time."

"I do not cheat!" You protest, playfully punching him on the shoulder.

"No, you just make up rules on the spot in order to justify why you lose so badly."

"You’re one to talk. You’re the one who’s been letting me win all this time."

"Perhaps," he grins. "Or maybe I’ve been letting you believe that."

You narrow your eyes.

"Are you admitting to me what I think you're admitting?"

"What is it that you think I’m admitting to?"

"I think you’re admitting to me that you’ve been throwing our chess games all this time."

"That sounds like the ramblings of someone who cheats and is trying to project their own faults onto others."

"Oh, you know what—"

And that's when the bedroom door swings open, and your mother's voice cuts through the air like a knife.

"Ahem."

She's standing there, smiling, and holding a box filled with old pictures and baby toys. Your father had sent it to you last year, hoping that you’d have children soon and use it, but you’d put it in storage, intending to deal with it later. Apparently, your mother had decided now was the perfect time.

The both of you share a look, and it's clear that he’s thinking the same thing as you.

"Not interrupting, am I?" She asks, glancing from him to you and then back again. Her smile was practically glowing, and she had a strange look in her eyes as if she were a cat watching a bird. "I was just looking for a place to put these old things and thought maybe my daughter's boyfriend might be interested in seeing them."

The shared look between the two of you solidified what was going through both of your minds. This was indeed going to be a long, long afternoon.

[hgfictionwriter]

Revelations - Part Ten

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: An unexpected person reaches out to you and the pieces of your broken life continue to finally fall back into place.

Warnings: None.

A/N: The rest of the series is here.

"Hi Y/N. This is Sara. It's been a while and I hope you're doing well. I hope you don't mind me reaching out, but I'm doing so because Zoie would like to formally invite you to her birthday party this Sunday."

"Full disclosure. She's asked Jessie for weeks, but as I understand, Jessie's being very respectful of your wishes and doesn't want to push. That said, a soon-to-be 6-year-old doesn't really get it and doesn't care about things like that and is fairly relentless lol."

"She says she has so much fun with you and Jessie, and she doesn't know why the three of you can't keep doing that. And for the record, she loves her dinosaur shirt and gives me hell anytime I try to take it away to wash it. And when I asked her what she wanted for her birthday, one thing she said is she wanted you there - for all those other reasons - but also because Jessie was happiest when you were there. So, will you come?"

"If it doesn't feel right to you, that's okay. I get it. This entire thing has been a lot and I'm beyond sure none of it is what you pictured or wanted. I really didn't mean to crash your life. I really, really thought long and hard about bringing Jessie into Zoie's life. I ultimately felt I owed it to Zoie to. And I was terrified when I learned Jessie was engaged. I knew how this would potentially blow things up and I really didn't want that. I'm truly sorry it turned out the way it did."

"Anyway, you didn't ask for my story. My point was - not that you've asked - the way Jessie loves you is next level. She doesn't have to tell me a thing. It's apparent. It's special. I can tell any time she's talked with you. She's so much happier. It shows. And it's none of my business, but, if I were you, I'd maybe want to know."

"Okay. Now I'm done lol. If you don't reply, I'll leave you alone. No hard feelings."

You stared at the messages you came back to after your meeting. The last person's name you expected to show up on your phone was Sara's. She obviously thought you'd deleted her - you hadn't.

You and her had talked very minimally one on one, and always in a - more or less - forced capacity. And certainly never about topics like this. Again, you'd never hated her as a person. She seemed, well, perfectly fine. She just represented the force that brought your world as you knew it crumbling down.

But now here she was offering you a lifeline.

You needed a breath.

You backed out of your conversation with Sara and over to your one with Jessie. She was still in Canada with Zoie and you'd been texting intermittently since your impromptu reunion.

The texts had been light, both of you purposefully evading critical questions and topics knowing you were going to talk more when she got back. That said, the messages between you were more easy than before. And even if they weren't explicitly affectionate, there were undertones.

You smiled at the last messages from her. A picture of Zoie all done up in her snowsuit and playing in Jessie's parents' backyard along with a message of, "Someone loves the snow."

A dull ache formed in your chest, but it wasn't the same as before. Before, the ache had torn at you, gnawing, painful and malignant. But this new ache was different. It was longing and sweet. Something to chase; something to not be scared of.

You went back to Sara's messages.

“What does Zoie want for her birthday?”

-----------

While you'd felt eerily calm leading up to the weekend, as you parked your car down the street from Sara's place your nerves started to make themselves known again.

You stared steadily at the house, spotting Jessie's car parked out front.

Jessie didn't actually know you'd be here today. You don't know why you chose not to tell her. You even asked Sara not to mention anything. Who knows, maybe Sara thought you wanted to keep it down low in case you bailed. No expectations and no hurt feelings for anyone, then.

Maybe you were woefully misreading things, but you almost felt like it could be a good surprise.

You took a deep breath and picked up the gift you'd wrapped for Zoie and got out of your car and walked towards the front door. Your heart raced, hoping, for whatever reason, Jessie wouldn't see you before Sara did. You needed to get some things off your chest.

Sara told you prior to just open the door and come inside. So you did. Quietly. Tentatively.

Your eyes darted around the room.

There was a handful of kids running around - Zoie was still pretty new at her school, but had clearly managed to forge some friendships there, at dance, at swimming.

No surprise. She was just as likable as Jessie.

Then, there were a few adults mingling about. Mostly parents, you assumed, watching over things, playing with the kids, or chatting idly amongst themselves.

That former sense of 'otherness' threatened to rise up within you again, but you dismantled it this time. You weren't going to feel that way again. You were invited. You were asked to be here. You were wanted.

Then you saw a glimpse of them. Jessie was in the other room where the kids were running in and out of. Zoie was hanging off of Jessie's back, a kid latched onto each of her legs as she playfully lumbered around, the kids all laughing and yelling as they hung off of her.

You turned as Sara was coming out of the kitchen and you almost collided.

"Oh my god," she said with a laugh. Her eyes lit up as she took you in. "You came! I'm so glad."

As you saw this woman for the first time in months - this woman who was the source of so much angst and upheaval in your life - you felt a flash of anxiety. Like some emotional PTSD.

But it faded as she smiled at you. She was just a girl whose own life had been turned upside down many years ago. Her own future permanently changed; visions and dreams as she’d planned them no longer the same.

She’d gone it alone. Turned her circumstances into something to be cherished. And, in time, and justly so, decided to do right by her daughter. And Jessie.

She wasn’t a monster. She didn’t come into your life with malintent. You’d been caught in the shockwaves and fallout, but it wasn’t her fault or her intention.

She certainly didn’t need to try to save your relationship with Jessie. To keep you in Zoie’s life. In fact, it would’ve been much easier on her to have Jessie and Zoie to herself.

But she reached out to you anyway.

You felt your cheeks heating up. "Yeah. Thanks again for inviting me."

She shook her head. "Of course. You were very much wanted at this party. Someone had to tell you," she said with a smirk.

"Here. This is for Zoie," you said as you extended the gift. Sara gently pushed it back to you.

"Why don't you give it to her," she smiled, before adding with a smirk, "But she can't open it until after cake. Don't let her tell you otherwise."

You chuckled. “Sure. I’ll watch out for that.”

A beat passed and your pulse picked up again. You'd gone over in your head countless times what you wanted to say, and if you were going to say it, now would be the time.

"Um, this day is about Zoie, so I'm not going to take your focus away for long, but I want to just say something really quick," you said. Sara listened attentively.

“I wanted to say thank you for what you said the other day. I think I needed to hear it from someone other than Jessie. And, honestly,” you bit back a weak laugh, “you’re the most impartial, in a way. If it was Janine. Sinc. Elysse. Whoever, I feel like it wouldn’t have been the same. So, thank you, it means a lot.”

“I’m glad you weren’t upset that I reached out,” Sara admitted. “I mean, yes, Zoie absolutely kept badgering me and Jessie to invite you," she chuckled, "but beyond that, yeah."

She took a breath.

"I know it’s not my business. I mean, yes, Jessie’s life impacts Zoie’s, but Jessie’s obviously free to make her own choices and decisions. And honestly, I have no clue what ultimately went down between you two. None of my business either! I'm really just piecing things together from glimpses I've gotten during drop-off and pick-up, and things Zoie mentions.” She shrugged vaguely. “Jessie plays things very close to the vest, but - even if she never says anything - it’s obvious where she’s at and how she feels about you even now. And I wasn’t kidding - Zoie’s enchanted by you. Must run in the genes,” she said with a sly smirk before growing serious again. “So, this seemed like the right opportunity to say something.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as you processed her words. You weren't expecting her to say more than she did the other day.

But again, here you were. Jessie wasn't exactly confiding in Sara. She hadn't fallen into Sara's arms in your absence. It was even obvious to Sara, her ex, the mother of her child, that Jessie was still in love with you.

Your mind sharpened once more and you remembered what you planned to say. You cleared your throat.

"Thank you. I, um, I know things have been complicated. I don’t know how much has fallen back on you, or Zoie, during all of this. I hope not much at all. And I'm sorry for anything that did. I know things couldn’t have been easy for you either. A lot of big decisions along the way, uprooting your life and Zoie’s, rebuilding, introducing new family and friends into her life and yours. That’s a lot of change for anyone. You didn't know what you were going to find. That took a huge amount of courage. And I know you did it for Zoie and I respect that.” You took a quick breath. “But it really means a lot that you shared what you did. I know you didn't need to. So, thank you for this."

Your eyes drifted away before returning to her.

"I don’t exactly know what the future holds. But, I know that if I’m a part of Jessie’s life, I’m a part of Zoie’s. And I want you to know I don’t take that for granted. You've raised a really, really special girl. Zoie's wonderful. And even if I’ve been in and out of the picture, I really do care about her. A lot. I mean, she's great - full stop. But she's also a part of Jessie, which means...," you trailed off, not quite ready to declare to her that by proxy alone you'd of course love Zoie.

You took a quick breath.

"Anyway, I'm sure this is no surprise to you, but Zoie's made Jessie's life infinitely better. So, please don’t ever feel bad for bringing Jessie into her life. That little girl deserves to have her mama in her life, and Jessie deserves her just the same.”

Sara smiled appreciatively, taking a moment of her own. “Thank you. That really means a lot.”

Her gaze shifted over to the other room where Zoie was.

"And yeah, Zoie's pretty's amazing," she said as she faced you again. "I'm grateful for her. She was - certainly - a surprise. But an incredible one and I can't imagine my life without her now. And she just adores Jessie. If Zoie's made Jessie's life infinitely better, well Jessie has 1000% done the same for Zoie. I'm grateful to have her presence in Zoie's life."

Her tone was earnest already, but it grew more-so and she held your gaze pointedly. "There's lots of room for you in that life too, if you want it."

You were about to respond when you heard your name yelled from across the house.

"That's your cue," Sara said under her breath with a laugh.

You turned to see Zoie haphazardly climbing down off of Jessie and running towards you. Your attention was split between Zoie sprinting your direction and Jessie standing there shell-shocked, two other kids still hanging off of her.

"Happy birthday!" You greeted with a bright smile as your mind righted itself. You extended the gift to Zoie, but she bypassed it, running straight into your legs in a tight hug, sending you back a step with the force behind it. You laughed, reaching an arm down to embrace her.

"Zoie, my God," Sara laughed. "Take it easy, sweetie."

"You came!" Zoie exclaimed as she pulled back to look up at you.

"I couldn't miss your birthday," you told her as your hand came to her head affectionately. You knelt down in front of her and gave her a more fulsome hug.

"Mama, you invited her," Zoie smiled as she turned partially in your arms to look at Jessie with a laugh.

You looked up to see Jessie, now disentangled, tentatively approaching. Her mind obviously still processing everything. She looked between you and Sara perplexed, but a smile of awe and surprise crossed her face.

"I, um," Jessie stammered and Sara cut in.

"Honey, let's let mama and Y/N catch up. You'll get some more time with Y/N later, okay?" She said.

Zoie pulled back a touch, her arms still around you and pouted slightly. You held out the gift to her again.

"Here, this is for you. Why don't you go put it with the others," you said. The gift seemed the perfect distraction and she grabbed it and ran to Sara's side.

"What do you say?" Sara prompted her, disbelieving and mouthing you an apology.

"Thank you!" Zoie said with a toothy grin before running off once more.

Jessie was just closing the space when you rose to your feet, now face to face with her. Her eyes searched you in wonder, that smile still tugging at her mouth.

"W-what are you doing here?" She asked, eyes curious and hopeful.

"Sara invited me," you answered. Jessie's expression changed immediately and her head snapped around to look in the direction the woman had departed. She looked back to you right away with a frown.

"It's all good," you said as you nervously tucked your hair behind your ear. "She, um, she told me that Zoie wanted to invite me. She said you wouldn't - but I know why."

Jessie opened her mouth to defend herself and you held up a hand, gently coaxing her to stop.

"You're not mad that I showed up, are you?" You asked, though a faint smile pulled at your lips. Jessie did a double-take, adamantly shaking her head.

"No. Oh my God. No, of course not," she readily assured you. She frowned before giving an airy laugh. She took a moment to find her words, her cheeks growing red. "I'm...I'm very happy that you showed up."

"I wondered if you might be. Hence why I didn't say anything when you were away," you said, a playful smile now finally crossing your face.

She smiled wider with another shake of her head. "Yeah. Wait, when did this all happen?"

"This week. You were already at your parents' with Zoie," you relayed. She nodded slowly, an adorable frown on her face as she put the pieces together.

"And, thanks for texting me while you were away," you added. "It was nice to get updates. Felt like I was almost there sometimes," you finished more shyly than you'd intended. She gave you a grateful smile.

"Of course. You were-" she stopped for a second, centering herself and giving a nod as she offered you a quiet smile. "You were missed."

You nodded, much the same as her and wearing a quiet smile of your own.

You felt light.

"Okay. Well, this is Zoie's day, so I don't want to get too deep into things. But," you said slowly, your gaze drifting away momentarily before you smiled at Jessie once more, "if you'd like to take me up on that offer to talk, you could ask me out for coffee sometime." You held her gaze and added in emphasis. "Not as friends."

Jessie stood before you and you could see quiet shock come over her. Her eyes didn't leave yours, but you could see them dart across your face, looking for any signal of a misunderstanding.

Her eyes started to well and she let out a breath that sounded more like a stifled sob.

"Are you serious?" She asked, her eyes shimmering further as her eyebrows furrowed together, her emotions plain.

You smiled softly back at her and simply nodded.

"I mean, I could ask you out if you like," you said before you rest a hand on your hip and tapped your lips facetiously. "Hmm, you seem like someone who would like...[whatever we think Jessie's coffee of choice is]."

Jessie let out a watery laugh as she stepped forward and pulled you into her arms, hugging you tightly to her. You reciprocated immediately as you laughed gently in her ear.

"Oh my god," she said, her voice thick with emotion as she rocked you in place.

She sniffled and wiped at her eyes as she stepped back. Her face was bright red as she looked at you and your heart felt like it could burst.

"W-will you go out for coffee with me?" She asked, a slight stutter in her voice as she rode out her emotions. She laughed, wiping at another stray tear. "On a date."

You nodded readily, echoing her soft laugh.

"I'd love to."

"Mama?"

You both glanced down to see Zoie coming up, tugging lightly on Jessie's pant leg and looking up at her very concerned.

"What's wrong?" Zoie asked, looking so worried.

Jessie nearly started crying again. She gave a tearful laugh and bent down to scoop Zoie up into her arms, hugging her tightly.

"Nothing's wrong, sweetie. I promise," she said as she kissed Zoie's cheek. "I'm not sad. I'm great. I'm really happy. These are happy tears," she said with a sniffle as she held her close.

Zoie seemed to contemplate Jessie's explanation. She watched her carefully, though still a bit confused.

"Well, what are you happy about?" Zoie inquired. Jessie's gaze flit over to you before returning back to her daughter's.

"Y/N and I were just having a good conversation. And it made me very happy," she said. "Sometimes people cry when they're happy."

Zoie was still skeptical.

"Well, what were you talking about?"

Jessie shot you a look and you stepped in.

“Your mama’s right, Zoie. Tears aren’t always sad,” you reinforced. “In this case? Just boring adult talk.”

“What adult talk?” Zoie asked innocently. With this amount of determined curiosity, she was certainly Jessie’s child.

"Coffee," you said flatly for effect. "Kind of boring? Right?" Zoie made a face and you smiled at her before distracting. "Hey, how has dance been?"

Zoie's eyes lit up and she wriggled in Jessie's arms to be let down. Jessie set her down with a laugh and Zoie grabbed you by the hand to pull you into a more open area.

"I want to teach you my routine," she said excitedly. "I tried to teach Mama, but she’s not very good at it," she relayed very matter of fact and you stifled a laugh.

Zoie began showing you her routine and you played along, following her disjointed, but enthusiastic motions.

When you weren't paying attention to Zoie's choreography, your eyes were drawn to Jessie who now leaned back against the wall watching you both with a weepy smile, wiping at her tears with the sleeve of her hoodie now and then.

As Zoie showed you the steps, her hair wispy and wild in a messy pony tail, her cheeks rosy, smiling up at you and looking so much like Jessie’s baby photos - you recalled what Jessie told you so many months ago.

“How can I look at her and feel like my life is ruined?”

That argument seemed like another life now. The sorrow and insidious pain that coursed through you every moment during that period was a mere memory now.

As you smiled down at Zoie and over at Jessie who watched you both adoringly, you understood what Jessie meant. You felt it.

When you finished, Zoie ran off to rejoin her friends and Jessie approached you, still sniffling. She exhaled in self-effacing exaggeration.

"I'm a mess," she said.

"You're lovely," you countered without missing a beat.

Jessie shook her head slowly, looking at you with love like all the years before, but part of it felt new - deeper - as well.

"I love you so damn much," she said. She cracked a smirk a moment later. "That's totally appropriate to say before a first date, right?"

You laughed and you drew her into a kiss, soft and slow.

"Completely."

A/N: Not quite done yet. One more chapter.

Tag requests: @ryuushou @marvelwomen-simp @valuyhh

[ellealyssum]

keep my heart warm ✦ zayne x reader ✦ fluff ✦ 700 words

"Nightmare?" He nods, not meeting your gaze. "I didn't want to wake you, so I came out here."

nightmares, insomnia, comfort, zayne needs a hug, zayne secretly likes being called baby, gn!reader

I'm always writing about Zayne comforting you but then I remembered he suffers from nightmares and insomnia and he needs comforting, too. I love him.

also on ao3

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

 Waking up cold has to be one of the most annoying feelings in the world. You toss and turn beneath the plush comforter, curling into yourself in a futile attempt to conserve your body heat. The thought of getting up for an extra blanket briefly occurs to you, but you really don't have the energy for that right now. You squint at the alarm clock, the dim red digits reading 02:07. Zayne had said he'd be in bed by midnight. You sigh, bracing yourself for the cold of the outside world and quickly jump out of bed, stuffing your feet into your slippers and wrapping a throw around your shoulders. You didn't want to have to get up, but there was no way you'd be getting to sleep if you had a missing doctor to worry about.

 You're surprised to find him in the kitchen and not his office. He's already in his pyjamas, sat at the kitchen island with a mug of tea, flipping aimlessly through a book. Probably some kind of medical text.

 "Zayne?" His eyes meet yours and you see a flicker of shame in them at being caught.

 "Something wrong?" His voice is slightly hoarse. He sounds tired.

 "Yes." You put on your cutest pout. He may be one of the smartest men in the world, but you knew how to play him like a fiddle when you really needed to. You only leave him hanging for a second, feeling bad at the slight panic you see take hold of him. "I'm missing a certain snowman. The bed is far too cold without him."

 His shaky sigh of relief doesn't escape your notice. "You'd think having a snowman in your bed would only exacerbate the problem." He teases you with ease, because that's what he always does, but you can sense there's something else lurking under the surface.

 "Some may think so." You walk over to him and lean your head against his shoulder. "But this snowman is very special."

 "How so?"

 "He's the only snowman in the whole world that can be warm and cold at the same time." His Adam's apple bobs as he swallows thickly.

 "I'm sorry, love. Why don't you take a heat pack with you and go back to bed? You're tired. I'll be there in a bit."

 "That's what you said three hours ago." You clasp his hand in yours. It's cold, but not uncomfortable. "I won't be able to sleep until you're beside me."

 He pushes his mug away from him with a resigned sigh. It takes him a minute to speak, and you hold his hand patiently.

 "I... lost control. Again." You stroke the back of his hand with your thumb. No wonder his hands were cold.

 "Nightmare?" He nods, not meeting your gaze.

 "I didn't want to wake you, so I came out here."

 You let go of his hand and bring your palm to his cheek. You just want him to look at you.

 "I want you to wake me, Zayne." His eyes are tired, but they finally meet yours.

 "You need your rest," he insists. You sigh. Your big, impossible snowman. Always taking care of everyone but himself.

 "So do you." He's about to argue but you don't give him the chance. "You deserve a restful night's sleep, baby." He softens at your use of the pet name you know he secretly loves. You can feel the walls coming down. "Besides, I can't sleep properly without you, anyway. You can wake me up whenever you need if it means you don't leave me all on my lonesome."

 "I just don't want you to get hurt because of me." Just that one little sentence almost rips your heart from your chest.

 "I know, darling. I know it scares you." You run your hands through his hair, trying to soothe him. "But I trust you, more than anyone else in the whole world. And I can't bear to see you in pain. Please, let me help. I want to help you."

 He reaches for your waist, pulling you between his legs and into his embrace. You stroke his back. He doesn't cry, he very rarely ever does. He just takes deep breaths into your shoulder.

 "Okay." His voice is barely a whisper. "I'll try." You can't help but hold him a bit tighter.

 "That's all I could ever ask."

[verdancy-hime]

It's trying to kill her.

She's trying to kill herself instead.

Her alarm clock says "It's not a fashion statement, it's a deathwish."

The first time you met her, she was yelling at the cars in the road to get her to hit her to buy her a computer. Or was it that she was wearing all different colors of lipgloss around her neck and coming out of a tunnel full of bats and thinking "I am suddenly certain that the best years of my life are all behind me. I am going to kill myself one day." And you thought "that's a weird thing for a second grader to be thinking. Girls usually aren't that depressed until they have tits."

One of them keeps talking about how she moved on and she's healthy now.

The other has been saying over and over that she tries not to think about it because she knows they'll lock her up one day. She knows they made her wrong on purpose. She knows they have been trying to fix her but she won't fix. There's always some battle of wits and will and they all accuse her of being greedy but she always wins and always wonders why they didn't try bribery when bribery always works. She is lying on a floor at a party among a group of beautiful girls and you don't know why you are listening to her say this instead of them. This keeps happening. You will find her next to a girl with a perfect face for this moment, the girl will lick your shoulder blade. You wind up having a conversation about some book you never read and how you would like it based on this movie you mentioned. The other girl crawls into your lap. She walks over to your friend and starts asking him questions. You buy the book the next day. It sits on the shelf for three years after the girl with the face and the lips and the... other assets is gone. There are other girls in the meantime. You don't read it but you don't throw it away. One night you are in a new place and nothing is unpacked and you can't sleep and you can't even look at any more liquor after the last three weeks and here is this book. And on the first page when you open it up, you are reintroduced to yourself that year back then. And you know which girl is the girl who is telling the truth about who she is because she dies in the book. Unmistakably, she dies. And it's not even the end of the story. It's not the point of it. It's like here you are on the night you met and she dies and here you are going through all these miseries that hadn't happened yet when the book was written. And here you are on the next page of your own life.

You know it was her because she wants to. She talks about wanting everything, how to do anything. How to get away with it. How to make ugly things beautiful and evil things good and stupid things smart. but the one thing that never changes is that she stares into a cup or a light for too long, she writes a story, she tells you about things she's done-

You go to admire her for her bravery or what she's done. She can lie and say what she's supposed to say- yes, I know , I'm great. Or she says "people think I'm brave but really I just already have to live with the things they're afraid of. I'm not afraid of losing the things they have because I don't have them. And If I get stuck, I always think 'I'll just kill myself if this doesn't work."

You know it's her because she keeps getting into cars with boys because she thinks maybe one will murder her. And when she realizes they want to take her home and keep her, she stops doing that and starts asking them why they don't love their empty houses. And when she gets urged to make a wish, everyone offers her things she wants but the only wish she will take is "I wish I was dead." And the only way to talk her out of it is to say someone else will also die. And one day, you turn on your TV and it has a girl and it's not her face and it's not her name and it's not her voice speaking in her register and she dies and says everyone else will live if she does it. And one day you, even you, turn on the car radio and here's a song about her sung by someone who looks like her and sounds like her and you don't remember the story about how she read a book about a vampire hunter with a harem and said she didn't like it because the girl always is smug and mean about other women's makeup but a girl named after a legend in Arthurian myth put it in her face when she went out into the snow and walked around screaming for hours when she fell asleep next to a girl her friends tried to set her up with at a party after finding out she was too young and wrapping her in a blanket and talking to her a while. The cute hacker girl with the knee socks she bought her who begged to be turned into a girl and rescued from her parents who wanted to be a boy was giggling with another teenage girl that if you drink rum and diet coke it tastes just like skittles. Neither one of them were wearing any clothes. She went outside and screamed and screamed and screamed and after that night she couldn't sing anymore. Before that she got compliments. Sometimes. So she went inside and this girl named after a boy who went insane and died as a tree after he drank some potion and fell in love with the king's girl handed her a book so she would have something to do other than throw up from crying. Her father used to yell at her for crying so hard it made her sick. She still does it. Singing or no singing, her lungs still do that. Too big for the rest of her. She tells you the only thing she remembered was "you don't give somebody to the monsters." And the rest was just bullshit. And she tells you that she doesn't want anyone else to die when she dies.

And she tells you that she used to talk to this person. One she made up.

So you know it's worse than the time where she lost her singing voice when one day you see her saying there was this cult that she thinks tricks people into exorcising their own souls, they say it's mindfulness and they used to say it was demons they cast out. But what happens if you have too many souls? What then? She says she beat them but they killed her cat, but now her cat brings the souls back. She says now they want to kill her, but that's okay. Because no one else will die with her.

You know the other her is fake because it's immortal, but it writes songs about how it doesn't want to die. Maybe she might develop jealousy or pettiness or insecurity or rage or grief or anything else. She would never give up her death.

But you turn on the television, you go to read a book

And all the monsters aren't monsters, they're just people she used to know.

"What's that even supposed to mean, 'It's not her'? If it looks like her, talks like her, acts like her, thinks like her, thinks it IS her, who's to say that it is NOT her?"

[strwberri-milk]

Hi berri bbs, can I request a small thing of sylus. Where mc goes to the n109 zone after the caleb plot and just takes a shower in sylus room and wears his top pjs and sleeps on his spot, all while being quiet because he's not there yet and he comes home and finds her like that.

hihi!! im not sure how caleb plays into this request but im gonna maybe think its bc like. youre a little shaken after the experience in skyhaven? so im gonna have it be kinda like, reader is just kinda trying to process everything that happened but not explicitly mention to sylus it's because of caleb quite yet/mention what caleb's become?? idk lol so it just became more. gen comf

You've never had a habit of announcing yourself whenever you come to visit but you'd at least shoot him a text after he was notified either through a surveillance camera in his home, Mephisto, or one of the twins after you greeted him. However, this time all he got was the notification that you used the key he gave you. He watches on his phone as you make your way through the house to his bedroom, ducking into the bathroom.

He can tell by the way you're carrying yourself that something bad happened but he doesn't know how to respond, not right away at least as he's busy. He also knows that if he cuts the mission short just to be with you you'd be mad at him for abandoning "something important" and the best way to optimise his time with you and the ability to talk to you would be to just get his work done. So he does.

He resists the urge to watch you through the cameras some more as you've expressed wanting your privacy even if you are in his home so he just speeds back on his motorcycle (safely, of course). He doesn't usually have a habit of just ditching his things at the door but he does today because the sooner he can get to you, the better.

His heart melts when he sees how comfortable you look, despite the furrowed brows. He gently comes to your side, lifting the blanket to see a set of his pajamas on your form. He gently runs a hand along the side of your body, the silk doing nothing to hide the warmth of you from his palm. He leans over and gives you a kiss to your forehead, wanting to slide into bed next to you but also know he should get changed first.

After showering and changing, he's sure to give a couple of spritzes of your favourite cologne on him before pulling you into his arms. You bury your face into his chest, letting his presence soak into your tired bones as the scrunch on your face finally dissipates. He won't ask anything of it right now but you did tell him you'd be on a business trip for a while and he assumes the trip didn't go as well as you were hoping it would.

When the two of you wake up in the morning he'll insist on a slow day, ignoring his schedule just to provide you some more comfort. You don't really end up telling him what the problem is but he doesn't care - he just wants to be there for you right now, distracting you from the turmoil as he spoils you with his attention.

[egophiliac]

Sorry for the advice you didn't ask for, but if you're strugfling with pulls and REALLY can't decide between the two, Grim might not have a rerun (because as far as I remember, his platinum card didn't, but maybe it was because it was a one time thing) and Silver might (I think all the dream cards did?? I can't imagine they wouldn't but who knows.) These aren't good arguments but honestly the main thing is which card you would be MOST upset about missing. Which is probably both, but something I do is pretend like I'm going to take advice from someone. Then when they pick, I change and try to think of whether I'm disappointed or not. And if you can't tell, try the other way and compare the level of disappointment. Sorry if this is confusing and unneeded, I just feel strongly for other ftp people 😭 Of course there's always the option of sacrificing another device's storage to make an an account and wait like a year. lol. I mean atp it's not a bad idea I think?? Anyway I wish you tremendous luck and also transfer all of mine to you 🙏🙏🙏

thank you, I think I did ultimately need to just...sit down and figure out which one my heart was calling to! as the saying goes, flip a coin and you'll know which outcome you want before it lands. 🤷 (I'm pretty sure Blazin' Hot Grim will get a rerun though next year! they were very upfront about Platinum Grim being a one-time only thing for the 100th anniversary, so the fact that they didn't say anything like that this time makes me think we'll get another chance at him eventually!)

anyway it's probably not a surprise to anyone who I ended up going for. but I do now have a very shiny new metallic boy. :)

he waited until the pity mark, because of course he did. which means, uhhh, well.

they really are gonna drop a fluffy bunny Malleus on me next month, aren't they. ᕕ( ᐕ )ᕗ

well, anyway, that's my gacha luck used up for now, so let me pass it on to everyone who's still working on their pulls! whether you're deep in the anniversary/episode 7 finale vortex, or going on a happy little shopping frolic with Vil, BRING THOSE BOYS HOME 🤞🤞

[lunar-years]

SOTR SPOILERS!!!//

I've already seen some complaints about how the plot was bad and the rebellion attempt didn't make sense/was far-fetched, but honestly that was one of the things I liked best about it!

Yes, the rebellion plot was an EXTREME long shot. The end goal really wasn't clear, the plan itself was shoddy at best with about a million things that could go wrong. It's honestly amazing that Haymitch and Ampert managed to carry out any part of it "successfully." And even then, they're really just the pawns of the rebel adults around them (like Katniss and Peeta in that way, except that unlike Katniss and Peeta, Haymitch's problem is being told too much, rather than being kept in the dark.)

I think it's pretty evident that this was a last minute, thrown together rebellion attempt hastily contrived of by immensely desperate people (and almost certainly prompted by Beetee's son unexpectedly being reaped.) Beetee needed his son's death to mean something. His wife was pregnant. He was probably already foreseeing losing them, too. He needed to at least try this. He was desperate enough to try it even if it was ill-thought and highly likely to fail. Wiress (Beetee's most recent mentee) and Mags (who's basically mother teresa like oh my god maggggs <3) would of course be wiling to jump in with him. Plutarch is desperate to get something, anything, stirring in way of rebellion. And finally they pull in Ampert and Haymitch to carry the thing out, the two tributes who have already been marked as direct, personal targets of the Capitol and have seemingly no chance whatsoever of coming out of the arena alive. it's easy to see why they alone were chosen, no other kids involved. After all, Haymitch has been told from President Snow directly that he is going to be killed. He's as good as dead already. He has nothing to lose.

Trouble is, no one expects Haymitch to actually emerge as Victor, lest of all Haymitch himself, but also everyone around him. The others are all adults who know and accept what could happen to them if the plot goes south. They take on the risks willingly. They are banking entirely on Ampert and Haymitch being dead anyway. And isn't it better to go out fighting back against the true enemy? The only thing Snow can do is take it out on them in the arena, which he will be doing regardless. Unfortunately, they're forgetting just how much Snow likes to play with his food before eating it. It's pretty clear with the poisoned milk picnic basket that Snow was indeed intending to kill Haymitch right up until the very end. He was merely waiting for the right time, after the right amount of humiliation, after forcing Haymitch to watch all his closest allies die horrible, targeted deaths. Only this time Snow waits too late. And then he has no choice but to pull Haymitch out alive so that the Capitol can have their victor.

I think the fact that it all fails so colossally is the biggest point of the book. As Plutarch comments at the end, when it does happen, the timing needs to the right. There needs to be an army to rally behind the rebels. Haymitch was given none of that. He was moved around on a chess board by desperate players. The rebels had hardly anyone on the inside. They didn't have the country behind them, no soldiers. They didn't yet understand their enemy well enough. He is set up to fail on all sides, the rebel side included. And they pay for it greatly.

On the other hand Katniss, when she comes, is very significantly not some grand "chosen one." She's pretty inarguably far, far less rebellious than Haymitch is at the start (in part because they have very different motivations in their games). Breaking into the arena to attempt to shut it down, working to destroy the generator, killing gamemakers in the arena, all that is about 10x more explicitly rebellious than the berry trick. The difference is not that Katniss is smarter or stronger. Imperatively, the only difference of any great significance is that Katniss manages to ensure her acts get seen. The berry trick cannot be covered up or cut out. It's the grand finale. And that's what makes it far more of a threat than all of Haymitch's crazy, reckless schemes to tear down the arena.

(interestingly, I think Haymitch would have been way more successful if he'd had the opportunity to carry out his backup plan of bombing the cornucopia during the final confrontation of the Games. The part of the plan that he came up with entirely on his own. it has to be something the Capitol's propaganda can't wash away, something that would have been impossible for them to cut out.)

Which is ultimately to say, the book is effective because it acknowledges just how complicated rebellion is. It takes far more than a few extremely rebellious, reckless people to make it happen. It takes a whole community banding together and rising up for change. On a series level, I think it also fleshes out some of Haymitch's decisions in the original trilogy, because it's easy to see why Haymitch would be so hell bent on keeping Katniss and Peeta entirely in the dark for so long. After all, look at what happened to him when he was in on all of it too soon.