#i got overwhelmed by something about half way through answering this so if anything sounds off that's probably why | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

reidmania · 5 months ago

Text

you're my best friend | spencer reid

summary; you tell spencer he is your best friend to you its a indication of more to him its rejection.

warnings; best friends to lovers expect they dont make it to lovers whoops, angst whoops again, i think all lovers should be best friends, (un) requited feelings (ur both idiots) its short and honestly i dont remember writing this, mentions of dating other people but like whatever

an; yk that line in ‘you are in love’ by taylor swift thats like pauses, then say, you’re my best friend, and you knew what it was, he is in love? thats what gave me this idea im also just really fucking sad tonight and i miss my ex idk im also trynna be aesthetic am i aesthetic

any other night you wouldn't of cared to notice the way the streetlights blarred through the raindrops on the window or how the dark clouds lined the sky covering every showing star in their path. you wouldn't have noticed any of that if you weren't so focused on beiing focused on anything else.

anything other than spencer reid who was sitting beside you, driving you home. the case you had just got back from was long and angonizing. it was a complete pain to get through and it wasn't a secret that the entirety of the team were all ready to get home to their families and their own beds.

so, you weren't exactly estatic when remembering you hadn't driven to the office a week ago after being called in for the case, you were instead dropped off by your friend after the two of you needed to talk.

so you were car-less, and tired.

spencer reid, your best friend and possibly the nicest person on earth offered to drive you home without a second thought. even though he was equally as tired and ready to curl up into his own bed, he said he would drive you home and then refused to listen to any argument about it.

"are you okay" your head snapped towards the sound of his voice, his eyes glancing between you and the road, obviously noticing the rather disorientated look covering your features as you stared out the windshield.

you nodded, eyebrows furrowing. "yeah- yeah im just tired" it wasn't a lie, you were tired. you were also insanely confused about the feelings weighing on your chest everytime your eyes lingered on his for a moment too long.

he hummed, eyes returning to the road. you took that as your chance to look back at his face, bad idea.

your eyes danced over the curve of his nose and the line of his jawline and then the softness of his eyes, the flutter of his eyelashes every time he blinked or squinted at the bright lights of the road. you studied every indent over the soft skin of his cheeks and cheekbones that you could see from his side profile and your stomach warmed.

you turned your head away when that feeling returned, the one you were hyperaware of. it made your stomach feel as if it was burning a hole in itself, your heart ache and flutter at once and your head spin with the fact that it was wrong. so wrong.

“how’s ethan” he asked, his eyes remaining set on the road as he voice remained soft and quiet, like it seemed to always be when he spoke to you.

your eyes widened for a brief moment of the guy you had been, half kind of dating — if you could even call it that. you had been on a few dates. ethan worked at the coffee shop not to far from the bullpen, and asked you out two weeks ago. being surrounded by derek, emily and spencer didn’t exactly help the overwhelming expectation that fell on your shoulders in that moment.

derek answered for you, actually, in that moment. he had said you’d love to, and then teased you the entire way back to the bullpen after getting your coffee and you didn’t have the heart to pull out of the date, it wasn’t actually that bad — there was just something not right.

the more you hung out with ethan the more you realised there wasn’t actually anything wrong with him, he was nice, respectful, he made you laugh and you could talk easily. he was nothing short of a gentleman.

it was just, every-time the two of you had a conversation you waited for a absentmindedly long ramble about something random or a correction on one of something you pointed , and it never came. you waited for doctor who to be brought up and it never was. the movies you watched with ethan were rom coms and chick flics, or comedy’s rather than documentaries, or science films, or films in other languages that you had to rely on subtitles for.

he wasn’t spencer.

that was the only issue, and that why you had broken off with him before you went on this case, actually you had just finished breaking it off with him when you got the call which was why you were car-less since he had dropped you off.

you couldn’t in good conscience keep hanging around ethan after realising you had feelings for your best friend. you told him the truth and how understanding and respectful he was about it only made the guilt build deeper in your ribcage.

“i broke it off” you told spencer honestly. you wouldn’t lie or play it off there was no point in that. spencer would find out eventually you just wished that being honest didn’t mean it would come with questions.

his eyebrows furrowed for a moment, as his eyes flickered between the road and your face for a moment, you kept your gaze to the ground of the car, focusing on the carpeted floor rather than the feelings that swarmed in your chest that you honestly wished would just swallow you whole and get you as far away from actually feeling them.

“why? did he do something?” it was curious and gentle, like he was genuinely worried that this guy had done something that had hurt you — and it made your chest ache painfully, you genuinely felt physical chest pain at the sound of his words as they processed through your mind.

you shook your head quickly anyways, “no, he was.. good, great.. i just— didn’t feel it, y’know?” you huffed out, eyes still refusing to meet his. you were scared if you did that the confession would come blabbering pass your lips without a second thought because you were so use to telling him everything.

he let out a sigh of relief, glad that you weren’t upset or that this guy hadn’t done anything to hurt you. “i get it” he replied, his voice was gentle and careful. you wondered if he genuinely did — he always seemed to have a power of just reading your mind yet this time you were almost sure that wouldn’t be the case.

the car was pulling into park out side the front of your house moments later, and you felt a sort of sick feeling in your stomach. one that was indescribable to a t. the sort of feeling that left a bad taste in the back of your throat and made your stomach twist, the sort that left goosebumps trailing down your arms and the hairs stand on the back of your neck.

he said your name so quietly as if he had something important he needed to say. for the first time that car ride, since you had left the bau you met his eyes and every emotion you had pushed down into the darkest part of yourself bubbled all up to the surface again.

his eyebrows were furrowed as if he was trying to debate something, lips parted then closed in indecision, before he let out a half shaky breath, his eyes studying your features like yours to his. you felt your stomach twist.

“i need to tell you-“

you cut him off and you didn’t even mean to, “you’re my best friend, spencer.” that was all you said.

and honestly it held so much weight to you it almost felt like a confession in itself, he was your best friend, he was your person. he knew you better then you knew yourself, he knew you better than anyone ever would, he memories every scar on your skin, every little thing that effected you in a way that differed from others, spencer knew you, you loved him and he was your best friend

he was your best friend in a, i want you in my life forever kind of way. i want you by my side no matter what life throws at us, i want to know that no matter what happens you remain a constant.

you needed him to remain constant.

his lips closed at your words, eyebrows furrowing a little deeper to the point the skin between the crinkled slightly. there was a flicker of something in his eyes that you would’ve noticed if he hadn’t pushed it away before you could.

“you’re my best friend too.” he breathed out.

to spencer, you were the sun. everything obits you and your existence, he would give anything to be a planet that was blessed enough to be in your orbit. if he got a glimpse of you throughout the day his heart would remain beating properly in his chest and his feelings would remain a little lighter on his mind, you were calming, you were his safe place. you were his favourite part of everyday.

you were the one thing that kept him from falling apart half the time. you were his best friend and he was in love with you, so in love with you that he shut his mouth every time you went on a date with a different guy, because if you were happy and he got to keep you as a part of his life he wouldn’t beg for different.

you were his best friend and so he pretended like his heart didn’t hurt so impossibly much when you came to him when those said dates didn’t work out or ended badly and you rambled about how you thought there was something wrong with you, because how could you think that when to him the entire solar system fought to be in your orbit?

if you hadn’t cut him off he would’ve told you all of that.

instead he watched you wave him goodbye as you walked back into your house, a weight on his chest, at the words left unsaid that danced on his tongue behind his closed lips. ‘you’re my best friend’

his mind replayed the words with the reminder that that was all he would be to you, that was all he could be and he wanted to fight it and pull back and tell you exactly how he felt and the deepness his feelings fell to,

but then again at least this way he meant something to you.

268 notes · View notes

vee6lolz · 4 months ago

Note

hello!!! how are you?

i was thinking about spencer meeting a teacher hehe I'm not so good at describing it, but maybe she's giving private lessons for a kid's neighbour of his and then they meet at the elevator of the building? pretty please? 😍

𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙. -- spencer reid x teacher!reader.

warnings/tags: (fluff!) , teacher / chaotic (but sweet) reader.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this help me i love u to whoever suggested it

wc: 1.9k !!

summary: you're a teacher whose putting in the work for summer school students, you wake up late one day and even though it seemed like the most inconvenient thing ever, it worked out in your favor after all.

NOT PROOF READ + ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The morning sun spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting stripes of light across the tangled mess of blankets in your bed. You blinked groggily, your eyes heavy and puffy from too little sleep and too many regrets. As you rubbed the remnants of last night from your eyes, your phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a string of missed calls. Four from your ex, two from his best friend. A dull ache settled in your chest—a reminder of things you’d just rather forget.

You groaned, realizing you had returned none of them. Not that you had the time, or the patience. Rolling out of bed, an overwhelming wave of yesterday’s choices washed over you; you reeked of sweat and something faintly reminiscent of cheap wine. Your gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—12:30. Oh shit. You were late.

With an urgency you hadn’t felt in days, you scrambled to gather yourself, moving your hair out of your face as you stumbled towards the bathroom, your heart racing along with the consequences of your procrastination.

you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in an effort to shake off the fog of last night. the cool rush did little to calm your racing heart as you hastily brushed your teeth, already scanning the small space for something—anything—that was clean to wear.

just as you reached for a shirt that suspiciously looked like it might’ve been worn yesterday, your phone buzzed again. the caller id read “mrs. henderson,” one of your students' moms. with a sigh, you answered, knowing you had no choice.

“hello, mrs. henderson,” you greeted, trying to inject some cheer into your voice.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied, wincing at the urgency in her tone. “yes, i am on my way right now, stuck in traffic.” you glanced at the clock again; the minutes were slipping away.

as you hurriedly threw on a wrinkled pair of pants, you glanced out the window and noticed the swarm of cars barely inching along. your frustration bubbled over, and without thinking, you shouted toward the street, “come on! move it already!”

“ugh, you know how it goes during rush hour,” you continued to mrs. henderson, half-exasperated and half-amused at your own antics. “yes, almost there, buh bye!” you ended the call with a shaky laugh, shaking your head at the chaos of your morning.

with adrenaline pumping and a mounting sense of urgency, you quickly pulled a sweater over your head, choosing to ignore the wrinkles. tugging on your shoes, you grabbed your bag and took one last look in the mirror. you could only hope today wasn’t a complete disaster—and that you wouldn’t have to dodge any more frantic phone calls.

you got out of your car and parked in guest parking, the summer sun pouring through the window, painting the seats in golden hues. instead of lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping piña coladas and listening to the sound of gentle waves, you were stuck in summer school with one specific student. your friends were sharing stories of tropical adventures while you were grading notes on multiplication and grammar. it wasn’t that the student was a bad kid; in fact, she had been a solid performer until the semester began to slip away from her. she was bright but had a stubborn streak that kept her from doing anyone else’s work, that is, until she met you, ms. [l/n]. the school administration figured that since you had built such a great rapport with her, why not sacrifice a little vacation time to help ensure the girl wouldn’t flunk? and if they thought you were just going to say yes because you felt bad... then yeah, they were right. god you hated teaching summer school.

as you arrived and, rushed down the hall, you hit the button for the elevator, tapping it with increasing impatience as the minutes slipped away. the elevator door stood stubbornly closed. you groaned and hit the button again and again, tapping it with a combination of desperation and frustration.

“having trouble?” a voice chimed from behind you. you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you, his frame around six feet tall, effortlessly commanding the small space. he had tousled dark hair, and his cheekbones were high and defined, complemented by a slight smile. his eyes were a striking shade of hazel, an unusual mix that seemed to shift with the light. he wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his lean frame, paired with dark suit pants. he looked almost too perfect—a professor-type, but a bad one. like someone who could educate you on the theory of relativity and then do things to you you would never forget.

“uh, yeah. it won't budge,” you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you briefly noted how attractive he was. he approached the elevator panel and swiftly pressed the actual button—of course, the one you had been mashing fruitlessly. the elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and you stepped inside, feeling a mix of gratitude and intrigue.

“thank you,” you said, glancing at him as the doors closed. you stood next to each other in the cramped space, and you couldn’t help but eye him curiously. he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally looking down at his hands. you couldn’t figure out why he was so quiet, but you didn’t dwell on it for long; your focus was on arriving to the door.

as the elevator hummed its way to your destination, you noticed the number flashing above the door. to your surprise, you were headed to the same floor. just as you reached it, you both instinctively moved toward the door at the same time.

“oh, after you,” he offered, his voice smooth and lightly teasing. your heart raced again, not just from the sense of urgency but also from how charming his laugh was. you couldn't help but notice the way it seemed to echo around you, making you want to hear it again.

“no, please. after you,” you insisted in return, and you both found yourselves caught in an awkward dance, both trying to let the other go first, unable to decide who should step out first.

“after you,” he repeated, laughter dancing in his voice, and just like that, you nodded, cheeks slightly warm, before stepping out of the elevator. as you walked past him, you felt the warmth of his presence lingering, and that laugh—oh, God if you weren't so late right now...

you sat across from your young student at the small kitchen table, surrounded by a mix of colorful worksheets, pencils, and books. The late afternoon light poured in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The little girl diligently worked on her times tables, the crinkled paper a testament to her determination.

As you glanced occasionally at her progress, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Teaching had its challenges, but moments like these reminded you why you loved it. You caught yourself smiling—genuine, unfiltered joy spilling over as the girl successfully rattled off another multiplication fact. but you also caught yourself remembering the tall man in the elevator, you smirked to yourself even more.

In a moment of concentration, she looked up and noticed. “You’re smiling a lot!” she blurted out, her eyes wide with curiosity. You chuckled softly, caught off guard by her observation. “I guess I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

“My neighbor down the hall works for the FBI,” she announced with an important air. Her youthful confidence was contagious. “He’s a profiler or something, and he says that when someone’s smiling a lot, it means that something happened to make them happy.”

“Yeah, I saw something that made me happy alright,” you said lighter than you intended, before a wave of realization washed over you. maybe that wasn’t... appropriate to say in front of a fourth grader. Your mind raced as you searched for a safe response.

“What does that mean?” She asked, you stammered and stuttered and asked. “Well, uh-- Hey would you look at that its almost time for me to go.” She looked at you curiously, clearly pondering what you’d said. There was a peculiar wisdom in her gaze, and you quickly ushered her away.

After a final glance around the apartment, you slipped on your coat and grabbed your bag, feeling the familiar excitement of stepping out into the bustling world again. The hallway felt cozy as you made your way to the elevator, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft chiming sound, you stepped inside, your mind drifting to thoughts of your next tutoring session and the plans you had for the weekend. Just as the doors were about to close, they jolted back open, and a man stepped in—tall, with tousled dark hair and a warm smile that lit up his face. He glanced over at you, and you instinctively looked up, catching his gaze. In that moment, time seemed to stand still amid the commotion of your lives outside.

A smile broke across your face, a soft, inviting expression that mirrored his own. And without thinking, you spoke up, "You came in this morning, but you're leaving this afternoon." you said, without thinking. It sounded creep to me, but he understood what I meant. He nodded, "Yeah my job it uh-- I work for the uh-- Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI." your jaw drops, and he looks, but not limited to, concerned. "Is everything--" "Yeah its just uhm, funny enough my student, I think she was talking about you today-- I teach, so," you mutter out, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She 'profiler..ed'? me, I guess. I was smiling and she knew that something happened this morning to make me smile. She said she got it from you," he looked in complete and udder awe as he let out a chuckle. he nodded, then thinking for a bit. The elevator dinged, and instead of parting ways there, you guys walked the parking lot together. "Anderson? The little one," He said, making the motion with his hand to the side of his hip. You nodded your head in agreement. "Yeah she's really bright," he adds with a smile.

You agree with him, and look at him with curiosity in your eye. "Why were you smiling this morning?". The question lingers through the air, as he gives that laugh, that laugh, that he gave this morning that you almost risked everything for, filling the silence.

"You were staring, really hard." You feel your whole world shatter in embarrassment as those five words escape his lips, you laugh out of complete shock and horror as he can't help but begin to join you out of response to your reaction. "It's okay, it was just funny. Plus, I was too.". You let that stay in the air for a bit— those gorgeous hazel eyes looking down into yours, you smiled. And that's all you did. He walked you to your car, making sure you got there safely. And before he could walk off to his own, you spoke out. "Hey would you— happen to have a card? Just incase I wanna talk to you about, profiling or, the right buttons on the elevator." You say, realizing how stupid that sounding coming out. But he didn't think so, not at all. "Or incase I just wanna, talk to you..." Your voice fading out as he walked back over to you. Spencer Reid.

"I'll be expecting a call from you, you know. About, the right buttons on the elevator." He smiled, chuckling out. You nodded your head. 'will do...' you thought to yourself as you turned the engine on, letting the rumbling of your car fill your ears for a moment.

oh thank, God, to being late.

144 notes · View notes

songbirdseung · 5 months ago

Text

the new girl / sim jaeyun

where sim jaeyun takes a liking of the new employee working under their label. genre strangers to friends, friends to lovers warnings none?

Who would have thought that one day you’d be standing between the tall gray walls you had grown so familiar with, walls you had only seen through a screen while watching your favorite TikTok challenges? Yet, here you were, taking a tour of the very company you would soon be working for.

As you walked alongside your supervisor, a sense of disbelief and awe washed over you. Every corner you turned revealed a scene you had seen in videos, now coming to life before your eyes. The reality of it all hit you harder with each step. Never in your wildest dreams did you imagine you’d be working for this company, let alone as an assistant manager for your favorite boy group.

By the end of the day, your back ached from all the bowing, your cheeks hurt from maintaining a polite smile with every introduction, and your brain buzzed with the effort of trying to remember each and every name and face.

But when it came time to greet the last person, there was no way you could forget them.

Jake was heading toward the company's café to grab a coffee before clocking out for the day when he noticed you. Your unfamiliar face instantly caught his attention, and he found himself unable to look away as the barista prepared his order. Curiosity mixed with a sudden surge of courage propelled him forward, his feet moving on their own until he was standing right in front of you.

"Hi."

He had planned to say more, to offer something witty or engaging, but the moment he got a closer look at you, his brain seemed to short-circuit, leaving him with only that simple greeting.

Meanwhile, you were utterly speechless. If you had been in disbelief earlier just from being at the company, seeing Jake—your bias—up close now pushed you beyond anything you could have imagined. You knew you’d eventually meet them, but not this soon, and definitely not like this.

"Hey," you reply, a shy smile tugging at your lips as you look up at him.

The silence that follows isn’t awkward, but rather a comfortable pause, filled with intrigue and curiosity. You both take a moment to study each other, eyes searching for something familiar yet completely new. Jake gazes at you with a mix of wonder and hesitation, his mind racing to find the right words that wouldn’t make him sound like a fool.

"Uhm… are you new here? I don't think I've ever seen you around," he finally asks, his voice carrying a soft hint of uncertainty as if he's just as surprised by his boldness as you are.

"Yeah, it's my first day actually," you respond, your answer piquing Jake’s curiosity even more. In that moment, he forgets all about the plans he had with Ni-ki, finding himself sitting across from you, elbows resting on the table, leaning in as if trying to etch your face into his memory.

He sneaks a glance at your ID and name pin, reading off your name and work position before looking back at you with a playful grin. Whatever had come over him, this boldness was new, unfamiliar territory. But with you, it felt surprisingly easy. "Assistant manager? For a second, I thought you were a trainee," he jokes, laughing softly when he notices the blush spreading across your cheeks.

Meanwhile, you were internally freaking out, half expecting to wake up from what felt like a dream. The urge to pinch yourself or curl up in a ball once you were alone later was overwhelming, but you tried your best to stay composed. You didn’t want to embarrass yourself, so you kept your cool, even though your mind was spinning. "Yeah, I'm 21, there's no way they'd accept me as a trainee," you giggle, the sound soft and sweet, contrasting the storm of emotions swirling inside you.

Jake's eyes widen at your answer, the realization that you’re both the same age catching him off guard. But his surprise quickly melts into a smile, his mind already crafting a witty response.

"Really? We’re the same age? Well, I guess that means you’re old enough to help me sneak out of work early," he teases, leaning back with a playful glint in his eyes. "But I suppose since you're assistant manager now, you might be the one keeping an eye on me instead."

And that's exactly what you did. The next few days were a whirlwind of responsibilities, with tasks piled high on your desk, each one challenging enough to match your level of expertise. Your supervisors were thorough, guiding you through the nuances of your new role, ensuring you were well-equipped to handle the demands of the job. It was overwhelming at times, but you were determined to prove yourself.

Despite the hectic pace, you couldn’t help but steal a few moments to observe the boys, especially Jake. You found yourself subconsciously timing your breaks with theirs, just to catch a glimpse of them in the practice room or in the hallways. Watching them work so hard was fascinating, but your eyes always seemed to be drawn to Jake.

His energy was magnetic, and you admired the way he balanced his laid-back attitude with his dedication to the group. Whether he was practicing choreography with laser focus or joking around with the members during breaks, there was something about him that made it impossible for you to look away. Every time he flashed that easy smile or cracked a joke, it was like a small burst of sunshine in the middle of your busy day.

Jake seemed to notice your presence too. You’d often catch him glancing your way during practice, a mischievous glint in his eyes whenever your gazes met. It became a little game between the two of you—these stolen moments of connection amidst the chaos of the day. And each time, your heart would skip a beat, the memory of your first encounter in the café replaying in your mind.

"yn, come over, I think it's time you meet the boys you'll be closely working with," your manager calls out through the open door of the dance practice room, motioning you to join him.

With hesitancy, you make your way inside. Immediately, the boys, who were sprawled on the floor after a long practice session, turn their attention toward you. Some glance at you directly, while others observe you through the mirror. The manager brings you closer, a warm smile on his face as he introduces you to the group. One by one, they get to their feet, smiles spreading across their faces as they bow and greet you.

"Hi, I'm Heeseung," the eldest says, extending his hand with a kind smile. "Welcome to the team. Don't worry, we’re not as intimidating as we might look."

Jungwon, the leader, steps forward next. "Nice to meet you, yn. We’re all really excited to work with you." Jay gives you a small nod, his eyes twinkling with curiosity.

Sunghoon smiles warmly, brushing his hair back. "Looking forward to working with you, yn. It’ll be fun having you around."

Sunoo bounces up next, his energy infectious. "I’m Sunoo! It’s nice to finally meet you in person. You’re going to love it here—I’ll make sure of it," he says with a playful wink. "And if you ever need a break from these guys, I’m your go-to person," he teases, earning playful protests from the others.

And then there’s Jake, standing at the back, his smile widening as your eyes meet. That smile—his smile—it seems to melt away all the stress and tiredness from your shoulders. "Hey," he greets simply, his voice warm and familiar, like a shared secret between the two of you.

Last but not least, Ni-ki steps forward, his usual playful grin in place. "Hi, yn. I’m Ni-ki! It’s great to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you," he says with a wink. Then, as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he adds, "Jake talks about you all the time."

There’s a beat of silence as the words hang in the air, and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Jake’s eyes widen slightly, his ears turning red as he quickly turns to Ni-ki. "Ni-ki!" he says, his tone a mix of embarrassment and warning.

Ni-ki realizes his slip-up, his grin fading as he looks between you and Jake. "Oh, uh, I mean—" he stammers, trying to backpedal. "Just, you know, about how you’re new and all…"

The other members chuckle, trying to suppress their amusement at the situation. Sunoo nudges Ni-ki, whispering something that makes him look even more flustered, while Jay and Heeseung exchange knowing looks.

Your manager, sensing the shift in mood, clears his throat, redirecting the conversation. "Well, I’m glad you’ve all had the chance to meet yn. I’m sure you’ll work well together."

Jake, still a bit red, gives you a sheepish smile, scratching the back of his neck. "Don’t mind him, he’s just… Ni-ki," he says, his voice trailing off as he struggles to find the right words.

You offer a reassuring smile, trying to play it cool despite the fluttering in your chest. "It’s okay," you say softly, meeting Jake’s eyes again. "I’m looking forward to working with all of you."

The awkward tension begins to dissipate as the boys, one by one, continue to welcome you with genuine warmth and friendliness. But even as the introductions wrap up and the conversation shifts to lighter topics, you can’t help but steal a few glances at Jake, wondering just what Ni-ki had meant—and if Jake had really been talking about you more than you realized.

174 notes · View notes

amsznn · 10 months ago

Text

2,000 MILES TO NONE ⋆⭒˚.

part 2 — part 1 here

A/N: ty guys sm for the love on all my recent posts! lmk what you would like to see and if i should make a tag list <3

you quickly noticed how L.A. was much different from boston, and honestly you weren’t loving it much. from the high temperatures to the busy streets, at first it was all overwhelming for you.

but now this is your fourth or fifth visit to L.A. and you started appreciating the differences it had from your home town. you soon found yourself falling in love with it.

the sun was peeking through matt’s curtains as you both were splayed across his silk bed sheets. he was the first to wake up and took the time to admire you while you slept. you hated when he did this since you thought you looked bad while you slept, but matt felt the complete opposite. he loved having these little moments with you since he felt the intimacy without having to actually be intimate.

but his little candid moment came to an end as you stirred in your sleep, turning on your side to stuff your face into his bare chest. “stop staring at me, weirdo.” you jokingly mumbled, still half asleep but not enough to miss the way matt’s eyes lingered on you.

“but you’re so pretty.” matt retorted while chuckling. you smiled at the sound while slowly bringing your hand to rub your eyes awake while saying “i look like a fish.”

“yeah, you kinda do.” matt laughed as you sat up quickly, shocked at his answer. you couldn’t help but smile as you roll your eyes. almost everyone could say that the way matt looks at you was like no other. his eyes filled with adoration and love when he looked at you, or whenever he looked in your general direction. the same could be said about you. no matter what matt would be doing, your whole focus would be on him like he was the last person left on this earth. no one could deny it, you both were lovestruck.

as the day went on, you and matt didn’t do anything extravagant. you two just stayed in and spent some time with nick and chris, catching up and doing silly tiktoks. eventually, matt confessed that he actually had something planned, so with that he dragged you out of the house to venture off to your next excursion. while on the drive, you tried prying out what the surprise was from matt. eventually, you got frustrated as he wasn’t budging. “cmon matt, y’know i dont like surprises.” you said while slumping in the passenger seat. the urge to know was killing you. “it’s nothing big, plus we’re almost there.” he said before turning the music on the radio up, subtly telling you to shut up.

he was right though. it was only in a matter of minutes before you reached your destination. you stepped out of the car before observing the scenery around you. “the beach?” you questioned as you watched matt make his way to the trunk of the car before pulling out a basket. he only nodded before he intertwined your fingers with his, leading you to this nice spot on the beach where the water wasn’t too far nor too close. since it was late in the evening, the sun was just setting which made for a beautiful view.

matt reaches into the basket before pulling out a blanket so you both could sit on the sand without getting dirty. he rummaged around the basket some more before pulling out a hefty amount of snacks. “i thought we’d come to the beach since we never had the chance to back in boston.” he said while softly chuckling.

“i also made sure to get you your favorite snacks, if you’re still hungry we can stop somewhere on the way back though.” matt said before pulling out more things from the basket. “i also thought it would be fun to do that thing on tiktok where we finish each other’s paintings.” as matt finishes explaining, he realized you were silent for quite some time now, so he looked up at you only to be met with your eyes watering. “did i do something wrong?” matt worriedly asks, scared you were upset about him getting the wrong snacks or something.

you shook your head before wiping your eyes. “no matt, it’s perfect.” you smiled and looked at everything around you. “i just don’t know how i got so lucky.”

matt softly smiled before cupping both sides of your face and bringing you in for a soft kiss.

“if anything, i’m the lucky one.”

you smiled at his words, close to tears once again. if someone told you you’d be with such a caring and loving individual, you probably wouldn’t have believed them. heartbreak after heartbreak, you began to think that love was hopeless. that was until you met matt. he showed you everything and more about loving someone, and how wonderful it can be.

the moment was bittersweet, as you couldn’t believe that in a matter of days, you’d be back to being 2,000 miles apart.

A/N: i had a mental breakdown writing this because i wrote sm but i forgot to save it then tumblr deleted my work. FINISHED IT EITHER WAY THO. so glad you guys enjoyed part 1 to this <3

#sturniolo fluff #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #matt x reader #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #requests open #fluff #matthew sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #christopher sturniolo

163 notes · View notes

wayfayrr · 1 year ago

Note

Can I get a Christmas Pudding with a spiked eggnog to eat in?

Ps. love your work also when i checked your event gingerbread and candycane were a bit odd and didnt mention characters.. (as of 23:28 on dec 10)

order up - I hope you're happy with it <3

Yandere first 👀? It's been a minute since I've written for him but he's such a fun link to play with. I'll drop a warning for this though - he's got a few issues regarding divinity and theres a bit of blood/gore in it (although I know some people prefer that)

[Event masterlist]

It’s nice being in a village again since who knows how long. Having another link join us was a nice surprise, even though he’s a bit more awkward than the others. Just a shame his ‘Hyrule’, despite it not being named yet, was so terrible. So empty and dead, full of abandoned villages, at least those that are more than charred remains.

“If you’re overwhelmed by the crowds we can go back to the inn if you’d prefer.”

His grip on my hand tightened as he seemed to think it over, he’s clearly uncomfortable but there seems to be something stopping him from simply admitting it. I could force the issue and change the question, maybe that could get and answer from him.

“I was planning to go back anyway, might as well make the most of having a private room for now, right?”

“I suppose that it is getting late now.”

I know that links sacred form is a wolf, but does he really have to lean into the clingy puppy side of it? Not even the rancher is this bad as wolfie, and he’s a literal dog at that point. He isn’t asking to share a room with me though which is nice, even though he’s a link and kind at that, there’s something off-putting about him.

“Mhm, I’m definitely certain, it’ll be nice to call it early for once too.”

“Right then dear.”

How is he already so comfortable with using pet names for me? He’s known me for less than a week, yet he already sounds like he sees himself as my lifelong partner or something. All of the others have those types of names for me too, but with them? It took a while for them to warm up to me, I wouldn't have stayed with them half as long if they were like this.

“You remember where your room is right?”

“Actually dear, I wanted to ask if I could come to your room in a moment, I’ve gotten you a gift and I think it’s a good time to give it to you.”

…A gift alone in my room, what is he planning?

“I saw it in town earlier and I was just going get it for you so I could keep it a surprise.”

“You really don’t need to get me anything link.”

“I want to though, it’s the least I could do for you.”

Just a hum. I’m not going to be able to convince him one way or the other, am I? Really though, am I overthinking this, what harm could a gift cause after all?

I don’t have to wait for too long though, taking the time to sort through my belongings and practice some of the stitches legend and wars taught me to mend my clothing. If I had to guess then I was only waiting for about thirty minutes till there’s a knock on the door.

“Link you -”

“Why are you covered in blood?”

He’s just smiling. Smiling and holding a package in his hands.

“I was just getting you a gift, my deity.”

“I-”

There’s no time to even respond as he’s shoving it into my hands as he walks in. I have so many questions but so few answers, why is he so bloody, why is it dripping, why is it warm? He’s looking at me so adoringly though, waiting for me to open it so politely. You know how to untie a knot [name], you can do this, you’ll only make it worse for yourself if you don’t open it.

“Do you like my sacrifice for you, my deity?”

It’s a freshly butchered heart. Dripping with blood in my hands. He’s killed someone and torn out their heart to give me wrapped up as a gift. And now he’s looking at me for praise, he wants me to praise this. I feel like I’m about to throw up.

“You I… I don’t….”

“He was looking at you and trying to court you earlier and if there’s one thing that I learnt from hylia. It’s that gods adore sacrifices in their name.”

“But… I - I’m not…I’m not a god link.”

He doesn’t believe me, he’s got a sickening smile on his face like he’s done a good thing. Wait - why is he? The feeling of his blood sodden hand stroking my face is even more sickening than the heart still in my hold - why haven't I dropped it - he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. He’s proud.

…What have I gotten myself into.

#moss✦writes #linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere linked universe #link x reader #yandere link #yandere first #lu first x reader #lu first #yandere legend of zelda #legend of zelda x reader

136 notes · View notes

hard-core-super-star · 1 year ago

Note

May I please request that Hailee and reader are in a secret relationship, and hailee is on instagram live, fans can hear movement and voices in the background and keep asking hailee whose with her.

meet me there, i'll give you your roses [H.Steinfeld]

pairing: hailee steinfeld x reader

summary: just because you two are supposed to be keeping your relationship a secret doesn't mean you can't have some fun with it.

warnings: none, just fluff; secret relationship shenanigans; weird descriptions of an instagram live chat; still can't write endings :)

wordcount: 1k

a/n: full disclosure, the title has nothing to do with the fic at all, i'm just spreading the måneskin agenda. i sort of messed around with the point of view in this fic, it might not be noticeable but just wanted to point it out in case it's confusing. it's more hailee-centric than my other fics instead of it just being about R's thoughts. you'll see what i mean, hope you enjoy! <3

* * * * * * *

Hailee’s eyes are trained on the screen of her phone while she tells the most ridiculously random story she could think of. It’s been far too long since the last time she did an Instagram Live and her excitement at getting to interact with her fans again is more than a little obvious.

Free time has been harder and harder to find between all the photoshoots and interviews, especially considering there's only one person she wants to talk to when her schedule allows it.

“And then y/n had to come in and-”

You look up at the sound of your name. You hadn’t been paying much attention to her story, too busy looking through food delivery apps and trying to decide what to have for dinner.

The original plan was to cook something for dinner but a certain someone decided to do an impulsive Live instead and so the plan was scrapped. Not that you mind. Hailee’s skill in the kitchen is…a work in progress, at least when it comes to potato peels.

Her eyes meet yours almost as if she knows exactly what you’re thinking about. You half expect her to stick her tongue out at you but doing that would only lead to more questions she can’t answer.

You offer her a smile instead before the two of you go back to looking at your respective phones.

Hailee resumes her story, pretending she got distracted by one of her dogs and not her lovely girlfriend. It’s practically impossible to act like she can’t see all the questions pouring in about who she was actually looking at but she manages. (It’s not like acting is her job or anything)

The questions and comments flying by her screen should be annoying or at the very least overwhelming but she ends up finding them quite entertaining. She’s not about to pretend like questions about her sexuality or who she’s dating are anything new but at least now they’re less straightforward (no pun intended) than when she was on Dickinson.

At least she's not actually trying to keep things a secret this time. She's just waiting for the right time. Although the waiting gets harder every time you look at her like she's the most beautiful thing she's ever seen. She'd be upset if she wasn't aware that's exactly how she looks at you.

She tries to keep your name out of her mouth for at least a few minutes to not look super obvious but she fails miserably. “Where’s y/n?” She reads the question out loud before she can stop herself. “I don't know, probably burning down the apartment.”

An offended gasp comes from the side of the room where you're standing and you know you're kidding yourself if you think her phone didn't pick up the sound.

The look she sends your way says as much and you mentally curse yourself. Although, to be completely honest, if there's one thing you both love more than each other it's feeding the theories about your relationship.

The both of you should definitely be more careful if you don't want to get found out but creating chaos within her fandom is just too much fun. Plus, the only reason you two are sneaking around is because Hailee wants to come out ‘the right way’. Whatever that means.

(You're pretty sure it means a song and a music video featuring you but your girlfriend has been very tight-lipped about her music since SunKissing came out. A song that very well serves as a coming out announcement in your opinion.)

You decide to fix your mistake by turning people's attention elsewhere so you open up Instagram and click on Hailee’s profile. You can hear the chuckle she tries to hold back once she reads your comment.

yourusername: are you insulting my cooking skills again, Steinfeld?

The chat explodes into a flurry of comments that a certain pair of brown eyes can't keep up with.

“I'm just telling people the truth,” she replies. “There's a reason you always order food instead of cooking.”

yourusername: yeah. you never wash the dishes

“Oh, that's low.”

She forgets the game you're playing for a second, looking up to glare at you. Her eyes don't end up meeting yours since you're too busy staring down at your phone.

A small smile spreads along her face as she admires you. Even in the middle of teasing her in front of her fans, you're the most amazing thing she's ever laid eyes on. Eyes that give away the fact that she's not home alone like she originally said she was.

She looks back at her phone just in time to catch sight of the many questions she has to avoid. Such as,”Who are you looking at? Is y/n at your place? Are you having dinner together?”

She ignores them all except the one that comes from the person who owns her heart.

yourusername: so, what are YOU cooking for dinner, chef steinfeld???

The response she comes up with is definitely a bad idea but it slips out anyway. “I don't know. What do you want for dinner?”

She tries to cover up the sound of your laugh by ‘accidentally’ kicking some of Martini’s squeaky dog toys. It's a bad coverup but it's the only choice she has. It would be a lot more believable if her dogs weren't asleep in the bedroom.

yourusername: too late, i already ordered cheeseburgers

“Marry me right now,” she replies, her smile turning into a slight smirk.

You know she's messing around but your heart still skips a couple of beats as you type out your response.

yourusername: i'll think about it ;)

The doorbell rings just in time.

You let her wrap up the Live as you pick up your food. By the time you come back, her phone is gone and she's already curled up on the couch scrolling through Netflix for something to watch.

“That was fast,” you say.

She shrugs. “Thought I should help you reconsider my proposal.”

“Food first, proposal later.” You hand the bag holding your dinner over to her.

“Seriously, y/n, could you be any more perfect?”

The laugh that escapes you is enough of an answer for her. You're everything she's ever wanted.

#hailee steinfeld x reader #hailee steinfeld x female reader #hailee steinfeld x you #hailee steinfeld x y/n #hailee steinfeld fic #hailee steinfeld fluff #hailee steinfeld imagine #hailee steinfeld fanfiction #hailee steinfeld #hawkeye #mcu #mcu fanfiction #marvel #wlw #wlw fic #writing

221 notes · View notes

bygiornogiovanna · 2 years ago

Text

Back to what we were

a small yandere! giorno one shot because I love this man so much

actually, it isn't small at all oopsie. I got carried away.

warnings: implied yandere themes, implied stalking, giorno still considers you are together, manipulating

also, i don't know if my previous post was seen, but my requests have been opened again. send me your ideas!

Everything went quiet.

The chatter stopped the moment he opened the door.

You felt your knees getting weak when you saw his tall figure. It felt like time stopped the second he stepped inside the room.

With his blonde locks resting gracefully on his shoulders and his head held high, he exuded a superior air. The power he gave off was intoxicating.

His presence was overwhelming.

Every pair of eyes was laid on the influential man walking across the room. Even you couldn't break away from his spell over the public.

You, who weren't supposed to be there.

Actually, he wasn't supposed to be there. Because you worked there and he didn't.

You and Giorno broke things off a long time ago. At least, that's what it felt like.

In reality, only a few months passed. And, during those months, you couldn't say you were the happiest without him. You missed him much, but your pride kept you from returning to him. Especially since you were the one that broke the relationship.

Your gaze dropped as soon as he stared around the meeting room as if searching for something. His vigilant eyes quickly caught your figure, but he kept up the show.

"Is L/N Y/N here?" His voice rang through the room, pretending to not know exactly where you were, hiding behind your documents.

Your best friend leaned to you, his gaze moving between you and the blonde. He whispered- "Why is our new boss searching for you?"

Wait what? New boss? How?

Even though that would explain what he was doing here.

"New boss?" you whispered back, almost inaudible. Your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest that you were afraid it would get out.

"Yeah, how didn't you know? Mr. Giovanna became our boss a few weeks ago. It's said he bought the company from Diavolo." Before your friend could say anything else, Giorno's suave voice was heard again.

"I'm not aware of how the last boss let you treat him, but when I ask something, I expect answers. Immediately. I also hate repeating myself."

You rolled your eyes at his remark, but you remained quiet. You didn't want to speak with him. You preferred him being mad at everyone in the room, rather than seeing him for the first time in so long.

However, your plans were ruined by one of your coworkers, who almost yelled - "Yes, they're right there!" while pointing to you. You shot a deadly glare across the room, from where your coworker sat.

"Y/N, stand up, please. I can't see you." Giorno said, but the words sounded more like an order. Not wanting to make a scene, you sighed deeply and got up from your seat. "Good. Thank you for telling me, miss Hannah. You, come with me."

You shot another glare in Hannah's direction and got your things. "I'll be back." you murmured to your best friend and followed Giorno outside the meeting room.

Not a word could be heard until you got into what you supposed was his office now, and even then, he didn't say anything. He sat down in his chair, his emerald eyes eating you up.

"Okay. What the hell is happening here? Why are you here? How did you get this position? Why don't you leave me alone?" you said, trying to sound like you were mad at him. Honestly, you were just confused.

The corner of his lips rose, forming half an arrogant smile. You felt your heart flutter, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"That's no way of speaking to your boss, is it now?" he said calmly, but your head was spinning with the need to know, not giving a damn about his role now.

"Cut the bullshit! I didn't even know you were my boss until like, what, five minutes ago?" you kept your attitude while Giorno just extended his lips into a full smile. However, his eyes weren't smiling back at you.

"I suggest you lower that tone of yours and change your attitude, sweetheart. If you are not aware, I'm the one who is in charge now. I could fire you any second. Perhaps, I should." The coldness hidden in his calm voice sent shivers down your spine.

You roll your eyes, annoyed, and he signals you to sit down. He was right. He did have the power to do it, given his new position. "Fine, I apologize for my behavior. I'm just...confused, to say the least. You were okay with us breaking up, and now you are in my life again. As my boss, but still. I thought that's where our paths diverged. Why are you here?"

"Well, I think you know my dream is to make Italy a better place. Meaning I need to absolutely get rid of drugs. And I'm pretty sure I never agreed on our break up"

"What does that mean? I asked you if you are okay with us parting ways and you said yes!" Probably the combination of shock and confusion that was displayed on your face right now was more than funny, considering the giggle that left his pretty lips.

What am I thinking?!

"Oh, my silly little bunny...You are so funny sometimes."

You raised your brow at his remark.

"What do you mean? I'm pretty sure you did agree." After he realized you were serious, his smile dropped. You felt shivers running down your spine and it suddenly felt like the temperature went down.

"I told you I'm only giving you a break. You really thought I'll let you leave forever?"

#jjba x reader #jjba x you #jjba headcanons #jojo x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno x reader #jjba #yandere themes #jjba part 5 #yandere giorno x reader #yandere giorno #drabble #kinda long drabble??

186 notes · View notes

secretlythepits · 5 months ago

Text

Yesterday a Rant, Today a Babble

Took my husband to the oncologist. He had taken a high dose of ibuprofen so he was feeling fine. It was awkward and not indicative of his pain symptoms, which we explained, but it was like taking your car to the mechanic and it not making that worrying sound. He poked around and looked at the scans my husband got this morning. The radiologist hasn’t made a report yet and the oncologist said he can only read tumors. He didn’t see a new mass in that area and did measure one mass and saw that it had shrunk some. That’s good news, but not an answer. It could be a fractured rib or a pulmonary embolism. Those were his guesses and the radiologist will be able to detect them if that’s the case.

My husband is adamant that there is absolutely no psychological aspect to his pain. Cue eye roll. That doesn’t mean there isn’t a physiological cause, but focusing on pain makes it worse. Stress can manifest as pain in the body. He rejects those ideas. My eyes have rolled all the way to the Arctic circle.

In the appointment it unfolds that he did not take his ibuprofen with him yesterday so when he came stumbling home from work in agony, requiring a special meal and attention, he hadn’t taken painkillers in hours. This morning I told him to take the pills with him always. Guess who came home from work in pain again? It’s very frustrating because he sounds an emergency alarm but ignores common sense measures. I wasted my day accompanying him to a needless appointment. He missed half a day of work and we need his PTO desperately.

He had implied that his pain was overwhelming while medicated which is very different than pain that can be managed with ibuprofen. Also, I 100% don’t dismiss physical manifestations of distress. We all do this and sometimes we just need people to baby us when we are stressed and afraid. I would be fine being by his side for that. But it’s very irritating that he won’t acknowledge any truth in that— that is why the day feels like a waste. He is so closed off to understanding anything about what’s going on inside of himself, but he expects me to have the answers always.

Next week is treatment and that will carry into the following week too, so why all this fuss the first days the kids went to school? Why couldn’t it just be about them? Why couldn’t I enjoy a couple hours in the house alone after the nonstop togetherness of homeschooling, summer, and travel?

Maybe something will show on the scans, but even then, the scans were already scheduled and always take a few days to be analyzed. Whatever. I have learned my lesson from this: my life might turn on a dime and I must stay focused and get prepared for it. It’s up to my husband to learn his own lessons. Or not.

Did I ever tell you my theory about death?

I’ve been mulling this over for the past 7 years, reflecting on the deaths of various loved ones. In that time I have lost a parent, 2 friends, an uncle, an aunt, and a cousin. This idea came to me and I have just sat with it and watched life unfold. Here it is:

We die when one of two things happens:

We accomplish what we came to this lifetime to do. We master the lesson we came to learn.

We get as close as we are going to get to accomplishing it. We reach a point of stagnation in our spiritual growth.

This has been true (in my estimation) of my beloveds who have passed. Some had reached a point of beauty in the way that they lived so that it felt like their everyday life was the poetry of human existence. They embodied their true selves, they lived mostly in the present moment, they served others with bottomless compassion. The other people had wonderful qualities and moments, but were ultimately locked into an endless cycle of self-sabotage in one way or another. They grew, learned, and loved. They were good people, but over the years, they reached a point where they couldn’t break through to the next level. It’s like their evolution was permanently stunted in this life.

In both instances it feels like they took their spiritual growth as far as they could go on earth and then it was time to move on so their lives here ended.

I wonder about my husband.

I wonder about myself.

How much time do we need to grow here on the blue marble? What lessons need to be mastered? Or, where is the stopping point when we run out of chances because we are stuck on repeat?

I’ll tell you what: I’m not interested in the afterlife at all today. Not a bit. I have in the past and probably will in the future, but right now the idea of more life just feels

exhausting.

Don’t get me wrong, I want this life—and that’s a novel sensation for me—but it feels like it’s going to take everything I’ve got to get through it. Even if later is just a party, you know that feeling: when the week was so busy and then the party you’ve been looking forward to comes and you’re just so tired that you want to go to sleep in your pretty dress.

I’d happily dream Heaven away right now if I could.

But if it’s reincarnation next, oh me, oh my, please let me be a tree. The scurrying life of an animal is not for me.

To stay grounded while reaching for light, to send a tap root down to the Source—well, I guess I’d be up for that.

Sitting in silence in a forest with my thoughts.

That would be nice after this adventure ends

wherever and whenever

that may be.

9 notes · View notes

fanmoose12 · 2 years ago

Note

How do you think Hange would react on Levi wearing glasses?? I need to know

It must be one of these days, Hange reasons. The ones, where every sound seems ten times louder than usual and colors are too bright but for all the wrong reasons.

And, really, it was obvious that their day would become the day from the moment that Hange had woken up, nearly an hour later than they should have. As if that wasn't bad enough, not even five minutes later, they not only spilled their morning coffee, but broke their favorite mug too.

And from then on, the pile of shit just kept growing, turning into a mountain - they forgot the car keys and had to go back inside to get them, on their way to work, they got stuck in the traffic, and when they arrive at last, disheveled, annoyed, with little to no coffee inside their body and more than half an hour to their first class, they have to deal with the kids, who decided, it seems, that today is the perfect day to act as bratty and insufferable as possible.

These little damn gremlins, Hange thinks disgruntledly, after failing to quiet down the class for the third time in five minutes. They feel their eye begin to twitch, as they watch the unraveling chaos, but just before shit really hits the fan and Eren tries to yet again pounce at Jean with fists already raised, Hange sighs and raises their voice to dismiss the class.

Any other day they'd try to calm two boys down, make them settle their differences with words, shake hands and what not, but today... today, they can't bring themself to care. If they want to punch each other's face, then whatever, they're free to do so.

Just not in Hange's class.

After the kids leave - some do so happily, and some, mainly Armin, the absolute sweetheart and one of Hange's most prominent and adored students, with disappointing huffs, Hange takes a deep breath, shakes their head and leaves the classroom, venturing into the teacher's breakroom to find coffee.

The irritation and the building headache do dull a bit, when the caffeine enters their bloodstream, but Hange still feels restless, like a tight string that can break at any moment. They need to do something about, elevate the stress somehow, maybe blow out some steam in a healthy, albeit not exactly professional manner, but when they enter the office of the one, who usually takes care of it, Hange finds that Levi is not there.

And it's strange, they know for a fact that Levi has no classes in the second period and he's never ever late to work. Where did he vanish off to then?

Hange checks their phone, scrolls through their texts with Levi, and only then do they remember Levi mentioning something about a doctor's appointment.

They text him again, asking where he went and, more importantly, when he'll come back, but Levi answers elusively, with just a curt 'soon'. Hange's attempts to find out just what kind of doctor did he go to doesn't result in much either, Levi's 'you'll see' is unhelpful and a bit annoying in its vagueness.

Hange huffs, cursing his reserved nature, and, without anything better to do, they turn on their laptop and sit down to plan the lessons for the next few weeks.

The work is slow and tedious, minutes start to feel like hours, and if that wasn't pulling on their nerves, every fifteen minutes or so, a student knocks on the door of their shared office with Levi, asking about Mr Ackerman.

The constant knocking and interruption soon begin to annoy Hange even more so than the work, the boiling point appears on the horizon of their consciousness once again. If they hear another damn knock on the door or see another student, they would for sure reach that point, cross over it and succumb to the overwhelming pull of irritation.

And, naturally, not even five minutes later, the door opens once again. Hange jumps from their chair that instant, ready to tear the head of that poor soul, unlucky enough to interrupt them. But...

When they turn to face the door, they find it's not a student that stands on the threshold. No, it's Levi. Levi, dressed in his usual white pants and dark turtleneck. Levi, who is wearing glasses. Thick rimmed, brown in color, they captivate Hange's attention. Make them stare at Levi for much longer than is probably acceptable, with an expression that causes a frown to appear on his face.

It tightens, that frown, turns into a scowl, but before it can manifest in a fool-mouthed curse, Hange pulls themself together, curls their lips in a grin, and in a voice so sweet it makes Levi's left eye twitch, they say,

"Well, hello to you, Mr Four-Eyes."

"Shut up," he grumbles in a way that Hange had honestly expected him to.

He walks further in the room, attempts to push past them, but Hange doesn't let him. They corner him, pulling him closer by the belt of his pants.

"Ah, ah," they tut, revealing in Levi's vexed expression and the adorable blush that accompanies it. "Let me take a better look."

Levi huffs, but surrenders, standing in one place stoically, as Hange silently stares at him, their grin widening with every passing second.

"Well?" he breaks the silence finally. "How ridiculous do I look?"

Ridiculous? What Levi is going on about? He thinks he looks ridiculous? Ridiculously hot is a more accurate description. That's the only description Hange can honestly think of right now, because, wow. Levi always looks good, it is even kinda annoying sometimes, he can pull off any outfit, even hangover and sleep-deprived, he somehow still remains unbelievably handsome, but now, with those damn glasses on...

Hange didn't know they had a glasses kink, until they saw Levi wearing them.

"You know what's ridiculous?" they ask, pulling Levi closer, so that their breath is hovering above his lips. "How badly I want to get into your pants right now."

"Four-eyes," Levi chides, or, well, tries to. The irony of his words must catch up with him, if his wince is anything to go by. But he doesn't let that deter him, and continues in that same deadpan voice. "My class starts in five minutes."

Oh. That is rather disappointing. Quite an annoying obstacle, but, luckily, Hange is a pro at overcoming them.

"So you're saying... we only have time for a bit of a quick make out session?"

"Only if you stop blabbering and get to work, four-eyes."

"Well, four-eyes," Hange grins, delighting in the way Levi rolls his eyes at them. Payback had never felt so sweet. "I hate to keep you waiting."

True to their words, Hange doesn't. With eyes never leaving Levi's, they snake their arm around his neck, draw him flash against their body, open their mouth for a kiss, and... stop.

"Levi... do you think that'd be comfortable? To kiss when both of us are wearing glasses? I can take off mine, of course, but I kind of want to see you, and I don't want to see you without your glasses, and..."

"Hange," Levi cuts them off, in a low, growling voice that sends sparks flying down Hange's spine. "There is only one way to find out. So just shut up and kiss me already."

And, honestly, how can Hange possibly say no to that? They lean forward, press their lips to Levi, and, true, it is uncomfortable, but just for a moment. Levi slightly tilts his head, finding a new angle, so that neither of their glasses get in a way, and, oh, it feels so good that Hange begin to feel weak in knees.

And just like that, in the arms of their grumpy, unbelievably handsome Levi, Hange finds the peace that they were lacking throughout the whole day.

#levihan #god i really do hate writing sometimes #artists are so lucky they don't have to do any kind of plot and just jump straight to the fluff #ah what a dream

65 notes · View notes

sequinsmile-x · 1 year ago

Text

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Forty Four

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!

First off, thank you SO much for the response to Surrender. Seeing all the comments and little emails from Ao3 made my heart so freaking happy <3 I am so so pleased you enjoyed it.

I hope you like this chapter of SGW <3

Please do let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.8k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Emily yawns as she paces the living room, her hand rhythmically patting Lily’s back through the baby wrap she was snuggled up in.

Lily loved being held. It was something that became clear the day she born, fussing and squawking as only a newborn could whenever she woke up to find she was in the bassinet. It was something that had continued throughout the first two weeks of her life, and even though it meant Emily was very sleep-deprived since she was always their daughter’s first choice, still crying sometimes when Aaron was the one to get up with her, she couldn’t deny that she loved it. Something about holding her little girl close, of hours melting into days as she did so, that felt incredibly special.

She knew this phase wouldn’t last forever, no matter how much it felt like it might in the moment sometimes. That, before she knew it, she’d be back at work. Her initial plan had only been to take the three months of maternity leave that she’d organised with Aaron and Strauss, but now she would be spending at least half of that time recovering from surgery, her ability to do just about anything other than carry her baby restricted, she was considering asking for a little more time. The practicalities were at the forefront of her mind, and certainly would be the official reason she’d use in her request, even though she knew it was more to do with the fact she was already unable to bear the thought of being away from her baby for hours at a time.

She hears her phone ring from where she’d left it on the coffee table, the vibration of it echoing almost too loudly in the living room. She curses under her breath, fearing the sound will wake up Lily, and picks it up quickly, smiling when she sees her husband’s name on the screen. She answers quickly, making sure she keeps her voice low when she speaks, not wanting to disturb the baby pressed up against her chest.

“Hi honey,” she says, continuing her pacing of the living room, “Are you on the way home?”

“Not yet sweetheart,” he replies, an edge to his voice she’s sure she’d be able to place if she’d more sleep in the last couple of days, “How are my girls doing?”

“I’m okay, tired but what’s new?” She says, chuckling as she runs her hand up and down the culprit of her sleep deprivation’s back, “Lil is fast asleep after eating. She loves that wrap Pen got us,” Emily says, looking down at Lily, smiling at the sight of her daughter fast asleep, her cheek squished against her chest, “Seems that as long as she’s got her face pressed into my boobs she’s happy,” she kisses the top of the baby’s head, “Like father, like daughter I guess.”

She laughs at her own joke, and she hears Aaron’s laugh come down the phone, but it isn’t his usual one. It’s not the almost goofy sound she’d fallen in love with, it’s tight. Forced. And it sets her on edge. She runs her hand up and down Lily’s back and she blows out a steady breath.

“Aaron, honey, what’s wrong?”

She hears him sigh, and she can picture him pinching the bridge of his nose, deep lines carved into his forehead, appearing like they always did when he was stressed.

“I…,” he pauses, swallowing thickly, “I don’t know how to tell you this. And I really wish I wasn’t having to tell you over the phone.”

She tops pacing, frozen in place on the floor as worst-case scenarios overwhelm her, forcing her breath to catch in her chest, “Is…is someone hurt? I thought the team hadn’t been sent anywhere today-”

“Em, no it’s nothing like that,” he says, cutting her off, stopping her from spiralling any further, “It’s…it’s about your mother.”

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it hadn’t been that. For a moment, everything stops around her, everything slowing down in the quiet house, even the sound of the white noise machine that was always seemingly on these days disappearing. The only thing that keeps her grounded is the slight weight of Lily against her chest, the feeling of her breathing. Emily swallows thickly and places her hand on her daughter's back before she carefully lowers them down onto the couch.

“Sweetheart?”

She clears her throat, the edge of concern in her husband’s voice enough to bring her back to herself. “Yeah, I’m here. Sorry.”

“You have nothing to apologise for, baby,” he assures her, pausing for a moment that feels like an eternity, “Do you want me to tell you what’s happened?”

She loves him for giving her the choice, as if she had any other option than to know what was happening. She knows if he hadn’t had to call he wouldn’t have. That a part of him would have considered not telling her at all, but one of the very foundations of their relationship was honesty and it always had been, long before they got together.

“Yeah,” she answers, looking down at Lily, relieved she’s still fast asleep, finding comfort in her sweet face, “Is she hurt?”

“No,” he says quickly, “No she’s okay. But…I got a call from a cop based downtown. She was pulled over and had clearly been drinking when they spoke to her.”

Emily blows out a steady breath and closes her eyes, and tears immediately flood them. When she reopens them tears spill past her lashline. She wipes them away quickly, not wanting them to fall onto Lily’s head, for any of this to touch her.

“She was driving?” Emily asks, unsure why that is the first thought to come to her. Elizabeth rarely, if ever, drove herself anywhere, so this seemed even more needless. Even more reckless. And it makes Emily’s heart seize in her chest, disappointment and hurt she’d told herself she wouldn’t allow herself to feel over her mother’s actions spreading through her like fire. Burning her from the inside out.

“She was,” Aaron confirms, “She gave my name as a contact. I’m assuming it’s because I’m law enforcement and she knows I outrank them.”

Emily scoffs, the sound bitter as it escapes, leaving a foul taste in her mouth, “Well, even when she’s been drinking she’s still always been good at what she does,” she blows out a shaky breath and wipes more tears from her cheeks, “Has she been charged with anything?”

“No,” Aaron answers, and Emily isn’t sure what to make of the disappointment she feels, filing the feeling away for later, “I spoke to the cop and because it’s a first offence, and because of who she is, they are letting it slide.”

“That’s so…very DC,” she says, leaning down to kiss her daughter’s head, breathing in the scent of her, letting the comfort it always brought, the sense of home try to settle her. “You’re going to go pick her up, right?” She asks, his silence the only answer she needs, the reason she knows he’s called instead of coming home to tell her this, “I’ll meet you there.”

Aaron sighs again, as if he’d been expecting that response, “Em…you can’t drive yet. And I know you don’t want one of Lily’s first outings to be to a police station, no matter how much we joke about the family business.”

She chokes out a laugh, nodding even though he couldn’t see her, “I know. You’re right. You’ll be home as soon as you can be, right?”

“You know I will,” he says, his voice laced with guilt he shouldn’t feel, “I’m so sorry about this, sweetheart.”

“It’s not your fault,” she replies, her voice shaking slightly, “It’s just hers.” She feels Lily start to shift against her, and she looks down to see dark eyes looking up at her, “Can you…can you not tell her about Lily?” She asks, finding her usual desire to show her daughter off nowhere to be found, “You can tell her she’s here but please don’t say anything else. I…”

She isn’t sure how to say it, how to explain that her mother even being aware of her daughter’s name felt like something she didn’t want to share. An insight into her life she didn’t want to give her, a breaking of her own rules that she’d set so many months ago.

“I get it,” he says, his voice soft, soothing her even though he wasn’t with her, “I won’t tell her anything I don’t think you’ll be comfortable with.”

She sighs, feeling slight relief this time, “Thank you. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies, and she hears shuffling on the other end as if he was moving, determined to do what he had to as quickly as he could so he could get back to her, “I’ll see you soon, okay?”

She strokes a finger down Lily’s cheek, smiling at the softness of her skin, more determined than ever that she was doing the right thing. “Okay.”

___

Calling Emily had been the first thing he did, but the very last thing he’d wanted to do.

For a moment, a very brief one, he’d considered not telling her. Thoughts he couldn’t quite shake off telling him that he should go get Elizabeth, drop her home and then never tell his wife, not wanting to cause the upset this undoubtedly would, but he knows he can’t do that. Honesty was important to them both, and even though the very last thing he wanted to do was hurt Emily, he knew this was best coming from him.

When he gets to the police station it doesn’t take long for the police officers there to hand Elizabeth over to him. Familiar looks of dismay on their faces that she always managed to draw out of everyone she wished to, something that in other circumstances he’s sure would make him laugh.

He doesn’t miss how she stares at his left hand as he shakes the hand of the cop who’d called him, her eyes fixed on the wedding ring he hadn’t been wearing the last time they saw each other.

It felt like a different lifetime now. Emily’s pregnancy still early on enough that she was only showing a little, Lily safely tucked up inside of her, her hormones all over the place as she made the decision to cut her mother off. Putting her baby, the one she was still months away from meeting at the time, ahead of everything else. A feat Elizabeth had seemingly never been able to manage.

They walk in silence to the car, Aaron’s fists clenched at his sides as he watches Elizabeth’s eyes linger on the car seat in the back before she climbs into the passenger side. Once he’s driving, the police station disappearing in the rearview mirror, she finally speaks to him, acknowledging him for the first time.

“Thank you for picking me up.”

He grunts, clutching the steering wheel tight enough for a moment that his knuckles go white, “I didn’t do it for you.”

She clears her throat, the silence in the car awkward, cloying. Thick in his throat in a way that makes him swallow thickly.

“So…you really did get married.”

He looks down at his hand, the band that matched Emily’s shining up at him, before he looks back at the road, “We did,” he replies, curiosity that had lingered in his belly since he’d been called finally winning out, “How did you know that?” He looks at her firefly and their eyes meet, and he sees the curiosity winning out, “The cop said you called me your son-in-law.”

“My ex-husband told me,” she replies, “Apparently Emily has a habit of kicking her parents out of her life,” she adds wryly.

The anger he feels flashes through him, hot and sharp as he clenches his teeth, his words forced out through them, “You don’t get to speak about her like that,” he says, holding the steering wheel so tightly he’s surprised he doesn’t snap it, “You never get to speak about her like that.”

If Elizabeth has an issue with that she doesn’t say anything, instead, she casts a glance into the back of the car at the car seat, the movement enough to make the smell of wine on her breath wash over him. It unlocks a memory from his childhood, the scent immediately replaced with scotch for a moment, and he wants nothing more than for this to be done with so he can go home and hug his wife and daughter.

“She had the baby then?”

He’s good enough at his job to know that the way she tries to sound like she doesn’t care is fake, that beneath it all is someone who wants to know about her grandchild, about how her daughter is doing, and he wants to shake her.

“Yes. She did.”

They fall into silence again and Elizabeth laughs wryly, “That’s all I’m going to get? Not a name or a hint of if I have a grandson or granddaughter.”

“That’s all you are going to get,” he says sternly, making sure she knows he’s serious, “Emily asked me not to tell you anything else.”

Elizabeth scoffs and shakes her head, “She’s always been one for the dramatics.”

“She’s been a mother for 14 days and she’s already better at it than you have ever been in almost 40 years.”

Elizabeth glares at him, her gaze burning into the side of his head. He turns to look at her for a moment before focusing back on the road. Her anger was clear, her jaw tight in a way Emily’s always was when she was angry.

“You can’t speak to me like that.”

“Yes. I can. She’s my wife. She…” Aaron trails off, clutching the steering wheel even tighter, knowing he was edging on breaking his promise to his wife that he’d made when they first started dating that he wouldn’t get involved, “She deserves better,” it’s his turn to scoff, “She deserves better than a mother who puts everything ahead of her again and again.”

“She’s an adult.”

“She gave you part of her liver,” he says, bringing up the one thing he knows Emily and Elizabeth had only spoken about once since it happened, part of the wrought final conversation they’d had with her months ago, “She saved your life and you don’t even have the decency to admit you have a problem.”

“I had a glass of wine with lunch.”

“You can keep telling yourself that,” he says looking at her again, “You can keep saying Emily is being dramatic for cutting you off. But today you were lucky. You could have lost your career if you were charged,” he shakes his head at her, a humourless laugh escaping, “And I think that would have been the wake up call you needed. Not your daughter, your only child, the person who saved your life last time, begging you to stop. Not the fact you won’t ever meet your grandchild if this carries on. But the fact you could have lost the job that you’ve always put ahead of everything.”

He knows he’s edging on breaking his longstanding promise to his wife, that he’s risking saying too much, but he also knows he can’t walk away from this without saying something.

“Are you really saying you believe a woman can’t do it all?” She asks, an edge of sarcasm to her voice, “I doubt my daughter would have ever married someone who believed that, let alone have a baby with him.”

He has to take a deep breath, his anger licking at his insides again, and he’s grateful they are almost back at hers, the hard-earned control of his emotions reaching its end.

“Women can. You didn’t.” He says firmly, purposely not looking at her as he feels her gaze burning into the side of his head again as he turns onto her street, “You didn’t raise her. She never came first to you,” he adds, pulling the car up onto her driveway, putting it into park but not switching off the engine, making it clear he wasn’t planning on staying, “But she does come first to me. Her and the kids. And she always will.”

For a moment, he wonders if she’s going to say something, but she doesn’t. The click of her seatbelt loud in the car quickly followed by the door opening. He hears her heeled shoes hit the gravel, and then there’s another pause.

“Thank you, Aaron.”

He looks at her, his gaze stern, “I already told you, this wasn’t for you-”

“Not for that,” she says, cutting him off, hooking her purse over her shoulder, “For loving my daughter.”

He clenches his teeth to stop himself from saying that he didn’t do that for her either. Instead, he nods, and she smiles tightly at him before she closes the car door, disappearing into the house that had never quite been home for the woman he loves.

___

The relief Emily feels when she hears the front door open is palpable. Tension seeping out of her body as she relaxes further into the bed.

She’d brought Lily up to put her down to sleep, but hadn’t been able to bring herself to leave her until Aaron got home, desperately needing her little girl nearby to calm her down. A familiar mix of anger, disappointment and sadness churning deep in her gut, a feeling she had once hoped she’d left behind.

It takes Aaron less than a minute to make his way upstairs. She stands up just as he walks into the bedroom, and he’s barely through the door before she’s in his arms, his arms tighter around her than they had been in weeks, any lingering concern about hurting her gone.

She buries her face in his chest and she shudders, desperately trying to ignore the slight smell of her mother’s perfume that seemed to cling to him. A visceral reaction as everything she’d held in since he’d called escapes, her body sagging against his. She’s grateful she’s no longer pregnant, that she can be this close to him, something she’d missed more than she’d admit in the later stages of her pregnancy.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he says, kissing the top of her head whilst he runs his hand up and down her back, “I’ve got you.”

He isn’t sure how long they stand there. When he pulls back to look at her she smiles shakily at him and he wipes tears from her cheeks before he guides her to the bed, both of them sitting on the edge of it, their thighs pressed together. He wraps his arm around her shoulder and pulls her closer and he looks behind them at the basinet, smiling softly at the sight of their daughter fast asleep.

“Is she okay?” He asks, and Emily nods against him, sniffing as she wipes at her cheeks again, the tears seemingly never stopping now he is home.

“She’s okay,” she says, tilting her head to smile up at him, “She missed you today,” her smile becomes shaky, “Hell of a first day back at work.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, thinking of how he’d had to drag himself from their side this morning, determined to have an easy day at work so he could make it back home as soon as possible, “Do you…want to talk about it?”

She blows out a breath and shrugs, “No. Yes,” she shakes her head at herself as she lets out a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, “I don’t know,” she rests her head on his shoulder, tilting it so she’s looking up at him, “Did she seem…apologetic?”

He sighs and shakes his head, “No, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t tell her about the things Elizabeth had said, well aware they were all things she would have heard before. He didn’t want to pick at wounds that had already been torn open this evening, didn’t want to be the salt that made them sting.

She feels a sob catch in her chest, reaching to wipe another tear from her cheek, “ I kind of wish she’d been charged.” Emily asks, wiping a tear from her cheek, “If it had hit the press her job would have been at risk and…I think that’s the only thing that would make her stop,” she shakes her head and sighs, “Not having any contact with her only kid doesn’t seem to have made any difference. Is that bad?”

“Of course not, Em,” he says, cupping her cheek and running his thumb over her skin, “I’d feel the same way.”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head at herself, cursing under her breath, “Shit, Aaron. I’m sorry. I know it can’t have been easy for you to go.”

On some level, she hates that they have this in common. That one of their intertwined threads came from understanding how it felt to be raised by someone who chose alcohol above everything else, the desire to be better parents than the ones they had. But a selfish part of her likes it. She likes that they don’t have to explain this in any way, that they understand the darkest parts of each other.

“Sweetheart, you have nothing to apologise for,” he assures her, leaning in to press a kiss against her lips, “I’d do anything for you, you know that.”

She nods, the guilt not fully stamped out, and she reaches up to push his hair from his forehead, “I’d do anything for you too.”

He kisses her again before he pulls her in for a hug, trying and failing to hide a smile when he hears her stomach gurgle. “Want me to go sort dinner? I’m going to assume you haven’t eaten.”

She rolls her eyes but doesn’t deny it, “In a minute, okay? Let’s just say like this for a bit.”

Aaron nods and kisses the top of her head, content to hold her as long as she needs, wanting nothing more than to make her feel better.

“We can stay here as long as you want, sweetheart.”

Any response is cut off by Lily crying, a sound followed by both of her parents laughing, and Emily smiles at him, stamping a kiss to his lips before she stands up.

“She certainly has impressive timing.”

He watches as she picks up Lily, talking in the hushed tones she seemed to reserve for their daughter and Jack, and it only confirms what he’d said to Elizabeth earlier.

Emily was a better mother than she’d ever been.

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my Tag List here!

#aaron hotchner #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfic #aaron x emily #hotchniss fanfiction #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #hotchniss

45 notes · View notes

zealotpara · 20 days ago

Text

You've Got This (fan song) | Rapunzel's Tangled Adventure Brain Rot

I have issues. I spent two hours last night between the ungodly hours of 2-4 AM writing a reprise of I've Got This from Tangled the Series/Rapunzel’s Tangled Adventure.

Why did I do this instead of getting a good night’s rest? I wish I knew. I have this issue where my best ideas come to me when I’m trying to fall asleep and I will spend literally hours doing stuff like this until I basically pass out from exhaustion. This is not by choice. I am a prisoner of my own subconscious self.

I really like I’ve Got This, but I wish there was a reprise at some point in the series with a happier conclusion because that chorus brings me so much joy and has untapped potential. So I came up with the idea of a version that plays when Raps has been queen for a while and has a good handle on her kingdom. And then it turned into this goofy plot about a bunch of fuzzy creatures overwhelming the kingdom and Raps struggling with trying to solve the issue without forcing the fuzzies to leave because she thinks they’re cute.I would love it if one day people who can sing in the voices of these characters could get together and bring my little song to life. If anyone is interested in doing so, please contact me at [email protected]. I'd like to explain to you exactly how I imagine the song sounding in my head. If I had the skill or health to record it myself, I would, but that's not something I can do right now with my disability. Also I'm a guy and even if I did become a master vocalist my voice could only go so far and wouldn't be able to sound anywhere close to the female characters. I don't know anything about song structure, but hopefully you can understand what parts of my song are supposed to sound similar to the original. Here's the original I've Got This song for reference as to how it generally would sound (my version is much longer)

And here is the instrumental, in case anyone wants to maybe take this and edit it to hell to fit with my version.

And here is my Tangled brain rot on full display. You've Got This:

Rapunzel: Royal decision-making

Now I’m accustomed to it

I’ve got a town that needs me

And friends to help me do it

Bring it on I’m ready ‘cause I’ve got this

I’ve got this

No sweat

Nigel (he only speaks): O Queen Rapunzel

Once again, your most humble subjects Male Citizen #1:

These new creatures strolled in like they own the place overnight Raps: (hm) Male Citizen #2:

How can I catch any sleep with fuzzies in my eyes! Achoo! Male Citizen #3:

Last night I was eating when my bowl was full of frizzies! Female Citizen:

Please would you address our plight?

Raps: (Hold tight!)

Raps:

Pass this on to all, we’ll build new homes for frizz and fuzz

Ergo, we’ll need lots of food to calm their little buzz Citizens: (Check!)

Go on fetch them hither, bring me all these crazy critters

We’ll make homes for everyone

Done? Citizens: (Yeah!)

Yes! This sounds like fun

Eugene:

She’s really come a long way

I know that Cass would be proud

I just wish we had her help ‘cause

Their buzzing, gosh it’s so loud

I don’t know how but I guess I’ve got this

I’ve got this, let’s go

Rapunzel:

Is that the last fuzz?

Eugene:

Well, not exactly

Rapunzel! (Eugene and everyone being buried in fuzzies)

Male Citizen #1:

Things have gotten crazy, there’s just not enough room to spare Raps: (no where?) Male Citizen #3:

I’m still getting frizzies in my food and everywhere (really?) Pete:

The treasury’s been ransacked Stan:

Now they’re dressed in royal “this and that” Lance:

Everybody’s lost their hair Shorty:

I can’t find my shoes

(sad slow section) Raps:

Gotta say I’ve been knocked down a peg

I’m at a loss for answers

I just don’t see a better way

The fuzzies must go elsewheres

I know I’ve been through worse but it’s hopeless

There’s no chance they’ll stay (Half sing, half taking) Raps:

That’s right, I have been through worse

This is the end? Who’s to say?

(Energy returns):

That’s right, I’m Queen Rapunzel

It’s not a fluke I’m here, man

My friends are all so awesome

Let’s see what they’ve got for plans

Everybody get up ‘cause I know you’ve got this

We’ve got this, think hard

Varian:

I discovered frizzies eat polite if you ask nice Raps: (okay!)

They can make us freezers ‘cause their breath is cold as ice Raps: (brr)

They’ll make lovely sweaters ‘cause don’t worry, they shed like feathers Raps: (cozy)

They’re an alchemist’s delight

Raps: (That’s the spirit, Varian!)

(Extra energetic) Raps:

Everybody thinks we blew it, but I’m sayin’ hup! get to it

Don’t you know there’s more of you to give? You’ve got this

We’ve got this. You’re smart

Xavier: They’re so great for cleaning they don’t moan or cry or whine Raps: (great!)

Mrs. Crowley: Their feet are so wonderful for stretching my old spine Raps: (crack!)

Kiera and Katalina: I love to play with frizzies they’re so cute and fun and silly Raps: (aww)

Lance wearing fuzzies as a blinking wig: Where have they been all my life? Raps: (right?)

Raps:

See, folks that’s what I’ve picked up

It’s a most important lesson

Just gotta keep your chin up

And you will find your blessin’

Change your outlook see the light and know you’ve got this

You’ve got this, my friends

Male Citizen #2: Achoo!

#tts #tangled #tangled the series #tangled rapunzel #rapunzel #rapunzel's tangled adventure #fan song #You've got this

2 notes · View notes

fayemouse · 25 days ago

Text

You almost wish they didn't follow you.

But they did, and they followed your clinical instruction to slide off the top half of their jumpsuit. And you certainly kept it utterly professional as you confirmed your assumptions about the musculature of their back.

Something else -- it's always something else -- is what you can't pull your eyes from.

Sure, you found what you thought you were looking for: a milcorp brand over a plasteel port. You could scour his hand-written books, still gathering dust behind you, if you wanted to identify the owner. The was the whole reason you wanted your little shiprat half-naked in his bed, right?

On the contrary. There's something you've never seen before.

Lights.

Soft bands of glowing lights, right under their flesh. White and blue and orange, cycling in a smooth gradient that follows criss-crossed lashes.

"W-What is it? You… you said something."

You must have, huh.

You weren't even the slightest bit prepared for this, were you, "Captain." Maybe he would have been.

It'd be one thing if you could begin to explain what you see to them. How do you tell someone that their back is lit up like the jumpspace that just flipped their stomach.

Focus. You've got a way to try to make any sense of this. It's not much to turn on your scanner. Your headache worsens as your vision is filled with a staticky HUD.

Of course, it doesn't identify the kind of augment. That'd be too easy. But it does trace the patterns to a point of convergence under their hairline. You take a deep breath, taking pictures for later study along the way.

You've been silent for far too long, lost in thought as your eyes wander over slightly too-taut muscles. Eventually, words find your mouth.

"I won't lie, shiprat. I don't know what I'm looking at. But…"

Scanner off; one last photograph as you trail off.

"You can get dressed. I got everything I needed."

You didn't. You didn't get anything, and if you did, you wouldn't understand any of it.

Nevertheless, they obediently follow your orders before asking a more specific, a more incisive version of the question they asked minutes ago.

"Captain, what did you find?"

"Lights."

Gods, it sounded so dumb that way. You're not totally sure what you wanted it to sound like, but it was certainly not that.

You could have angled towards a sherlockian definitiveness, strong consonants and perfunctory vowels that showed the depths of your expertise. Or aimed for a breathy astronomer's wonder, this curiosity overwhelming your sternness.

Instead, it was just a flat, befuddled, no-deception answer. A less kind person would have ignored it. True to the version of them you've built up in your head, they press on.

"But what does it mean?"

If only you knew.

They pull their jumpsuit back over their shoulders. It hangs slightly unzipped, showcasing their collarbone. They sit next to you with a look that makes it clear they didn't expect you to learn anything more than they did. Their hand reaches up, and gods, if only you could stop time right now.

Just a moment later, their hand falls on your shoulder. It lingers over a roughly replaced ball joint, broken years ago. Fingers trace over the circuitry that connects glands and medullas to a port that seethes and burns with hunger.

Gods, this is all wrong. You should be comforting them. They're the one that lost their only link to reality almost a full solar cycle ago. They can't remember why that person was so important. They can't even come up with their name.

It's not right. They comfort you. You who's been nothing but play-acting like you have a handle on things. You who is still wounded not from rationing canisters, not from the pressure of lancing, but from the whole reason you two can even sit on your-- dammit, you can't even say it silently to yourself.

They press on. They force their comfort through your walls.

You close your eyes. Another deep breath rises in your chest.

It has been a while, hasn't it, "Captain."

You shift and turn to face them, heavy-lidded eyes opening to watch their hand fall from its perch. It glances down your flight suit across zippers and pouch flaps. Your own arm relaxes, leading your fingers to feel the faintest bit of fabric -- less rough and better cared for than your own.

As you breathe out, you stand. Not here. Not now.

Not them, you idiot.

#freelancer #writing through it #been a minute #stop making this a romance #i should reiterate the captain pees in their suit

2 notes · View notes

kpopimaginings · 2 years ago

Text

Long Week - Kyuhyun

A/N: So this is an anon request of Kyuhyun looking after you after a long week of work. I hope you enjoy!

There had been so much happening all week at work, and finally it was Friday. But even that wasn't much of a comfort. It was one of those busy days, where instead of going by really fast, it just dragged on and stressed you out. The second the clock indicated the end of the working day you were on your way out and calling your boyfriend.

"Hey, beautiful," Kyuhyun answered.

"Hey," you sighed in response, just the sound of his voice relaxing you.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately.

"Same old," you said, not really wanting to relive the day you had just had.

You could tell Kyuhyun was distracted as he replied, "Oh, dear."

"I'll let you go."

"No, its fine," he started but a clatter in the background told you it wasn't.

"Aish," he muttered under his breath.

"I'm on my way home, I'll see you in a second anyway. I just wanted to hear your voice."

"If you're sure. I'll see you really soon. I love you," he said, slightly rushed.

You shook your head as you hung up the phone, wondering what state the place would be in when you arrived home. Upon opening the door, however, you were pleasantly surprised. In fact, it look neater than it had when you'd left that morning.

"Welcome home," you heard your man's voice from somewhere within.

"What did you do, Kyu?" you called back.

"What do you mean?" he asked as he appeared in front of you.

"It's unnaturally clean in here," you pointed out. "Why are you cleaning? Are you apologising for something I don't know about yet?"

"No no no, I promise," he assured you, stepping forward to take your bag and then your jacket.

"Ok, I love you and this is all very sweet but-"

"Shush," he cut in. "Just calm down. You're home now, you can just relax."

Somehow, Kyuhyun's words had the intended effect this time. As you removed your shoes, you finally felt like you could start to unwind. He took your hand and lead you through to the dining table.

"Kyu," you said in a soft breath. "Why?"

The table was laid will still steaming food, a spread of everything he knew you loved. The lights were dim and a few candles scattered around.

"As much as I love being someone you can vent to, hearing how much you've hated this week got me down so, now that the working week is done, I'm going to treat you like the princess you are."

Suddenly, everything made sense. Normally, you would cook when you got in, then tidy up the kitchen, then any other chores that needed doing, then clean up ready for bed. But this evening he had done it all for you. The beauty of having a boyfriend with an irregular job, sometimes he was home while you worked and could sort everything out for you.

In that moment, stood there beside your wonderful other half, it all overwhelmed you. After everything at work, feeling like a cog in a machine rather than a human being, you got to come home to the perfect evening.

"Jagi, I didn't want to make you cry," Kyu said, wiping at one of the tears on your cheek.

You smiled at him, "Good tears, I promise. I can't believe you did all of this for me."

Smiling back, he just pulled you close and held you for a moment.

"And when we're done, I'll draw you a bath so that you can relax while I do all the washing up and then for the rest of the night, I'm all yours, we can do whatever you like. Anything that will make you happy or relaxed."

"You are actually perfect," you told him, melting into his embrace.

"If you say so," he chuckled in reply.

NAVIGATION | SUPER JUNIOR MASTERLIST

47 notes · View notes

kadavernagh · 8 months ago

Text

TIMING: Immediately after Jade and Regan reunite LOCATION: The cabin PARTIES: Regan and Jade SUMMARY: Regan has wings. Jade didn't know.

“Had.” Regan corrected, with one stark word.

Jade could not figure out how long she sat on the edge of the bed. It could’ve been seconds, it could’ve been hours. She thought her eyes closed at some point, she believed she slept. Or maybe that didn’t happen. Maybe her exhaustion came with hallucinations, or like… a delayed fever from everything her body went through last week was messing with her. Nope, no sleep. It wouldn’t happen. Cause if she closed her eyes. If she slept, she was pretty sure nightmares were on the menu. It would be her, holding the scalpel. It would be Regan replacing the entomid on the forest ground. There would be no sedation, just her howling in pain as Jade tore through her wings. (Regan had wings).

So she totally didn’t sleep (apparently?), but Jade stared at the wall letting time pass. Waiting. The light slowly dying inside the room was the only way to tell she hadn’t frozen. That this was real. That Regan was here and she had wings (?) and she… Jade didn’t register new weight on the bed. Shameful. Was she even Jade anymore? (Actually, maybe Regan wouldn’t want that Jade anymore). She turned, bending one leg to get a better look at Regan, but the lack of light made it harder to figure out what she was feeling. (Should she flip on the lamp’s switch?)

“I got overwhelmed,” Jade admitted, voice embarrassingly small. But it was true. Partly. She needed better conversational foreplay to reach the levels of soggy honesty required for this convo, but she would. She would. Regan deserved honesty. Jade reached for her face, her thumb brushing over her lips. “But I’m not… not going anywhere,” another truth (a promise, really). “Talk to me, please. I missed you, so much. I was so worried… I–” Oh yup, there were the tears again.

—

Jade didn’t come. Regan stood with her palm against the half-open door and listened for any noise in the cabin, but there was none; even the quiet buzz of the generator was lost in the loud silence. Jade left. This had been too much for Jade and she left. Regan let the dark living room swallow her up, only hearing her bare footsteps on the wooden floor, and she was more than willing to trade sight for not needing to see the sharp edges of weapons that hadn’t looked like they belonged in Jade’s hands. She called out Jade’s name again, uncertain (which was different than calling for her – Regan was not a child… she wouldn’t do that twice.) No answer. She turned the corner into the bedroom and cautiously nudged the door fully open. Her whole body shivered and she wasn’t sure if it was because of cold air on damp skin or because– no, she heard a breath. Which in any other context would have been an alarming thing to hear come out of your dark bedroom, where you stood apparently alone.

Before she could… think about that, process it, she needed to let autopilot take over. There were still enough clothes in here that she found what she needed in the moon-carved light coming through the window, but decided to keep a fresh towel around her in lieu of shirt attempts. Her trapezius would thank her.

She turned to Jade. Sitting on her bed, managing to be both alert and someplace else entirely at the same time. Slowly, Regan lowered herself – or at least her bottom half – onto the bed, the rest of her pin straight. She’d figure out lying down after she slept. (Something about that logic tied a knot in her head, ganglions tangling, but she didn’t examine it.) Actually, the mattress took her and she thought she might never get up again. Like a pit of– no. No. Regan was on her belly immediately, and inhaled the familiar scent of the sheets. Slightly dusty. Not in a basement. Not in a house she was afraid to fall asleep in. The best in the world right now.

Regan didn’t expect Jade to say anything (and she didn’t need to, really). When she did, it didn’t sound much like her at all. Not a single joke. Her ever-flowing river of humor dried up. “I know.” Regan mumbled against the sheets. I’m sorry I showed you almost formed in her mouth. “Th–” She could say it. She wasn’t there anymore. “Thank you for helping.” I should have figured out a way to do it myself. She barely reacted to Jade’s touch. How much worse would this have been if they hadn’t been cut? “And for staying.” You don’t have to see them again. “I'm sorry.”

Regan buried her cheek in the pillow – not to cry, her tear ducts were as dry as Jade’s well of jokes – but just to sigh, pull in the biggest breath she could against the linens, and remind herself what sleep tonight could feel like. It wasn’t time yet though. She gave Jade a tired, upward glance. Jade barely slept, even on a good night. She wouldn’t sleep at all tonight. She’d be asking what if in her head, that beautiful brain, over and over and over again. Regan would rather Jade ask her questions. Not to try and slay the impossible that were her own thoughts.

“I did think about you every day, even when I tried not to. Especially when I tried not to. I do here, too. How could I think that would change?” She hated that there was a time she had tried not to think about Jade. Regan hesitated, then reached out an arm, hand landing clumsily on Jade’s thigh. She was not getting up. The mattress would take her like a bog. She would become a mattress body. (Actually, those were just cadavers).

“You can ask about them.” The wings. Because Regan thought Jade’s heart might spin out of her chest if she said that word. Except… did she know what they were? She might not have. What if she just thought they were strange, ugly, bleeding– well, they were all of those. “It happened yesterday. Banshees do not kill each other.” She remembered thinking that as her eyes mapped Siobhan’s scars, thinking of the cruelty behind each and every one of them, sharp and dull, shallow and deep, and wondering if Siobhan had wished to die at some point, if there had been one scar too many, and if death might have been better in that moment. She thought of her grandmother who would be sinking no more than a few millimeters a week. How far would her nose be from the tar before she thought such a thing? But it didn’t matter. Because banshees did not kill each other.

—

Her eyes, better accustomed to the night light once she like, started using them, followed Regan as she flopped onto the bed in her belly, like a fish. She and the mattress became one. But Jade didn’t get to feel endeared by the action for too long, cause Regan’s words cut through her. Thank you for helping. Did she help? It didn’t feel like she helped anybody these days. Or like her help was needed at all. Even Regan she had left unfinished. And why was Regan sorry? Could someone enter through the window and twist a knife in her belly again? She’d prefer that to this pain. “Don’t be sorry,” she pleaded, finding the hand Regan pawed at her. “You did nothing wrong” and yup, it was probably not the thing to say when Regan had mentioned all those mistakes she made (allegedly) (she’d debate every single one). “Tonight. You haven’t done anything wrong. Actually, you did the rightest thing, coming here. To me”.

Gravity did its thing, and Jade found herself more comfortable lying down on her left side (the good side), hoping it’d be easier for Regan. She scooted closer, a hand reaching underneath the towel. Fingertips resting against her waist. Relief. Jade melted again, she felt her heart leak somewhere in her chest. Like her feelings were being stored in some new organ. What was this? Regan would know if she described it. Or she could name the new organ. But all that mattered was that Jade felt anatomically changed anytime Regan was near (would that be weird to say?). “Not to make it a competition. But I’m positive everybody in town knows I’m in love with you”. She whispered, still surprised she could say it. No fear of Regan rejecting her warmth. “I was…” she retrieved her hand for a second, bringing her index and thumb together, “a little mopey” she huffed a teary laugh. And right, a little levity only to be slammed by the severity of the conversation. Regan was allowing questions about it. Which, knowing Regan, Jade totally appreciated (even if she was scared of the answers).

She had too many of them. How did they work? And why did they cut them? Would they grow back? And… banshees didn’t kill each other, what did that mean exactly? Was this punishment then? Those were rational questions, but Jade’s heart was tender, so the most human one won. “You have wings… Why didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you… I asked… about your third leg.”

—

The rightest thing, hm? Regan would have liked to muster a smile at that. No one in Saol Eile spoke like Jade – as frequently, or with such Jade-isms. It was all “what would your grandmother think?” and “no wonder they say you’re a child”. Never that she had done the rightest thing, or even the right thing. Regan tugged her a little closer, and Jade needed no convincing to slide up next to her, though once more, Regan couldn’t help but notice some likely discomfort in the way she moved. Something with her right shoulder. Her hand ghosted over the right side of Jade’s neck, and she was careful not to move her fingers down further. Just a hint that she noticed.

She eyed where Jade’s hand was going – a slight flare of concern that Jade was going to try to touch the bandage – but her hand landed lower, warming her skin instead. This time it didn’t mean wait. It was easy and assured and a curious thing, considering the abrupt exit from the bathroom. Some of Regan’s confidence bubbled back. “You’d like to make it a competition. We’re both rather sore losers, though, I think.” Something about being a younger sister. But at the sentiment, Regan’s blood coagulated, getting gooey and viscous as her heart pumped it, bringing the warmth left by Jade’s hand up to her cheeks. Wicked’s Rest could know. Though, would they think poorly of Jade for being… ring finger partners with a cold, stuck-up doctor? (The idea that the reverse might be true wasn’t something she humored even for a moment – no one disliked Jade.)

“You? Mope? The only time I’ve seen you mope was when I said I wouldn’t watch that Power Rangers movie with you. And then I did, because you moped. Such is the power of your facial muscles. I still don’t understand why they were in the Mesozoic. The Rangers. Not the muscles.” Regan considered. “Actually, I have also seen you mope over ice cream flavors, a single molecule of pollen getting on your skin, me talking about Bill Nye and that especially curvy femur, and that time your broom fell over. I expect you had your every whim catered to?” She’d learn more later and figure out who needed to receive the roadkill equivalent of a thank you.

Regan kept her tired eyes locked to Jade’s, and though she couldn’t see well with such little light, she was positive they had to be equally tired. Sleep taunted her again. But she’d stay up another full night if it meant more of this, especially after so long away and then being convinced she’d nearly lost Jade right after coming back. Regan propped her head up with an elbow to remind herself to stay awake. Her other hand ended up in Jade’s hair. She only had decades to appreciate it (Jade’s skeleton wouldn’t have hair). So the hair could have her hand just as the mattress entombed her body.

All of that thick blood clogged Regan’s heart up at the question Jade asked. It had been the first thing Regan wondered about in the bathroom, before her mind skipped ahead to so many other possibilities that might have been more her own thoughts than anyone else’s. Why didn’t you tell me? A secret between two people who valued honesty when privacy did not stand in the way, and sure, both of them might have the tendency to omit details here and there, but, well, hadn’t Regan known this was something big enough to bring up? Yes. And she had labored over it, and then had not. So Jade wanted the why. The why had been with Regan for a long time. And when she had finally released it (mostly – her hands were still ready to grab it back), it was too late.

At least Jade knew what they once were. Her hand slowed in the tangle of Jade’s hair. “Had.” Regan corrected, with one stark word. It bunched up under her tear ducts, pushing some of that dreaded, human liquid out. Wings weren’t a third leg. It also wouldn’t have been fair to point that out. “I thought… because you and bug wings, you know? And I was… I didn’t like thinking about… what if you were…” Disgusted. She swallowed the word. Why was that one harder to say out loud than anything else? “It seemed like you– tonight, I mean, I thought– but it didn’t make sense, because I knew before I left. That I could. But then there were mice, and lemmings, and drinks in plastic cups, and–” Regan sucked in a breath before her exhalation could become anything resembling a sob. “–and I don’t like them very much. I didn’t think you would either.” Which was a subject far too complicated to fully cover in a single, exhausted conversation.

“You, when you left, you seemed…” There was that word again, bumping up against her teeth. They shook from the impact. “You’re not, right?”

—

“That’s cause I never lose, I have to keep my streak,” Jade explained, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world (as if it were true). The way Regan seemed a little stunted by her admission, then flushed was making it super hard for Jade to stick to the plot and not bury her face in the crook of Regan’s neck. Sleep for an hour. Or eight. But it was the slander that brought back some fire in here. “Um... You make it sound like I mope a lot. Which, I totally don’t? That’s pft…no way. And you’d understand why they had to be in the Mesozoic if you didn’t have to ‘close your eyes’ for a bit. I could hear you snoring,” the smile pulling at her lips was inevitable, as was her body inching closer. It was just what Regan did to her. And in turn, Jade felt a hand venture into her hair, her eyelids fluttering close at the light touch. Enough about moping. Yup, she could fall asleep just like this. Regan knew how weak she was for any type of hair pet. Did she want her to purr? She would! Just… oh, her eyes opened begrudgingly, when Regan’s fingertips slowed down. Okay. Talking time.

Had. Jade could’ve seen the correction coming all the way from Ireland, Regan was predictable like that. Her hand felt too heavy against Regan’s lower back to reach out and wipe the tears welling up in her eyes. But maybe that was for the best. Cause crying was good. And Regan had stopped herself from doing so for way too long, she must be so emotionally constipated. A beat passed, before Regan revealed the reasoning behind her omission, which was… so valid. In a way that pissed her off (not really, she could never stay mad at Regan too long). Why was she thinking of Jade’s comfort? (she knew why, it made her belly flutter). And sure, okay. Maybe she would’ve been a little spooked at hearing them buzz (did they buzz?) but that was like, an innate response, she would've been totally fine after realizing it was just Regan. For sure! She definitely didn’t flinch every time a fly passed by her. Not at all!

That was just one of the reasons, though. Apparently, Regan didn’t like her wings very much either, and Jade would have to ask why, but first, she really needed to clear the air between them, cause she had practically reacted the way Regan had feared. But like, for completely different reasons. Regan’s small sign of distress sent Jade into comfort mode immediately. Her palm, otherwise flat against Regan’s skin, started tracing a gentle pattern. “Hey, that’s not… You could have three pairs of wings, you could be wearing cargo pants for shirts, you could be floating on a tiny little plane at all times… and I’d still love you. I’d still want you. But please, don’t wear cargo pants like that,” she moved past her own attempt at lightening the mood, eyebrows furrowed in contemplation. She’d already lost Van. Would she lose Regan too? It would’ve been so easy to fall back into lies, Jade felt the comfortable pull. But she said she’d try. “There’s… something I’ll have to tell you, I’m not lying to you. It’s, like super present in my mind. But I can’t get into it now… cause, I need to know what happened in Ireland. I mean you look like this, someone did this…” Her throat tightened, as the image of Regan’s back flashed in her head. “But I’ve…made mistakes too, is what I’m getting at. I prom… I will tell you, even if…” I lose you, the words caught in her throat. She swallowed. “I’ll tell you. Not tonight.” Or maybe tonight, if Regan pressed just a bit harder. She’d do anything she wanted. But first, “how did they cut your wings? Why? Who?” And there was something else, something she now had to wonder cause of what she’d done to the entomid. “Are you… will you always be in pain?”

—

Why would I have three pairs of wings, Regan almost asked, but that wasn’t really the point. And why did that one seem the strangest out of the other two options Jade posed? She didn’t own a single pair of cargo pants. Or a tiny plane. None of that was important. Jade was saying… but how true was it? Jade had left the bathroom. She had tried to fight disgust and she left. But now she was here, and saying this, and– what else could Regan do but believe her? “I’m not going to wear any pants for shirts,” Regan whispered into Jade, the strangeness of the comment, especially murmuring it in a bed next to the woman she loved as a soft reassurance, only half-occuring to her. And she was too tired to be offended by her own whispering, or consider that maybe, as a human, she could do it anyway. “I have never loved anyone more.” It was a simple thing to declare. Objective, even, in her preferred sense of viewing the world. She could measure her love for Jade against any other individual and it didn’t compare. In a major reversal, Jade stood taller than anyone. She couldn’t remember a pre-Jade time of her life. So was it forgiven? Did Regan completely, utterly believe all of this? Of course. Yes. Regan would never think about it again. Yes. Certainly. Completely.

But there was more, and Regan studied the conflict knotting on Jade’s face. What… what did Jade want to tell her? No, have to tell her. What mistake? Whatever it was, it seemed big. It had to be, or Jade would have already told her. Or would just say it now. (Or it happened while Regan was away and Jade recognized how not capable Regan currently was at taking in any information whatsoever – also a possibility.) “You… don’t have wings too, right? Or is this about you not having them, because you think I’m accustomed to everyone having them now? I think you have the perfect, most–” Her brow furrowed right back at Jade’s. She could tell immediately that was not it. She was also not cool enough to play it off as a joke, and it was not the time for sloppy hypothesizing. Whatever this was, Jade was serious about it. And as Regan’s eyes found her purple lip again, even in the dark, she had an unsettling weight distributed through her stomach that this was connected in some way. “...Okay. I will wait. But you did the conversational equivalent of taking an electric saw to my calvarium and then leaving the skull cap on.” Jade would follow that well enough, right? Again– yes, certainly, completely. “When you’re ready, my ears will function for you, and my skull will be opened.”

Regan’s voice was dry and tight with exhaustion, her head heavy, but this couldn’t be a morning conversation at this point (and she might sleep until the afternoon, anyway; she’d concede to her body on that point). She kept running her fingers through Jade’s hair because it was warm and soft and Jade and she hadn’t had any of those things for too long (had Jade, either?). She took a deep breath as the memories from the last few days stormed up. “I’ll try. Scalpel. It was a sentence, a punishment. Another banshee did it. I was on trial, and– oh, I stayed two nights in a jail before this, so that might explain– I know this is– we’ll discuss later, but a human boy died, and it was because of a lie I told, and my pubic defender didn’t– it didn’t…” When she thought of the pubis, she was there on the stage again, sea of banshees casting judgement. Regan closed her eyes, melting them away, and hadn’t realized until she felt Jade’s breath warm against her cheek that she’d reeled her in a little closer. Jade was staying here, wasn’t she? Oh, she was also likely confused about why banshees would punish anyone for the death of a human. “They didn’t care about the lost life. They considered it a waste of blood.”

Jade’s question shook Regan a little more alert. She had figured Jade would want to know what happened, but not about the future. Could she pull Jade any closer than she already was? Yes, as it turned out, but it still wasn’t enough, because the covers were made out of fabric instead of Jade. “Will I… they hurt because… you saw what they look like right now. But they were cut.” She thought of Blinne, of the way her back ached so badly she barely noticed the dagger in it. And she thought of Siobhan, who let her pain fester into something ugly inside of her. “They weren’t pulled out, removed by the muscle. That might always hurt. Would, probably, in one way or another.” Jade said three pairs of wings wouldn’t change anything. She said that. And what could Regan believe in, if not the soft hand against her back? But Jade was saying that when there were no wings. So Regan braced herself, unsure whether to look Jade right in the eyes or flick hers away. Her body decided on the former, but she spoke slowly, uncertain, like she was asking permission. “They might grow back.”

—

Jade was relieved to hear Regan would not be attempting any fashion statements, but her witty response was interrupted by an even more powerful declaration. Her breath hitched, which wasn’t like, unheard of in the presence of Regan, but it was worth noting anyway. From ‘I don’t want your warmth’ to ‘I have never loved anyone more’. Wow. Name better character evolution. “You’re good at it. The loving,” she whispered in equal softness, enjoying the intimacy of their closeness. And wasn’t that true? She thought of the Regan from that night at the hotel, or the one from the bog. The one from every Wednesday date, or even before… when she didn’t allow herself to let love out (hello, Regan the snail). It was always there, all-consuming. And she had the vibe Regan was only gonna get better. She would aim to overachieve, but in Jade’s eyes, she was already the best.

“No,” it wasn’t lost on her how serious it felt to use no, instead of nope. She itched to get back to her relaxed ways, but… she was so tired and, well maybe keeping her nonchalant talk took more effort than she’d realized. “No wings for me. It would’ve been super cute to match, though,” her gaze flickered to Regan’s right shoulder, thinking of the bandage on her belly too. “I guess we do in other ways…” she left it at that, nodding silently when Regan said she’d be all ears when Jade chose to speak her truth (paraphrasing). “I appreciate that, babe. Sorry for leaving your cap on,” she inched closer (somehow), pressing her lips lightly against Regan’s left shoulder.

Then came a rush of information for Jade to process quickly. Scalpel. Sentence. Punishment. Trial. Jail. A boy died. Pubic defender. Her eyes closed again, cause she was exhausted, but also cause Regan’s big sad eyes looking at her would have Jade jumping to validate all her mistakes. She wasn’t looking for that. So, processing. She almost blurted out, ‘I’m in love with a criminal’, she almost laughed like a hyena at the thought. But, too much effort. Plus, none of this was funny. It was just… the lack of sleep, you know? She opened her eyes again (how long were they closed for?), finding Regan’s. “Okay.” Okay, what? Sorry, still catching up. But if Regan was sentenced, then… “How… did you escape? Hold on, wait… did you say pubic?”

She felt Regan’s pull demanding more closeness and Jade could only oblige. Was it needy? Maybe. (Her left arm ended up lost between their bodies). They also hadn’t touched each other for a month, so. And actually, Regan’s unique warmth was exactly what she needed to brace herself for what she was about to hear. It felt like a sentence, heavy in her chest. The entomid would likely suffer her whole life, cause her wings were pulled out. Cause she helped Parker pull them out. She had… she didn’t think. But there was more, and she’d have to find time to deal with her guilt some other time, cause Regan offered hope. Her wings might grow back. “Good,” and there was no pretending she hadn’t been fighting back tears since she left the bathroom abruptly. So she released them, the rock in her throat dislodged. She sobbed in relief. “That’s good,” it was like a valve had opened. “I can’t wait… for them to flap again or… or even buzz, do they? I don’t care. I… I wanna see them”.

—

Exhausted as she was, Regan didn’t miss the clumsy processing of every word she was saying running through Jade’s eyes. Regan had an agonizing few days – weeks – a month – but she obviously wasn’t alone in that (matching, like Jade said, though referring to something more literal, which– no, tomorrow). So all things considered, Jade’s ability to follow this story was impressive. Even the Power Rangers were more linear. Regan nodded along. Necessary. Because it was only the force of gravity against her head keeping her awake. And if she closed her eyes, she wouldn’t be looking at Jade anymore. … Could Jade even see her through the thick layer of… acute pseudoallergies, in her eyes? Regan tracked a droplet down Jade’s skin. Once, this had made her fl– spring into a panic trying to sop it up. Now, maybe it was a good thing for Jade. But Regan still pulled the corner of her towel up as far as she could, giving Jade’s cheek a gentle pat, then offering it to her. If only a towel could soak up the swelling of her lip, too. Kissing it was at the top of her to-do list, though that wasn’t exactly an evidence-based treatment.

The tears were sudden and stubborn, like everything about Jade. They were also confusing. Confused had become Regan’s natural state. Was it guilt over walking out of the bathroom? Connected to that something Jade was going to tell her in the future? Another thought was clawed out from the darkest pit inside of her: Jade didn’t want them to grow back.

I can’t wait… I wanna see them.

Oh, no.

The bottom of Regan’s stomach dissolved. Wherever her intestines went, they were free-floating and loose. Her heart might have stopped. Then it worked five times as hard to catch up. What?

What? What? No. That wasn’t right. What? Can’t wait? See them? Not for the first time tonight, Jade’s words echoed so loudly in Regan’s head she was sure there wasn’t a brain in there to muffle them. She lifted her neck to study Jade, but the scalpel-sharp squeeze on her back made her drop back down. Where was the big swell of relief that should have filled her chest? Wasn’t all of this exactly what Jade should have said? The right thing? The loving thing? She had said it. So where was the swell Regan was supposed to feel? It was a narrowing instead, made of sharp icicles of dread.

Complicated. That was the word Regan reserved for her wings. She liked complicated, saw beauty in complicated, when it was the intricate story of someone’s organs laid bare in front of her, bright under the lights of the autopsy table. Or a solvable maze, or a treasure hunt through literature. And especially when it was how Jade’s irises changed under every form and shape of light and shadow. Regan did not like the kind of complicated that consisted of converging emotions and motives, messier than any roadkill, and when it was attached to her back by muscles that did not even have names.

Just remove them, Regan had told Siobhan. And Siobhan hadn’t, which was a kindness that did not particularly feel like one.

Jade wanted to see them. See them? With her eyeballs on her face? With her occipital lobe? Regan knew she probably resembled a cadaver right now with how stiff she’d gone (not entirely a bad thing). She could chalk it up to the state she was in, and it wouldn’t light her up like a lie. And… complicated. This was too… how… and why was she questioning herself now? Instead of Jade? How did that happen? Jade had a knack for flipping things around (mostly flipping her over) but not like this. And… and wasn’t her first thought behind that podium that Jade hadn't seen her wings? There had been grief. And… hadn’t she just been left in the bathroom, where she’d equated exactly what Jade had said now to Regan loving Jade down to her kidneys?

They might grow back. Why did it feel like a curse? It was out there, the truth, in Jade’s ears. She knew. After so many months. And her relief poured from her eyes, while Regan’s shriveled up like she’d lost something, besides the obvious. Like she’d lost some kind of exc– no, that was absurd. Tired. But, uh, Jade was going to think she was having a stroke if she didn’t say something soon.

“Yeah…” Regan said slowly, uncharacteristically stretched out. Maybe saying nothing would have been better, actually, but her mouth never quite knew when to stop. “They might not.”

She wasn’t sure if she was squashing Jade’s expectations to be more realistic or reassuring herself that… that what? She’d had pieces of her body cut off. Even if Regan’s bushy neurons weren’t sparking at their most vigorous right now, not collaborating, she knew this was not how she should have been responding. Why was this even – could she not simply be relieved? Out of everything, that brought some tears: that relief didn’t feel anything like relief should have.

Regan hooked herself around Jade, because the conflict muddling her mind was not about her love for the woman or kidneys next to her. She took a deep breath against Jade’s warm skin. Another deep breath. Slower. “Forget them. So much more to tell you about. So much…” Slower still. “My lawyer. The pubic defender. It sat in my hands. Did nothing on my behalf. Any other bone…” Regan huffed a yawn. Stifling it was no longer possible. “But this pubis… it worked for Eithne. It must have…” She let the heaviness of her eyelids win. “...not a banshee anymore…betrayed by a bone… can you believvvve…” The word was swallowed up by the pillow, and everything else by Jade’s warmth.

It was good they talked about the pubis. Important. That was something they could commiserate. It was a small bone. But the shadow of its betrayal was so large, and so dark, that they’d be talking about it for months. For years. Forever. Certainly tomorrow.

Finally, sleep came, as Regan fastened herself to Jade like muscle around a bone– one of the other two hundred and five.

#writing #c jade

6 notes · View notes

noemitenshi · 9 months ago

Text

Second chances

a post season 8 story by

NoemiTenshi and rebelbravado

Chapter 2 - Help

“You?!”

The moment was complete chaos. Lee had taken out two walkers who were about to make dinner out of...Troy?! The other was being ripped to shreds by Wolf, their dog. Who had been barking loudly and was the main reason they found Troy in the first place.

“You know him?!”

Ri’s voice pitched high even while panting as she called out to him across the clearing. Not long after the soft whirring sound of an arrow cutting through air sounded and she had shot the last walker just behind him. Lee glanced over his shoulder as it came down with a thud, arrow protruding from its eye socket.

“Check the perimeter,” Lee ordered low instead of answering his wife.

He listened to Ri’s rustling as he peeled back Troy’s jacket to assess the damage that had been done. Jesus, what the hell had happened to him? There was an iron rod –or something along those lines since it was oddly shaped– sticking from Troy’s abdomen and blood, so much blood. The kid was bleeding out.

“All clear,” Ri breathed as she fell down on her knees on the other side of Troy, her hands trembling as they now saw what Lee saw too.

“Ay, dios mío...” she blinked, and looked, and blinked as her hands started to tug back fabric or feel at the wound.

“Ssh, ssh...” Lee hushed as Wolf –muzzle bloody and grimy– started to push his head against Troy’s arm. Troy who was now unresponsive. Lee put his arm around the dog’s neck and gently pulled it back into a half hug. “It’s okay boy, you did good.”

“I...” Ri started, her face pure panic as she looked at Lee. And he knew that face. He knew that face and wanted to do anything he could to prevent her feeling that way. His wife was overwhelmed and scared. And from the looks of Troy she had every right to be.

“Get the car.” Another order, to give her something to do and to make sure she wasn’t the one sitting here with Troy while he died. Which he was. He was dying.

“But...” Ri started and Lee shook his head.

“If he is to stand a chance I need you to get the car, right now, Ri.”

Ri nodded frantically as she got up, her jeans and shirt already covered in blood. She disappeared with determined efficiency, followed closely by Wolf, giving Lee the chance to really look at Troy.

Troy Otto.

Alive.

Or well...barely.

He had thought him to be dead for a while now. Yet here he was, and even though he looked older –was older– he still looked young to Lee. His hair was longer now, making it look curlier than he remembered, and on the side of his face was an angry looking scar. It looked old, healed in ways festering wounds would. Ugly and ragged and like it had been a painful.

There was a hole in his dirty jacket and when Lee pulled it aside it revealed blood crusted bandages. He was careful not to move him too much, quiet so he could listen to every strained breath still coming from those lips. They were getting raspier, their sound wet and strained.

Troy’s desperate cry for help was still ringing in his ears. The kid had looked so scared, so lost. In such stark contrast to how Lee had known him in the past. And those eyes, god, those wide, wide eyes and the way they had looked at him. Had pleaded.

No way in hell could Lee have denied him help, despite all that had happened between them. He simply couldn’t. Not with the state Troy was in, bleeding out and trying to crawl to …safety? Certainly he couldn’t with the way Troy had looked at him. So very terrified.

He’d seen that look before, the look of someone knowing their end was coming. But no matter how often he’d already seen it, it never got easier. To recognize this certainty in another’s gaze. To stay with them throughout because what else was there to do. That look had haunted him once before, when he’d come back from the war. And since the world ended it had haunted him again in all the people they hadn’t been able to save.

It had made him swallow uncomfortably, seeing that look on Troy’s face. Though now he wasn’t sure if that was the only reason he had felt – uncomfortable. Or no, not exactly uncomfortable. It had made him feel raw. And now, he thought that he’d seen something else in Troy’s look, too. Something that had made him feel like that. Something much more fragile. Almost hidden but not quite. Something like... relief? Relief the second their gazes had met. Or was he thinking that just because Troy had stopped struggling once he’d recognized Lee?

Not that the reason mattered. Nor did it really matter what it was exactly, he had seen in Troy. The only thing that did matter was that it had stirred something inside of him, something that had started to shift to where he would move heaven and hell to help this person –Troy!– and try his utmost to keep him from dying. Try even though it seemed so futile. Doomed to fail. That look of certain death was almost never wrong.

Even so he would try. Not only because it was the right thing but because Troy needed it, needed him. There had been such pain in those eyes, and not only from the terrible, terrible injuries but...what had been done to him?!

He couldn’t have been sitting there long when Ri drove the truck toward him at an alarming speed, coming to a halt with squeaking tires that left deep marks in the forest floor. She got out in one swooping motion, jumping down from the truck, her boots landing deep in the mud as Wolf barked from the passenger seat.

“Roll him over to his side.” She was instant action as she moved closer, dousing a clean cloth in alcohol. “Here, wrap that around the rod, close to the wound.”

Lee obeyed, finding calm in her again.

“Fuck...” Ri said as she studied Troy’s back. “Okay, we need to get him in the truck horizontally. He’s losing blood too fast, if we sit him up again, he dies.” Her eyes shot up at him and she sighed as she sat back to tie her two braids together behind her head.

Her hands rubbed her face and by the way she chewed on her lip Lee could tell she was thinking. But there wasn’t much time to think.

“Ri...” he prompted low.

“I don’t know if I can fix this...” she said quietly, more to herself but he could see panic rise again in his wife. “I don’t know if I can fix this,” she said louder now, looking at him again.

Streaks of Troy’s blood were on her cheeks now and he could see her chest rise and fall a little too fast for comfort.

“I don’t know what to do.” Ri’s voice was so small, slipping back to a dark place she had not been in a long long time.

“It’s okay, let’s start with cleaning hm?” Lee tried, but when Ri didn’t respond right away he pressed on more urgently. “What do I use for cleaning, Ri?”

He knew the answer. Of course he knew the answer. They had been doing this for years. Saving and mending and healing people. They had learned so much together. He knew but he needed her to focus on something simple first, something she did have answers to. It snapped her right out of it and her eyes cleared again, focus returning as she took a steadying breath and got up.

“We gotta make that thing smaller.” Lee could hear her mumble as she climbed in the back of the truck then stopped herself and went “No. First we get him in. Then we can worry about whatever is sticking out of him.” She was talking mostly to herself although Lee was readying himself to follow her orders anyway.

And so the two of them lifted Troy into the truck. It was a challenge to keep him completely horizontal, but Ri tried her hardest to match Lee’s strength there. The back of the truck was equipped for similar situations, or at least situations comparatively dire. Some mix between an ambulance a tank and a workshop, decked out with both medical supplies and small battery powered power-tools that might come in handy on the road.

As soon as Troy was put down on his side, Lee made sure he was comfortable, or as comfortable as he could be. He rolled up a blanket under Troy’s head and tried to get water into his unmoving mouth.

“Hold him while I do this,” Ri asked Lee as she advanced with a multi-tool, switching out the saw blade for a sharper one with swift hands.

Lee fell deeper in love with his wife in moments like these, overwhelmed by this deep understanding that she was the one while she did what she can to save a life. This seemed to go completely unnoticed to Ri as she put the blade to –what was that?!– the foreign object sticking out of Troy and started to rid it of any pieces that were sticking out too far and could cause extra movement and thus pain.

Lee held Troy and the rod as still as possible from the other side. Once that was done Ri removed the old cloth that was now stained red, and doused another with disinfectant, putting it against the wound as best as she could before looking up at Lee again.

“I need you to get us home, fast.” Her attention returned to Troy again as she put her fingers against his neck and started to count his heartbeats.

Lee was already on the move, crawling into the driver seat, ignoring Wolf whining on the one next to him. Ri kept talking as she busied herself checking Troy’s vitals and getting him hooked on an IV with painkillers. She was prepping him for surgery just as she would when back at their camp, only they weren’t there yet, and Lee was unsure if they were going to make it in time.

“When we get home I need you to get doc, a stretcher and people to carry him out safely. You go and set up blood transfusion right away.”

“Ri, I’m not sure...”

“I know. But we’re doing it anyway.”

#Troy Otto #Crazy Dog #RI #OC #ftwd #ftwd fanfic #fanfic #fix-it #whump #some comfort now #my fic #second chances

3 notes · View notes