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reidsnose · 4 years ago

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doodles

overview: reader doodles on her hands a lot and spencer has to give into the temptation of coloring it in

genre: flufffffff

a/n: sorry ive havent posted a fic in like a week, ive been in quite a slump but i had this idea well after midnight but i just had to write it so lmk what u guys think of this one :)

masterlist

doodling on your hands: a once nervous habit that had seeped into your everyday life and now is just a regular habit. nearly everyday you would come to work with clean hands and get home with a mini art gallery on your non dominant one.

Spencer admired this from the moment he noticed it. at first he thought you had a tattoo but when you came back the next day with it completely gone, he was a tad confused, only to catch you doodling on that very same hand a couple hours later on the jet. he thought maybe it was an occasional thing, a habit you'd quit once you got better situated into the team, but after nearly a year you still left work almost everyday with some cutesy sketches drawn on your hand.

Spencer found himself looking forward to your doodles, imagining in his head what you might draw each day, and thinking of all the colors you would add if you had the time. being the great profiler that he is, he noticed a pattern: you subconsciously correlated your doodles with your mood.

after especially hard cases or just bad days you always drew roses.

when you were very happy you drew all sorts of fruits.

anxiousness bore little swampy creatures and lily pads.

tired days filled your hands with random, intricate designs that you didn't even have to try hard to make.

and content was anything else.

he was so impressed and absolutely adored your little coping mechanism. watching you concentrate on making those teeny pieces of art simply for your own pleasure was definitely a sight to see. the way your eyebrows furrowed and tongue poked out a bit was absolutely positively adorable. and soon he had noticed that he was looking forward less to the doodles and more to watching you draw them. and after that he began looking forward to just you.

you were sat on the jet with your back to the corner of the last seat on the plane, creating a pattern of roses on the back of your hand. Spencer plopped down in the seat next to you, growing tired of watching from so far away.

"that bad, huh?" he asked, noticing the type of flower you were gracing your hand with.

"hm?" you looked up, confused.

"you only doodle roses on bad days." he explained, pointing to your hand.

"what? no i don't!" you defended, " i just think roses are neat."

to be fair, you were having a bad day but he could've profiled that without the doodle. he cant be right, can he? there was no way you had a mood system for your doodles! unless there was.

"repetitive strokes are therapeutic, so roses being rough days make sense. the spiral in the middle followed by however many layered petals you want is a perfectly repetitive while still interesting enough to doodle."

"if i didn't know any better i'd say you've been spying on me, Dr. Reid," you teased, enjoying the slight rouge that appeared on his cheeks.

"what! no! i'm- i'm a profiler i notice patterns! i just- spying sounds creepy." he stammered.

"ok. how about admiring." you jabbed, turning a little red yourself.

"fine. but you know coloring helps too." he flipped back to the old topic of conversation.

"unfortunately i only have the standard blue, black and red ink."

"roses are red." he chuckled.

"interesting point," you bent down and reached into your bag, pulling out a red pen and handing it to him, "knock yourself out."

"what?" he looked at you slightly bewildered.

"coloring is therapeutic, you said it yourself. and you and i both know that you need something to relax you after a case like that. we all do." you explained, trying to be as nonchalant as you could knowing his skin would touch yours.

he grabbed the pen and clicked it open, coloring smoothly and slowly inside the lines you had already made in black, careful not to go over them and smudge the ink. you and him both tried your best to ignore the warmth shooting through your bodies from every place your hands touched. his fingertips lightly grazing your knuckles as he worked.you worked your way up your arm, giving you both space to work and by the time you landed, you had a half sleeve garden of surprisingly well colored (and somehow shaded) red roses.

you went home that night and bought a pack of colorful (washable) pens, hoping this little rose garden with him wasn't a one time thing. and even if it was, you would want to add your own pop of color to your doodles.

thankfully it wasn't.

you and Spencer found yourselves drawing and coloring on your hand a lot. he would catch you doing it and pop in over your shoulder just to add a touch of color where he thought it fit. and you began to feel sad washing off what the two of you had created that day, feeling nostalgic for time that has hardly passed.

and sometimes on the jet you would get tired of your own skin, so you would draw little doodles on his hand, often times leaving a little heart at the base of his thumb. these little hearts he avoided washing off for as long as he possibly could because they felt like a part of you was always with him. he started doing the same thing to your hand, a sort of signature the two of you shared.

most days, the doodles on your hands were pretty much fully colored in.

but now Spencer began to worry. what if you get ink poisoning because of his coloring? sure, the risk was statistically low, improbable even; but never zero. so one night after work he went out and bought a little sketchbook and on the front he scrawled,

"y/n's super duper special sketchbook"

upon receiving it, after giving him a hug he never wanted to let go of, you took a sharpie and started editing the title he had given it. so it now read:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook"

the two of you used up a whole page that day, front and back filled with all types of fruits. Spencer smiled to himself, knowing this had made you very happy. you took a second to take a step back and admire him doing the very thing he admired you for. and you understood why; he just looked so precious and you suddenly realized you craved the feeling of his hand touching yours. so you leaned over and drew a little black heart at the base of his thumb. he looked up at you, smiling widely before returning a red heart to the base of your thumb.

and you guys tore through that book, using a page a day and filling it cover to cover in no time. your own personal handmade coloring book. it turned out to be both of your most prized possessions, a pang of sadness filling your chests as you finished the last page.

you felt bad taking it home with you that night, wondering if maybe Spencer wanted to keep it. maybe you should keep it at work so you can both have it. thats the fair thing to do. you looked down, smiling sadly at the little red heart on your hand.

he did want to keep it. but he had a better idea in mind. he looked down, smiling excitedly at the little black heart on his hand.

the next day when you arrived to work all your worries were solved. on your desk laid a new sketch book entitled:

"y/n and Spencer's super duper special sketchbook: volume ii"

you laughed as you read a small lilac post it note that said, "i want to keep this one please" signed with a little red heart in the corner.

ultra mega super cool taglist:

@mac99martin @imhreid @spencersmagic @hollydaisy23 @raelady1184 @a-broken-pact @padfootswife @hey-there-angels @star-stuff-in-the-cosmos @sonnydoesrandomshit @coffeereid-deactivated20210303 @averyhotchner @laurakirsten0502 @reidyoulikeabook @rem-ariiana @spencerreid9 @vampire-overlord @takeyourleap-of-faith @s1utformgg @violetspoetic

#criminal minds #spencer reid #reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader fluff #dr spencer reid #derek morgan #emily prentiss #penelope garcia #aaron hotchner #david rossi #luke alvez #tara lewis #matt simmons #bau #bau x reader #criminal minds fanfiction

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thefirsttree · 3 years ago

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A personal update + my next game

OK, time to do this. I’ve been meaning to do a big DAVID WEHLE™ update for a while now and explain why I haven’t released a new game yet, but you know how life gets in the way. Especially when life is a quarantine hellscape, you have three beautiful, amazing, exhausting kids to raise, a spouse’s job you support, a viral YouTube channel that turns your brain to mush, a thousand emails waiting in your inbox since your game is free on the Epic Games Store (with an impressive number of redemptions too! … meaning lots of emails and customer support issues), etc., etc. What also contributes to my lack of updates is because… I just don’t really like posting online. Fascinating correlation, I know!

Don’t worry, this isn’t going to be a venting/ranting blog post (well, maybe a bit), because my life is seriously AMAZING and INSANELY BLESSED and LUCKY. I can’t believe how many dreams keep coming true, so much so that I feel I don’t deserve it and I really pulled the wool over everyone’s eyes… but I did want to at least be honest, because I owe that to myself.

Wow, where do I even begin? Well, how about we start with the reason I’m even a full-time indie game dev now: The First Tree. This small hobby project I worked on at night morphed into this gargantuan beast (or fox) that took over my life the past 5 years. Which is great! I’m living the dream! And yet, I really didn’t expect it to do as well as it did. At its core, my game is a slow-paced, sad walking simulator (ahem, I prefer the term “exploration game,” but you know what I mean) that somehow seemed to launch at the right time to the right audience. It resonated deeply with some of you, and for that I’m eternally grateful. I still get emails almost daily how my game changed their lives in some formative way. I’m beyond honored.

However, with that spotlight came criticism and demands from the ever-present, insatiable internet. I would randomly be surfing the gamedev subreddit trying to decompress, and I would see a comment by some rando saying how much I didn’t deserve my success, and how it was all one huge lucky fluke. And I believed them!

And to add to it, some devs considered me an indie marketing “guru”, which I was uncomfortable with. I worked hard to market my game every week, and after my GDC talk, people assumed marketing was my passion; the reason I got up every morning. Just to clarify… NO, I don’t like marketing, and I hate being the center of attention. I don’t like asking people for money and wishlists. But I did what was necessary because I was passionate about telling stories, and I wanted to give my story a fighting chance to be seen on the crowded pages of Steam.

So now, you’re probably wondering “well then David, why did you make fancy YouTube videos showing off your success? Not very modest if you ask me.” This honestly could be a long blog post all on its own, because my experience of putting myself in the spotlight and becoming a “content creator” is… complicated. It was an unusual step for me, especially since I never even showed my face online (as a game developer) until my GDC talk.

First off, I always wanted to teach and start a YouTube channel. I love video editing, especially since I’ve been doing it longer than making games! It’s a huge passion of mine. And teaching people who didn’t know they could make and finish games was a huge motivator (and it’s been so rewarding already). But the second reason is, I was scared. I was self-employed, and I was riding the success of a “huge lucky fluke” that would probably not happen again. I wanted to make sure I could provide for my amazing family, and give them food and health insurance and security in these tumultuous times. I was turning my lifelong passions and hobbies into a business, and it wasn’t as simple of a mental transition as I thought.

So, I went all in on YouTube and the accompanying online course called Game Dev Unlocked. I spent years editing the scripts and videos, and polishing them to a shine. At first, no one watched my videos, no one was buying… and in the blink of an eye, the YouTube algorithm picked up my main autobiographical video (“How Making Indie Games Changed My Life”), and I started getting 5,000 subscribers a day. Right now, I’m at 150,000 subs, which is still hard for me to believe. I always had a dream of earning 100k subs on YouTube, so I was pretty happy with the whole thing. Sales were OK, but mostly people didn’t want to buy the course. Then the emails came in…

Something you should know about me: I am a textbook “people pleaser,” and if someone asks for my help, I take it very seriously. If someone is mad at me, even if I didn’t do anything wrong, it’s all I can think about, and it ruins my day. So, taking an onslaught of people begging for help and multiplying that by an impossible amount of people for my brain to truly comprehend thanks to the internet… and let’s just say it wasn’t a healthy mix.

I received thousands of emails from people who were begging me for some kind of reassurance that everything would be OK. That their dreams would come true too. And I wanted to help every single one of them. I went from a nobody working on a game for fun to becoming a spokesperson for the indie game dream. I couldn’t even get a shake from the Chick-Fil-A drive-thru without someone recognizing me and asking for game dev advice. And it didn’t stop there… I would get emails from suicidal kids asking for help, teenagers from Afghanistan asking me to get them out of their country, and on one occasion I received an email from a hopeful game developer in a war-torn country who had just experienced a bomb blowing up their neighboring village. His friends were dead, and he was hoping he could finish a game before he died too, and he needed my help. How do you say no to something like that? Didn’t I owe it to everyone because I was lucky with my hit game and I needed to “pay it forward”? (Something people constantly reminded me of)

And then to top it off, after you’ve given everything you’ve got to other people in need… you get hate mail in your inbox. You spend the whole day serving your children and strangers on the internet, then when the kids are finally asleep, you hit the bed to relax and take a look at your phone to decompress, and you randomly come across an angry gamer in your Twitter mentions telling you your game they got for free sucks, and that you took away a potentially great game from them and that your apology isn’t good enough.

Long story short, I went to a mental therapist for the first time in my life. I was broken trying to care for two toddlers and a new baby in a pandemic (which is very, very hard), taking care of my course students who gave me their hard-earned money and demanded results, and the countless people begging for help on the internet. I was this introverted, internet-lurker trying to take on the weight of the world. I was so tired and hurt that no one cared about me and my needs… only what I could do for them.

Quitting my day job and making this hobby my full-time job has stirred up… mixed emotions. This statement may disturb some of you, but I was definitely 100% happier when I had a full-time job and I was working on my game at night. I missed working with the amazing team at The VOID, working on Star Wars… back when the success of my game was this abstract thing I could only daydream about. Mostly, I was making my game for me with no outside expectations to pay the bills or satisfy the ever-demanding internet, and that brought me a lot of joy.

It’s not all doom and gloom though! I’m actually very happy now and in the best shape I’ve been since the pandemic started. I’ve had to confront my weaknesses and personality quirks, but I’m a better person for it (and I’m sure these issues would’ve come out eventually). I hired an awesome community manager for Game Dev Unlocked who is helping SO MUCH with the emails, I can’t even tell you the mental burden it alleviates. I even leased a co-working office to help separate work from my home, and that’s been a huge help too. I’ve decided to work with my old friends from The VOID on a cool, new VR experience. It will take me away from my projects a bit, but I’m ecstatic to work with a great team again (and not manage anything, whew).

These are all things I would’ve never guessed I needed, because I thought I knew myself pretty well… turns out I didn’t.

The reality is: running a business is HARD. Running it solo is even harder. You have to remember, I was burnt out on The First Tree well into the Steam release in 2017, but I kept working on it for 4 more years due to my fears of failing again and not earning enough money for my family.

So, I was wrestling with the age-old concept of commercialism and art. There was this dichotomy of doing whatever I wanted and being true to my vision (what most people assume the indie dev dream is like), and doing only what customers wanted to buy. This is something that has killed me with YouTube… in one specific instance, I was super excited to make the exact video I wanted to make. I loved every part of its creation, and I thought it had a message that would inspire everyone. I lovingly edited it over several weeks, posted it, and excitedly waited for the stats… and it was by far my worst performing video.

This is not a new problem. Even the Sistine Chapel by Michelangelo was a commission forced upon him by the very violent Pope Julius II. My wife and I regularly talk about the fine balance between artistic integrity and commercialism, a problem she is very familiar with as an artist who constantly needs to balance what she wants to make with what the customer wants to hang up in their home.

For The First Tree, I was lucky. It was pretty much what I wanted to make (I had to compromise a lot of things of course), and it turned out millions of people wanted it too. Recently, I thought the safe business decision would be to do it all over again, so I started work on a spiritual successor to The First Tree (an idea that I may revisit one day since I do love the story idea). But that isn’t happening anytime soon. Trust me when I say I am now currently burnt out on animal exploration games.

So that realization left me with a question: what do I do next?

I’ve decided I need to make a game that I want to make, for me. It will be a bit different and I’m almost certain most fans of The First Tree will not love it… but it’s an idea that gets me super excited. It’s an idea that could help me fall in love with game development again.

A few more details: this game will be story-driven, first-person, and will use the Unreal Engine. That means development is gonna be slow going, because I have to learn a whole new tool. The “smart business” decision would be to make something quickly in Unity which I’m already familiar with… but I want to do this for me, and UE5 looks like a lot of fun. I’m also shooting for an early-ish release date so I avoid burn out and I keep the game short: I want to release it in Fall 2022, but knowing game development, it will probably take longer.

With the help of my therapist, I’ve also concluded that I’ve been too accessible on the internet and that my self-worth isn’t determined by the amount of people I try to help online. Of course, I love helping people and seeing them succeed, but I need to step back and focus on my family and myself. I will delete my social media apps on my phone (I will still post big updates occasionally) and stop responding to most emails, tweets, DMs, etc. It’s not that I’m ungrateful… in fact, if I don’t say thank you or at least acknowledge the incredibly nice people who share a sweet message about my game or want to tell me how I inspire them (still hard for me to believe, lol), I feel a ton of guilt… but I need to let that go. Please know I’m extremely grateful to all the fans who follow my work, so even if I don’t thank you directly, I truly mean it: thank you.

I will still post and stream occasionally on YouTube when I want to (and I still do live Q&A’s for my GDU students). The online course sales will help support my family as I work on a potentially risky game idea (and my new job will help alleviate the risk too). I’m gonna try one more marketing experiment and sell a mini-course soon (and add an Unreal section), and after that I’m done working on it. A gigantic thank you to the people who bought my course and are part of the amazing community, it has helped me and my family tremendously, and it’s inspiring seeing the games you make!

I’m a bit worried about the whole thing since this new game idea could flop, which could definitely affect my family. But a sappy, high-school yearbook quote is coming to mind… I think it applies here: “A ship in harbor is safe—but that is not what ships are built for.”

Thanks for reading,

David

#gamedev #indie games #the first tree

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

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Omg thank you so much for writing my request for tom :) Can I ask for a part two where you try not to read the comments, but end up doing so, and most are good, so it's fine. Until you post a picture of you on your account, and tom's fans start calling you names, and tom's so tired of all that happening that he posts on his account a whole paragraph about how his personal life it's no one's business?

Posted

This is part two, find the first part here

Summary | previously Tom had accidentally posted a picture of the two of you, exposing your relationship. And so, you decide to purposely do the same on your Instagram, though the response is much different than what his post had received.

Warnings | hate comments, some angst, swear and demeaning words

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

Tom was asleep beside you, his head tucked into the crook of your neck, you were able to feel his gentle, slumbering breathing against your skin, and it caused goose bumps to prickle upon the outer layer of your flesh.

The two of you had vastly fallen asleep upon the couch, and your phone was on the coffee table, and to say that you were itchy to reach for it was an understatement. There would be comments on the picture that Tom accidentally put online, and you were hungry to see them, whilst simultaneously nervous.

Tom was a big actor, known for his presence in the marvel cinematic universe upon many other projects, and some of his fans, whilst proven during Comic-Con panels, were borderline crazy. They’d snap if they even so much as saw something that they didn’t like, and this time, you would be on the receiving end of it.

Being motionlessly captured, with your face on show, was certain to bring much attention. You too were within the acting department, but there had been no correlation between the pair of you until now, most of the world weren’t even aware that you knew each other. And not to mention, your span of reaching an audience was smaller, although, certainly not non existent.

You had reprised fame during your appearance on Modern Family, as the friendly neighbour of Phil and Claire, and a classmate of their eldest daughter, and not to mention Luke was crushing hard on the character you played, though, with that said, your character laughed his efforts off due to the age difference, yet still found his pining weird and often uncomfortable.

Another role that you were becoming known for was your character in Netflix’s Irregulars, where you met Harrison Osterfield, Tom’s best friend. Through filming the show, you were introduced to the Spider-Man actor, and the pair of you had hit it off almost instantly, if you didn’t include Tom keeping his amorous distance, wary just in case there was something going on between you and your mutual friend. To his relief, there wasn’t.

And thus, when he received that confirmation, he was far more forward, yet respectful at the same time with his intentions. That was how you had ended up here, as he half used you as a pillow, his arms wrapped around his ribs, and his soft peaceful snores filling the void in the air.

Stretching your arm at its furthest length, your fingertips wrestled with the side of your phone, padding it closer to yourself, so that you could slide it across the small living room table, and closer to yourself. You were victorious in your efforts, and so on you unlocked your screen, going to your camera app, and leaning sideways so that you could snap a few pictures of your predicament with your loving and sweet boyfriend.

Looking at the images that you had captured, a smile arose upon your face; you truly did love this man, and you wanted the whole world to know how much you adored him. You wanted them to see that you cared about him, and that he was in good hands with you, to cool off any of his fans that were processing their hurt feelings for seeing Tom with another woman, show him that he was getting the love that he deserved.

Extreme courage coursed through your veins, focusing within your fingertips as you opened insta, gulping as you readied to post the image. There was no editing required, it was perfect just like him. And so, the caption was something to think about, you didn’t want to make it too obvious that you were dating as the online community already assumed, the priority was to show them that you cared about him.

‘He’s taking a nap, and crushing my hip a little, but I don’t mind 😌’ you typed, your finger hovering over the post button as you chewed your lip. It was easy to press your digit down, and so, taking a breath, you did just that, encouraged by the previous and kind comments on Tom’s earlier post.

Within a matter of minutes, your phone was blowing up, and you were too tempted not to glance at the growing comment section. There were various accounts, some supporting your confidence to show such a domestic version of yourself with Tom, you assumed that they were your followers, and the ones that weren’t so light hearted were those that intently watched anything on the media that involved Tom.

‘He’s too good looking for her, she should be dating someone within her league. Tom is clearly taking pity on this hoe.’

‘Aw look at him, and ew, look at the state of her. He could do sm better 😔’

‘Why doesn’t she look like his exes, they were hot af, and now he’s with some rando that is after his fame and money. Maybe she should just take better roles if she wants to get noticed so bad.’

Your eyes kept reeling through the intentionally hateful words that continued to come through beneath the image. Tears began to fall from your eyes as you tried to stifle the movements and the sound of your gentle sobbing, as to not wake Tom. Quickly, your fingers raced through the social media, and you, knowing that there would still be presence of the image somewhere online, you deleted it, muting notifications and shuffled back into Tom.

The man stirred, tugging you closer by your waist, pressing a kiss to your locks as he awoke. He noticed however the way that you refused to face him, and so he rolled you over with a gentle grip on your shoulder, frowning when he saw the recognisable redness beneath your eyes, and the sad expression floating within your eyes.

“Princess, what’s going on?” He wiped his thumb beneath your bottom lashes, collecting your tears as he worriedly looked down at you. His brown eyes searched every inch of your face for an idea, but found nothing but your broken hearted expression.

“It’s nothing Tommy.” You tried and failed to convince the man, wincing half heartedly as he sat back on his thighs, gripping your hips so that he could pull you up with him, giving him a clearer view of your face. It was clear that he did not believe you, and he hummed, trying to make you give in. Eventually, after much concerned staring, you gave in, slumping your shoulders as you tucked your arms around the back of his neck. “I posted a picture of us, the response wasn’t great.”

Instantly, Tom’s brows uplifted, surprised by your action, though he had a strong inkling of a feeling that the reaction that you had earned was not complimentary. These were not tears of joy, instead they were stricken rivers of anguish and insecurity running down the length of your face.

“Let me see.” He spoke, softly to you, but his intents towards defending you strong. You shook your head lightly, tracing circles upon his knees as you gulped, flickering your guilty gaze up to his watchful eyes.

“I deleted it. I just couldn’t deal with knowing that the longer that it was up, the more hate would be directed at me. I’m sorry.” Tom grasped your face by your tense jaw, his fingers stroking your chin as he sadly stared at you.

“Never be sorry. Now send me the picture you used so that I can give everyone a piece of my mind.” Reaching for your phone, you sent the image to him, and in a second his device pinged, revealing that it had successfully sent to him.

“Cute.” He described the picture, his hands furiously typing away on his phone, his constant unsettling of his rabidly moving fingers drawing anxiousness from you. “And some.” Tom finally breathed, closing his phone as you went to his account, checking what he had posted publicly.

‘This may concern some people, who keep sticking their noses in where it does not involve them. I appreciate you all, the support, the love, everything. But one thing that I do not stand for is people coming at my girlfriend just because they don’t approve of our relationship. If you check mate, I never asked for your opinion, I love y/n, and some online hate, that needs to stop otherwise you are not someone I want to be calling themselves a fan of me, needs to stop. It makes no one happy or feel healthy with spreading such toxicity around the internet, if you don’t like something, then keep your blood mouths shut, this has nothing to do with you, it is just me and my girlfriend. I’d think you’d want me to be happy, because I want the same for all of you, so can people please give my partner some respect, she’s done nothing wrong but bravely chose to reach out to you all, and she had that spat back in her face. It’s not on, and I want this to stop now.’

“Tom...” you were shocked by the paragraph, it came across as aggressive, and very over protective. His action, that could affect how he was cried by people that put him on a pedestal, and that made you feel guilty that he had reached out to them in such a way.

“It’s okay baby, I’d do anything for you, and you know that. No one messes with my girl.” He put his arm around your shoulders as he pulled you close placing a kiss upon your forehead. Not only was he your boyfriend, but he was your protector, your knight on a shining cell phone.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland one shot #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #tom holland reader insert #tom x reader #tom imagine #marvel actors x reader #mcu actors x reader #imagines #imagine #xreader

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mythiccheroacademia · 5 years ago

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Hey I love you hc so far I was wondering if you could do one if s/n was about to get in a fight with this girl but Aizawa canceled there quirks but that didn’t stop s/n from putting her hand on her and beating her ass. How would Bakugou,Todoroki,Izuku, and Shinsou react to that

that’s so sweet of you, honey bunny! thank you sm for this ask! ive been itching to write something spicy lmao. i hope you like this!

A/N: i hope you don’t mind, but this s/n will be female-identifying just because if they’re going to get physical (and it’s not for hero training), i’d rather it be between two girls. i personally am not comfortable with the idea of a man putting his hands on a woman over something that’s not life or death.

Warnings: lots of cursing and a few punches

PSA: I don’t condone violence! Especially between women. I think us girls need to stick together. However, if someone is coming at you disrespectfully, they need to get checked and that's on period. Just try to use your words rather than your hands hehe

Before I forget, Happy 2020 everyone 💜

Bakugo Katsuki:

y’all know this man is the king of using his fist first and words later

you’re pretty sweet and laid-back and you mind your own business

anyways, there was this girl didn’t like you for some reason

all she did was gossip and talk shit about you

bakugo told you he’d help you jump her but you were trying to the bigger person and told him you’d talk it out

you and the girl met during lunchtime, you took Mina to help mediate

you politely confronted her

she denied it and called you crazy

you pulled out the receipts

her “friends” sent you all the screenshots

“why are you so obsessed with me?” you ask

“who would be obsessed with an ugly bitch like you?”

“sis, who you callin’ a bitch?”

now Mina wants you to throw hands

like why is she calling YOU a bitch when she’s the one that’s talking shit and you don’t even know her???

things start to escalate and you both are screaming at one another and attracting the attention of your friends

she uses her quirk on you and everyone gasps

like, what the hell?

Aizawa immediately uses his scarf and cancels your quirks and orders both of you to the office

but you’re seeing red at this point

“you’re lucky i’m being held back bc i’m not afraid to pull up on a bitch, and that’s on period”

“shut the fuck up you dirty looking rat”

you don’t know if Aizawa loosened his wrappings or not, but you were able to get free and you went in

Mina and Bakugo cheer

the other girl got suspended

you got two days under house arrest, but you thought it was worth it

bakugo was proud and wouldn’t stop bragging about it

“tch. of course my girl beat her ass. she can check that, dumb bit--”

you hit his head, “boys aren’t allowed to call girls bitches, idiot. but thank you baby”

Todoroki Shoto:

you dated some guy from another school who cheated on you with some girl

you were pretty torn up about it

you broke up with him without a second thought and found someone much better :)

you didn’t know the girl or care about her, so you just forgot about her*ladies, remember to check your bf first before the other woman. she’s not in a relationship with you, he is*

but for some reason, she wanted to torment you

you two went to U.A. but were in different classes

you didn’t see her much, but when you did, she’d make sly comments

it got on your nerves, but you just let it go

shoto told you she wasn’t worth the energy

but then she saw you and todoroki at your locker and said,

“probably won’t be long until I fuck her boyfriend again,” she giggled to her friends

you slammed the locker shut, that was the last straw

“if you have something to say, say it to my face”

“i think you heard what i said, bitch”

“what’s your problem with me?”

“you think you’re all that bc you date the hottest guys in school, but they only want you bc you’re a skank”

shoto looks the girl dead in the eye and says, “then what does that make you?”

the girl gets so angry

but at you???, and uses her quirk on you

shoto pulls you out of the way

aizawa comes out of nowhere and cancels all three of your quirks

it’s meant to calm you down, but the girl is trying to go at you

“you’re nothing more than a $5 prostitute and once everyone passes you around like the whore you are, i hope you get an STD and die”

yeah, all bets were off after that

even aizawa was like 😧

shoto put your hair up for you

“fuck her up y/n”

quirk or no quirk, you beat that ass

Midoriya Izuku

*y’all are in your second-year*

izuku is weak for strong-willed women

literally went 😍🤤 when you told him he should ask you out

you spend a lot of time with each other and he knows about the situation with your (equally as strong-willed) ex-best friend

your ex-friend started to spread disgusting rumors about your little sister (who also goes to U.A as a first-year) just because it got out that her crush liked your sister

izuku, trying to be your hero™, thought y’all should talk it out so he brought both of you to the lunch table

bless his heart but this boi don’t know

you both sat in silence before you glared at your boyfriend

“why am i in front of this girl?”

izuku: 😯

“don’t address me like i’m some child” she says

“then stop talking about my sister like some little ass girl, bitch”

“shut the fuck up, bitch! ain’t nobody care about your ugly ass sister!”

“yo izuku, why the fuck did you place me in front of this low down dirty bitch”

izuku again: 😮

he immensely regretted this

izuku tries to calm you two down, but things just get worse

suddenly there are mentions of area codes and he didn't quite understand how they correlated to how well people fight, but he didn't have enough time to think about it

he’s trying to hold you back now

someone called aizawa over because you two started using your quirks

your sister is begging you to chill out but you’re too furious to listen

aizawa cancels your quirks before things go too far

izuku got so scared because he knows the punishment for fighting and he would hate it if you got expelled because of his dumb idea at peacekeeping

“y/n, please calm down! it’s not worth it”

even with your quirks gone, you two are rolling around the ground, punching, scratching, and screaming awful things at each other

yells at bakugo for cheering you on

Hitoshi Shinsou:

you know this man is shady af

you two make snarky comments to each other all the time

he loves the way you hold your head up high

he just loves your confidence, it was one of the things that made you so attractive to him

so it hurts him when you started being insecure and timid

he asks you what was going on, but you just say you’re tired

but after a while, you breakdown to him about some girl that’s been bullying you

he knows how it feels to be demonized, so he comforts you, and offers ways to defend yourself against the bullying

very mature™️, very adult™️

it seems to work for a little bit, but then it gets worse

her words start getting to you and, instead of being sad, you start getting angry

but its that really calm type of angry

shinsou defends you a lot, but one day you tell him it’s okay

then you tell the girl, “next time i see you, it’s on sight baby girl”

it was in a sickly sweet tone that sent shivers down everyone’s spine

on the lowest of keys, it turned shinso on

he’s like: 🥰😏

you and your bully were then paired up for combat training

you two fight each other and you’re going at her with everything you’ve got

shinsou is at the side, cheering you on

he thinks you look hot when you’re angry

also, he’s so ready to see you destroy that girl

for educational purposes

it’s obvious that you two are fighting with ill-intentions and aizawa is forced to cancel your quirks

she doesn’t stop running her mouth though

“you deserved to be picked on”

“oh word?”

“did i stutter?

there was a moment of intense silence as you stared at her

then shinsou yells, “snatch that hoe, y/n!”

and you did just that

you don’t know what happened to her

but you got detention, but your boyfriend gets it too for instigating

so both of you just eat sweets and gossip to each other

#mha #bnha #bnha scenarios #bnha headcanons #bnha x reader #bakugou x reader #midoryia x reader #hitoshi shinso x reader #todoroki x reader #mha x black reader #bnha x black reader #bnha x poc!reader #bnha ask #mha ask

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cozytwilight · 4 years ago

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evermore / twilight saga correlations 🌲✨

willow: Alice & Jasper because she “saw him” before he knew her. The lyric, “life was a willow and it bent right to your wind, head on the pillow, I could feel you sneaking in” made me think that this type of feeling was Alice’s pov. Also, “I come back stronger than a 90′s trend” is SUCH Alice attitude. Also relatable to Edward/Bella in that he is “wrecking her plans” being human and she is begging him to “take her hand” in changing her to be with him forever but whatever

champagne problems: about Jacob from Bella’s pov when he receives her and Edward’s wedding invite. Champagne problems means insignificant problems in the grand scheme of things, yet feels big to the person/people dealing with the problem. These problems could be those such as the problems brought upon Jacob and his family by Bella being with Edward/the Cullens. Lyrics like “your Midas touch on the Chevy door” goes back to early moments such as Bella’s first time seeing Jacob since they were young as Charlie is showing her the Chevy he bought her from Billy as well as moments in New Moon when they would drive in the Chevy together.

gold rush: I immediately thought of the rush/euphoria/drama of Edward and the Cullens and the way they are perceived at school for being “gorgeous”. Bella’s first interaction with Edward and getting to know him. Also thought of Rosalie’s beauty and how stunning she is depicted to be.

‘tis the damn season: New Moon!!!! Specific lyrics like, “I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay” and “there’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me” (Bella’s pov) “the only soul who can tell which smiles I’m faking” and “Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires” (Jacob’s pov)

tolerate it: This one could be Edward’s pov @ Bella or Bella’s pov @ Edward. In Edward’s pov, he feels constant guilt in having Bella involved with him. I thought of the pregnancy bath scene when Bella takes off her robe and Edward watches her from behind, feeling completely disgusted with himself and what he’s done. In Bella’s pov, she feels she is putting his family in danger for her life, constantly feeling like a burden because of her clumsiness and weakness as a human.

TW // r*pe | no body, no crime: Honestly, I thought of Rosalie killing Royce and her r*pists right away with this one.

happiness: New Moon; Bella dealing with the depression and nightmares from Edward leaving her. Specifically the lyrics, “Past the blood and bruise, past the curses and cries. Beyond the terror in the nightfall haunted by the look in my eyes that would've loved you for a lifetime”.

dorothea: I thought of Carlisle and Esme. They are the most wholesome couple of the series in my opinion and I picture parts of this song depicting Carlisle’s pov of their relationship when they first met. Lyrics like, “when we were younger down in the park, honey, making a lark of the misery” make me think of the resentment they felt early on toward their immortal life, but making the best of it together.

coney island: Matt Berninger’s verse is Edward’s pov after leaving Bella. “What's a lifetime of achievement if I pushed you to the edge? But you were too polite to leave me.” and “Will you forgive my soul when you're too wise to trust me and too old to care?” This goes back to the constant guilt Edward is feeling for his involvement in Bella’s life.

ivy: I thought of Bella no longer wanting to be a human with the lyric, “the old widow goes to the stone every day but I don't, I just sit here and wait grieving for the living” and “my pain fits in the palm of your freezing hand” referring to her feelings toward Edward.

cowboy like me: Literally just thought of Jasper. Also Charlie Swan and Billy Black...in this house 🏠 we stan the dads. long story short: New Moon! Bella subconsciously falling in love with Jacob during their blossoming friendship; fixing motorcycles in his garage and spending time together, he gets her mind off losing Edward and helps pull her out of her depression. I literally picture this song on the soundtrack like WHILE Bella and Jacob are in the garage together.

marjorie: Bella’s dream seeing her grandmother in the mirror, but it was really herself grown elderly and grey.

closure: I immediately thought of Leah and Sam with this one; specifically Leah’s pov. The hurt she felt when Sam left her for Emily and is forced to be in closeness with him through the pack. Leah is one of the best characters and I’m sad she never got a brighter ending :(

evermore: Bella’s pov in New Moon while spending her days depressed and hopeless, as the song goes through a “grey November” and December. She grasps onto any memories of Edward and acts recklessly to hear his voice and confirm he was real, lyrics like, “I thought of you in the cracks of light. I dreamed of you, it was real enough to get me through”. Bon Iver’s verse is Edward’s pov, last verse transitions into Edward’s return and into Eclipse “I had a feeling so peculiar this pain wouldn't be for evermore”

I also posted this on my twitter account, you can see here - and I included some photos! :)

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thecat-isblogging-blog · 4 years ago

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Lupin and Dumbledore

I just got to the chapter in Half Blood Prince where Harry tells the Order Dumbledore has died. What I found very interesting was Lupin’s reaction. I think it’s the first time up till then where we see the glimmer of what Lupin is like when he loses control of his emotions, specifically hurt. Always so composed in height of emotions, here he almost breaks, shows us something a lot more deep. We’ve seen him get angry and become vengeful, but in sadness he had always managed to put other people’s pain before his.

We can see this when Sirius dies, for Harry he kept his strength and was there for him even when Lupin himself probably felt as if everyone had died all over again. But this is Harry’s first deep loss, Lupin wasn’t going to crumble.

But with Dumbledore, Lupin reacts on the same level as Hagrid - granted the man is probably tired and afraid. But what I think is that this scene is showing us how close Lupin was to Dumbledore. Here is the paragraph after Ginny announces the news:

‘No!’ Lupin looked widely from Ginny to Harry... Lupin collapsed into a chair beside Bill’s bed, his hands over his face. Harry had never seen Lupin lose control before; he felt as though he was intruding upon something private, indecent; he turned away.

This is big, even Harry feels this is almost ‘improper’ of his professor who is supposed to always show strength. Which of course is us looking through our dear Harry’s eyes, who struggles with public displays of emotion. To Lupin, not only did the wizarding world lose the beacon of light - he lost a father-figure. The only person outside of his family who saw him as just another person, who chose to love and care for him instead of showing prejudice. It was because of Dumbledore’s protection that Lupin survived, because of him that he made friends, got an education, found work. Now this person was gone, and we see the blow.

Now here we get to my unpopular opinion, now hear me out before you send armies - I don’t like the hospital scene where Tonks confesses her love. I cringe, actually. As someone who ships Remus and Tonks together, I’m sorry that this is the scene we got. I love angst, I love a good ‘you deserve better’ speech - and heck yeah give me the pain and hurt. But I find it uncomfortable that Tonks chose this moment to openly share her love in front of the Order. I get the correlation with Bill, I get it that it might be ‘now or never’, and I understand that it has to be in front of Harry because that’s how we learn about it.

But I’d like to think Tonks knows Lupin pretty darn well at this point, and she knows what the man needs, he has just lost one of the most important people to him. Tonks knows that Lupin needs time to heal and mourn, not to start a relationship overnight.

But worry not comrades, that is why I am writing fanfiction. Because side characters who only get so much plot, deserve all of my time and thinking space.

If you have anything to add, let’s chat in the comments!

#Remus Lupin #nymphadora tonks #half blood prince #albus dumbledore #remadora

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getitinbusan · 4 years ago

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Full Service

-Namjoon Smut

PAIRING: Namjoon x reader

GENRE: Smut

WARNINGS: Oral M/F, Kind of sort of but not really public sex, Swearing, Intercourse (x reader in my fics is always on birth control with a trusted partner) Long term cheating.

RATING: 18+

WORD COUNT: 2200

SUMMARY: Other than having nothing, Namjoon would be the perfect boyfriend. You need to choose your family and their money or the poetic love of your life.

Driving through the darkness, you watched for the box of lights that kept the station illuminated to appear. In the distance you could just make them out, they were like a homing beacon in the night, and like a moth you just couldn’t stay away. It had been a bad day and only Joon could fix it.

Your tires slowed as you pulled in, the headlights shining into the window alerting him to your arrival.

Walking out he crossed his arms on your open window and rested his head on top of them.

“Full Service tonight Y/N?” he gave you a dimpled smile.

Turning the ignition off, you climbed out of your large black Range Rover and walked around the vehicle to stand next to him.

“I don’t know why a tiny girl needs such a big car,” he chuckled while wrapping his arms around you.

“Only the best for my family Joon, if it’s not a status symbol it’s not for us.” You’d repeated your father’s motto so many times it rolled out of your mouth too easily.

He dropped his arms and began to walk away from you, opting instead to take up a defensive position by the pump.

“So what happened today? What pissed you off so much that you came here looking to slum it with me?”

He was unusually upset at your words, his face turned into a frown and his eyes looked sad.

“Hey, Joon… what’s going on? I thought we were both cool with this?”

You questioned him but you weren’t sure you wanted an answer.

“I’m just trying to correlate how my dick is good enough for you but I’m not.”

And there it was. For the past 8 months you’d been showing up here whenever you needed him. What was he to you? A friend with benefits, an ego boost, an escape?

“Joon please, you know my situation. I can’t just leave my fiance and disappoint my family. I thought you were okay with helping me let off steam.”

You walked over to him and laid your hand on his shoulder, “You’re the only real thing I have in my life.”

Sighing, he looped his finger into the waist of your jeans and pulled you close to him, “It’s starting to hurt Y/N.”

You leaned your head onto his chest and inhaled, the smell of gasoline hung onto his clothes creating a scent memory that made you crave him.

"What should I do Joon? You know how I feel about you but my family would disown me. I’d lose everything."

You looked up at him hoping he could just understand.

He knew he had nothing to promise you other than his love and his poetry, so he offered the one tangible thing he could.

"I’d take care of you in all the ways he can’t."

You began to say his name when he cut your words off with his lips. Gripping your hips he pulled you closer.

“I know he can’t fuck you like I can, you wouldn’t be here if he could.”

He gripped your hair and ran his tongue up your neck sending shivers down your spine. Grabbing his hand you pulled him into the building, the bell ringing above the door frantically as you made your way into the store.

Pushing him back against the counter, you fumbled with his belt desperately trying to get it undone.

“Right here?” he asked “Aren’t you afraid someone will see?”

Rubbing his hardened cock you stopped to look him in the eye and teased, “You’re not getting shy on me now are you Joon?”

He stopped you, cupping your face. “Y/N, I’m not the one with something to lose. I’ll take you right here in front of the window if it’s what you want.”

You dropped to your knees and kissed his bulge through his jeans stopping to bite delicately at the tip. A soft “fuck” escaped his mouth, “please baby girl.”

You loved when he begged, nothing got you wetter faster than knowing how much he wanted you.

Lifting his shirt you moaned at the sight of his pubic trail, your nose against his abdomen licking your way down its path. Popping the button of his denims you looked up at him while slowly working the zipper down. His blue boxers sat low on his hips and you pushed them down just enough to expose his rock hard cock.

Reaching in you cupped your hand around his balls and rubbed them while he twitched impatiently waiting for your mouth. He looked beautiful with his eyes closed, his smile upturned, and his muscular chest moving with his heavy deep breaths.

His cock always smelled like soap, and it turned you on thinking about how he must give himself a few gratuitous pumps in the shower, maybe thinking about you.

Your head was spinning, you needed him, wanted to give him something more. Wrapping your arms around him grabbing his ass, you thrust him towards you. Circling his beautiful firm pink tip with your tongue you teased the bead of precum leaking from his slit.

“God you taste good,” you let out before plunging him deep into your throat.

The animalistic grunt he let out encouraged you to continue. Wrapping your fingers tightly around his base you held him firm while you pushed and pulled your mouth over his length working him into a moaning mess.

Suddenly he stopped you, pulling you up into him he swung you around to the back of the counter and pushed you down out of sight.

“Shhh,” he whispered.

You could hear a series of voices approaching. The bell chimed and you were no longer alone.

“Hey Joon, what time are you off tonight? Should we wait around?”

It was a male voice speaking but hearing others in the background you guessed it was his wild band of housemates.

“No, it’s okay, I think I might be late closing tonight,” he answered, trying to get them to leave.

You decided to keep going, see how he’d handle a little head under the counter. Your hand pumped his now softening erection while your mouth gave his exposed balls little kitten licks. The frustration on his face as he tried not to surrender to the pleasure you were giving him was humorous.

A deep voice broke through the others, “Is that the famous Y/N’s Range Rover out there?”

You froze, had he told them about you?

He stammered trying to come up with an answer. “Yeah, it needs some work so she left it here.”

There was laughter amongst the boys and too many things being said, you strained to hear while keeping pace.

“You love her”

“You are so whipped Namjoon”

“Are we ever going to meet her? I for one don’t believe she’s real”

“I told you guys he wasn’t going to break up with her like he said”

“Yeah, I thought you said you were calling it off.”

You halted your movements in reaction to this information, his dick definitely needed to not be in your mouth anymore.

He glanced down at you on your knees hiding behind the gas station counter. Even with the unflattering fluorescents highlighting the tears glazing over your eyes, you were still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

He felt like an asshole, his head hurt at the thought that this may be the last time he’d see you. He needed to explain.

“Listen guys, the boss has been reviewing our shift tapes and I don’t want to get in trouble for having you hanging around, I’ll just meet up with you later back home.”

You didn’t see it, but his eyes looked down towards the counter hoping they’d get the hint.

“Oh! Shit, sorry Joon, ahh.. yeah we’ll get going.” The bell chimed and you were alone again.

He reached his hand out to help you up and pulled you into his arms.

“I’m so fucking sorry Y/N.”

You couldn’t be mad, how could you blame him? You had a fiance, you were using him for sex, you knew he deserved so much more.

“I guess we had to end it eventually,” you said as a tear fell down your cheek. “Is it because you don’t love me?”

He shook his head at you, “Without you, there’s no me, you’re the best of me.”

You threaded your fingers with his and grasped his hand tightly, “I love you Joon.”

Kissing you softly he whispered, “I love you too.“

In a desperate last attempt, you tangled your fingers into his hair and pulled him closer to you. Your lips became one as your tongues searched for their counterpart. Lifting you up he placed you down on the customer service counter and moved to stand in between your legs.

As close as he was, it wasn’t enough.

"Joon I need you inside me.”

It sounded desperate but you didn’t care, the thought of never being with him again was devastating.

He gently caressed your cheek and wiped away a tear that lingered there with his thumb.

“It doesn’t have to be over, but you have to choose, I can’t share you anymore.”

His hand slid under your skirt and his fingers moved delicately over your panties.

“Don’t talk right now, just let me prove how much I love you.”

Shifting the fabric to the side, he ran his fingers through your wetness until he was coated enough to slide one into you.

With one finger inside and his thumb drawing circles on your clit he used his other hand to unbutton your blouse. Pulling down the cup of your bra he exposed your erect nipple and leaned in to circle it with his tongue. He was well aware that combining the two moves affected you in the best way.

He knew your body, your needs, he could make you cum in seconds if he wanted to, but he didn’t want to, not tonight.

Getting on his knees he grabbed your panties and pulled them down, tossing them aside. Pushing your thighs apart you could feel his warm breath getting closer to where you wanted him the most.

His tongue moved slowly over your clit, circling and sucking as he slid his fingers back in. Taking his time, he languidly enjoyed every drop of excitement he coaxed out of you.

With your legs shaking, he eased himself away.

“I need you to slow down baby, I want you to cum with me, okay?”

You could only nod in agreement, your head was floating in the clouds incapable of coherent thoughts or words.

His mouth met yours softly, and you moaned into the kiss. He pulled away and smiled knowing that tasting yourself on his lips turned you on more than it should.

His stiff cock was still out and he couldn’t take waiting anymore. Moving in to meet your entrance, the counter height lined you up perfectly. He slowly pushed into you and simultaneous sighs escaped you both.

This was right, he belonged here, how could this be the end? You became a tangle of arms, legs and mouths, not wanting to miss any part of each other.

Reaching the end, climax imminent, he held onto you tightly while he gave his final thrusts and came inside you.

Neither of you moved. Afraid to break away, the tears rolled down your cheeks. His hand was in your hair and he whispered, “I want to be a part of your page, I want to Interfere in your story, as your lover.”

He fell out of you and pulled away turning his back. He was zipping himself up and the permanence of it all hit like a ton of bricks.

“Joon, please…” you pleaded.

“I just can’t anymore,” he choked out through his tears.

“No, listen to me… please…Joon, take me home.”

You placed your hand on his shoulder and he turned back to look at you.

His eyes were red and his lips were quivering.

“My home?”

You nodded.

“It’s not what you’re used to Y/N, it’s dirty and I live with 6 guys… ”

You rested your forehead against his. “Joon, as long as I’m with you it doesn’t matter. With you, anywhere will be home.”

#Namjoon #Namjoon Smut #Namjoon imagine #BTS Namjoon #purplearmynet #BTS #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader

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appleb0mb · 4 years ago

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20 Facts About TWSTxDAL! (Part Two)

Note: The following that is non-canon are NOT self inserts. This is just how I thought they would act depending on their personality (this applies to some facts).

[ Curious? ] - 20 Facts About TWSTxDAL (Part One)

(20) Leona’s codename is ‘Prince’.

No reference here! That’s just his codename given to the Anti-Spirit Organizations worldwide (also my preference).

(21) Cores can be located anywhere on the Spirit.

Some Spirits have their cores located on the centre of their forehead, neck, and stomach. It can even be in unusual places such as their teeth, and fingernails.

However, this makes it more difficult for Spirits to be killed - since you have to damage and destroy the core completely. This can kill the Spirit almost INSTANTAENOUSELY.

(22) Leona’s core is on his right shoulder.

(23) Leona eats and craves meat, and maybe some humans.

Leona enjoys meat in general (canonically true), but very rarely does he eat humans. However, this is extremely rare for Leona - since his cravings haven’t changed much (in present time).

(24) Leona hates humans, AND spirits - NO exceptions.

Not gonna lie, he treats everyone aggressively and harshly. You have to earn his respect - nobody’s special in his eyes.

When Leona is amused, he prefers teasing Spirits and humans alike and getting Spirits and humans fired up in general. This is mainly his approach in gaining information and testing his spiritual power and the Spirit’s/human’s power themselves (since firing people up can result in physical fights).

(25) Ruggie is a lot more stealthier than Leona and Jack combined.

Trust me - Ruggie is a lot more agile than you think. Due to his Spirit form and his Spirit power, Ruggie can see 2 - 3 miles away from his location as a result.

And thanks to him, Leona, Jack, and members of Savanaclaw have managed to avoid a lot danger and risk - making him all the more reliable and one of the most important members of the Savanaclaw team.

(26) Leona met Ruggie first before he met Jack.

Don’t worry! It’ll be revealed sooner or later in Savanaclaw: Memories.

(27) Leona and Ruggie are troublemakers.

Well, what can I say! They tend to make trouble before and even after you‘ve met them. I would say Ruggie is more of an active troublemaker while Leona prefers undermining and staying in the shadows.

However, the difference between Octavinelle and them is that Savanaclaw has to fully plan out what they’re doing without going off track (most of the time). Besides, most of their plans involve a whole group to make the plan successful (since Savanaclaw is a group of Spirits).

(28) Savanaclaw is not 3 members (Leona, Ruggie, and Jack) - it’s a whole Spirit group.

The Spirit group consists of 25-50 members, and each of them do what it takes to survive. Many Savanaclaw members came from different backgrounds, but they all have one thing in common - a primal, persevering instinct.

(29) To get into Savanaclaw, you have to pass Leona’s test.

This will be further referenced in Savanaclaw: Memories I believe, but Leona doesn’t want anyone useless and vulnerable in his group. Even though a Spirit or even Leona himself may recommend a candidate - they must pass the ‘Savanaclaw Test’.

(30) *Leona is not the first leader of Savanaclaw.

Leona’s leadership was passed down by will and by passing the ‘Savanaclaw: Leader Test’. For now, I would say he’s the 3rd generation of the Savanaclaw group.

* - Take this fact with a grain of salt. May change in the future.

(31) Jack can adapt to cold environments more than Leona and Ruggie combined.

There’s a reason why! But I’m not sure if I can just say it just yet.

(32) Leona has encountered Rook before.

OHOHOHO! This one’s definitely a spoiler here. There will be a bit more detail about this in Savanaclaw: Memories - but not in full detail. You’ll have to wait and see...

(33) Ruggie and Jack actually hated each other before they got along.

They don’t know why themselves! But I think partly the reason why they despise each other so much is that they have completely different mindsets into getting what they want.

For example, Ruggie would sneak and lie - while Jack would ask and say the truth.

This could apply to Leona, but Jack holds more respect for Leona than Ruggie since Leona is the leader of the group (that isn’t to say that he doesn’t respect Ruggie).

(34) Ruggie is a pretty good liar, Leona is a harsh, ‘mean’ Spirit, while Jack is a polite, honest one.

I mean this is kind of canon-

Ruggie will lie if necessary, Leona can be mean both ways - such as just being cruel to Spirits or humans that get in his way, or ‘tough love’. Tough love meaning, “Stop talking to me about your problems and just fix it. I’m tired.” kind of response.

Jack is honest, but he’ll be polite about it to a certain extent. Honestly, Jack means well canonically and in the TWSTxDAL series in general.

(35) Leona has a soft spot for Savanaclaw/Leona’s comfort zone is the Savanaclaw group.

Leona as its leader and as a member of the group, has been with Savanaclaw throughout. Even though he hates to admit it, he is indebted to them for protecting and raising him to be who he is now.

(36) Members of Savanaclaw speak their own language.

To be more specific, their own language originated from the 1st gens, or the “Primes”. The Primes created a spoken language as a way to strengthen their bonds as members of the Savanaclaw tribe. Therefore, the tradition has been passed on till present time.

(37) Most - if not all - of the Primes have passed away, or have stayed at their members’ tombstones.

Kind of sad, but yes - most of the Primes have passed away ever since they were murdered by the A.S.Os (Anti-Spirit Organizations). So, most of the Primes either remove themselves away from the Savanaclaw group completely, stay with their lost friends, or go in a frenzy (Overblot stages).

In present time, there are many myths about what happened to the Primes - but most of them have died off or have corroded (this is under extremely hot conditions), starved or killed off by A.S.Os (normal conditions), or turned to stone (under extremely cold conditions).

As for their cores, they either dissipate into a form of an acid (hot conditions), taken by A.S.Os for experimentation (normal), or dissipate into the permafrost and the soil itself in the form of a plant, tree, flower or even a fruit or vegetable.

(38) Jack is STILL the newest member of the Savanaclaw tribe.

And the members still tease him for it.

(39) Leona, Ruggie, and Jack have a very rigid relationship...

You see, Leona, Ruggie and Jack have known each other for a while, but they haven’t had a friendly relationship. It’s more of ‘survive-or-die’ relationship.

For example, if circumstances arise and the situation risks their survival - Leona or Ruggie or Jack will leave one another no matter what. Both have compromised that if it’s for their safety, they’ll understand - whether they want to die or not.

However in return for leaving them, the other must protect themselves (and others) and must NOT die in the process - so that they can accomplish and complete the will of their former comrade.

Once the will is done, the living Spirit must return to the other’s place of death and give their farewells before leaving on their own accord.

This mindset is very much common amongst Savanaclaw members. Though, it can change depending on the circumstances.

(40) ...but they still care for each other.

Sometimes, Ruggie intentionally lies not for his own gain but for protecting Leona and Jack.

Sometimes, Leona intentionally fights Ruggie and Jack in a bad mood in order to help them cool down and ease their problems.

And sometimes, Jack confronts and speaks to Leona and Ruggie honestly about good and bad points of view to avoid huge risks and danger, even if Jack doesn’t want to say anything or isn’t involved whatsoever.

They all mean well, and would do things in the moment without their friend’s consent for the survival of their whole team, even if they get mad about it.

This kind of relationship also fuels their ideology of ‘the thrill of the hunt’; which keeps their relationship pleasant and surprising.

So basically - their relationship relies on unpredictability and instinctual trust and growth. As long as you don’t hide secrets, and have no borders but acceptable boundaries - the relationship will continue to thrive - because being straightforward, bold, and determined is key.

In a way, this can correlate to Octavinelle’s relationship, but there are a lot of differences in comparison to Savanaclaw. I will go into detail about Octavinelle’s relationship in the next 20 facts!

YOU GUYS HAVE A GREAT DAY AND STAY SAFE (◍•ᴗ•◍)❤!!!

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werezmastarbucks · 4 years ago

Text

coming back was a mistake?

the reader bonds with kai over their shared dislike of mystic falls

previous part

kai parker x fem!reader

word count: 4180

music: cherry by lana del rey, stella maris by moby

She came to the football field every evening at approximately the same time. Kai started weighing which sight he liked more: the pretty smart dog catching its frisbee in the air, or the grumpy girl in her skin-shade top, running around like the devil was trying to bite her in the ass.

Well, the dog hopped so high, and it was so lively! Plus, dogs are all adorable.

But the crop top though.

After several evenings Kai started noticing the pattern. She always stood in one place, as she was catching her breath, and looked at the clouds. She might not even notice she stops at the same very spot every time she finishes running. After the second evening, and after she left, Kai came down to the court and put a scratch five inches long on the ground with a jackknife. She always stood exactly there. He looked up into the now darkened sky, seeing the first stars, and pondered, as if her thoughts could be captured by him now, floating there, above where she’d been. What was she crying about so gravely? Her hands were shaking as she pressed them into her mouth, like children do. After she was done, she walked away to her house, relieved, and didn’t look back.

That was puzzling. Might as well busy himself with the mystery of the sad moody girl who cries on the football field every evening, while he’s waiting for the merge.

You stood, silently praising yourself for throwing your jacket into the car at the last moment (come on, monkey! we ain’t got any more time! Damon was yelling. He couldn’t hide how much he liked it when you came to visit every year, and you felt bad for despising the visits). The wind was unusually ferocious for the warm month, but then again, this place was deep in the waterfall region, up in the hills, an open spot. Plus, there must have been some hardcore magic ingrained right in the soil. As you stood, and watched, while the Salvatore brothers were humping and cracking their backs, digging up the earth, you pretended to feel the magic oozing out. The burial places always felt special. Having lived in Mystic Falls, you worked up this rare type of intuition.

You didn’t want to come. As you returned, and was busted by the Mystic Falls gang on the very first evening, you reminded them of your foremost rule: you do not engage in their bullshit anymore. Let them fight all the original vampires of the planet... or the werewolves... whatever... you only came back once a year, for seven days, and weren’t keeping up with the Draculashians. A tiny part of you was curious. But it hit back hard, every time. Involving yourself in the MF action was dangerous, and made you feel like an old woman who keeps complaining about them kids being loud in the street.

You were on your way to Caroline’s when somebody called Damon, and he put on his working face. Turned out, they need to undig some bodies exactly today, because the Little Shit (Damon didn’t specify whom they referred to) made his conditions. Well, work’s work. You hadn’t been to this spot before. From up here, you could even see the distand hills of New Orleans. You missed that place.

“How many bodies do you need?” you asked them. Stefan stood up to look at you curiously. As if saying, there are the bodies - we need to get them. Get them all!

“It’s not how many”, Damon helped, “it’s which ones”.

“And what are you gonna do with them?”

“I will eat them”, somebody whispered. You shivered a little under your clothes, but didn’t budge. You looked at your side. Malachai from the bar.

“Joking”, he snickered, “I don’t eat corpses. But I do have jello worms, you want some?”

You examined him thoroughly.

“You have blue ones?”

He looked down the pack.

“I think so...”

As you tried to fish out the blue ones, he looked at you.

“Do you eat bodies?” he asked.

“No, not really”, he sighed. “Thanks”.

“Mm-hm”, he was chewing, looking at the vampire brothers as they worked. Damon shot you two a glance which didn’t say anything specific.

“You’re the Little Shit?” you guessed.

“They call me that? Rude”, he moved his shoulder as if he was a bit cold. “I guess I do somewhat irritate them”.

“Somewhat?!” Damon growled. You cringed.

“And what are you, a digging up works inspector?” Kai went on. You grinned.

“Oh, you’re Y/N! You’re the girl they’ve been talking about, non-stop”, he realized.

At the grave, the brothers exchanged glances, since of course, they haven’t been talking about you in Parker’s presence.

You nodded.

“You long here?”

“A week”, you said, and rubbed your arms, “why is it so damn cold”.

“It’s the spirits disagreeing with the whole vandalizing ungraving, you know. I can’t calm them down just yet”, the guy said knowingly. You wondered internally what he was after all. He squatted a bit, putting his palm to the ground.

“Hold it”, the pack of candy was shoved into your hand and you filled your mouth with sour-sweet worms. Your jaws were about to get glued together.

“Woah, yeah, they fight back”, he took the hand away. “Listen, you”, he pointed his finger at the soil. You looked up at Damon and Stefan, asking them silently what was up with this dude. “I’m about to suck out your whole miserable existence, so you better comply, bitches”.

“Bonnie’s really good at communicating with spirits”, you said musingly.

“She’s also very good at lying, cheating and tricking people into trusting her and then stabbing them in the back”, Malachai said happily, standing up. He reached for some worms politely, forgetting it was his pack to begin with.

“You’ve met her?”

“Met her? Ha, I’ve been locked up with her. What a controversial creature”.

“Where is she? I haven’t seen her since I came”.

“Yeah, she’s... uh...” Kai cocked his head, thinking, “I might have left her in a... magical prison, you know”.

“What an asshole”, you said. You remembered the judgemental, brilliant, restless Bonnie Bennett. “Get her back”.

“It’s not that easy, miss”, Malachai sniffed. “Why do you care, anyway?”

“We studied together”.

“Okay then. See the diggers? We’re doing this all to get back there and get Bon Bon out”.

Damon puffed as if he could get tired. He was just probably listening and was severely annoyed. You knew at once when you saw Kai here how Damon could be deeply irritated by him. Their personalities did not correlate.

“And you? What are you doing?” he asked. Like he meant something else. You watched his curious face, the sweetness filling your mouth so much the gums started hurting. You needed water.

“I’m just here, man. Chilling”.

He nodded to his own thoughts.

“Hm”.

You turned back to the Salvatores simultaneously.

“You wanna go on a date?” Kai asked.

You haven’t been on a date in years. You were not the type to go dating.

“Stop this freaking wind, will you”, you shuddered yet again, instead of the answer. Kai got to the ground immediately.

You drove up to the corner and walked a little to the Grill doors. Malachai was standing there, waiting, like he was the Italian lover boy at the times when families of two children were willing to start war over dignity, and he was serenading to somebody. He didn’t say anything, just smiled at you; his gaze said things instead of him. Putting his arm above your head, he opened the door, and you entered the bar.

“The other way”, he took you by the forearm and then his fingers slid down to your wrist. Somehow, you got goose bumps on your skin at his touch; it was irrational. As the music filled the space, crappy, hipster Mystic Falls music, he led you to one of the tables closer to tha bar counter. You were trying to decipher the glint in his eyes, almost haunting, when you realized you‘re staring at each other.

“What?” you grinned even, uneasy, as your head cocked, and you caught yourself blushing on the inside. Get your act together. He’s not even that handsome. Well, maybe, okay, he is very handsome, but he’s one of those, so, don’t get your hopes up. You recalled how you two mocked the working Salvatores together, eating the chewing candy and cursing the dead. Nothing like doing nothing, bullying busy grumpy people. The conversation started itself.

“The music here is awful”.

“You’re very pretty”, he said shyly. “Maybe even too pretty”. He gestured towards you. There wasn’t any ogling with him, he was sincerely charming. He must be dangerous.

“The whole face and the... hair thing. Do you ever have problems because you’re pretty?”

The waiter, Maureen, approached you, and you had to stop for a while. She looked at Kai obediently, without paying you any attention. You found it eerie.

“No”, you began, and then thought. Well, every ‘pretty’ girl has problems sometimes. When it comes to brushing against the majority, the bar for ‘pretty’ is very low. If you walk down the street, and somebody throws a glance at you, they manage to see you as ‘pretty’.

“Well. You know, you sound like an asshole if you say you have problems because you’re good looking”.

Kai cocked his head like a bird, question in his eyes.

“Speaking of assholes, explain again how Bonnie ended up somewhere alone?”

He sighed.

“It’s a long story”.

You shrugged.

“We’ve got the whole evening”.

“You know, I’ll tell you, she killed me, you’ll ask how, I’ll have to go back a bit and explain how the magical prison works, you’ll ask what she and Damon were doing there, I’ll have to go back and explain, you’ll ask how I ended up there, and I’ll have to give you my whole life story”.

You took the straw in between your lips.

Kai’s nostrils flared a little.

“Alright. Maybe it was my fault a little bit”.

You were just drinking, not saying anything, and Kai started crumbling down. Must be the whole face and the hair thing.

“Alright! Alright. You ever heard of the Gemini coven? Of course you didn’t”.

You shook your head. You weren’t sure if you wanted to actually listen to the whole life story of this guy. That’s exactly how Mystic Falls tricks you into being one of them. It’s just full of dramatic, twisted life stories.

“It’s a witch coven, the coolest one, well, it used to be. Now almost all of them are dead, and soon, I will be the only one left”.

“Because you’ll kill them all?” you asked innocently.

“Yeah”.

“Yeah, of course. Why am I asking. Stupid”.

“I was born without magic. We have this thing, in the coven, the twins have to duel when they turn twenty one. The one with stronger magic wins and lives and absorbs the other’s life force and powers. But I was born without magic, so”, he tilted his head left and right, as if saying, well, you guess how it goes.

“Big disappointment. My mom used to lock me up in the basement for days not to embarrass guests”.

“What?!”

“Yeah. And this thing... I can absorb magic, because I’m a siphoner. It’s like... if I feel magic somewhere, I can take it. Then use it. Then I need more”.

“So, that’s why you were crawling on the ground there”.

“Yeah”, Kai nodded, “and the oldest bodies of those witches have the most magic, so, I now have enough strength to go back and bring your precious Bonnie home”.

“So, your folks gave you hard time then?”

He got distracted by your nails clicking on the glass. He was like a cat, his eyes clutched the sound, the flickering lights of the evening Grill dancing in the dark of his eyeballs.

“Do you sharpen them on purpose?”

“Of course”, you muttered, “that makes people want to touch me less”.

An uneven breath left his lips. You realized you found him endearing. What a cute, chaotic creature, dressed like a Soft Boy, but with a dark scheme on the back of his mind, eyes darting from here to there, and the tongue completely detached from brain. No wonder Mystic Falls couldn’t handle him.

“Scratch my hand”, he asked, putting his palm on the table. Amusement curled your lips.

You put your palm on his and tickled.

“Were you a twin?” you asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I was. My sister is still alive, but you know, if the merge ended up happening, she’d be dead. Because even without my own magic, I’m stronger than her. She’s all... spells from the books, rules of conjuring, flower growing magic. I’m a natural. Which is ironic”, a sad chuckle clouded his voice for a second. “My dad used to tell me he wished I was never born at all, even if it meant they missed an opportunity to have a set of twins for the merge”.

You eyed him carefully. He talked sad, but looked entertained. He was turning and pulling his hand under your tickling, like a child.

“You’re a big boy now”, you heard yourself, “you know how them fanatics are, right?”

“Hmm?”

“Just because it’s their fucked up world doesn’t mean you were a mistake”.

Kai nodded.

“I killed half of them anyway. My sisters and brothers, and my mom”.

You stopped tickling for a second.

“Uh, you killed your siblings and your mom?”

He was taking a sip and nodded.

“Mm-hm, yeah. I hanged my little brother from the banisters on the staircase. Have you ever killed somebody?”

An uneven chain of thoughts raced through your mind. Any other place, you would’ve freaked out. Here, it’s kind of fine. Everybody’s like that. Kai was a bit extreme, of course. Him confessing killing his child siblings on your date was a bit of a thrill pill. It’s not like he smothered Caroline with a pillow. Or pushed Elena’s car from the bridge. Of pinned Damon to the wall of his own living room. Or turned a sixteen year old schoolgirl into a raging vampire right in time for Halloween.

“You look like you killed somebody”, he whispered conspirationally. You turned his hand and scratched a bit harder. He didn’t notice.

“Is it your witch observation, or a pickup line?”

Kai grinned.

“I’ve told you everything. You tell me why you’re coming back every year”.

“Who told you I do?”

“Damon”.

You rolled your eyes.

“Just to visit”.

He narrowed his eyes.

“That is a lie. You’re lying to me. You hate this place. You don’t come here for a full week out of your own will to visit people you don’t even like”.

“It’s not that I don’t like them, I just...”

“Can’t stand them”.

“Their shenanigans. How long have you been here?”

“Since spring”.

“Have you noticed”, you even leaned over the table a little bit, and his fingers wrapped around your palm with determination. His hand was warm and dexterous. “That they’re in deep shit every week? These people don’t chill. It’s one cosmic threat after another, and most of the time, it’s Damon’s fault”.

“Yes”, Kai said gravely. “Yes. And it’s always about romance. Everybody is in love with everybody”.

You started laughing with relief you didn’t know the source of.

You were tickling his palm gently as you spoke, and didn’t even notice. Suddenly, Kai nearly jumped.

“Wait, you said, awful music?”

“Of course”.

“Give me your phone”.

You didn’t reply, looking at him.

“Come on. You wanna dance or not? I’ll go talk to the DJ”.

“Talk to the DJ?”

“Yeah. I’ll bring it back to you”.

Kai didn’t. A minute after he left with your phone, the mood changed. Even the lights went darker. You finished your drink and then recognized your own playlist coming in on the speakers. When he returned, pulling you into the crowd of people gathering to dance, you looked around at the couples. Malachai, the guy who grew up being locked in the basement by his mother and hearing that he was a mistake of nature, turned out to be an okay dancer, in fact. Perhaps he was just fucking around when he sang in the karaoke. He pulled you up to him and couldn’t stop himself from touching your arms as if tapping you for magic you might have been hiding. His hands explored the lean lines of your waist as you moved, and it didn’t feel forced. Going on a date with someone you barely know, you usually expect all kinds of awkward collisions, but this here was light-hearted, sincere, like neither of you cared enough, connected with your shared displeasure with this town. Neither of you really wanted to be here; Kai said he was waiting for something connected with the merge in September, because, after all the years he spent in the prison, he thought he had another shot at merging with his sister. Apparently, they’re all stoked to duel and kill their twin or die, well, let them. The less mental cases.

Not wanting to be here made you pull close to each other as if you were a proud unit, judging people around silently. People, weirdly, didn’t seem to mind to dance to Lana Del Rey the whole evening, then switching suddenly to relatively unknown soft hip-hop. They just moved, drunk on the evening, consumed by the calm twilight of the place, and you danced, too, with Kai’s hands sliding up and down your shoulders, soothing you like a snake charmer.

Suddenly, he leaned into a kiss and you didn’t pull away. You collided like waves, gentle at first, then, hungry, and wild attraction made your head switch off. His one hand laid on the back of your neck and the other, secured the low of your back, like he was a completely normal guy on a completely normal date, having completely normal heat coming up to his throat. Maybe he was, at the moment. You found it hard to break the kiss, feeling how strangely comfortable it was, like you knew each other forever. Shared spite does miracles to people’s minds.

You drank a little bit too much, perhaps, so your head started spinning, and you were forced to open you eyes. You looked around, still in his arms, and everybody - and that means everybody - in the bar was watching you, not dancing anymore. The music was still on, but people froze completely, mesmerized, and stared at you without any expression.

“What are they looking at?” you whispered.

“They’ll remember witnessing something beautiful, but won’t know exactly what”, Kai said nonchalantly. You shot him a glance.

“What?”

“I compelled them all”, he brushed them away with his hand, “it’s a private party”.

“That’s abuse...” you thought out loud.

“You think I’m evil?” Kai asked. Somehow it didn’t sound connected to your notion.

“Nah”.

Perhaps you should’ve given it more thought. You didn’t even see how impressed he was by the easiness with which you shook your head.

“Just bitter”.

He looked around, and people moved again, like nothing happened.

You couldn’t stop kissing each other even after you left and walked down the street away from the bar.

“You wanna go see a special place?” he mumbled into your face, his breath warm and sweet. “Your heels will disagree with it though, we’ll have to take ‘em off”.

There was almost lust in his voice.

‘Special place’ turned out to be the watching tower behind the school. Mystic Falls was such a small, pathetic place that it only had one sport court, one square and one park. The watching tower was called that because, when you were all fifteen, the bravest kids used to climb up the platform to watch the Founders Day fireworks. It was a steel construction resembling the tower for the musical engineer at a gig. Nobody ever figured out what it was initially for. Maybe Damon and Stefan should’ve dropped their whole vampire wars and first ivestigated that.

Kai was right though: the narrow ladder was made of iron and you had to take off your shoes. The platform itself stood about twelve feet up and was big enough for five people. You laid shoulder to shoulder, and only then you finally realized. It was the night for Perseids.

Brilliant white comets were shooting through the skies. Kai put his hand under the back of his head. You thought of how once you were watching shooting stars with your father back when you were a child; one of the stars fell somewhere behind hills and he said that it exploded. He convinced you he’s seen the afterglow of the explosion, and with time, you have convinced yourself you’ve seen it, too. Bright, short, white flash of misty light, like a flickering halo above the mountain. This memory was completely fake. Just like his belief that the red stars are the youngest. Father knew jack shit about space.

“You ever compare yourself with the size of universe?” you asked. You were afraid to sound too romantic, or stupid, but you were drunk enough.

“Yeah. I like stars”.

“Do you feel small or big?”

“Small”, Kai replied obediently.

“Does it make you feel lonely, or is it a liberating feeling?”

“Lonely”.

“Does it make you wanna die or live forever?”

“I’m planning to live forever”, he said with convitction. You turned your head and discovered he’s been looking at you.

“Aren’t you mortified of the future?”

“I’m just very tired of dying”.

Your brows gathered together. You reached for his cheek and touched it with your fingers to make sure he was flesh and blood.

“You can’t die in prison world”, he explained.

“Oh. Are you alive right now?”

Now, Malachai was a little surprised.

“I think so”, he chuckled. “Hey, you. I’ve been spilling the tea all night and then you distracted me with kissing, and now I’m realizing you said nothing yourself”.

You wondered what Kai has done to deserve the title of Little Shit. You imagined he somehow incorporated you into his plan since he was so nice to you. He looked like he was geniunely interested.

“Nothing to tell. I don’t want to”.

“That’s not fair”.

You shut him up with a kiss.

As he let go of her hand, seeing the yellow light from the window, he has already decided everything. The door let the wave of bright flood him, and, before it closed behind her back, he turned invisible and hopped inside.

The house stood empty, with the light on in the kitchen. He didn’t know if she seemed like somebody who’s afraid of darkness, but it was strange. Kai let her go upstairs alone and cruised a little around the kitchen and the living room; her house, like her, felt mysterious and so familiar. When Kai finally made it upstairs to her room, she was taking a shower. Malachai touched every little thing that laid around: he put his palm to the wall, fidgeted with the jewelry she left on the bedside table; sat on her bed, opened and closed the curtains and left the outline of his hand on the window. He touched the handles of the wardrobe and brushed lightly over the dress she’s just been wearing, that she threw onto a chair.

When the girl came back, he expected her to cry again. Because of their date, she skipped her running session and didn’t go to the football field. As she stood at the mirror, Kai came up so close to her, he even wondered how she didn’t feel the tip of his nose barely touching her wet hair. She threw the towel on the floor, and Kai looked in the mirror. He couldn’t see himself, but he knew he was there. He wondered what they would’ve looked like together.

Then she froze and turned her head as if hearing something. Kai managed to step away as she rushed to the chair for clothes. She put on sweatpants and a shirt, and went downstairs. Kai was sure he didn’t hear anything.

Curious to no end, he followed, down to the living room, and then the kitched, the light turned on virtually everywhere in the house like she was terrified of shadows.

“No, I just came back”, she said, to nobody. Kai walked in front of her and stood in the middle of the kitchen. She looked over his shoulder. Then sat at the table.

“Fine, when did you come back?”

Pause.

“I thought you said you didn’t leave the house nowadays”.

She was talking to the empty room, a bit sad, not like when she was with him.

Wow, she is nuts, Malachai thought. Then he thought hard and repeated, to himself,

she is absolutely insane!

#kai parker #kai parker imagine #kai parker x reader #vampire diaries #vampire diaries imagine #TVD #tvd imagine

66 notes · View notes

pockypino · 3 years ago

Text

late entry for aug. 26, 2021

began writing 8/27/21 1:32 am

yesterday was a day. a strangely lovely day.

i woke up late, or at least tried to pull myself to wake up late so i could spare myself from talking to my dad. i know that sounds mean and sad, and i think i’m overthinking it, but when i’m with or around my dad there’s always some sort of tension. i always feel like if i do the slightest thing incorrect around him, i will set him off. he’s not careful with his words, nor does he think about the impact he has once they leave his mouth. he calls everyone who is offended by what he says “sensitive”. my entire life i have never been free from being called that word.

i take a shower, and then i text my sister asking if she needs me to let her dogs out (but i assume no because her boyfriend was off). she said no, but she asks if i have any plans to which i say no and she asks if i wanna go to oak table with her. of course i say yes, i will take any opportunity i get to be with her. i love her very much.

i greet my dad and he asks if i’m going anywhere, to which i tell him my plans. i go back to my room after that interaction, and i already feel exhausted. sad, pathetic, and weak to say. i don’t know, there is something about interacting with him that makes me feel uncomfortable and stressed out. he can be a nice guy, but it can be hard to remember sometimes because of his attitude. maybe it’s just a stoic dad thing.

i forgot to mention i woke up sad, because i remember how upset my parents were or seemed to be when i got home. i do believe i am reaching that age where i don’t want to be living with my parents, or to at least be around them as often as i am. i know we are all adjusting to life and its change this past year and a half. its a brutal adjustment though if i might just say. i am up in my room, locked away, and my first thought is to watch a studio ghibli movie. it is a thing i do when i am feeling sad. hayao miyazaki is a sad man who creates beautiful things, and i like to think in that one way we are similar, except he makes much more beautiful pieces of art. i decide to watch when marnie was there, a sad but favorite piece, and i decide to make art. in my smaller book, i paint a green background. on a bigger piece of paper, i make a pink background. that’s as uch progress as i can make before my dad comes to tell me i have two packages (my clothes and a wire grid for my wall).

my sister arrives and we leave to her house. she tells me about shenanigans at work, we pick up her boyfriend, and we go to oak table. on the way she tells me more work stories. we get a window seat, i get apple juice, they get coffee in pretty mugs, and i talk to her boyfriend about his job. i remember looking down at the stores and trees below the hill and looking at the target my boyfriend was currently working at. our food takes a while to come to our table. i remember how excited i was whenever someone would order apple pancakes and the people in the kitchen would ring a bell and a choo choo train sound would be heard. i lit up and giggled, and i remember my sister telling me i was like a child. she pulls out a yoyo from a book store we went to in portland, and her boyfriend shares the same child-like excitement i had when someone ordered apple pancakes. i felt in that moment as if she were another mom of mine.

our food arrives, and it was delicious. we finish, and we leave while my sister’s boyfriend pays for our meal. i bet it felt really nice for my sister to not have to pay and i bet it felt nice for her boyfriend to be able to pay for a meal we all thoroughly enjoyed.

my sister tells me we can go pick up my boyfriend, and so we head to target and walk around for a bit until his shift was finished. we walk around the store, and i can still clearly feel my boyfriend’s hands wrap around my waist as we walk and look around the store. after a bit, we all go to petsmart as my sister wants to get an aquarium for a potential axolotl. my favorite part was looking at these frogs that would dart across a tank and just sink and jump again.

i remember looking at all the fish tanks and wondering what it’d look like if the store closed off the fluorescents, and just left the lights of the fish tanks to illuminate the store. if i could, i would do just that. i would connect to the overhead speakers of the store, and slow dance with my love. i could feel how warm he is, i could feel his chest on mine, i could feel his chin resting in the crook of my neck. unfortunately, i am a powerless, chubby, 17 year old girl.

after that, we go back to my house to see my parents who are leaving. my boyfriend and i are then left to our own devices and we watch doctor sleep. it wasn’t very interesting in my opinion, and had little correlation with the shining. we had made a dinner reservation at 6 to hakata. he’s never been there, and so i wanted to take him before they permanently close down.

driving there was nice, despite how much i didn’t want to. the weather was my favorite kind today, sunny, cold, and a little windy. i roll the windows down o my freshly washed care (thank you dad), and play music. my boyfriend orders yakinikudon and i order tempura udon. it was delicious, and when it came time for the bill we caused somewhat of a scene. i eventually give in and he pays (i hate him very much so). it’s okay though, i bought him some japanese chips he likes a lot after our meal. can you believe that even after 4 months of dating that was out first time eating at a restaurant together? in somewhat of a formal setting? it felt like a real date to me. it was lovely.

i’m not finished writing about my day, but it’s currently 2:42 am and i should sleep soon, despite not feeling tired in the slightest. well, i’ll see you tomorrow little blog with my beautiful ghost readers. sleep well, or have a nice day. maybe even both.

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notquitecanon · 5 years ago

Text

Take Care of Yourself // Criminal Minds/ Marvel Crossover pt. 6

TW: drug use (prescribed medication), borders on depression, self-blame, talks about Spencer’s addiction

A/Ns: I’d like to preface this with the fact i’ve never taken prescription narcotics so if I’m way off base, I apologize. Secondly, this is mostly just a filler bit to showcase how I felt different characters would try to comfort a friend and also set up for the next part.

I’m sorry it took so long to get this out, I wrote and rewrote it and I still don’t like it.

and sorry it is so long!

Other parts here

_____________

You closed your door behind you, not bothering to flip the lock but sighing as you dropped your go-bag off your shoulder. It had been three days since Emily died, and you had just gotten back from her funeral- the clock on your wall read a little past 4 pm. (Garcia was nice enough to let you stay in her Quantico apartment until after the service.) Dropping your keys on your entry table, you furrowed your eyebrows- all your mail was there and sorted, no doubt by Steve. A wave of guilt passed through you, you hadn’t even texted him since before that night. Not that you’d really spoken to anyone, most of the team was still processing- you were stilling mad at yourself.

The funeral had been a good service, elegant and honoring. Rossi, Hotch, Morgan, Spencer carried the casket, along with two of her older friends. Her mother flew in, tearfully thanking the team for trying so hard. Somehow that hurt even more than her blaming the team for her death. The entire team placed red roses on top of the polished coffin. The pastor said pretty words and prayed over the gathering. Then it was over, and the casket was lowered. Garcia, JJ, and Spencer hugged you as you left, while Hotch, Rossi, and Morgan chose simply to nod to you.

Natasha had been following the case’s progress, and called you- you didn’t pick up, instead of listening to her voicemail of condolences. She sounded worried, and you appreciated the sentiment. You passed by your desk to plug up your laptop, stopping to look at the picture by your lamp- a team picture, taken after a case that ended better.

The kid was saved, with no injuries, and the unsub had undeniable evidence against him. The whole team was still wearing their vests, smiling proudly at each other, even Hotch- the photo had been snapped by the local newspaper and Garcia had them printed and framed as Christmas gifts to the team. You and Emily were standing beside each other, Morgan had just clapped her on the back- you smiled remembering how he was teasing her about getting home for her hot date that weekend. Spencer was listing off some facts about the correlation between abductions and first dates, making a wild gesture with his hands while Rossi and Hotch shared a proud look behind him. That had been a good day.

You opened your computer, your lock screen held another memory: cooking lessons with Rossi. It was a candid shot caught by accident. You had handed Reid (who had no idea what he was doing) your phone to take a picture of the girls together. You thought he caught the nice picture of all of you smiling- instead, you got a picture of Garcia throwing plain pasta at your face while Prentiss, caught off guard, snorted laughter into her glass of wine, JJ was beside Garcia hands covering her mouth as she watched the events unfold. Spencer clicked the button too late, but it was your favorite picture. Even the guys in the background looked happy- except for Rossi. Hotch was standing by Rossi, who had just noticed what was happened you remembered him scolding “Italians don’t throw their pasta! Especially that close to my WHITE furniture!” Morgan was barely in the shot but was laughing as the pasta hit your hair.

Everywhere you looked there were memories of her. The blanket she got you for your birthday that you draped over the back of your couch, pictures of the trip to Atlantic City on one of her Gambling weekends, the soap she left in the shower she left the last time she crashed at your place, her favorite wine in your fridge… Sometimes you didn’t notice how much someone was apart of your life until they were gone.

You sniffed, the familiar sting coming back to your eyes, salty tears welling up as you gently dabbed at your face as not to irritate the bruises around your right eye. You finally were able to take the bandages off before the funeral, but they were still tender, purple and yellow dying your face like a bad tattoo and the skin was still split (fortunately, any other bruises or cuts could be hidden by your clothes… mostly).

Fingers knotting into that blanket, you took several deep breaths trying not to breakdown again. A few stray tears escaped, sliding down your cheek and darkening the baby blue material as you half-choked back a sob- the sound was sharp, high pitched, and sad. You watched as the mascara laden tears diffused into a black stain on the blanket, and that pushed you over the edge.

Your knees trembled as you sobbed, the ache of losing a friend was overwhelming but the anger you felt was a close match. But at the moment there was nothing to hit, kick, or shoot so both anger and sadness expressed themselves in pained cries and angry sobs. Normally, you were hard to sneak up on, but your guard was down so you didn’t even hear the doorknob jiggle.

“(Y/N)?”

You startled at the voice, but automatically realized it was Steve. Turning away, you carelessly wiped at the black smears under your eyes and winced when you applied even the tiniest pressure on the bruised and split skin.

“I should have knocked, I’m sorry, I didn’t think you’d be…” He trailed off, blue eyes training in on the inky bruises peeking from your collar and then to the way you were favoring one leg, “(Y/N), what’s wrong? You’re hurt.”

You sniffed, chest shuddering as you tried to get your breathing under control. In your peripheral, you could see Steve take a step towards you, his hand twitched like he wanted to comfort you but didn’t know how. Steve had seem a grand total of four women cry: his mother when his father died, Bucky’s mom and sisters when he was drafted, and Peggy when he crashed the plane. Well, heard that last one. He wouldn’t consider himself an expert in comforting crying women.

“I’m fine, Steve.” You croaked, still not completely facing him. He sighed as if he could smell the bullshit in your words. Hoping it would satisfy him, you turned to look him in the eyes, attempting to reassure him, “Really, I’m ok.”

Sometimes, you wished you weren’t so good at reading boy language, right now you wish Steve would at least try to hide his expressions. Your keen eyes watched as his raked over the black eye, split skin, and discoloration along your jaw.

“You look like hell.” He stated softly, shocked expression evening out into quiet worry. You wished your unladylike snort sounded less bitter.

“There’s that famous vintage charm.” You sarcastically chuckled, trying to hold your head up as you smoothed out the blanket. Steve winced at the sharp wit, apologizing quietly before rephrasing.

“What happened?” He asked, but you just looked away- allowing the two of you to stand in a heavy silence (paired with your funeral black attire) telling him a good bit about what happened to your friend, “I’m sorry, is there anything I can do for you?”

You shook your head, finding the passing clouds outside your window, always amazing how even the worst days can be sunny.

“Have you eaten?” He asked quietly, again you shook your head. Meeting his eyes again, you watched as he nodded, affirming his plan in his mind before speaking it aloud, “Ok, you take a shower and put on something comfortable, I’ll pick something up from that takeout place you like. We’ll eat and then you can get some rest.”

The set of his jaw told you that he wasn’t going to take no for an answer, and you were too tired to argue so you just nodded. He almost seemed relieved when you agreed, happy you were letting him help.

“I’ll be back in a while.”

____________

When he got back, you were toweling off your hair on the couch staring aimlessly at the wall. The pajama shorts and tank top gave him a full scope of your injuries: hand-shaped bruises on your arms, split knuckles, the brace on one of your knees, and bruises in a range of colors all over your legs. If you were looking at him, you would have noticed his tell-tale sign of worry/anger: the combination of a set jaw, furrowed brows, and the squaring of his shoulders. As he set down the brown paper bag of takeout, he took notice of the unopened pharmacy bag labeled with your name and hydrocodone.

“You might not be hungry, but you should eat something. The nice old lady at the counter noticed your usual order and sent some sort of family recipe soup. Told me to tell you to feel better… I think… she wasn’t speaking a lot of English.” The soldier rambled, breathing a sigh of relief when you cracked the smallest smile as you got up and shuffled towards your kitchen table.

Steve retrieved plates and silverware from your cabinets and set them down in front of you before taking the seat across from you. It was almost awkward the way he watched you scoop food onto your plate as if you were going to wither away if he took his eyes off you.

Finally, with you unenthusiastically picking at the stirfry he loaded up his own plate and the two of you ate in silence. Until he nudged the white pharmacy sack towards you. Fork stabbing a piece of broccoli, you raised your eyes to him.

“You should take your medicine. You’ll feel better.” Steve stated. You shook your head.

“I’m not big on narcotics.” You shrugged, “Don’t like how they make me feel.”

“Are you saying they can make you feel worse than you obviously do right now?” He asked sarcastically, and you actually laughed- even if it was a bit of a bitter, dry chuckle.

“Fair point, Rogers.” You conceded, ripping into the packaging and then into the pill bottle-. Setting the powdery white pill next to your drink, you continued, “I’ll take this when I’m done eating, don’t wanna fall sleep in my lo mein.”

Steve smiled, happy that you were at least talking now, and that you were kind of joking. “You want to talk about how you got this beat up?”

You tensed, and began to shake your head- but you caught how he deflated and felt a pang of guilt, “I, uh, got grazed by a sniper first.”

You began tapping the bandage you had rewrapped on your bicep before continuing, “The rest of these were from when we infiltrated Doyle’s warehouse. I told Derek to go ahead and find Emily while I handled Doyle’s henchman. Turns out, I may have bitten off more than I could handle.”

“More than you could.. what do you mean?” His eyebrows furrowed in a somehow scolding confusion. Ducking your head in guilt, you muttered.

“I took on 8 IRA members by myself so Derek could go find…” You cut yourself off, not saying her name. Instead, you watched Steve’s eyes widen as he opened his mouth to scold you before stopping himself.

Instead of the long lecture he had on the tip of his tongue, he settled for a quiet, “That was extremely reckless, don’t do that again."

"Yes sir,” you nodded, taking one last bite of the Chinese food before washing it down with your drink. Gathering the trash, you began to get up to throw things away but Steve beat you to it. Instead, he tossed you a bottle of water and pointed at the white pill still sitting across from you. With a sigh you nodded, placing the bitter pill on your tongue before taking a large swig of water.

Knowing it wouldn’t take long before the drugs kicked in, you swallowed another gulp of water before shuffling to the couch. As you predicted, time seemed to slow down once they kicked in. In about thirty minutes, that little white pill had numbed the sharp pains and throbbing aches throughout your body, replacing them with drowsiness and a pleasant feeling in the back of your head.

You were nodding in and out of sleep when you were woken up to Steve pulling that same baby blue blanket over you, muttering out a quiet and slurred, “ThanksssssTeve.”

“You can go back to sleep now.” He assured you, but was apparently still worried, even your hazy mind could see that as he perched himself on the armchair facing you. You giggled breathily, lidded eyes swaying away from him and settling on yet another picture on the team that sat on your coffee table. Unlike the others, this was a posed shot. The whole team was dressed nicely, standing in front of the restaurant where they had just celebrated Spencer’s 26th birthday. Everyone was smiling, even Hotch.

Steve followed your line of sight, moving closer so he could see the photograph, “That’s a nice picture, when was this taken?"

Pulling out of your memories, you answered slowly, "Couple of years ago, celebrating Spence’s 26th birthday. That’s the whole team, happy.”

The blonde glanced at you smiling softly, and prodded you to continue, hoping talking about happy memories might lull you into a deeper sleep. Sliding to the floor, his back pressed against the base of the couch by your feet, he pressed gently, “Tell me about them?"

You hummed in agreement, one finger fighting through the blanket to point to the farthest right, "That’s Derek Morgan, he’s from Chicago. He’s like an older brother to me. He has a good heart, he’s brave and determined. He’s also hilarious and a total player, and likes to tease Spencer.”

Though your words were slurred, Steve still listened, nodding along as you point to the next person, “Beside him is Garcia, sorry Penelope. She’s our computer analyst so she rarely sees field action. Garcia is honestly the sweetest person alive, she likes to flirt with Derek but he’s more of a game for them than anything serious. She has this crazy fashion sense that works for her…"

You trailed off with a smile before pointing to the next person, "That’s Rossi, he partially invented profiling. ‘was in the FBI in the 80’s but quit to become a writer, but came back. He’s basically the dad of the group. Very sarcastic, very Italian. Has been married 3 times.”

Steve quietly chuckled as your train of thought devolved, going from relevant information to random facts as your mind became hazier.

“Next is,” you paused for a yawn, “oh. me. You know me. Then there’s Spencer- sorry, Dr. Reid. He’s the youngest, but also had 4 P.hd’s at 23. He might have gotten another one, who knows at this point. He’s a super-genius, can read something like 20,000 words per minute, which is completely excessive. But he’s also just super awkward and sweet- he writes letters to his mom every day.”

Steve watched as you stopped looking at the picture, “Let’s see, then there’s JJ, who’s your classic mom friend. She had to quit the FBI, but now she’s working at the pentagon. She’s so nice, but also a badass. And she has the cutest kid, Henry. Spencer and Penelope are his godparents.”

“Then, there’s Hotch who’s pretty much our boss. Sometimes I think he’s definitely not human- the man can turn off his emotions. He’s actually part of the reason I’m at SHIELD. But he’s a good man, he always makes the right calls and keeps us in line. He’s a good leader and he’s got a son named Jack- the one I babysit every now and then?”

Steve watched as you slipped your eyes closed, “And then there was Emily. Crazy smart, an amazing profiler, total badass, hilarious. Honestly, one of the best friends you could ask for. She always had my back, and this cat named Sergio- I wonder what’s going to happen to him.”

You went quiet for a while, causing Steve to think you’d finally fallen asleep, but instead, you were just staring at the ceiling, “I went to her funeral today, Steve. The mission failed, we didn’t save her.”

“(Y/N), yo-” He started softly, not wanting you to get worked up, but you cut him off.

“We got there too late, and I let Doyle get away. I had the shot and I didn’t take it.” You admitted in a shameful whisper, eyes trained on the ceiling as a singular tear escaped the corner of your eye. “Prentiss died, and I let her killer get away."

Steve knew this pain, the loss and anger at yourself for not doing the impossible. It was a terrible pain; he’d felt it when Bucky died. Your hand had gone limp, and in an attempt to comfort you, he laced his fingers through yours, thumb brushing your split knuckles. If you noticed this, you didn’t say anything.

"He smiled at me, Steve.” Your already quiet voice broke, “Smiled like he knew he was going to get away with it. And he did.”

Knowing there wasn’t any stopping this spiral, he quietly shushed you. Hoping you’d go back to sleep, there was no point in trying to give real comfort or advice to you in this state. But you quieted, eyes closing and breathing evening out. A minute of silence went by, the only noise was you instinctively curling into a more comfortable position.

“I should have taken the shot, Steve.” Was the last thing you murmured as you succumbed to sleep. Steve frowned deeply, wishing there was something he could do to help. He’d always been a fixer, a helper- even before being Captain America. You’d been an excellent friend, going beyond “orders” to help him, and now he could only sit there as you were hurting. You sniffed again, eyes leaving the ceiling and falling to his, “I should have taken the damn shot.”

Fifteen minutes later, you had slipped into a deeper sleep. It had taken a while, but your ramblings turned to indiscernible mutterings and finally quiet snores. Steve stayed on the floor, staring at the picture until he was sure you would wake up. Then, he scooped you up in his arms almost effortlessly and carried to your bedroom- one of the very few times he’d actually been back there. Finally, he settled down on your couch, googled hydrocodone, saw the wrong side of WebMD, and decided it’d be best for him to sleep on your couch. He didn’t know how else to help, but he’d try his best.

_______________

The next day, you’d woken up at 11 AM to find Steve still patiently waiting for you to wake up. And despite your still aching body, you valiantly argued that he had better things to do, and promptly kicked him out to make him go on his run. He hesitantly left after making you promise to take care of yourself, and you didn’t miss any of his worried stares as he walked out.

At around 1 PM, you responded to a knock on your door as you changed the bandages on your bicep. You swung open the door, fully expecting it to be Steve back to worry about you.

“You look like shit.”

Was not what you were expecting to hear, and you definitely weren’t expecting to see Natasha standing in your doorway with Clint (badly disguised in a pair of sunglasses) behind her.

“Thanks, Barton.” You drawled sarcastically as he shouldered past the redhead and yourself to infiltrate your kitchen. You watched as he went before turning back to Natasha for an explanation.

“He’s right you look terrible.” She nodded, “If you don’t let me in, Clint’s going to eat all your food.”

Wordlessly, you motioned her in just in time to find Clint with cold lo mein dangling out of his mouth. Natasha gave him a pointed look to which he responded with a defensive (and noodle muffled), “What?”

The spy sighed, turning back to you, “We heard what happened to your friend, and wanted to make sure you were…”

Natasha trailed off, knowing “okay” was the wrong word. You also knew the “we” definitely meant that she forced Clint to come, but you still appreciated the notion. You gave her a tight-lipped sympathetic smile. Motioning over your rather extensive physical injuries, you tried to joke to lighten the heavy atmosphere of your apartment.

“Well, if it hadn’t of been for your training, this could have a lot worse.” You smiled, leaning against the back of the couch as her emerald green eyes analyzed everything down to the brand of knee brace you were wearing. She crossed your living room and undid your bandages.

“These are too loose, you’ll get an infection.” She offhandedly remarked, easily undoing the gauze and rewrapping them tighter like an expert. You quietly thanked her as she tied them off. “I guess weekly sparring is postponed for a while.”

“Sorry, you’ll have to wait 3 to 5 weeks to kick my ass.”

She laughed at this, “I’ll just have to settle with kicking his ass.”

As she said that, Clint looked up from his your Chow Fun with furrowed eyebrows. You genuinely laughed as the archer tried to defend himself. From there, it was mostly easy conversation between you and Nat with occasional chiming from Clint. The company was nice, and you didn’t even mind as the conversation turned to more serious topics. You had suspected it would, so you just willingly recounted the tale, yet again.

“And then he just smiled at me. And when the train passed he was gone. I should have taken the shot.” You finished lamely, blocking any emotion from your voice. After extensive debriefings, the funeral, and Steve, it was becoming easier to tell the story. Clint had finally stopped eating,

“He won’t get far. He has the FBI, CIA, Interpol, and SHIELD on his tale.” The archer tried to comfort you. The sentiment was nice, but you knew it was more of an empty promise. Doyle had evaded the government for years, and likely would for years to come.

Both Clint and Natasha’s phone buzzed after a bit of silence, and you knew it as the universal sound of “we gotta go”. They both quickly stood, walking towards the door. Clint was already in the hallway, instinctively doing a sweep for any enemies. Natasha turned back to you, “I’ll spare you the ass-kicking but don’t think you’re getting out of dinner.”

“Yes, ma’am.” You smiled, holding the door open for her as she left. Suddenly, a flash of uncertainty ran across her face- which you didn’t miss. It was quite uncharacteristic for her, but you soon understood when she rushed forward to hug you- something she had never done before. Over her shoulder, even Clint looked surprised. After the initial shock, you relaxed into the embrace and hugged her back.

But as soon as it came, it was gone and the too master assassins were down the hall and gone. As they left, you did feel lighter. The pain of losing a friend and guilt over not bringing Doyle was still fresh after four days, but the searing anger and sadness were morphing into more of a dull ache in your heart.

Now reading 4 pm, you were sure Steve would return soon to check on you and looking back into your empty apartment- you decided you could use some “fresh” city air. So after slipping into real pants and a warmer shirt, you threw your jacket on and grabbed your headphones. Then you were off.

You weren’t sure where you were headed or when you’d get back, so you just let your wandering mind translate to your feet. The sun was beginning to go down when you found yourself in a suedo-familiar part of town. Looking up to a familiar building, your eyes found the prior apartment of Emily Prentiss. That familiar feeling flared back up in your stomach, but you suppressed it- allowing yourself a moment before continuing your walk.

With the sun’s retreat, it became progressively colder but you didn’t let it bother you as you continued. Allowing yourself to zone out, you, once again, let yourself wander aimlessly amongst other pedestrians walking home from work. You’re phone buzzed, bringing back to the present. Trying to stay out of the way, you found a bench to sit on so you could fish your phone out and look at the multiple texts, all from Steve.

Steve: Went by your house.

Steve: You weren’t there

Steve: Everything ok?

You quickly texted him back to appease his worries, knowing he was probably assuming the worst. Truly you regretted telling him about all the serial killers, stalkers, and rapists you had put away- that and introducing him to dateline tv. Like any other 90-year-old, he was now overly paranoid. Slipping your phone back into your pocket, you looked back up, people-watching as you enjoyed the chilly breeze.

Almost instinctively, you squinted down an alleyway- where two tall and lanky figures were shuffling between themselves. Your mind went through a hundred different possibilities- drug deal, prostitution, mugging, murder, assault… Lips setting in a fine line, you watched the interaction. Their silhouettes gave more information than one would think, and even though you weren’t on duty- you couldn’t just watch if someone was getting hurt.

Finally, you determined that whatever was happening wasn’t hostile enough for you to intervene as they parted ways- until the second figure stepped back into the busy street. Your heart froze, bathed in the yellowish-orange street lights and setting city sun was a rather haggard looking Spencer Reid, shoving a suspiciously unsuspicious crumpled up sack into his jacket pocket.

Frowning, you ran through every situation you could to make this not seem bad. With a snap decision, you were after him- zipping across the street and speed walking to catch up with him. Weaving through the other pedestrians, you finally caught up with him.

“Spence!” You called softly, gently tugging the elbow of his coat to slow him down. He visibly tensed, halting in his tracks, and eyes widening as he turned around to see you worriedly looking up at him.

“(Y-Y/N) w-what are you… where are… wh-why are….” He stammered, and you could see the wheels and excuses churning in his head.

“I just needed some air.” You explained, eyes on the poked out edges of the sack in his pocket. He quickly shoved it out of sight, causing you to purse your lips.

“What did yo-… did you-… how long did…” He awkwardly stuttered. Sighing, you took his hand out of his pocket.

“If you’re asking what/ if I saw. I’m hoping I didn’t see what I think I saw.” You softly scolded, trained eyes looking for anything to tell if you were too late. His eyes were alert, albeit red and puffy- which paired with his red and runny nose. His hair was messy and greasy, and his clothes were wrinkled- as if slept it. Unable to hold your gaze, he looked away guiltily. You pressed your lips into a fine line, hoping you weren’t too late.

“Spence…” You trailed off softly, hoping he didn’t mistake your sorrow for judgment, “Please tell me you didn’t…”

He was quick to answer you this time, voice quiet- ashamed, “N-not, not yet.”

There was a flash of relief, and almost instinctively, you threw yourself on the young genius. Normally, Spencer wasn’t much for physical affection, but for once, he practically melted into the embrace. He buried his face in your hair and balled his fists into the fabric on the back of your jacket. Pedestrian traffic hustled around the two of you, but you ignored them in favor of focussing on Spencer’s shuddering breath as he tried not to cry. You were soothingly patting his back, wishing JJ was here- she always knew how to comfort him, and right now you were just trying not to make things worse.

“Let’s go somewhere.” You quietly suggested.

_____

After five minutes of walking, the two of you shuffled up to Spencer’s door. You were watching him jiggle the key in the lock as you thought of how to help. The walk back had been mostly silent after you’d disposed of the Dilaudid he’d obtained. Once inside, he shrugged off his coat and hung in on the rack, which you did the same. And since his apartment was -as per usual- weirdly warm (Spencer had always run colder than most) you went ahead and shed your sweatshirt as well. You didn’t miss the change in the air, feeling Spencer’s concerned look just as you had felt Derek’s, Steve’s, and Natasha’s.

“They look worse than they feel.” You shrugged, hoping to avoid the conversation altogether. Spencer didn’t look convinced.

“As a very smart friend of mine once said, ‘You wanna lie more convincingly, or go ahead and tell me the truth’?” He asked, one eyebrow quirked. You sighed, recognizing your own words.

“I hate it when I’m right.” You muttered before truly answering him, “My ribs and my knee still hurt the worst, and the cuts are healing but still sting every now and then. I’m managing.”

Appeased with your honesty, he moved to the kitchen spouting off facts about knee and leg injuries as he went. Over his voice, you could hear him making coffee at nearly 7:30pm. He returned with a fresh cup of coffee in a mug printed with a physics joke on it and handed it to you, “I did a lot of research after I got shot in the leg.”

“I remember.” You smiled, thinking back to when Hotch basically had you babysit him to make sure he was following a doctor’s (medical doctor, you had to clarify) orders until he was cleared again. Then, there was a pause of comfortable silence while the two of you sipped your drinks. You knew you had to break the silence and bring it up.

Setting the mug down on a coaster that sat atop a stack of well-worn hardbacks, you took a deep breath, “Why tonight, Spence?”

Immediately, he tensed, the doctor frowning as he anxiously drummed his fingers on the side of his mug. His mouth opened and closed a few times as if he couldn’t get his words right before finally, he confessed, “I know we all miss Prentiss, but I just… I ju-. I just miss her so badly, (Y/N). I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye.”

Your expression faded into understanding sympathy as he collected himself before continuing, “And I know Emily wouldn’t want this, and I know I could lose my job, and I know I’m nearly 4 years clean. Believe me, I know these things, I’ve run through so many possibilities and reasons why I shouldn’t… But, it just hurts, and I didn’t know how to make it stop. I just want to stop hurting, even for a little while.”

As he finished, his hazel eyes lifted to you- almost as if begging for a solution to his pain. You wished you had one for him. “It’s going to take some time, Spence. And you’re right, it hurts. But you’re not alone. Have you tried talking about it with anyone- Morgan or JJ?”

You paused, “JJ helped you a lot when you first got clean, right?”

“I tried, but I got desperate. JJ’s not answering her phone, and I’ve got to her house for the past three days. Hotch finally told me that she got called away on Pentagon business, something urgent. I didn’t want to bother Will, and didn’t want Henry to see me like this.” He explained. Something about that didn’t sit right with you, but you brushed it off and let him finish, “And no one’s heard from Derek since the funeral.”

You took a deep breath, collecting your thoughts, “Well, the important things are: 1.) You’re still clean, we got rid of the supply, 2.) You’re right, Emily wouldn’t want this, and 3.) You’ve got me, and no matter the assignment, hour, whatever, if you need me, you call me. I’ll answer.”

You finished your promise with an assuring smile, watching as Spencer returned it with a characteristically awkward smile back as he nodded. Deciding it would be best not to dwell on the sad stuff, you force a brilliant smile, “Now! when was the last time you ate? I’m thinking… Indian Takeout?”

Though he already knew your strategy, he went along, chuckling, “You hate the Indian place here.”

You scoffed, mocking offense (though he was right) as you went the binder by the fridge where he stored his takeout menus, “Since when?”

Spencer snatched the binder away, protective of his meticulous organizational method (first by cuisine type, then by alphabetical order, with a color-coding system for price range, and a special sticker for delivery options), as he teased “Since you are it before going out with Garcia and JJ. And learned that Indian doesn’t pair well with ½ priced Margaritas.”

“…Right… well, I can eat rice.” You shrugged, pretending to be indifferent, but really you were just happy he was smiling again. “And for the record, at that point, nothing would have paired well with ½ priced Margs.”

_____

The next morning, you woke up on Spencer’s couch. The TV was off, which was confusing since you fell asleep to Spencer correcting the physics of Star Wars. Slowly waking up, you winced at how stiff and sore you felt, rubbing absentmindedly at your ribs. Couch + no medicine = no bueno. With a little focus, you could hear Spencer shuffling about in his bedroom. You tried for your phone, wondering how long you had slept for. Dead. So with no concept of time, you slowly sat up and allowed your sleepy mind to acclimate.

“Oh, morning.” Spencer chirped as he moved past the living room to access the kitchen for what was probably his second cup of coffee. Then he breezed back by you to collect his iconic leather messenger bag, “I would have let you have the bed, but I fell asleep in the chair.”

You waved him off before he could apologize. Trying to clear the sleep out of your voice, you quietly croaked the question, “What time is it?”

Spencer checked his watch, “7:23 AM, Hotch wants the team there ASAP, time-sensitive case, probably. “

He answered as you stepped into your shoes and weaseled into your sweatshirt. You yawned as he finished packing his messenger bag and then stood. Pulling on your coat, you announced, “Well, I suppose I’ll get out of your hair. Call me if you need me.”

You were about to close the door behind you when his voice caught your attention, “I’m glad you were there. The chances of us being in the same place at the same time and noticing each other are astronomically, exponentially low. But I’m glad you were there.”

You cut him off before he could thank you again, with a smile you nodded, “I am too, Spence. Be careful on your case.”

__________

Still troubled from the previous evening, you spent the walk home mostly thinking of ways to check in on Spencer- but also annoyed by how far you walked the previous night. You must have walked for three hours that night, rambling in odd patterns, because it took a full hour to walk back to your apartment. (It would have been much shorter if you hadn’t of left your public transport card at home).

Finally, at 8:30 AM, you stumbled into your apartment. After putting your dead phone on the charger, you popped some extra-strength ibuprofen and took a hot shower-which worked wonders on the sore parts of your body. Finally, as you got dressed, you fielded the dozens of texts and emails that you missed.

“Guess I’m popular this morning.” You muttered, running a towel over your hair as you read and responded to Steve’s worried messages. Then you answered Penelope’s questions about if you heard from Spencer, Derek, or JJ and if you were ok. Finally, you flipped through your emails and with a deep sigh opened one from Phil Coulson.

The subject line read, “Work to do.”

You skimmed all the attached documents, most of which were extremely redacted. From what you gathered there was a satellite crash in the deserts of New Mexico and for some reason, SHIELD was tasked with handling it. Fury had decided to send you with Coulson and Agent Barton for an undetermined length of time in the desert. Great. And you were leaving later that very afternoon. Even better.

After a quick google about the weather in New Mexico in early April, you threw together yet another go-bag. You hadn’t even unpacked the one from Boston, it sat like a hollow corpse by your closet- picked through for things you needed but left full of bloodied clothes and now irrelevant files. You stared at the bag for a moment before snapping out of the daze of painful memories and moving on to grab a fresh bag out of the hall closet. Making quick work of it, you packed both professional and comfortable clothes.

At 10 AM, you dropped the packed duffel bag by the door. As you turned away from the door you began running numbers on your schedule- it was 10 AM you had to be SHIELD headquarters at 3pm… Your thoughts were interrupted by a strong telltale knock on the door. With a sigh, you turned back around and opened the door.

Unsurprisingly, Steve stood in the doorway- wide-eyed at how fast the door had opened. Smiling, you ushered him in, closing the door behind him before moving past him and into the kitchen. You hadn’t eaten anything but white rice in the last 24 hours, and you were quite hungry.

“I didn’t know if you’d be home. Is your friend alright?” He started, following you into the apartment. You knew the underlying question wasn’t actually about Spencer, but you ignored his worry.

“Crisis averted. Sorry for going MIA, I fell asleep on his couch and my phone died.” You explained over your shoulder as you rummaged through your fridge. You frowned at the empty Chinese containers left in there, muttering a quiet, “Dammnit, Clint.”

Emerging with sandwich fixings, you presented them to him with a quirked eyebrow. He simply shook his head, so you went about making yourself a rather pathetic look meal.

“Did Fury tell you?” Steve broke the silence with a rather ominous question. You didn’t look up but furrowed your brow.

“Fury doesn’t tell me much, so probably not. Did Fury tell me what?” You questioned back, returning a few items to the fridge.

“I’ve been cleared to take physical evaluations and receive modulated training sequences from SHIELDl.” He explained, blue eyes watching your crouched figure. You were glad the refrigerator door was blocking your face- You hadn’t told the Director anything of the sort. Could be why he was sending you out to the desert, to distract you. Impatient Asshole. After your inner thoughts evened out, you wiped the surprise off your face and smiled at the soldier.

“No, he didn’t. But that’s good, you don’t have to sit around here bored all the time. I haven’t been the best tour guide lately.” You shrugged. The soldier hummed in response.

“As much as I appreciate your help, it will be nice to have something to do.” He admitted, always careful not to offend. You nodded back to him, taking a rather unladylike bite of your meager brunch. “I saw your bag by the door, you going somewhere?”

“Oh, yeah, I’m being assigned to New Mexico- super boring, middle of the desert. Something about a satellite crash.” You told him, shrugging. You were expressly stoked for the assignment, figuring it was mostly a distraction to keep you from 1.) Yelling at Director Fury for not listening, and 2.) Going after Doyle yourself, which you had already considered.

Steve nodded for a moment, before his face knitted into confusion, “Why do they need a profiler at a satellite crash?”

Your own eyebrows furrowed, you hadn’t thought about that. There were a dozen different assignments that they could task you with. Why this, what were you missing?

“You know, Rogers, that’s a good question.”

_______________

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spaceskam · 5 years ago

Text

In The Mood For Love

for day 5 of @alterarnm : movie fusion!

ao3

Maybe Alex was foolish to trust him.

David was nice and kind when they married and Alex loved him. He loved having a husband, someone to curl up to at the end of the night, someone to kiss, someone to take care of and to be taken care of by. He didn’t even mind that Alex had lost his leg not long after their wedding. Of course, like any marriage, the honeymoon phase wore off and now, two years later, it felt like he’d downgraded from husband to roommate. David worked long shifts, sometimes even going on business trips and leaving Alex alone for days.

Alex’s loneliness rose when they moved into their new apartment. He’d seen their next-door neighbors: a husband and wife, both beautiful in their own way. The wife looked familiar somehow, but Alex never pressed because it wasn’t his business. However, he noticed that the wife was gone often as well. He almost felt sorry for her husband until he realized he was in the same position.

They passed each other nearly every night, Alex and her husband, as they crossed paths to fetch dinner at the market a block away. Most times, he was on his way home as Alex was on his way there and he would already be shoveling noodles into his mouth like he couldn’t wait. It made him smile on days that he struggled to find something to smile about.

After a week of near-isolation since Alex worked at home, he left a little earlier for dinner. The next day, he left a little earlier than that. Then a little earlier, a little earlier, a little earlier until he walked out of his apartment at the same time as the husband. They shared polite smiles and walked the same path, Alex always staying a few feet behind him. They didn’t speak, but it gave him a little more solace to know he wasn’t alone.

They did that every day for the next week until the husband didn’t come for a few days. He never even learned his name.

“I missed you,” Alex said, grabbing David in a hug when he got home from his business trip. He’d offered to pick him up from the airport, but the offer had been declined on the account that David wanted to relax before he got home. Yet, he still didn’t seem relaxed.

“Give me a moment, will you? I’ll see you in bed,” David promised him, peeling him off as he went to the bathroom for a bathroom.

David got in on the other side of the bed and didn’t touch him once.

Michael assumed it was common.

As newlyweds, they needed space so they didn’t get tired of each other too fast. Caroline always came home to him, so there was no harm. Well, until she didn’t always come home. She started needing to go on business trips with her employer, halfheartedly explaining that, as an assistant, she was needed. It got worse when she insisted they move into a new apartment.

Michael moved all of the furniture himself and he decorated the apartment himself. Caroline was home less and less and he began wondering if she’d notice if he messed with things. Each week, he’d move something from its place and wait until she noticed. She never did.

Still, Michael survived. He was a florist and he kept himself busy at work, enjoying the excited faces of young boys getting bouquets for their first girlfriends and rolling his eyes as the panicked husbands who’d done wrong and needed a gift. He’d bring Caroline flowers often, but he eventually stopped when she was rarely home to receive them. But it was okay. It was hard to allow himself to feel lonely when he was around people all day.

The moment he noticed that the word to describe his feelings was indeed loneliness was when he began walking to the market with his neighbor. They never spoke or shared names, but their silent walk had begun to be one of Michael’s favorite parts of the day. Which made him feel guilty.

When Caroline had first begun dating him and she discovered he was bisexual, she’d been so hesitant. She told him that she couldn’t trust him to be faithful, but he promised that he was. He always was. He assured her every time she accused him that he was faithful to her forever. She had full access to his phone, to his social media, to his computer to check whenever she got scared every week or so. He even married her to prove his loyalty. Walking and having dinner with the man next door felt like he was lying, like he was too close to being unfaithful. That man was beautiful, but he refused to hurt her. So he decided to stop walking with him.

“Let me check your phone,” Caroline demanded when he went to greet her after she got home from her business trip. He didn’t even get a hug in before she asked. He’d offered to pick her up from the airport, but she said her employer already got her a car and she didn’t want to mess up the plans.

“I haven’t done anything this week, but okay,” Michael agreed, handing it over, “I’ve missed you so much.”

She walked away with his phone in her hand without saying anything back.

Alex’s suspicions started when he tried to hug David from behind and he tilted his phone out of his line of view.

“Why are you hiding your phone?” Alex laughed, trying to kiss his cheek. David shrugged him off and got up to leave the room. Alex decided not to follow him. He was too scared to follow him.

He sat and pondered for a while. Had he done something wrong? Was David angry at him? The longer he thought about, the more he felt like that had to be the case. Maybe he wasn’t trying hard enough. So he followed him into the bedroom.

“Are you mad at me?” Alex asked, “Did I forget something?”

“I’m not mad at you, Alex,” David sighed, looking at him with bored eyes. It was frustrating to see that and it hurt him in a place that he didn’t realize just a look could. Someone who used to look at him with love just… wasn’t anymore. He swallowed hard. “I just need my privacy.”

“All you have is privacy!” Alex argued, “You-you don’t even touch me anymore. Either you’re mad at me or you think I’m ugly or something! What did I do to make you not want me?”

“You want me to touch you? Then come here,” David demanded. Alex blinked in surprise, but slowly made his way closer to David. He wasn’t really in the mood to do anything physical after feeling so rejected, but he would take it when he didn’t want it if it meant he got something at all. David grabbed his hand and pulled him down, giving him a kiss that didn’t last. “There.”

“That’s it?” Alex asked. David scoffed.

“What do you want from me? I work all damn day to provide for you, but you can’t even appreciate that. I don’t have the time to just fuck you all day,” David said. Alex took a step away from him, trying not to feel to angry.

“I’m not asking you to. I’m asking you to love me,” Alex almost pleaded, “Please just love me.”

David stared at him, angry and maybe even a little guilty. But he simply stared and Alex didn’t know if he was supposed to say something or not. He didn’t know what he was supposed to do after this.

“Are you cheating on me?” Alex asked softly, voice breaking. David scoffed and stood up. “Are you?”

“I can’t believe you’d even ask me that,” he spat, pushing past Alex and storming into the bathroom with his phone in tow.

Maybe he got a little paranoid after that.

Alex paid more attention to things. Their bank account, the amount of time David was on his phone, how he smelled when he came home after late nights or business trips, the new checkered blue tie he got from a coworker that he’d always insisted before wasn’t his style. He noticed that some things correlated too much with his neighbor’s wife next door. One night, a little curious as to why a few hundred dollars came from their bank account in the middle of the afternoon, Alex called his office. His assistant answered.

And wouldn’t you know that voice was the same one he heard when he called David in the middle of the night when he was on his “business trip”.

“Where’d this come from?”

Michael stared at the really expensive bag that was in his wife’s closet. He knew they didn’t have the money for that kind of thing. Any time they spent more than $50 on something, it was something they spoke about beforehand. It’s how they paid their bills.

“What are you doing in my closet?” Caroline demanded instead, anger laced in her tone, “Don’t go through my things, what is wrong with you?!”

“I-I wasn’t, I was trying to find my shirt, it wasn’t in my stuff,” Michael explained, letting her grab him by the bicep and drag him out of the closet like he was a child. He tried to be gentle as he pulled away. “Where’d that bag come from, Caroline? That bag is hundreds of dollars.”

“My employer gave it to me,” she said stubbornly. Michael furrowed his eyebrows and scoffed.

“Why the hell would he do that?” he asked. Caroline rolled her eyes and shook her head.

“I’m not going to explain to you what it means to be good to your workers.”

“No, I know what that is, but usually that’s, like, a cash bonus. That’s a personal gift,” Michael pointed out. Caroline scoffed and crossed her arms over her chest.

“What are you trying to say, Michael?” she asked. He blinked a few times and he tried to make sense of why her boss would get her a personal gift. The first idea that popped into his head felt like a lie. There was no way she would cheat on him. She was always so scared he would cheat, so he knew she would never. Right?

“Is he creepy or something?” Michael asked because that seemed like the next step. Caroline scoffed.

“No! David is a good boss, you just don’t get it. Now stop going through my shit.”

Michael needed to clear his head and try to make sense of it, so he excused himself to go to the market. As he exited his apartment, he noticed his neighbor doing the same. He looked a little rumpled and sad, but he gave Michael a smile nonetheless.

“Are you alright?” Michael asked him, unable to stop himself. His neighbor looked like he’d been crying and, well, they were sort of friends. They’d never spoken, but still.

His neighbor sniffled just a little and nodded. “Yeah, it’s just been a long day. Need comfort food.”

“Same,” Michael sighed. They stared at each other for a moment and Michael realized that it didn’t have to be close to cheating. He could just have a friend. “Hey, do you want to go together? Just, like, as friends, I mean. Nothing creepy.”

“Um,” his neighbor said, looking around before nodding, “Okay.”

“I’m Michael, by the way.”

“Alex.”

They walked side by side this time, stepping in time on purpose until Alex noticed and smiled. It was charming and Michael couldn’t deny that.

“So,” he said, speaking when he realized Alex wasn’t going to, “What’s your husband’s name?”

“Oh, um, David,” Alex said, nodding slightly. Michael watched as he looked up and blinked a bit. Something hit him in the chest at that moment and it felt a little too obvious, a little too easy. Life was never that easy.

“What’s he do for a living?” Michael asked. Alex tugged his sleeves over his palms.

“Manages a marketing branch or something. Not too educated on what he does,” he said, forcing a lighthearted laugh.

When they got to the market, Michael held the door open and Alex gave him a smile. They walked together in silence again, never really parting as Alex got his salad from a vegan stand and Michael got his ramen from the ramen stand. For the first time, they sat down together.

“So,” Alex started this time, “That bag I saw your wife with the other day… Where’d she get it?”

Michael eyed him. He took a small bite of his salad, trying to seem nonchalant as he did so. It was hard to tell if he knew what he was asking, so Michael tried to play along.

“Why, do you want to get one for yourself?” Michael asked. Alex smiled almost to himself and shrugged his shoulder, looking up at Michael through his eyelashes.

“Maybe.”

“Well, I’d have to ask her since her boss got it for her,” Michael said. Alex simply nodded. “But… That reminds me of that tie I saw your husband wearing when he left for work the other morning, the blue checkered one. Do you know where he got it? My wife likes ties like that.”

Alex licked his lips and sighed, leaning back in his chair.

“Not sure, he got it from a coworker,” he said. They locked eyes, both unable to give a smile either way. They both knew. Michael just didn’t want to really believe it. But a man named David wearing a tie so similar to the one she’d forced him to wear at their wedding who happened to work at a marketing company? He didn’t believe in coincidences. Alex tilted his head a bit. “They must think we’re so stupid.”

“What exactly are you getting at?” Michael asked. Alex’s smile was rueful.

“I believe you know.”

Michael dropped his fork with a sigh.

Again, they stared at each other for a few minutes, trying to decide what happens from here. How exactly was one supposed to handle discovering the person they loved was cheating on them with their neighbor? Did the affair start before they moved into the apartment? Was that why she was so set on moving there?

Without more discussion, they both picked up their forks and finished their meals in silence. They walked home together in silence. It was a strange sense of camaraderie with a man he didn’t know very well at all. Hell, they had nothing in common. Except their spouses.

“Goodnight, Michael,” Alex said as they got to their doors.

“Goodnight, Alex.”

They both went inside to face these people who betrayed them. Michael wasn’t sure what Alex’s plan was, but he kept his ears trained for any sign of yelling. It never came.

Caroline was in the shower when he got home and he quickly got into bed. He needed to think more before he approached her about it. He had no evidence, not really. He just couldn’t seem to think of a valid reason otherwise. Even if he didn’t understand why she always thought he was cheating when she was the real culprit.

She got into bed and shuffled around a bit.

“Are you not going to tell me goodnight?” she asked after he didn’t speak. Michael breathed a heavy breath of submission.

“Night.”

Alex walked beside Michael to the market the next evening.

“How do you think it began?”

“I’m not sure.”

Alex got his salad and Michael got his ramen and they sat at the same table as yesterday. They took bites in silence, casually glancing at each other as they tried to understand. What was so bad about them that they didn’t deserve the respect of being told it was over?

Alex stopped halfway through his meal, placing his fork down and straightening his posture.

“Do you have those papers I asked for?” he said. Michael looked up at him, green eyes wide and curious and noodles pooling out of his mouth. He seemed to understand and he swallowed his bite, clearing his throat as he sat up straight as well. Only, he leaned forward, mimicking a way someone might sit if they wanted attention on their breasts rather than their face.

“Of course,” he said, “I hope they’re up to your standard.”

“They’re always up to my standard when they’re from you.”

“No,” Michael intercepted, “She wouldn’t fall for that.”

“Okay,” Alex said, readjusting in his seat and clasping his hands in front of him, “Why don’t you show me privately?”

“Well, I’d have to tell my husband I’m staying late,” Michael answered.

“Please do. We have a lot of work to take care of.”

Michael stared at him for a moment before he scrunched up his nose, shrugging his shoulders.

“I don’t know, that sounds so forced,” he said. Alex nodded.

“You’re right. That couldn’t be it.”

“And how would you feel about coming on a business trip with me? I need your assistance.”

Michael let out a wistful sigh, batting his eyelashes Alex’s way as they took the long way to the market. Alex smiled in a way that felt more slimy than he actually was, trying his best to capture the true form of his husband.

“Oh? And what would my benefits be for that?” Michael asked.

“You know I’d take care of you,” Alex told him.

“In what ways?”

“No, he’s not explicit like that,” Alex cut in. Michael nodded and they paused their steps to backtrack their scene.

“Well, you make it sound so convincing,” Michael corrected. Alex walked with an uncharacteristic swagger.

“So you’ll come then?”

“Would my room be close to yours?”

“Absolutely,” Alex confirmed. Michael smiled.

“Then gladly.” They walked a few steps more, falling out of character as they did so. When Michael looked over at him, he was holding back a laugh. “What?”

“It just feels so cliche, you know? That it’d be before a business trip. I feel like even they aren’t that cliche,” Alex explained. Michael shrugged with a smile.

“Yeah, you’re right. It had to be some other way.”

Alex turned to him with a look in his eye as he schooled his features. Michael tried to get back into character as well as Alex tilted his head back just a little.

“I’m bored. Take off your clothes.”

Michael couldn’t keep it together at that, laughter bubbling out of him to the point he bent over. Alex laughed with him helplessly.

“How did you keep a straight face when you said that?!” Michael asked, looking to Alex with unashamed wonder, “Where did that even come from? Oh my god, dude.”

Alex snorted, shaking his head at him. “From some show, I don’t know. What, you don’t think that’s possibly what happened?”

“Not a chance.”

Michael bought his salad that evening.

“My husband’s bisexual. Forgive me for being so blunt, but he doesn’t always answer my questions.”

Alex watched as Michael stirred his tea with his finger and then sucked it off. He’d gotten frustrated with work and decided meeting up with Michael for a lunch break sounded good. He was correct.

“That’s a shame. I’m an open book,” Alex said in a low tone, channeling his inner David. It came easy when you knew a man for six years, one of which was entirely the seduction part. Alex was nothing if not stubborn. “Ask me what you want.”

“Do you really enjoy being with women? Or was that just what held you over until you found a man so you could be gay?” Michael asked. Alex could tell that question haunted him, something that he was probably asked more than once. He moved closer to the edge of his seat.

“I love being with women,” Alex said, the words foreign in his mouth, “It’s all soft skin and curves. I miss it sometimes. There are just some things my husband can’t provide.”

Michael sighed, elongating his neck and dragging his fingertips across it as he pushed his hair back. Alex watched each movement before going back to his eyes.

“What else do you miss about being with women?” Michael asked.

“I’m afraid all of my answers might be inappropriate.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.”

Things got a little too real as Michael’s foot dragged up Alex’s metal leg. Realization hit his eyes, but he never reacted and he never broke character. So Alex didn’t either, accepting the way Michael switched to his foot being between his legs to drag up the one he could actually feel. Alex ignored the way his heart raced.

“Tell me what you miss.”

“Strong thighs,” Alex said, leaning forward just a bit, “Long hair. Boobs.”

And somehow that got him to break character, a perfectly Michael smile breaking out onto his lips as a tiny giggle fell from him and his foot broke contact. Alex smiled back, letting his shoulders fall.

“What?” he asked.

“Boobs,” Michael repeated, laughing a little harder. Alex threw his arms out in defense.

“Listen, I’ve never had to flirt with a woman before, I don’t know what I’m supposed to call them,” Alex laughed. Michael shook his head, trying to dial back his amusement. But his amusement was honestly just too cute and Alex couldn’t help but soak it up while it lasted. It was in these moments that he didn’t feel so alone.

“Well, personally, I don’t call them anything when I’m trying to seduce someone because I don’t think there is a sexy word for them,” Michael defended. Alex scoffed.

“C’mon, there has to be one because erotica novels exist, right?” Alex pointed out, “Breasts? Tits? Fuckin’... chest balls?”

“What?” Michael demanded, his voice raising a few pitches before he threw his head back in laughter and he held his stomach. A few people looked over at them in curiosity, but Alex’s eyes stayed on him.

“I don’t know!”

“You are so lucky you’re gay, man,” Michael said, slowly but surely dialling down his laughter. Alex watched him with a smile as he did so.

“Hey,” Alex started once he calmed down, “So, you know how I write for a queer magazine, right? Well, what’d’you say about working with me about how it is to be a bisexual man when it’s still a struggle?”

“You wanna interview me?” Michael asked. Alex nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. Michael shrugged.

“Okay, sounds good.”

They decided the least suspicious way to carry out the interview would be in a motel room. They couldn’t do it at either one of their apartments because if their spouses found out, it’d be quite obvious that they knew about what was going on between them. They weren’t quite ready for that yet. Hell, they didn’t even understand that yet. Even if months had passed since they realized.

But the unforeseen problem came when their agreed upon day rolled around and Alex’s stump was too swollen to fit into his prosthetic. He was sore and frustrated, but they agreed. So Alex got his crutches and slowly made his way to his car, ignoring the throbbing.

Michael was waiting outside of the motel room for him, but he couldn’t help but meet him halfway when he saw he was on crutches.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Alex gave him a tired smile.

“Yeah, just, um, just a bad leg day,” Alex explained. Michael gave an exaggerated frown.

“Well, is there anything I can do?” he wondered. Alex shook his head.

“Not really. Can you get my laptop though, please?” Alex asked. Michael agreed without hesitance.

A few minutes later, they found themselves sitting on opposite sides of a queen sized bed. Alex was sitting with his laptop propped on his lap, mindlessly rubbing at his stump as he asked questions. Michael couldn’t help himself as he scooted a little closer.

“I can massage it if you want, I bet that’ll help some of the aching,” Michael offered. Alex eyed him suspiciously. “Nothing weird, I promise, I just hate seeing that you’re in pain.”

“No one but my doctor and my PT have touched it since I lost it,” Alex admitted. Michael stared at him, unsure if that was a rejection or not. But then Alex untied the knot at the end of his sweats and hiked them up over his knee.

“Just tell me if you want me to stop.”

Michael scooted closer and pulled Alex’s stump into his lap, touching it gently at first. They never spoke about how he lost it, but Michael knew it couldn’t have been easy. The skin was warm to the touch and his underworked muscles were tense, clearly in need of a rougher pair of hands from a different angle than its owner. So he got to work.

Alex’s head fell back against the wall and Michael tried not to look. It was harder than he expected though. Soft little noises were coming from this man he’d spent nearly every day with these last few months, sharp intakes of breaths and desperately controlled moans. He tried to keep his thoughts in a pure place as he massaged harder and Alex’s noises got more unhinged. He wasn’t a cheater and neither was Alex. He was helping a friend who was hurting.

“Thank you,” Alex said once he was done, face flushed, “Sorry if I‒”

“No, it’s okay,” Michael said, smiling at him, “I understand.”

Michael went home that night feeling guilty and Alex went home that night feeling it even moreso. They both tried to be good, tried not to think about their friend in that way when their spouse was in the next room. But somehow, as they took their own separate showers, their thoughts went to each other. It was easy to touch themselves to the thought of finally being touched by someone else again.

By the time the next day rolled around and Alex was still haunting his brain, he knew it’d gone too far. Even though it wasn’t what his wife was doing, it still felt so wrong. He was married and yet he hadn’t thought about his wife in too long. He was too busy thinking about his neighbor.

And still as his lunch break rolled around, he couldn’t help but dial Alex’s number.

“Hey, is everything alright?” Alex asked when he picked up. They never spoke over the phone. They didn’t even text. They had each other’s numbers for emergencies only. How could Michael explain that this was an emergency?

“I just needed to hear your voice,” he admitted shamefully.

“Okay,” Alex said softly. It was clear that he also thought it was too far. They’d crossed a line and nothing real had even happened. How the hell did his wife do this and so much more without guilt? He couldn’t do this anymore. “I’m writing your article.”

Maybe one more day.

“Read it to me?”

“Of course.”

“We shouldn’t do this.”

“But‒”

“I’m married!”

“So am I,” Alex said as David on purpose, but as himself on accident. Because it made sense a little to him now. Sometimes you just couldn’t control who you fell in love with. “But I can’t resist you anymore.”

Michael looked at him, face torn between desire and hesitance. He was leaning against a tree that was in a park that was technically on the way to the market. It was a simple detour, but it was dark and they were alone and he looked beautiful.

“David,” Michael said, shaking his head, “This is wrong.”

“I know it is, Caroline,” Alex answered, stepping closer.

Yesterday, they’d crossed a line. They touched and while it was meant to be platonic, it felt like more when Alex felt more. They’d spoken on the phone and that should’ve been platonic, but it couldn’t be when Michael felt more. They both knew it was more. They both knew it was wrong.

This had to be their last reenactment. This had to be the right one.

“You make it so hard to resist you,” Michael told him, “They way you carry yourself like that. You’ve been through so much and yet you’re still so strong.”

“Me?” Alex scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets in an attempt to keep them to himself, “God, I’m just trying to survive around you. You flaunt yourself for me, I know it. The way you dress, the way you do your hair, the way you say my name…”

Alex was in his space before he even knew it. They were so close, hardly a centimeter apart. If either one of them breathed just a little harder, their chests would touch. That had never happened before. Until it did.

“Alex,” Michael said, his hands going up to press into Alex’s chest. Their foreheads met as Alex held onto his wrists, keeping them close.

“Just like that.”

They shared breaths, so close he could kiss him if he wanted. And he wanted. But Alex couldn’t bring himself to do it and Michael couldn’t either, yet neither of them could manage to break contact. He wanted this. He wanted him.

“I can’t be them,” Michael whispered, tears building in his eyes, “I won’t be them.”

“I know,” Alex agreed, nodding slightly against him. He couldn’t move away though and Michael didn’t push him. “I didn’t… I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know.”

They breathed more and slowly, slowly Michael’s fingers locked with Alex’s. Alex felt more in that moment than he did on his wedding night. He didn’t have the heart to ask Michael if it was the same for him.

“I love you,” he admitted, telling him and the darkness and no one else. He could see those tears falling down Michael’s cheeks as he clutched his hands.

“I love you too,” Michael said, voice breaking, “But I can’t. I won’t. I won’t do this. I won’t be like them. I’m not a cheater. Neither are you.”

“I know,” Alex agreed, “I know.”

They stayed there, trying to work up the courage to leave the one place of comfort they’d found in years. Michael was able to gently push him away first, their grips on each other unraveling as they put more and more space.

The space kept getting bigger and bigger until Michael was out of sight. Alex didn’t realize he was crying too until he was gone completely. His heart ached like it never had before, a new shade of loneliness tearing into his gut with no sign of stopping.

He leaned against the tree and sobbed until he could remember how to walk.

-three years later-

Alex stood in his house with pride.

He’d signed his first lease by himself with no roommates and that felt good. Everything felt good. He was three years single, two years out of Roswell, and one year of feeling like the man he knew he could be. That was a good thing.

Still, even though three years had passed, he thought of Michael regularly. He’d see ramen and smile at the sloppy way he shoved it into his mouth. He’d see curly hair and feel his heart try to escape his chest. He’d hear wild laughter and he’d miss him a little more.

It was hard at first. He avoided going outside until he finally managed to tell David it was over, but by then Michael had already ended it with Caroline and moved somewhere else. He never got the chance to really say goodbye which seemed to hurt even more. Every once in a while he’d be tempted to call him, so he eventually deleted his number so he wouldn’t have anything to be tempted by. That was when he finally was able to get the hell out of Roswell and move to Santa Fe. Maybe it wasn’t much of an upgrade, but he felt it.

He felt it and he was ready to move on, to try again.

With a content sigh, Alex made his way outside so he could go grocery shopping for the first time for his new house. He locked the door behind and made his way to his car, unlocking it just as his neighbor locked theirs. Human instinct caused him to look up at the sound and he had to do a double take as a man with unmistakable curls stood in the driveway beside his.

Alex stood frozen, unwilling to believe this was real until he saw his face. Hell, even when they locked eyes, he couldn’t believe it was real. In what world was he allowed to live beside this man twice? What was this?

“Alex?” Michael said, his voice so real that Alex nearly fell to the ground. He held onto his car for balance, staring at him. Michael came closer in slow strides and all Alex could do was think of why he deserved this.

Perhaps this was his good karma for doing the right thing.

“Michael?” Alex said even as he stepped up to him. And Michael smiled that same brilliant smile. Tears came to Alex’s eyes without warning at the sight and it made that smile fall.

“Are you alright?” he asked, stepping closer. Alex let out a breathy laugh and nodded.

“Yeah. I really am.”

He deserved this.

#alteraroswell2020 #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

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