#i guess i'll try something during the holidays

[anaalnathrakhs]

hjgjhggjgjgh forgot i can't even go to the psych ward if there was magically room for my non urgent case. my mom's birthday is this weekend, and my aunt and grandma stay at our house for the following week. i need to be there for the birthday, and then i have to seem normal and present at normal hours. AND THEN IT'S THE HOLIDAYS.

[endearng]

Firsts

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Summary: You and Spencer navigate through your firsts throughout your life as childhood friends.

WC: 6k

Warnings: death, grief, use of drugs to cope with grief, uhhhh i guess that's it

A/N: HELLO!!! It's been so so long and I'm sorry I took forever to update — uni's kicking my ass but now I'll try to write a bit more during holidays season. I hope you guys enjoy this one <3 Feedbacks are highly appreciated!

| masterlist

"Do you think we'll stay friends?"

"I'm sure we'll stay friends."

For a genius, your best friend, Spencer Reid, never seemed to notice some of his speech patterns — he would echo you sometimes, which you honestly found adorably funny, and he also had a tendency for rambling, even if it wasn't that appropriate at times. When you two were alone, you didn't mind; in fact, you encouraged him and let him talk to you all the way. When there was someone else, like either of your parents or a teacher (these were your regular companions), you would try to tap him on the arm subtly so he would know when to stop. Although it broke your heart, he said himself once that he appreciated when you helped him look more normal.

Right now, things are everything but normal. Spencer had graduated high school at the age of 12 while you were still in seventh grade and he was leaving to study at Caltech. You didn't dare to compare yourself to him, but you would definitely miss him around, since he was the first person you saw everyday (besides your parents, of course) and the one who walked you to school and then went on the way to his. Right now, you are sitting on the floor of your front porch, while Spencer is laying his head on your lap and you have your hands on his hair. You always said to him that he's got nice hair, no matter how he styled or decided to cut it. He blushed every single time.

"You know… I'm gonna miss you, Spencer."

"I'm gonna miss you. But you'll still be in my life."

"Will I?"

"I'm leaving, but I'll try my best to keep in touch. We can call each other. I'll spare a couple hours of my week so you can talk to me." A small grin stretched on his lips when he mentioned talking to you. A crease made its way between your brows when you thought you'd only talk to him weekly.

Trying to play it cool, you asked, just to be sure, just to check if the pang in your heart felt less intense, less hurtful. "Will you?"

"Yes, I will."

Despite having him in your lap, you couldn't see his eyes, for they were closed in delight from your gentle touch. You saw him smile softly and you could see just how relaxed he seemed with this big change — honestly, if you were him, you'd be terrified. Quickly trying to get rid of your sad and fearful thoughts, as you ran your hands through his hair, you poorly fought the urge to chuckle when you thought about braiding his hair. He felt the air that left your lungs hit his face when you did.

Curious, as he always had been, he inquired, "What is it?"

"You'd look good with braids."

"I'm not letting you braid my hair," even if his tone was one of mock offense, a chuckle made its way out of him.

"I didn't ask to."

You saw as he bit back a grin. Little did you know, but he's is heaven, here in your presence. In dire need of some place safe to just be, without the expectations and the big things that are expected from him and to happen to him. As you unknowingly soothed his thoughts with your gentle touch, he thought about how strange it is having someone touch him and not being utterly opposed to the idea. He also thought about how, for one time in his life, he didn't know something, which was the feeling spreading on his chest. Nevertheless, there was a ghost of a small, shy smile on his face as his shoulders relaxed.

He was happy.

—

As you made your way home from your sixteenth birthday dinner, something felt odd. Looking out the window, the city lights seemed to run from how fast your dad is driving. In the backseat, all alone, you tried to figure out what made you feel so empty all night long. As the car went over a bump, you instinctively looked to the side, and then everything made sense. Spencer wasn't there. Usually, after whatever family celebration you'd go to, he would be there (because you'd insist on taking him with you), by your side in the backseat of your dad's car, laughing at whatever funny thing had happened during the event. He was your company to every single thing you did, and you had been missing him quite more often as the contact between you two became more and more scarce.

Turning to look out the window again, your mom saw the frown on your face and sighed quietly, knowing precisely why you weren't chatting like you normally did. The specific pair of ears that you wanted to be listened by were not here. And she didn't blame you one bit.

As you got home, your frown was quickly replaced by a hopeful feeling on your chest and in your features when you found a voicemail addressed to you.

Hey! I hope you get home before midnight so that you won't think, not even for a minute, that I have forgotten about you. I'm so sorry I couldn't make it! I'm really stressed right now because there are too many things happening at the same time and I'm here all by myself, so... I guess you know, better than myself, how I feel. You… You know me so well. It is nice to be known by you. Anyway... Um... I'd like to wish you a happy birthday and, ah, I also would like you to know that I wish I could have been with you today. I'm really sorry because I know how much you love your birthdays. I'm sending you a gift, but I'm not sure if it will arrive on time. I miss you. I miss you and whatever Taylor Swift song you were always humming when we were walking back from school.

Anyway, er... I miss you—hah—I don't think I'll ever be able to tell you how much I miss you. And how much I miss our time together. Uh, happy birthday!

You didn't know when, but you had teared up at some point listening to him. You didn't know whether the cause was hearing his voice again or because he remembered you or because he told you he missed your time together or that he remembered the silly songs you'd sing when you were walking back home together. Before going to bed, you let your bedside table lamp on, as you always did before so Spencer knew, from the house beside yours, that you were up or you didn't care if he called you in the middle of the night. Either way...

You were happy.

—

Underneath the Christmas tree, the glow of the warm white fairy lights you and your mom had picked out was almost blinding. Yet, you and Spencer couldn't care less. You were both too infatuated by the blinding brightness that punished your eyes to care about having problems later. Closing your eyes, you smiled to yourself, happy to be doing something so ordinary, so dumb, with your best friend. Behind your eyelids, the light was not as relentless and it granted some relief from the current sight, which sort of looked like a kaleidoscope of... white. You heard when Spencer turned his head to look at you, but you missed his soft grin.

"It was overwhelming me," you explained.

"I know." He replied, still looking at you.

Your profile, under the yellowish glow, looked almost ethereal. The slope of your nose, the curve of your lips, everything was forever ingrained into his memory. By now, Spencer could map out every single freckle on your face — especially the particular one on your lower lip. He sighed at the sheer thought of your lips. You were now seventeen and so was Spencer. Puberty had been way gentler on you than it was on him and he noticed with a blush that you were growing up, just as he was. You were a little taller, for sure, and you had put on some weight in all the right places, not to mention your style that matched your personality. As for him, he had that voice pitch swing that he hated greatly, still wore thick glasses and overall went with the nerdy stereotype that everyone picked on him for… while you looked like you were glowing.

You opened your eyes and turned to look at him. You were so close that it almost hurt. Inches separated Spencer from what he thought would be the best feeling of his life. From the person that had him lying awake for hours, tossing and turning on his bed until the sun began to rise. "I can't wait to give you your gift. I think you'll love it!"

He grinned. "I'll be happy with anything." From you, he meant to say, but he didn't finish.

You closed your eyes again, a grin of your own on your face. He wondered... What if he got closer? What if he kissed you? What if you pulled away? What if you didn't pull away? What if you cut him off?

Almost unconsciously, he inched closer and closer to the point your breaths mingled together. You didn't pull away, not even for a second. Instead, you leaned in, getting ever closer to him than you ever had been before. The fairy lights made you look even prettier than before. You looked like a dream.

"I was thinking..."

"About what?" He asked. Despite his gaze being lost in you, he was acutely aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

God, your mouth.

"It's stupid..." You muttered, looking away from his eyes.

"You know you can talk to me." It's not stupid if it's you.

"Okay... okay." You breathed in. "Me and the girls were talking about first kisses. And I felt so, so embarrassed because I haven't had mine yet."

Spencer felt dizzy. Even if he wasn't the best at social cues, if he was reading this right, you wanted him to kiss you too. He exhaled softly, trying to clear his thoughts. His voice was weak when he asked, "And?"

"Have you had yours yet? I know we talk about everything and all that, but... have you?"

He chuckled at your question. How could he, the scrawny little nerdy boy have had his kiss and you hadn't? "You're joking right?"

"I'm not! I'm genuinely curious."

He didn't know, but your heart was in your throat, too scared of a positive answer.

"I haven't had my first kiss yet."

Somehow, that did nothing to calm your racing heart. Inching even closer, you muttered, "we could have it together."

If Spencer didn't pass out with your words, he was sure he would be unshakable for the rest of his life. Whatever life threw at him, it wouldn't matter as much as this moment of sheer strength and self-control, because he didn't pull you in immediately. "Are you sure?"

"I'd be fine with kissing you. You're my best friend. I—I know you won't judge me and you know I won't judge you either. And—and... even if things are... embarrassing... i—it will still be a good memory in the… future." As your soft voice reached his ears, he felt like he was in heaven.

Your arguments for kissing him made him wonder if you had spent that much time considering it as he did. "Okay, you've got a few points. I'm—I'm not... opposed to the idea."

Your heart burned. You both inched closer and closer, a hair width separating your lips. As your eyes fluttered closed and you placed one of your hands on the back of his neck, both hesitantly and surely, Spencer mimicked you and pressed his lips to yours with the lightest pressure as his hand found your waist tentatively. Your lips felt so soft and sweet. He knew he would feel you for days — and hoped you'd feel him for days, too.

Encouraged by him, you pressed your lips a bit harder against him. He gasped softly and you took the opportunity to capture his lower lip between yours and kiss it gently. Spencer could feel his heartbeat drumming on his ears and he tightened his hold on your waist the tiniest bit. Internally, he thought he died and went to heaven and that's how he was welcomed there. Your lips fit together so nicely and he felt his heart burning for you and he knew back then that he would do anything you asked him to in a heartbeat.

You pulled back to lick your lips and fitted them into his again. He sighed, again, moving to your accord as he tried focusing on how good it felt to be kissed by you rather than how you could regret it later. Distancing yourself, your eyes slowly fluttered open, finding his dazed ones already looking back at you. You grinned at him. Another secret between the two of you; but this time, it wasn't an embarrassing one.

He smiled back.

Later that day, Spencer sat on his bed, touching his lips, feeling the tingle yours had left behind. Smiling like an idiot, he wrote that date on the wood of his nightstand, black marker holding the evidence that tonight had actually happened, if he were to ever forget. If anyone asked, well, he would have to come up with something to hide the fact that he was relentlessly in love with you, but he would replay the best memory of his life in the back of his mind as his mouth stuttered out a little white lie.

He was so confused. And screwed. And so utterly happy.

—

At Caltech, at the ripe age of eighteen, on a working day, as usual, Spencer typed aggressively on his keyboard, writing an academic paper on a topic that had come to his mind during one of his classes and later inspired fully by a conversation with this one professor. Looking at the time on his computer screen, he cursed. It was already time he was supposed to be on his way to class, which was unlike him. There was a reason, though.

Last night, he had gotten home late. He had lost track of time talking to a girl whose name was Alex. They were both at the university library, and they hit it off immediately talking about Literature and then more mundane things — he had found out that she was a high schooler having classes with grad students, just like himself a few years back. Getting home late, his entire schedule for the day ahead had been ruined, so everything felt odd as he tried to navigate through his last obligations. He had gone to bed later than usual and overslept for some reason unknown to him.

As he got up abruptly, he knocked his knee on the desk, which was now getting very small for the size he had grown into. Shutting his eyes and suppressing a whine, he breathed in. As he opened his eyes, his line of sight caught glance of one of the two only photos he had hung up on his wall. The first was him and his mother, Diana. The second was you and him.

It was short after your fifteenth birthday, and he finally had had the time to go visit. You had greeted him with a very warm hug. That very same day, you had dragged him to your bedroom, which now didn't have the pink walls and the posters of the bands you liked so much anymore. Now, the walls were a cool tone of sage green and your walls were cleaner, the posters being replaced by photos of you and your friends from school. He had felt a tinge of jealousy, noticing just how much he was missing out on your life. Despite the lingering feeling, he tried to not let it get to him.

You thanked him so much for the gift he had given you, one of those polaroid cameras. He had spent so much time saving money to get you that present. The excited, happy tone in your voice during the phone call you had made to thank him made him feel like it had been worth it to spend that much.

"Hey, here she is! I named her Marie. From Marie Curie, of course." You explained, holding your camera carefully as you both entered your bedroom

"You named 'her' Marie?"

"She has a special place on my heart."

He chuckled. "You're so material, sometimes."

"You gave it to me!"

"I gave it to you." He whispered, a hint of a smile dancing around his features.

You smiled. "Come on, let's take a picture. It's her first. I waited a whole month so you'd be here to take this photo with me. It's only fair you're the first person to be photographed with me by Marie."

"Oh... okay..."

Holding the camera with both of your hands, you held it out so that it would capture the two of you. "Smile." You said, and, without checking his pose, you pressed the button, a big grin on your face, for the photo, of course, but also from being so madly happy that you were with him again. Spencer didn't know what do to, frozen on the spot because you were so, so close. He just looked at you, dumbstruck gaze on him as he watched you smile so beautifully at the camera.

His heart was doing somersaults.

After the flash in your face, you blinked rapidly, chuckling to yourself. "Oooh. That's uncomfortable, heh." You open your eyes and the first thing you see are his beautiful hazel ones, looking straight at you, as if he didn't even blink upon the bothering aftermath of the light on your faces. You nearly had to gulp under the intensity of his gaze. Then, you quickly regained consciousness and started fanning the small piece so that the picture would appear faster.

The result was the one now stuck to his wall: you, with the biggest smile on your face and he, lovestruck, dumb, lost gaze as he looked at you.

Sigh.

Spencer quickly shook his head, not meaning to be later and even more stressed than he already was. He missed you, though. And he let himself relish in that feeling of longing for a minute. Glancing at the photo, he couldn't help but think you were already eighteen. And that he had loved you from the first time he saw you — when he was twelve.

He sat on his bed, having removed the photo from the wall. As he held it delicately between his fingers, he thought of you. He always did. In spite of being late, in spite of everything telling him he had to go through his days, he felt something tugging at his heartstrings, a longing feeling that he should be somewhere else, something that told him something, so he knew.

It was time to go.

—

Back in his hometown, even the air felt different, despite exuding an aroma that reminded him of his younger days. It had been some time since he had visited, and the distance between you and him only grew further. Driving past your house — the state of California had finally issued his license —, he saw a somewhat big crowd of people, all dressed in black.

He felt like the noise around him didn't fully reach his brain. Like he was under water.

Robotically stepping out of his car, he approached the house cautiously. Almost as instantly as your mom welcomed him, he saw you across the room, dressed in black. Bloodshot eyes found him instantly, and a flicker of relief passed your expression — unable to muster up a smile, but oh so willing to show him that you were grateful for his presence. You felt frozen to the spot and had been standing in that corner for hours. A man placed his hand on your shoulder and that's when you looked away from Spencer. He noticed it, of course, and was obliged to acknowledge the blonde man by your side. You didn't smile at him either.

Spencer approached, somewhat relieved that you were okay, but so confused and overwhelmed by the entire situation. Almost unwilling to believe whatever bad thing had happened, because he had been so happy with you in that house.

Once he was within your earshot, you greeted weakly, "Hi."

"Hi."

Silence.

"Can we talk?"

Something about the look in your eyes told him that you desperately wanted, no, needed, craved it from him, his presence. With a subtle nod, you excused yourself from the man and lead him to the backyard. Sitting on the same bench you did when it was too late and you talked about the stars together, you reveal softly as you stare into the distance, "Dad's gone."

Spencer felt like he had been punched and all the air had left his lungs after your confirmation of something he was suspecting already. Finally, he blurted out, sitting down by yourself, "W—what?"

"He didn't wake up."

"He didn't wake up?"

"No... Last night, Spencer..." You begun, your voice thick with emotion, "he said that everything was alright." You frowned, tears streaming down your face, "That he... loves... loved me and mom... and that... that had been his role on Earth."

He stood quiet, waiting for the rest of what you had to say, still shaken by the news. Your broken voice and distant gaze were enough to skyrocket the pain he felt. Spencer absolutely adored your dad, and he was one of the few that Spencer confided in wholeheartedly when things got too rough for him to bear by himself. Even though your dad was the quiet type, Spencer would go as far as saying that he was somehow his dad as well.

With your silence, he had a little time to see past the pain. Analyzing your figure, he knew. He knew you had to leave. If you decided to stay, you'd be rooted to the spot and you wouldn't be able to grow any further, forever stuck into the never ending, relentless force of grief. Spencer knew that because, besides knowing you better than anyone else, he had left in hopes to escape the person he thought he was doomed to become. Your voice brought him out of his reverie. "I laughed. I thought he was joking."

"Maybe he was joking."

"Maybe he knew he was leaving."

Silence.

You look up at him. Asking for answers. For something. For comfort.

Sitting down beside you, he held your shaking shoulders as you let tears fall freely and you lost your breath and you choked on your own saliva. An ugly, guttural, desolate crying. Spencer held you through it all — he was ready to scream at anyone on the garden if they had the nerve to go there, but, actually, in that moment, you didn't care that somebody could see or hear you. The effect of the pills your mother had given you had started to wear off and you felt things way more intensely than when she first broke the news.

Dad's gone, was all that you could hear her voice say as Spencer turned his body to fully embrace you, placing your head on his shoulder and sobbing your pain as an effort to quell the ache of your loss.

It took every single ounce of self-control for Spencer not to break down with you, because in that moment, he preferred to swallow his own pain so that he could be your safe space instead. As your sobs slowly subsided, you sighed, squeezing your eyes shut as if that would make the pain that invaded your whole body go away.

"I think..." you started, but never finished.

Silence.

"I think you should move away."

You looked at him, baffled, puzzled, hopeful.

"What?" You whispered softly.

"I think staying won't do you any good. And you know I'm right." His gaze never faltered.

You took a deep breath. "M-my mom... Spencer... she doesn't have anyone else. I-I can't do that... to her..." You gulped. The meer thought of leaving felt exhilarating, but you had to stay. You were rooted.

"Your brothers are always around." He replied.

"Not anymore. Much has changed since… since you... left."

"I didn't leave." He said, defensively.

"I didn't accuse you. At least I didn't mean to. I'm sorry."

He pressed his lips into a thin line. "Would you consider it? Leaving, I mean?" Please, say yes. Please, say yes. Come with me.

"I would... I don't know, Spencer." Your voice was broken. "Too... too much is going on. I can't just... go."

"Do you wanna talk about it?"

"There's dad. And now mom. And that stupid college... I don't know where I fit." You fit next to me, he wanted to scream at you, but he realized it wasn't fair of him to demand anything from you at that moment. "I don't know what path to take without my dad here to guide me." A wet chuckle made its way out of you. He hugged you again.

On a sudden wave of boldness, he stated, "If you stay, this will be your life. If you go, you'll have somewhere to come back to if things go wrong. I—I… I know, um, that I sound very insensitive right now, but that's the truth. Why do you think I went away?"

"I can't." And your tears began again, even harder this time.

He sighed, holding you against his chest once again. Despite the unbearable pain of not being able to help, to persuade you, he decided to respect your decision.

“My father's in a casket. I have got no plans.” You muttered softly. His heart broke for you all over again.

“You've got me. And I've got you.”

Looking up at him, your eyes glimmered with hope. Desperate to believe him, desperate to leave. With him, if he'd have you.

But that wasn't how it worked.

You buried your face on his chest again, willing the tears to stop, to have some control over yourself again.

He held you through it all. He was there for you.

Spencer's stay didn't last long, even though it was filled with an unspoken, desperate beg for you to come with him, even if he didn't quite know how things would work once you accepted. After some thinking, he realized he was asking too much of you for the sake of trying to protect you from what he knew was going to happen. Losing his own father, albeit for a different reason, had changed him permanently and he was scared that you, losing yours, would turn into a different person too. The mere thought of losing you to grief was too much to handle, even if he understood that his pleas were unfair to you, not to mention absurd.

Spencer's brain was turned into a whirlwind of thoughts, all of them desperate to find a way out of this situation, to find a way out to get you out of that place — both physically and mentally. As he stood by your side during your dad's burial, he let you squeeze his hand as if that would somehow make the pain less intense for you. It didn't, but it felt nice to have someone to carry the weight with you.

—

Spencer had joined the FBI at the age of 23, when you were graduating from college. The difference was staggering and it made you laugh the same as it had when he was going to college and you were going to seventh grade. It had been years since you had last met in person, after all, Diana was the main reason he'd go to Vegas, and he didn't go there much because he was often too busy with his studies and his career. Once, he had confided in you, saying that he secretly wished that it would be enough of a good excuse to avoid seeing his mother in a facility and saving them both from the pain. Tonight, though, that would change. You were visiting him in Virginia.

A little nervous, you knocked on his door. Once he answered, you took in his appearance and your heart swelled at the sight. In your eyes, he'd always looked the prettiest, but now… It's like something had shifted: Spencer was all that you saw. And you didn't want to look at anything else anymore.

“Hi,” you greeted in a weak voice. Perhaps the intensity of your smile stole away your will to speak properly.

“You're here.” Spencer muttered, eyes filled with many emotions, but that you decided to read as relief.

“I am.”

“God, it's been so long,” he says, closing the gap between you and him, wrapping his arms around your torso, resting his head on your shoulder, not so subtly trying to smell your perfume. And failing to hide the overdrive when he noticed it was the same from all those years ago, from when you had first kissed.

Pulling away slightly, you cupped his cheeks with both hands and took in his shiny eyes, the ones that you adored so much and now met yours with a new perspective on everything. Once entering his apartment, you found that the place screamed his name, from the scattered books and the endless piles all over his living room. His TV had a documentary in a foreign language on, and you smiled to yourself. Spencer had never changed and, at his core, was still the boy you were once close friends with.

Spencer filled you in on the things you missed. You knew they were mostly about his job because he wasn't one to step out of his comfort zone — not that you'd judge him for it. “I miss having you around, tapping my arm so I know when to stop,” he revealed softly as you two shared a tub of ice cream.

Forget germs, forget pathogens, forget viruses, forget everything. She is here.

You giggled. It set his heart on fire. “Ah, Spencer… You know I only did it when other people were around. Other people are just other people. You're you. And rambling is part of who you are. Don't let that disappear.”

He smiled. You were still you.

“In fact, I have something to tell you.”

His heartbeat fastened, thinking of every possible scenario, reliving every single one of your experiences in the back of his mind. “You… you have something to tell me?” He echoed. He was still him.

Chuckling softly, “I'm glad you're still you, Spencer. I still say your name when people ask me who's my best friend. It's an excuse to relive our favorite stories as I tell them all about you.”

Spencer was left speechless, bashfully looking away from you as he resumed to talk about his days at the FBI. He told you all about his team, the people and what they found on a daily basis. “Do you think it's weird that I study what I do study?”

“No, Spence. You've always had a curious mind. Why do you ask?” You inquired back.

“I don't know… sometimes I think that people find me weird.”

“You're not,” you said, simply. “Your interests are very diverse, and anyone who talks to you will find that out. Being a profiler is not weird.”

He grinned. Your words or arguments about his insecurities throughout your friendship weren't always the most complex, but he always felt better by talking to you. He was never ashamed, never too scared of admitting something or voicing his needs. You made him feel like it was okay to speak, to want, to be. Whatever his limitations were and whatever words he left unspoken, they were never your fault. You'd never frowned at him, not once.

As the night progressed, he filled you in on what he had been doing for fun, mentioning his current readings — one of them on his nightstand. Giddily, you went over to his bedroom to find the novel that he was talking about, so that you could hear him talk about it and recite, by heart, quotes that illustrated his points and interpretation from the book. Upon entering his bedroom, you smiled to yourself. So Spencer. The sand-colored walls, the neat and clean floor, his slightly wrinkled bedsheets, a pile of laundry on top of his bed, a few scattered items on his nightstand — which, by the way, was the same in his mother's house. You had always found it amazingly pretty, the light wood and the black paint that covered the iron of the drawer pulls.

As you reached the piece of furniture and removed the book, you found something scribbled right under where the object had been lying. You were ready to give him a piece of your mind and you opened your mouth, ready to tell him not to ruin the perfect nightstand, but as you turned on the lamp to try and find out what was written there, the writing in black ink made you shiver. You fell silent. It was the date of your first kiss.

Time stopped. Why was that date written there? And why did the possibilities both scared and thrilled you so damn much? You felt someone behind you. “So, you found the book or what?” The question made its way out of his lips in a teasing tone. But, as you turned around softly, the book still clutched tightly in your hands, your eyes questioned him back. Not accusingly, only… curiously.

When he realized what you had discovered, the air left his lungs and he tried desperately to come up with an excuse. It turns out that he hadn't been asked by many people about the meaning of that date — and it's not like he had many visitors, anyway. “I… You… You… Did you… see it?” You managed to nod, weakly.

“What does it mean?” You asked, eyes never leaving his.

Looking away, he replied, “I was scared to forget.”

“Forget?” You inquired, shifting your weight.

“About it…. That night, I mean. about… us.” You gazed at him understandingly once he answered.

“About us?” Funnily enough, now you were the one parroting him. It would have made you chuckle if the situation wasn't that serious.

He breathes out, “Yeah, us.”

A beat of silence. You take a step towards him, and his breath hitches. “Have you forgotten?”

He searches your face. Upon finding nothing but support, he reveals, “There's not a single day I don't remember that moment.” You gulp and he takes a step closer, which makes your grip on the book tighten even more. You closed your eyes — a silent invitation, but it makes him falter once he doesn't have your eyes to navigate him through what he's supposed to do.

I'm glad you're still you, Spencer.

Encouraged by the memory of your words from moments ago and the presence of you, he closes the distance between you, once and for all. There's nothing that could hold him back from loving you once your lips touch and press together in a kiss that makes the book fall to your feet as your hands find their place on the back of his neck.

On any other day, Spencer Reid would be pissed upon seeing someone drop a book, let alone a considerably heavy one, on his feet — that's absurd. That moment, though, he couldn't care less as he squeezed your waist, as if trying to convince himself that you were there, that it was real, and that he finally got to do what he has always wanted.

Spencer and you had been through many firsts during the time you've known each other; some good firsts and some pretty bad firsts. But, there was a quote, from ‘Doctor Who’, that you always reminded him and yourself whenever things got too tough:

"The way I see it, every life is a pile of good things and bad things. The good things don’t always soften the bad things, but vice versa, the bad things don’t always spoil the good things and make them unimportant."

As long as he had you to soften the bad things and had your company during the bad things that made the good ones unimportant, Spencer figured that life would be a pile of more good than bad things.

[cxffecoupx]

our little thing

chwe hansol + bickering over which christmas movie is superior wc: 672 warnings: vernon being a cutie, gets a little emotional at the end (i think) author's note: todays exam was shit. this was made in a haste. please bear with me (me for the 23456th time). but i kinda like it a little. also basically i've tweaked the prompt a little i guess. but this was the general idea. hope you like it <33 winter wonderland masterlist

"sol, stop sulking; it's been more than an hour now!"

hansol just huffs once more before crossing his arms across his chest and looking away. you walk over to him to sit beside him.

"it was just a silly debate, non. i didn't even mean it that seriously."

"silly?! you mean to tell me, that movies are silly?!" he mocks a hurt expression before pressing his palm to his chest to drive his point home. you can only roll your eyes at this drama queen of a boyfriend.

two hours ago, vernon posed a question that he explained was 'in the spirit of the holidays'.

"what's your favourite christmas movie?" he asked while you were looking at decoration ideas through pinterest for seungcheol's christmas bash.

you actually had to judge him for that. for asking you that question, when he very well knew the fact that you were: 1) not a movie person, and 2) not a holiday person (two things that emotionally hurts vernon every time you express it, he claims).

so without much thought, you say what could have been the worst answer anyone could ever give to a movie person who likes the holidays:

"i dont know; i never really cared."

vernon swears he heard something break into a million pieces at that moment. if he were half as dramatic as his best friend seungkwan was, he'd have faked a faint and fell to the floor with his hand to the forehead (you say this in detail because this has happened before - when you answered the same way when he asked what your favourite christmas song was).

you thank whoever is up there that your boyfriend is nonchalant.

but this answer was enough for your stoic boyfriend to pout (a pout!! that you has to resist kissing), and move to the other end of the couch, far away from you, with the same worked up expression as right now.

for a whole two hours, he stayed huffing and puffing across from you.

you try to get him to look at you, but when that doesn't work, you climb onto his lap and hold his face between your hands. his face felt cold to the touch, nose a pretty pink and lips still in a pout.

this time, you don't resist your urge to kiss.

you lean in and press a lingering kiss to his lips. you could feel him melt under you, leaning into you while trying to deepen the connection. when you pull away after some time, he rushes to chase your lips. you place a finger to his.

"sol," you take a breath and continue.

"i've never really celebrated the holidays before. i mean, we did have some quality family time during the meals, of course. but we've never shopped for ornaments, or decorated the tree and put up a star. i've never sat down with them to watch christmas movies."

you smile when you notice his nose become even red, and smooch it.

"so, i've never really found the appeal to it. i'm grateful for all the holidays i've had, i really am. but there are just some things i silently wish for at times."

he takes a deep breath and pulls you in for a hug.

"let me fulfill that wish for you. we're a family, you and i. we can make new traditions, you know? i've watched a lot of holiday movies, we can watch them together ever year. make it special with some wine, or some hot chocolate. some caramel popcorn. a warm blanket around us."

he pauses to smile before going on.

"and you'll fall asleep in the middle of it, but i won't wake you up because then i'll get to have your share of the popcorn too. and i can tease you about it till the next year, when we do more things to tease each other about."

vernon presses a chaste kiss to your lips.

"you and i can slowly make it our little thing, just like you've wanted."

prompt by @novelbear divider by @adornedwithlight

[soaps-mohawk]

I'm so sorry to everyone that I freaked out with the last post, I was trying so hard not to 😭 I have that like instant fear as soon as I see "we need to talk" or something in the same vein. I always think it's something bad.

This isn't bad, at least depending on how your perspective I guess.

So...I'm having thoughts about CRCB in October. I planned out posting schedules for Kyletober and CRCB and my Patreon stuff and it's going to basically be a post every day, sometimes multiple in multiple places.

That's a lot.

So, I am set on doing Kyletober since all of the fics are already written, but I was planning on continuing CRCB during October as well. But...I think I need a little break from CRCB. It's been about eight months of posting almost every single week and it's been a lot. I'm struggling with chapters right now and with work it's vastly limiting the time I have to write and focus on things and I'm kind of burning out right now.

So, what I wanted to discuss was potentially putting CRCB on hold for October while I focus on Kyletober and everything involved with that. Trying to do both is a lot and I'm not sure I can handle all of it, plus life, plus work.

I was planning on not necessarily putting CRCB on hold, but doing more of a "whenever I can/am inspired" random posting chapters kind of like I did in the beginning when I first started writing the fic, in November/December because those are very busy months and I will be dead tired from work and just general life.

I think I might still do that for November/December and possibly into the new year since there's no way the fic will be finished even if I posted every week until the end of December.

BUT

That's something I'll think about and make a decision on later.

Right now, my thought is...would you hate me if I put CRCB on pause in October? IF I do, I promise I won't end Chapter 39 on a cliffhanger. I wasn't planning on it anyway, but I promise I won't end it on a cliffhanger if I decide not to post any chapters in October.

That way if I do put it on pause, then I can not focus on it for a bit and give my brain a refresh, and I can also focus all my energy on Kyletober.

So yeah, it's going to be a lot doing both at the same time, and honestly I'm ready for a little break from CRCB. It's been going for a long time and it's a lot of words to get out in a week. I've been super stressed lately and I'm just struggling a lot trying to get through chapters.

So yeah. That's basically the dilemma here and the discussion to be had. I know y'all will tell me it's my blog and I can do whatever I want, but I would like opinions on it. Are y'all okay with me putting CRCB on hold to focus on Kyletober? Then pick it back up for probably just whenever I can chapter updates for the rest of the year? In January things will calm down and I'll have more time to relax and write and maybe get close to finishing the story. Plus I know a lot of my readers will be busy the next three months with the holidays and vacations and family and school and all of that, so you won't have to worry about getting behind and having to catch up with a bunch of chapters.

So...let me know...

[cherrysurf]

can we have hot chocolate with tsukishima please? i'll bring a secret santa gift no worries 🫶 let's go christmas shopping !! 💕🤗🫡 (thank you🙏)

Hot cocoa at night !

(hii i hope this is to your standards, angst if you squint LOL, reader is a year older than tsukishima and yamaguchi, timeskip)

It was the middle of December and Christmas was a week away, you loved christmas and we’re all about christmas spirit, so was your brother Tadashi and his friend Tsukishima not so much….. But that didn’t stop you from trying to get him into the Christmas spirit. per usual he ended up spending the night over at our house like they used to do as kids since everyone was back home for the holidays. You were only a year older than tadashi but sometimes it felt like you were the same age “because you’re just as childish as tadashi” wise words from tsukishima. Anywho as you stand in the kitchen preparing hot cocoa for yourself it was 11pm, you couldn’t sleep maybe it was because of finals or maybe it was the fact that your crush was in the same house as you, after all this time it’s like a rush of emotions came back, tsukishima was no longer that boy that you once knew but a tall blonde man that was dare you say handsome, but that’s weird. That's not something a good sister does, good sisters don’t crush on their brother's friend. You sit there in thought sulking at your thoughts until you hear a faint voice call out your name, you turn around to find tsukishima standing there looking a little sleepless himself “hey tsuki…hot cocoa?” you say pointing down at the warm beverage he nods and goes and sits down at the table, truth be known you and him were used to this sorta way of communicating very few words but understood each other each time. He respected you of course, why wouldn’t he? you were tadashi’s older sister after all you were always helpful and nice and would tease tadashi alongside with him, but why was he so shy to speak to you especially during his and yours highschool years up until now.

You hand him a warm mug full of the chocolatey substance and sit across the table from him with yours. “you know you can call me kei yn, i feel like we’re long past formality’s” he says looking down at his drink, “oh i’m sorry kei it’s just force of habit i guess” you chuckled lightly and apologetically and sip your drink, to avoid saying anything else stupid. “the house hasn’t really changed huh?” he says lightly, always had a very soft tone around you compared to others, “yeah but i like it that way. I mean so many other things in my life have changed drastically. Is it nice to have something that doesn’t you know?”

you say tilting your head looking at him “i think there is still a lot of things that hasn’t changed to be honest” he says in a very suspicious way, “mhm maybe, but not that i can think of” you responded shrugging you didn’t like to pry tsukishima he hated that, he hated when people poked and prodded questions or answers out of him so you just slightly dismissed it and moved on. He liked that about you the way you never bugged him, it’s what made you so different from others. you both sat there silently drinking the hot cocoa that soon became cold whilst enjoying each other’s company in the late night, tsukishima ended up dismissing himself afterwards to head off to bed, and you did a little after leaving you both in thought as he laid there and you as well in separate rooms thinking about each other, just as tsukishima drifted off to sleep he glances at the small glitter wrapped gift with your name on it still in his bag, to cowardly to give it to you tonight. The next morning you woke up pretty late due to the lack of sleep the night before and the silent company of kei. As you sit up right from your bed, you glance at your nightstand to find something that wasn’t there before a gift? a small glittery pink gift with your name on it and a “K.T” initials on it. you look outside your window to find tsukishima's car gone, so you decide to open it. It was a beautifully crafted gold necklace with your birthstone on it and a note along with it “yn, i’ve known you for years and no one’s ever understood and given me my space as much as you have and i’ve never been much of a talker. Maybe it’s wrong but I've grown very fond of you before you start freaking out. Tadashi has been well aware actually since highschool he knew.”

you giggle in relief as you read that part. “As I'm still too scared to tell you in person as embarrassing as that sounds, I hope you reach out soon so hopefully we can spend many more hot cocoa nights together you and i.” you start getting teary eyed, until you hear a knock “ah so he finally did it huh?” you hear your brother say with a chuckle “who knew he was such a nervous wreck around you yn, you two may have been teasing me together but i was teasing him for years about this” he laughs, you chuck a pillow at tadashi and laugh along too happy that he was happy for you.

[sports-on-sundays]

Can u write some Marc guiu where the reader is insecure about her stretch marks and during s*x Marc noticed she was trying to cover them and he moved her hands started kissing the stretch marks telling her she’s perfect/ beautiful and he loves her.. x

perfect / Marc Guiu

Summary: Marc x female!partner!reader - Marc helps you with your insecurities.

Warnings: insecurity, anxiety

Author's Note: I decided to change it a little bit (I don't write sex scenes), but I've still got the gist of your request. Thanks so much for the request! <3

Requested?: Yes, by this anon and by @itskaleahh

You lay in bed on a hot summer night with your lover, Marc Guiu, wearing nothing but a bra and underwear. He sighs, murmuring, "It's so hot; I want to cuddle you but it's like thirty-three degrees and I feel like I'm going to melt..." His eyes flutter open. You've been cuddling for hours, and the room just seems to be getting hotter and hotter.

"Well, that's a summer night in southern Spain for you," you sigh, pulling your hair away from your sweaty neck. You're on holiday together, before football season starts back up full swing again.

You glance to Marc, though, and notice him studying your body with intense eyes. You suddenly have a very sudden moment of insecurity, unable to read the expression in his eyes.

Is he judging my body or something? your brain suddenly intrudes.

You swallow as he continues studying you. His eyes seem to linger on your thighs and lower stomach especially. You glance there, and suddenly feel an anxious jolt when you realise,

Is he looking at my stretch marks...?!

You immediately, without another thought, pull the sheet up over your legs and wrap your arms around your sides and stomach.

Marc meeting looks up, meeting your eyes, and asks groggily, "What the hell are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, actually... not that hot."

Marc just stares for a few seconds, eyebrows furrowed, before saying, "Y/n. It's smoking hot. I can see the beads of sweat on your neck. There is no way you're 'not that hot.' I can see otherwise. So what's the problem? Why're you covering yourself up?"

You gulp. "I... uh... No reason. I just feel more comfy with the sheet on."

"Are you embarrassed? Y/n, you know I think you're beautiful. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong!"

"Yes, something is!" The Spaniard says, suddenly sitting up. "So tell me, Y/n. What's wrong?" His eyes soften as he prods gently, "It's okay; I won't judge you. You know I won't. You know I would never."

You sigh and glance away as Marc gently puts his arms on yours. You allow him to lift your arms off your stomach. He's silent for a few seconds, before taking the sheet down and saying, "Y/n... Is it your stretch marks, love?"

You gulp. "I... I guess."

"Y/n, sweetheart..." he says, even gentler. "You know you don't have to be embarrassed about those. You're beautiful, baby, and they're beautiful, too, okay?"

"No, they're not... No one says that..."

"Well, I do. I think ever single little part of you is beautiful. And to me, your stretch marks aren't scars. They're art. Because you, my love, are a work of art. Every single part of you."

You look at him, swallowing, biting your lip. "You don't have to lie to make me feel better... I saw you looking at them..."

"Yes, I was admiring them! I was admiring you, okay, baby? You're lovely, and I can't get enough of just looking at you."

You stare, still not completely convinced, still hesitant in your insecurity.

But he whispers, "I'll show you, baby." He leans down and starts peppering your lower stomach with little kisses, saying, "You're a lovely, beautiful, perfect princess."

"Oh, stop," you giggle a bit. "That tickles."

"I won't stop until you believe as much as I do that you're most perfect woman on this whole planet..." he breathes, moving to kissing all down your stretch marks on your thighs, continuing whispering praises and sweet-nothings, until you completely melt.

"Marc," you whisper, sniffling a little. "You're so sweet..."

He looks up, his fingers still gently stroking your stretch marks. "Do you believe me, now?" he softly asks, teasingly smiling. "That you're a goddess, and every single part of you is what makes you flawless?"

You laugh and wrap your arms around him, pulling him up against your chest in a hug, giggling. "Yes, Marc. Yes, I believe you now."

"Oh, good," he grins, that adorable little smile. You gaze into each other's eyes for a few seconds, both your faces softening by the second, before Marc whispers simply, "I love you, Y/n..." and leans in for a kiss on your lips.

[dewdr0pz]

CAN I HAVE A HOT CHOCOLATE WITH MY POOKIE BOO SIRIUS?

Feed me mother 😼

(perhaps a few tickles or maybe not :3)

baby, it's cold outside *ੈ🎄✩‧₊

summary: your first night at Sirius's house during the holiday season <3

a/n: this is the first story for ficmas!! woohoo!! also thank you to my platonic wife @justzoeee for requesting this 🫶 (also here's the recipe to the cookies that the reader and Sirius make if anyone wants them, the only change is that they use the green and red M&Ms)

tags: @back-totheoldhouse @daemontargaryennn @o-kye @unbeleevable @mochamuff1n @prettysinners (this is me just guessing who would be interested in this, please let me know if you would like to be removed/added from the taglist!!)

word count:

warnings: reader's nervous, modern au (not a warning but a heads up), mentions of reader's family not being the best

You quickly walked up the stairs to Sirius's apartment level (why didn't they have a working elevator in the building?), your teeth chattering from the cold; if it was going to be so cold outside, why wasn't there at least snow?

You blew hot air into your clasped palms before knocking on the door. His festive wreath was on his door, completed with small jingle bells, pinecones, and a large red bow.

The door creaked open to reveal a beaming Sirius dressed in a Christmas sweater, joggers, and a mug of hot cocoa in his hand.

"Doll! Come in, come in," he ushered you inside, "you must be freezing." He set his mug down on the coffee table in front of the sofa before helping you take off your winter coat and scarf. "You look so cute bundled up like that, baby," he teased. He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands before wincing. "Merlin, baby, you're ice cold. You want hot cocoa?"

"Yes, please," you smiled. "And I was thinking..." You slid your hands on top of his. "We should bake cookies."

"I'm one step ahead of you," Sirius snapped his fingers and pulled you to the kitchen. On the counter were assorted ingredients for baking—flour, sugar, the likes of it—and an extra mug put to the side next to a packet of instant hot cocoa.

"Funny how you prepped all of this knowing that all you're going to do is eat the batter and look pretty," you teased, getting a bowl from the cupboard and organizing the ingredients in a more tidy manner.

"Is there something wrong with looking pretty, babe?" Sirius laughed, sitting in an empty space on the counter near you. "And I help with baking! I got the ingredients for you, didn't I?"

"Siri, you grabbed bread flour," you giggled, "and by the looks of what you're trying to make," you motioned at the open recipe on his phone, "you need brown sugar, not white." You grabbed what was needed from his cupboards and started adding ingredients, Sirius handing you what was needed.

"Sirius, stop eating the M&Ms!" you laughed, catching Sirius taking handfuls out of the bag. He smiled sheepishly and put the rest of the handful into the batter.

"Now I'll taste extra sweet when you kiss me," he teased, poking your side.

"I think you'll still taste like steamed cabbage," you playfully retorted.

Your head was resting on Sirius's lap as you were slowly dozing off, his fingers gently massaging your head. Home Alone was playing in the background.

"You awake, love?" Sirius chuckled quietly. "Maybe we should get you to bed."

"I should be heading home soon," you yawned. "It's getting late."

"Nooo," he whined playfully. "Baby, it's cold outside and you're tired."

"I don't want to bother you," you said nervously, looking up at him.

"You're not a bother," he shook his head. "What is a bother is the fact that you're not asleep right now in my pajamas in my bed."

"Don't you have work tomorrow?" you asked, sitting up a little to rest your head on his shoulder.

"I'll probably call in sick," he shrugged a shoulder. "It's too cold to drive anywhere."

"Are you sure I won't bother you?" you pressed.

"100%," he grinned. He lifted you up into a bridal style like it was nothing. "C'mon, let's get you to bed. I have tons of stuff planned for us tomorrow."

"Like what?" you asked, laughing when he dramatically dropped you on the bed and tossed his warm hoodie and pajama pants on your head.

"Decorating the tree, ice skating, making a gingerbread house..." he listed off.

"You sure we can do all of that in one day?" you chuckled, slipping off your clothes and sliding into his.

"If we can't, then I guess you'll have to keep coming over," he sighed in faux disappointment. "Such a shame. And you might even have to stay for Christmas."

"A tragedy indeed," you giggled, tucking yourself in under the covers and curling up next to Sirius.

"Do you want to stay for Christmas?" he asked softly. "We can bring some of your stuff over so that you can stay."

"Better than spending Christmas with my family," you sighed. "Staying with you's better than listening to my relatives tell me about how I'm a failure in life."

"Well, they can kiss my ass," Sirius teased. "I'm stealing you away and they can't do shit."

"Sounds perfect," you grinned.

[melanieph321]

Kenan Yildiz x Reader - Thick Part 7/8

Ugh, it just gets worse and worse 😭

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Kenan and Reader share the same high school friend group. As graduation is near, Reader sets out to pass her drivers license test but ultimately struggles to. Thankfully Readers friends agree to help her with driving lessons and take turns doing so. It is during one of Rader's lessons that it becomes clear that Kenan likes her. A chock to Reader, who has a crush on someone else in their friend group.

Enjoy!

Kenan didn't come to school the first week after the party. Nor the second week or the third week. To be honest, Kenan stopped showing up to school altogether, making you feel like the shittiest human being in the world.

"We didn't want to tell you at first, but the rumor is that he's dropped out of school completely."

"Dropped out?" You cried. "Why would he do that?"

Maria and Rebecca crossed your room to join you on your bed. "Oh, sweetie. Don't cry." Maria wrapped her arms around you, bringing your head to rest against her chest. "I'm sure it's not your fault. Kenan has always seemed like high school wasn't something for him."

"Yeah, he has football now." Rebecca, second. "I guess the only reason he kept coming was to see....you."

"Me?"

"Fuck, sorry I didn't..."

Maria sighed. You squinted your eyes and went back to crying ugly tears. You had done so for the past week after finding out that Kenan blocked you on all his socials and left every single one of your text messages on read.

Moving on was the hardest thing to do. However, it was necessary in order to focus on what lies ahead. The months went by quicker than any of you could comprehend. Soon, the semester was over, with the summer holidays approaching, as well as your driver's test. It was important for you to pass the test on the day it was due. Having to do it over again could mean you'd have to wait until autumn to get another shot, which meant no road trip to Bari with your friends.

"Remember, even if it feels unnecessary extensively, check your mirrors every other minute." Gio advised, as he so generously drove you to the carpark where you'd meet up with your driving instructor.

"I'm going to fail. I know it."

"Hey, look at me."

Your head shifted reluctantly. 

"You're going to do great." He nodded. "Just try to relax and perhaps enjoy the ride?"

"Enjoy the ride?"

"Yes, just enjoy the ride, Y/N."

You inhaled deeply. "I will enjoy the ride."

"You're going to do great."

"Thanks, Gio. I don't know how I'll ever be able to repay you guys for everything you've done."

"How about you just focus on passing the test? " He smiled. However, that smile quickly faded with the look on your face. "Hey, hey. Don't cry."

You had no control over them. The tears flooded unwillingly. Gio pulled you into a tight hug, letting you cry it out in his arms.

"Hey. Even though he won't admit it, I know that Kenan is proud of you, too, and wishes you nothing but the best of luck today."

"Have you told him about the test?" You sniffled. Out of the four of you, Gio had been the main person to talk to Kenan, sometimes visiting him at his house. Luca had tried to do the same, as well as explain your side of the story to Kenan. That the kiss was all a misunderstanding, a heat of the moment sort of thing that you would all laugh about in twenty years from now. However, Kenan refused to let anyone in, except for Gio, of course.

"Everything is going to be alright, trust me." He said, rocking you in his arms.

"You promise?"

A soft kiss was planted on top of your head, and for someone as thick as Gio, you had to admit that he was damn good at comforting people. Perhaps that's why he and Maria were so good together. They were truly each other's opposite. However, the size of their hearts was undoubtedly the same.

With the help from Gio, you were able to step out onto the car park and meet up with your driving instructor. After going through the required inspection of the car, you hopped in and drove off. An hour later, you stood at the door of Kenan house, having just rung the doorbell. You stood with your certificate in hand, the certificate saying that you had officially passed your driver's license test.

"Y/N?" Kenan's eyes widened at the sight of you.

You were surprised to see him too. He looked so different, so tired. He had bags under his eyes and looked to have just gotten out of bed.

"I'm sorry,  did I wake you? Were you taking a nap?" 

"No it's....I wasn't."

"Oh, okay."

Silence fell, an awkward kind, which broke your heart.

"So, I passed my driver's test." You pulled out the certificate, holding it up before you.

"You did, Y/N, that's...." Kenan's eyes lit up. However, it quickly dawned on him not to get too excited. "That's great, Y/N, really." He said, clearing his throat. "I'm happy for you."

"Are you? You don't sound happy for me."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

You felt your heart raise with everything you wished to say since your last encounter at the party. Everything you wanted to say since Kenan stopped coming to school and stopped answering your calls or texts. However, with your rising temper, you took a deep breath, preventing yourself from lashing out at him.

"I guess what I meant to say was thank you." You nodded. "Thank you for teaching me how to drive and not fear the roundabouts in town. Thank you for letting me drive your car without having to pay for gas." Rebecca never let you do that. "....thank you for always picking me up after school even though I know that you were tired from a day's training with Juventus. And thank you...." Your voice broke, tears running down your cheeks.

"Y/N." A reflex. Kenan stepped up to you and was quick to wipe your cheeks with his thumb, cupping the side of your face with his hand. "Don't cry." He whispered.

Your eyes were glossy, gazing at the man that stood before you. Not the boy you initially thought that he was. No, Kenan was a man, the most loving man you had ever met.

"Kenan I..." You made the effort to thank him once more. But before the words left your mouth, Kenan's face had closed in on yours, your lips colliding into a passionate kiss.

He kissed you shamelessly, your tongues dancing to the movement of your lips. Another hand went to the side of your face, Kenan, eager to have you, to taste you. The world around you simply disappeared, morphing you into a space in time where only the two of you existed.

"I love you." The words escaped your mouth almost immediately after Kenan fell back two steps. His face was flushed, cheeks red. Like you, the kiss was unexpected, yet, well anticipated.

"I know." He nodded. "I love you too."

Your stomach flared with heat. A thousand butterflies erupting into song.

"But what you did was fucked up, and I don't know if I'll ever be able to trust you again."

The ground below you must have caved in. A dark veil draped before your eyes when he said those words. "Kenan, I'm so so sorry...."

"Save it." He said and backed away to stand in the doorway again. The newfound distance between you was simply heartbreaking. "Everyone knows that you have feelings, Luca. A part of me accepted that this might always be the case. However, with time.....the more I got to know you and the more you got to know me, I thought that your feelings would be stronger….for 6 is. I guess I was wrong."

"You weren't!" You blurred out. "You weren't Kenan. My feelings for you are stronger, I don't even like Luca anymore."

"Because he has a girlfriend. But as soon as they show any signs of dislocation, I bet you'll be quick to wrong back to him."

"I won't, Kenan please." You were crying again. But this time Kenan remained in the doorway. Although he looked to fight himself not to give into your tears. 

"It's getting late. I have training tomorrow."

"Kenan, please." Your heart ripped as his hand reached for the door handle. This couldn't be the end. It just couldn't be.

"I don't blame you for having feelings for Luca. You were quite upfront about that." Kenan regarded you with sorrowful eyes, and for the first time, perhaps you understood how much that kiss between you and Luca had done to him. "Why did you have to make me fall in love with you?"

"Kenan, please, I...."

The door slammed shut in your face. But not before you could see it, the trembling of his lips and the heartfelt tears welling up in Kenan's eyes.

Oh, how you fucked up.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

[chronicbeans]

Wally and a Puppeteer Reader (part 8)

Yippee! More time off! At a price, though.

TW: Obsessive Behaviors, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery, Idol Worship, Mentions of Stalking, Spoken Descriptions of Injury/Gore, Mentions of Threats

🎥 The night is a bit difficult for you. Not only is your mind swirling with worries about this stalker of yours, you keep hearing the oddest of noises. It is a bit like plastic tapping on the hardwood floors, before a very soft "thump", followed by a plastic scraping noise, then more tapping. It is like a cycle that keeps going. As much as you want to check it out, you are too scared to do so. Not only that, but if you want any hopes of getting sleep, you need to stay in bed. You are exhausted, but getting up will only wake you up more and completely ruin your chances of rest. The odd noises can wait. Maybe they are Henry playing with Wally? Wally's shoes are plastic and Henry's floor is hardwood. The only carpet there is a blue circle one that covers about half of the exposed wood.

🎥 You, somehow, manage to get a little sleep. Unfortunately, you are woken up to the sound of your downstairs phone ringing. So, you get up to go grab it. You are surprised when Angela makes it to the phone before you, picking it up. You almost forgot that she would be home when you were around. It isn't often you get to spend time with her at home, except for holidays.

🎥"Yes, what is it? You want (Y/N)? Who is this? How do I know you aren't their stalker?" She says, her tone harsh and sharp. She has always had a bit of a... rude tone when talking on the phone. If you had to make a guess, it is due to her long work hours. This situation, however, seems extra hostile on her end. Though, considering what you hear from her side of the conversation, it is a bit understandable.

🎥"Oh, you're their boss? Why are you calling during their break, then?" It grows silent. You feel awkward standing there, waiting for her to finally give up the phone. You watch as her cold eyes grow wide and concerned. "What? Oh... oh dear... Um... I'll hand the phone over to them right now."

🎥 You are finally handed the phone. Putting it against your ear, you ask "Hello? What is it, Boss?" There is a sound of rustling papers, before your boss says "Well... Good news and bad news. Mostly bad news. However, the good news is that you have a few extra days, if not weeks, of vacation! Bad news is that it is because of severe injuries to the... Uhh... "Overnight Team". Is that what they called themselves...?" They trail off, before there is some more rustling of papers.

🎥"Wait... what happened last night?" You ask, remembering how Eddie's puppeteer was walking with a slight limp. Your boss sighs, looking through some more papers, before saying "I can only really tell you what happened to Wally's voice actor and Eddie's puppeteer. The voice actor, I can only tell you because they worked alongside you and I put it into your contract that you both will know of the other's condition during emergencies. I thought it would help you both coordinate your rehearsals. The puppeteer consented to letting others know of what happened before being wheeled out in a wheelchair."

🎥 You grow silent, not knowing what to say. Your boss, seemingly waiting for a cue to continue, decided to take your silence as one. "The voice actor got hit in the head with a falling, two gallon can of paint. We believe it hit his head at an angle, with the rim causing a dent in it. He was found bleeding, but still conscious, somehow. He was given first aid from one of the two camera operators who found him, before the two rushed him to the hospital in their car. He is currently in stable condition, but passed out on his way there, and hasn't woken up."

🎥 You stammer in shock, trying to find something to say. Eventually, you settle upon the words "Do you know what caused the accident?" "No. As I said, the cameras seem to be turning off whenever we are not filming. Well, technically, if I remember correctly, I said that they turned off around the time we stopped recording... we have just learned through this incident that they turn off whenever we are not recording. None of these incidents were caught on camera. The camera operators seem to believe that whoever is behind the messages did all of this."

🎥 He then moves onto Eddie's puppeteer, explaining "They were able to tell us some of what happened, but not who did it. They were found to be limping, which caused Poppy's puppeteer to ask what happened. When they lifted their pant leg, it was revealed that someone had put staples in their leg, before puting five pieces of construction paper over it and taping them on with a tick layer of scotch tape. They were given first aid, before being wheeled out to the present director's car. When asked what happened on the way there, they claimed that they were jumped, promptly stapled and papered, before being forced to call you and deliver some packages with the threat of having staples put into his throat if he didn't. He refused to tell who did it, but mentions that they saw him. So, we know that whoever stalking you is a guy... At least, I think. They were so shaken up they could barely speak, so it might've been a mistake when they said "he" when referring to who hurt them."

🎥 You feel sick... as well as a bit guilty. You had seen them yesterday, but didn't mention anything about their limping. You faintly hear Henry calling for you, so you try to tell your boss goodbye, but they ask a question. "I need to know what was in the package they brought to you. Can you quickly tell me what it is before you go?" Without thinking, you say "It was just Wally. You know, the puppet? He had some red on his shoes and was pretty scuffed up. Now, I gotta go. My nephew is calling." Then, you hang up before they can finish their sentence.

🎥 Turning around, you sigh in disdain. This day is already exhausting and all that has happened was a phone call. Henry scurries up to you, a large grin on his cheeks as he chirps "I was going to tell you this last night, but you were trying to sleep. Wally said he likes you!" You giggle, a tired, exasperated noise that you didn't mean to let out. Right now, you don't really want to hear about Wally... wait a second...

🎥"That's sweet, Henry. Where is Wally, though? I thought you had him, since you two were having a sleepover." He looks around the room, before saying "Well, I went to bed cuddling him. He said he would let me cuddle him to sleep after I told him I had nightmares if I didn't cuddle a plushie. He told me puppets were soft and plush, like plushies. When I woke up, though, he was gone, so I grabbed my Barnaby plushie, instead. I thought you might've taken him because you work with him."

🎥 You open your mouth to speak, only to close it again as you realize what he said. You think of your words carefully, before asking "Did Angela tell you that I am Wally's puppeteer?" He shakes his head, a big, goofy grin on his face as he joyfully says "Nope! Wally did! He said he loves you very much! Something about him not being able to move on set without your help! By the way, can you tell me what a "set" is? Wally wouldn't tell me, saying that we would've been up all night if I kept asking questions."

🎥 You look around the room, before asking "Do you have any idea where Wally might be-?" "(Y/N)! Did you put the freaky puppet in my room?! You know how much these things terrify me!" You look upstairs, seeing Angela gripping the railing with one hand and dangling Wally by his leg with the other. "No, Angela! I was just asking Henry where he was!" "Well, tell Henry not to do it again! He must've looked in my diary, too, because this THING was sitting on top of it, the pages opened for anyone to see!" With that, she drops Wally from the second floor, a loud "thud" resounding once he hits the floor.

🎥 You pick him up, dusting him off, before looking back down at Henry. "Be honest with me, did you put Wally in your mama's room? Did you look in her diary?" Henry shakes his head, tears pricking his eyes as he says "No! I told Wally not to go in there! He promised he wouldn't! Wally, why didn't you listen? Now mama's upset with me!" He storms up to his room, slamming the door shut.

🎥 You look down at the little puppet in your hands, confusion and concern eating at you. If, by the smallest of chances, what Henry said is true... then your stalker could be... A puppet? The words he said sounded similar to the types of things the notes said. Then there's the Wally voice you heard in the studio... The red paint on his shoes could've been...

🎥 You're face grows pale, before you look down at Wally's shoes and mutter "Oh God... Oh, God no..."

🎥 You look up to Angela's room, walking upstairs. You might be acting too rash. Coming to the conclusion that puppets are coming alive is a silly thing to do. Angela could've told Henry about your job. Hell, he could've also told him about the letters you have been getting. Maybe he just put the two together, thinking that it was all some silly little game or joke. Kids are like that. They are blissfully ignorant to how important some things are, right? Kids are smarter than most think, but they still have their little hiccups here and there. Angela must have told him...

🎥 You hope, at least... the other option is a bit sickening to think of.

[izaack-gauss]

𝐀 𝐅𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫𝐧

< TW: ED >

Made by my friend @eightisviii, this was an art trade and I just really wanted to share this. I love this story so much. :)

𝐋. A Father's Concern

Izaack dreaded the day would come when he would meet his dad again. Ever since that fateful day when he signed a contract to Nuke News and got into the screens at last, it hasn't been great. Izaack felt like everyone's eyes were on him; and they were, both literally and figuratively.

Chub wasn't something the entertainment industry wanted and even a little love handle felt like it would lose him his image. So instead, he settled for eating less.

Days turned into weeks and into months until Thanksgiving. Alas, Izaack did promise he would visit his dad during holidays, plus the D.D.D. had recorded this as one of his routine. If he didn't go out there, his dad will surely go inside his apartment himself in full hazmat suit and all and drag him out.

He stood in front of the standing mirror, put on a casual blue tee shirt with a white collar and fitted himself into black skinny pants. Once done, he pulled his collar and jutted it out, flashing a toothy smile at himself. But he knew it wasn't enough.

He sighed and hoped his dad wouldn't notice if he only took a bite or two of a turkey leg for this one, maybe none at all. Argo would like meat more than me anyways, he thought and grabbed his keys before heading out.

His destination: Isaac's house.

-—-—-—-

"Son, you haven't touched the turkey at all." Isaac said, looking sternly at his son.

"Ah, this? It's only polite I wait for you to eat as well, dad." Izaack said, but even as Isaac began to chew on his drumstick, Izaack only stared at his drumstick and played around with his fork.

Isaac's brows furrowed despite his calm demeanor and he swallowed his food before he sighed. He wiped the sauce that got in the corner of his mouth and firmly placed his hands on both sides of his plate.

"Son."

Izaack was snapped out of his reverie and he looked up to see Isaac crossing his arms and looking down at him, his lips pursed into a thin line. He sighed; hoping his dad wouldn't notice was wishful thinking after all.

"Son, what's going on with you?" Isaac asked, concerned. "You loved turkey and you wouldn't pass your old man's cooking, would you?"

"Never in a million years, dad!" Izaack said, but then, his eyes drifted back towards the turkey leg on his plate and his mind reeled, reluctant.

"Actions say more than words, Izaack," Isaac shook his head. "Just what is going on with you? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

"I know, it's just... It's a reporter's thing," Izaack mumbled.

"I didn't get that."

Izaack flinched, "Dad, you know I love my job..."

"And what does it have to do with a thanksgiving turkey?"

"A lot! The media is watching all the time, they're recording, they're laughing. Pointing and laughing. They'll call me fat, I'll lose my job, I'll—"

"Whoa there, son," Isaac's eyes widened and he reached for his son's hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. "You won't get fat over a drumstick, besides, you're a great reporter. They're the ones who have more to lose than you."

Izaack breathed in and out, trying to calm himself down. "I-I guess you're right, dad... I just.." He sighed and averted his eyes. "I still can't..."

"I'll let you come to your own terms," Isaac smiled at him and patted his hand before pulling away. "Still, it worries me. As your dad, you know I care about you."

"I know, dad."

"And even if you get fired for such a silly reason, I'm always here. Me and that lanky businessman you sure love to bring home."

Izaack groaned at his dad waggling his brows. "Dad!" His face heated up, unable to believe him.

"I'm surprised you didn't bring him to Thanksgiving. Kinda douchy, don't ya' think?"

Izaack rolled his eyes. "We're meeting up later for the later festivities. And what about Joel, hmm?"

"Joel?! He's..." Isaac coughed out a choking sound. "Just a co-worker, nothing more."

"Sure..." Izaack smiled.

Isaac smiled back. "Well, if you aren't going to eat that, might as well give it to Argo. Poor boy's been on a dog food diet for days."

"Oh yes, feeding a dog food that is for a dog. What a nightmare." Izaack joked and laughed heartily. "...I love ya', dad."

Isaac chuckled, "Love ya' too, Iza."

[limonnitsa]

SPOILER TO THE DISTURBANCE SCENE

As expected, there were already a lot of people on the platform. With the last of his strength, he continues to run to the right carriage, squeezing through the bustling crowd, trying to guess the right silhouette in the line of people.

"Sebastian?"

He immediately freezes. Sebastian looks up and sees her.

Ida was standing on the steps at the entrance to the train, and her hands clenched the railing as soon as she met his gaze. There was disbelief in her eyes, as if her most disturbing thoughts had been treacherously stolen and brought to light, for everyone's sight.

"What are you d-"

"Leaving without saying goodbye to your friends?" Sebastian slyly reproached. With an almost triumphant look, he climbs the step, holding his hand on the railing, as if he could hold the train itself. "Not very loyal for a Hufflepuff, don't you think?"

The rumble of the train was heard ahead. The remaining students began to hurriedly jump into the carriages, but Sebastian did not retreat. In another situation, he would have immediately expressed his resentment, disappointment, and at the end, proudly revealed his cards - he knew about all her plans, but he waited for an answer until the last minute. He gave her a chance to admit what she had done, to prove that she still deserved trust.

There was something unspoken desperately darting in Ida's gaze, and Sebastian knew: whatever it was, it had something to do with the truth.

"I-"

Another hum - there was no time left. Ida leaned forward and ran into Sebastian, squeezing him in her arms.

"I'll be back soon" she says in a hoarse voice. "Wait until the holidays are over. And please: don't do anything without me. I think I know how to help Anne."

Just like the first time, Sebastian freezes. Ida's hair touches his cheeks and they still smell like honey, and their embrace is still insanely warm and strong. The next second he panics: did Natty manage to teach Ida hand-witchcraft during their spat? He still hasn't found what he wanted, but why is it gradually felt easier? Has the moment been lost, and he is under the influence of the Unforgivable again?

"Ah... yeah" the only thing he could say.

"Hey, lovebirds, the train is leaving!" comes from the corridor. Sebastian recognized Imelda. Then there was someone's laughter.

Ida immediately lets go of Sebastian. He steps back, involuntarily, and watches the carriage slowly move away. There is no time or words left for farewell.

"Ahem, yes," she clears her throat, shuffling her foot. "Thank you. And thank you for seeing me off."

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

Sebastian returns to the living room that evening, completely broken, and Ominis finally smiles in a long time.

"You don't have to tell me - I know where you've been."

Sebastian feels hurt. Of course, Ominis knows everything. Sebastian frowns, tugging at his collar and fumbling with his tie. Then, without any excuse, he loudly closes the canopy of his bed and collapses onto it, curling up there. He won't explain himself - Ominis doesn't need it, to be fair.

However, that night the damned ghost of honey-scented hug haunted him till he fell asleep.

[mrs-monaghan]

hi shazzz, i hope u are doing well!!

i have a question to you... why do u think yoongi is dating el captxin? i heard some things, but one of them is that el captxin said he only likes girls on his ig once, when rumours about them were loud

No he didn't say that. And no he didn't say being shipped with Suga makes him uncomfortable. It's people making shit up again like always.

Okay guys. I promised. Guess its time. I will try to gather as much as I can. Can't promise I'll get everything thou 🤭 but I'll try 😁

Real name: Jang Yi-Jeong. Producer name: also on his IG elxcapitxn. But since I cannot spell that from memory I shall be calling him el captain or the captain 😁😁😁 let's get into it.

They do not have a ship name as far as I know so my friends and i go back and forth between Yingi and capitungi 🤷🏽‍♀️

First and most importantly and most suspicious is one important question we have to answer. Who are 2 of Suga's favourite members? That's right; Jimin and Jhope. And this here is the reason why we know Suga has a type 😏 Because the captain is basically Jhope and Jimin, combined. U don't believe me?

Say whaaaaaaaaaaat?

Say what whaaaaaaat????

I'm not saying he's identical to Hopemin. I'm just saying the captain looks like them. Like alot. These 2 photos especially remind me of Jimin.

And this one, well, this one is basically if Jihope had a baby

Yeah... I know. Let's just let that sink in for a second. Can someone check on JK real quick, and ask how he feels about this? Coz its nuts! Suga really said if it can't have them I'm gonna have the next best thing 🤭🤭🤭

Mkay.... now that the most sus thing has been established, let's get into the dots people have been connecting. Apart from their incredible chemistry, of course.

So, they've known eo for 6 years

Here is el captain in 2016 if anyone is curious how he looked like.

It's the way Suga looks at the captain.

The documentary, the dinner scene, they were kind of in their own world

It's the way the captain looks at Suga too

It's Suga's reaction when the captain yelled "Min yoongi I love you!"

That was way too cute 🥺🥺🥺🥺

Them at the beach in Thailand together when Suga was on tour.

Yoonminers tried to say the person with stripped shorts was Jimin but nah. The guy in all black is the captain.

Speaking of holidays. I don't recall exactly why but at the time people had reasons to believe Suga was here too and that he was most prolly the one who took the pic.

It's the way the captain's IG is full of Suga. 🥰 He even posted this himself.

Even if its mostly music. There's alot of Suga on his account. 🤭🤭

Speaking of IG posts, out of all Jimin posts, this is the only post the captain has liked

Your bias is showing captain!!!! 🤭🤭🤭

@magicshop-pjm1 pointed out something quite funny which is; el captain didn't like the Yoonmin Suchwita one, didn't like this photo from the concert he was at which were posted around the same time as the one above

Generally just hasn't liked any other Yoonmin posts either which, you know... I'm just putting that out there for no reason whatsoever...

Basically they spend ALOT of time together. Like alot, alot. Especially during Dday.

They spent days and nights together working on the album. Supportive bf captain was also behind the scenes when Suga was at Jimmy Fallon.

If u ask me that seems unnecessary unless they are really close. Clearly what they got isn't limited to the studio.

Here's a thread about them from 2016 till now.

In conclusion: ig we now know who was in this room

[canirove]

Friends, lovers… and an orange | Chapter 23

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

“Yes. I know, yes. I… Yes, Erin. I know” Mason sighed. “I will. Ok. You too. Bye” he said before hanging up. “Erin wishes us all Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year.”

“It will be merry and happy if we manage to get rid of her.”

“Mum!” he said, trying to look serious and not laugh.

“Sorry” Toni shrugged. “Anyway, have you decided yet what you are going to tell her to not go back to London and sign the new contract?”

That year for the holidays they all had decided to spend them in New York with Luca and Alex, hoping that putting an ocean between Mason and his agency would help them forget about them and everything that what was coming for a while. But judging by how Erin was calling him daily, it was going to be more difficult than they thought. 

“That I got sick. Like with a cold or something like that. Then that Addie got sick too and I want to be with her. And if in the meantime it wants to snow so we can't fly…” he shrugged.

“Your wish may be granted very soon” Adele said, joining him and Toni in the living room of the house their parents had rented. “It has started to snow.”

“Really?”

“Yes” Elizabeth said, walking behind her daughter. They had gone out to do some late Christmas shopping, Adele not being able to find one of her gifts for Mason back home. “It isn't too much, but if it continues during the night, it's very likely that this year we will also be having some white Christmas.”

“Ready for another snowball fight, Turlington?” Mason asked Adele with a teasing smile, walking towards where she was standing.

“I was born ready, Mount” she replied.

“Have I told you today that I love you?” 

“Not enough times” she giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Ok, I think this is our cue to leave” Toni said, getting up from the sofa. “Fancy a cup of tea?”

“Please” Elizabeth replied. “Who knew they would become so…”

“Cheesy?” Toni chuckled.

“Yes. Adele has never liked that.”

“Growing up you were allergic to anything romantic too. But then you met the love of your life, and boom! You became a real life heart eyes emoji. It must run in the family.”

“I never giggled like that.”

“Oh, you did, Elizabeth. You did” Toni laughed.

“But do you… Do you really think he is the love of her life? The one?” she asked while looking at Mason and Adele kissing and giggling like two teenagers.

“I do. And she is his” Toni smiled. “C'mon, let's go make us that tea and give them some privacy.”

“Yeah… I don't want to be here when your son starts putting his tongue down my daughters throat.”

“Oh, shush!” Toni laughed again, linking her arm with Elizabeth's and leaving the room, Mason and Adele definitely not noticing.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Addie… Adele… Don't.”

“Too late, Mount.”

“Addie, I swear I didn't mean to hit your face with that snowball, it was just my bad aim” Mason said.

“Excuses, excuses.”

“Addie… please. Remember that I need my face for work, that I make a living out of it.”

“But you are taking a sabbatical year, aren't you? You won't be needing it any time soon.”

“What about you, tho? Do you want an ugly boyfriend? One that can't kiss you because his lips are all swollen after getting hit by a snowball? Think about it.”

“Umm…” Adele said. “You actually are a really good kisser.”

“I am.”

“Then I guess I'll have to hit you somewhere else” she shrugged.

“What? Addie!”

“I'm sorry, Mase. It is what it is.”

“But I also need my body! Like, what if you hit my chest and hurt my heart?”

“What?” she laughed.

“And think about my abs. You love following the shape of them with your finger, and if you hurt me there, that will be painful and you won't be able to do it.”

“Mase…”

“And what if you miss and you hit me between my legs, uh? Goodbye to our children!”

“Mason!” Adele laughed again. “I'm going to throw this snowball at you whether you like it or not. I'm sorry.”

“But Addie… Addie!” he said when she threw the ball. “Oh my God, Adele. And then I have bad aim” he laughed. 

“Mase...”

“That was so bad, Addie.”

“Mase…” she repeated.

“You had to hit me, not the tree behind me.”

“Mason!” Adele said, throwing herself at him and pushing him down, a huge chunk of snow falling from one of the tree's branches just where he had been standing.

“Shit” he said, Adele on top of him. “That was close.”

“So close” she whispered, flashbacks from the previous Christmas coming back. “Did you know that during winter you have nineteen freckles?”

“What?” he laughed. 

“During the summer after being in the sun you get a lot more, but right now you have only nineteen.”

“Have you counted them?”

“I have.”

“Oh my God, Addie” he chuckled. 

“They are cute.”

“Because I am cute” he smirked.

“Seriously, guys? We are in a park, a public place where there are children!” Luca said behind them. “Can't you wait until we are home to have sex?”

“Oh, fuck off” Adele said, standing up.

“Hey!” Luca complained when she hit him with the snowball she had made as she got up. “That hurt, Addie!”

“Not sorry” she smiled.

“Not sorry? Oh, you asked for this!” he said, making another snowball to throw at her but hitting Mason instead as she hid behind him. 

“Adele!”

“I'm sorry, Mase. But you deserved it for hitting me.”

“I… come here” he said, making a snowball and starting to run after her while she laughed and screamed.

“Urgh” Luca groaned. “I liked you better when you weren't together. You are insufferable now with your cute couple crap.”

“Shut up and let them be happy” Alex said from behind a tree before hitting him with a snowball. 

“You little shit” Luca said before starting to run after him just as Mason was doing with Adele, the four of them ending up fighting against each other like they used to do as kids, laughing and screaming until they were soaking wet from all the snow.

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

“Three, two, one… Happy New Year!” everyone in the room screamed.

“Happy New Year, Addie.”

“Happy New Year, Mase” she smiled before kissing him.

“Urgh, you two are seriously insufferable” Luca said, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, stop it” Adele laughed, hitting his arm. “It's not our fault that you are sad and single” she teased him.

“Actually…” Alex said, Luca giving him a murderous look.

“Actually what?” she said, looking between him and her brother. 

“Luca may be seeing someone.”

“What?” Adele and Mason said at the same time.

“You are seeing someone and you haven't told your sister about it?” she said, hitting him again.

“I'm sorry” Luca said. 

“Who is he? Do I know him? Have I met him?”

“No.”

“Don't lie to her, Luca” Alex said. “She's into football, she's definitely seen him play.”

“He's a football player?” Adele gasped. “Oh my God.”

“Shh, lower down your voice” her brother said. “Anyone could hear you.”

“People are too busy dancing and celebrating. I don't think they are paying attention to our conversation” Mason said.

“Exactly. So spill the beans, Luca. Who is he? How did you meet? I want all the details.”

“Again, I'm not gonna tell you everything about him in a place like this. He isn't out, you know? But we met this summer in Miami.”

“Likely place for a footballer to be during his holidays” Mason chuckled.

“Yeah, well. A mutual friend introduced us. When he said I was your brother, his friends started to talk about how hot you and mum are, that Mason is the luckiest guy…”

“I am” he grinned, kissing Adele's cheek and making her giggle.

“But then when we were kind of alone, he told me that he thought I was the hottest member of the family.”

“Smooth” Adele laughed. “So is he the reason why you've been going to London so often these past months?”

“Yeah” Luca said with a shy smile. “He can't travel because he is playing all the time, so since my schedule is more flexible…”

“He's actually thinking about ending his degree back home” Alex said.

“Really?”

“Yeah” Luca said again, his shy smile growing wider. “But I don't know, I haven't made up my mind yet. What I do know is that I like him a lot, that I have never felt this with any other guy, and that even though it isn't going to be easy because of his career and everything that surrounds it… I think he's worth it.”

“Aww, Luca” Adele said, hugging his little brother. “I am so happy you've found someone.”

“Thank you, sis” he said, hugging her back. “It was about time, wasn't it?” he whispered, doing a little nod towards Alex and confirming what she had always suspected: that he had feelings for him. 

“Yeah” she smiled. “Should we make a toast? To Luca and his new love!”

“To Luca and his new love” Mason and Alex said before drinking. 

“I guess there won't be a New Year kiss this time since you are seeing someone” Mason said.

“We actually made that up” Luca shrugged.

“You what?”

“Yeah” he shrugged again. “We don't have that tradition. We kissed so you would also kiss and realize that you were in love with each other. Though if I had known you were going to end up being so annoying, I would have not come out with that plan.”

“Idiot” Adele said, hitting his brother once again. 

“Anyway, I have to go. There is a phone call I have to make.”

“To your boyfriend living on the other side of the pond?” she smirked. 

“Precisely. So if you'll excuse me…” Luca said before leaving, Alex disappearing somewhere else too.

“I can't believe they made that up” Adele said.

“I actually can” Mason laughed.

“Was that kiss the reason why you were so weird the next morning? Because I said it meant nothing but to you it actually did?” she asked, remembering that night and what had happened after.

“Yeah…” he sighed.

“I'm so sorry I hurt you, Mase” she said, caressing his cheek. “But I was so confused and scared… Because I did feel things when you kissed me last year, you know? I just… I just didn't understand them. Or wanted to.”

“It's ok, don't worry. What matters is that everything worked out, and that here we are. Together” he smiled, wrapping his arms around her waist.

“Together” she smiled back. “I guess it did bring us good luck.”

“Definitely” Mason chuckled. “And we are gonna need a lot of luck this new year for your crazy plan to work, so I think we should kiss. A lot.”

“Can't think of a better plan.”

“Not even if I suggest…” he said, whispering into her ear some of the naughtiest things he had told her yet. “Shall we?” he said, meeting her eyes and making her feel goosebumps all over her body, her body temperature rising. Will she ever stop feeling like that when he gave her that look? Probably not. 

“Let's go” Adele said, taking his hand on hers and leaving the party.

[offorestsongs]

heart-shaped locket

ship: oc x canon (Rook x Lysander)

summary: Lysander, anxious about their imminent separation, has an idea.

a/n: so. uh. this is something i briefly mentioned in their ship intro but i wanted to kind of expand on it so i wrote a small ficlet. enjoy, i guess

“Whatever’s the matter, mon coeur? You look uncharacteristically serious.”

Most people would have called Lysander serious, no matter the situation ― it was sweet that Rook could tell the difference between his usual lack of expression and an actual grave matter. It only made Lysander’s heart felt heavier.

“Oh― I―” Lysander was sure in his ideas when inviting Rook over, but now, seated on the old couch in the Ramshackle lounge, so close that their knees were touching, all the earlier confidence seemed to have fled his body.

He felt Rook’s hand on his cheek, warm and secure. He leaned into the familiar touch, more on instinct than anything else, but still refused to meet Rook's gaze.

“I so always want to hear what you have in mind.” Rook smiled. “So?”

Well. In that case, Lysander had no other choice. And besides, he knew well all of his doubts were unfounded. If anyone would like the idea, it was Rook.

“It's nothing bad or anything—” Lysander said, digging around in the pockets of his thick woolen cardigan. “It's just that… The summer holidays are almost here. And then you'll go on your internship afterwards and I'll stay here and…”

Finally, somewhere between a stray embroidery needle, some loose change, a button that he was meant to sew back to one of his blouses for forever and a crumpled note that Ace had passed him during class (a stickman drawing of Deuce half asleep on his desk), Lysander had fished out the exact thing that he was looking for.

“I just thought it would be nice to have something more, uh, physical to remember each other.”

On Lysander’s open, outstretched palm lay two identical heart-shaped necklaces. They were plain, silver in color, and clearly not bought first hand. Time had dulled the color, making it lose its shine. It was all Lysander could afford, yes, but truth be told, he liked the vintage, time-bitten aesthetic of it better. More romantic, he thought.

Rook had picked one of them up, already clearly delighted.

“Ah!” With a soft “click”, the heart locket popped open. “Now we can carry photographs of each other close to our chests. Marvellous! What a romantic idea, mon fleur!”

Lysander’s cheeks flushed pink. “Uh. Well. I mean. You can do that too if you want to but, uh, actually I had something different in mind.”

Suddenly, the dirty-gray fabric of the couch was the most interesting thing in the world to look at.

“Now you have me intrigued.”

Still not looking at Rook, from his other pocket Lysander took out his belowed pair of sewing scissors. They felt cold and heavy in his hand.

“I actually thought we could put there, uh, you know, our hair. I thought it would be sweet, to carry a part of you over my heart, no matter where I go. And… and to think that you're doing the same. That way, it's almost like we're not separated at all.”

Before Lysander ever had a chance to felt embarrassed by his words, Rook's lips were on his, kissing him breathless.

“Yes!” Rook said with all the enthusiasm only he could master. “Truly a beautiful idea, mon cheri! You really must share a part of my heart, to think of such things.”

Lysander smiled faintly. His heart was still beating like it was trying to escape his ribcage, but a sense of giddy happiness came over him. Of course his anxiety was all for nothing.

He put the scissors in Rook's hands. “Well then… you could cut mine and I could cut yours?”

[punsmaster69]

11/FEB/20XX

got to practice my healing magic some more today as frisk continually papercut themselves during the construction of a heart garland.

"starting to wonder if that paper's red from paint or your 𝘣𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘥 at this point, kiddo."

"I'm not bleeding 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 much."

frisk re-did a section they messed up from being cut, extra careful not to get sliced in the same way twice.

"so..."

"you just make these garland thingies for every holiday now, huh?"

turning to look at me, expression completely unchanged -

"Yes."

they answered confidently.

"..all right then."

they put glue around the edges of a paper heart and dipped it in glitter; repeating this process until they had however many shiny hearts they deemed 'enough'.

by this point, i'd already come to accept the glitter that was going to be everywhere forever.

that stuff doesn't come out of carpet well.

however, apparently me staring at the glitter going everywhere gave frisk a terrible idea.

"Hey, Sans. Look at me for a second."

i did.

i shouldn't have.

with a handful of glitter, frisk blew as hard as they could to coat my face in a glittery pink.

". . . ."

they couldn't stop laughing.

i took what i could off, eventually sure i had to have gotten most of it.

there was a knock at the door.

"Hello, Sans."

"I am here to pick Frisk up."

"Waitwaitwait, I'm almost done! Give me like five more minutes?"

"...Alright, five minutes it is."

"Me and Sans will be outside chatting in the meantime."

"Got it."

frisk sped up their paper-snipping.

"don't cut yourself again in the five minutes i'm not with you, ok?"

"I haven't cut myself THAT many times!"

"...."

".....Okay. I'll be more careful."

me and tori stepped just outside the door. the weather was just cool enough to still be pleasant.

she looked at me and started to say something before pausing.

"..Your eyesockets are looking quite glittery today!"

"."

"it's."

"it's still there??"

"If you mean-"

"the glitter."

"..Yes, it is."

"goddamn it."

"It is not a terrible look."

"thought i got all the glitter out. thought wrong, apparently."

"How did this happen, anyway?"

frisk would definitely get in trouble if i told toriel they blew glitter in my face.

i rejected that avenue of petty revenge.

"fell asleep without realizing i went face-first into the stuff."

"I see."

"If you are really so determined to remove it immediately, perhaps we could try some tape."

"worth a shot."

frisk looked confused when we re-entered the house.

"It hasn't been five minutes yet. It's been like... three and a half."

"I'm extending your time a bit."

"SICK! For how long?"

"..However long it takes to remove glitter from this skeleton's face."

"Oh."

tori poked around the room for some tape.

confused as to why they weren't being scolded, frisk gave me a questioning look.

"(didn't tell her.)"

"(Why?)"

"('s not a big deal, so why bother?)"

"(..Because you didn't want to bother.)"

"(yup.)"

"(Should've expected a lazy reason for it.)"

"If not here, where might you keep your tape?"

"oh, i think i had it in my room."

"..What for??"

i remembered taping things to a certain card.

"probably broke something. who knows."

"Alright then, I suppose."

"Is it alright if I go in your room?"

"yeah i- uhhhhh."

"actually, hold on."

opening and closing my door behind me, i looked around my room. no way in hell was i deep-cleaning the place, but kicking loose clothes under my bed and straightening the sheets a little was a start.

and by start i mean

"good enough."

then i opened the drawer that valentine's junk and the tape dispenser were sharing space in.

"ok, you can come in."

i kicked the drawer shut. tori entered and closed the door behind her. she looked around and inspected the bed for a moment.

"It is much nicer with a frame, is it not?"

"pretty cozy, i guess. still breaking that habit of flopping onto the floor though."

"Is that what that is for?"

pointing to a light i'd attached to the bottom of my bed.

"to remind me my bed's raised."

"Smart solution."

"May I?"

glancing at my bed.

"go ahead, but fair warning that my sheets'll probably make you smell of funky skeleton odor."

sitting down on the edge of my bed, she laughed.

"I do not mind 'skeleton odor'. Whatever it is that entails."

i sat down next to her.

"so, uh."

"you turnin' me into a tape mummy for this?"

motioning for me to turn around, toriel guided my head to her lap.

"...what's-"

tape was suddenly pressed into my left eye socket.

"....."

"no warning, huh?"

"Sorry. I figured you had understood where this was going."

"well i... certainly understand 𝘯𝘰𝘸."

the experience of having tape put 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘰 my sockets wasn't any less bizarre and slightly jarring than the experience having tape pulled 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 my sockets, but i think i'm pretty much glitter-free. at least she was more gentle from then on.

when we exited my room, i noticed frisk suddenly had headphones on. i tossed the ball of glitter-coated tape at their head to catch their attention. it bounced onto the carpet. they looked up and took off their headphones.

"Oh, you done making out?"

"Frisk! I was not 'making out' with Sans."

"she was helping me undo 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 mess, y'know."

"I thought you said you fell asleep in the glitter?"

"......"

frisk's face begged me not to tell. once again, i set aside the easy revenge.

"yeah, i did. anyway, you better take 'em home before they sparkle up the place any more."

frisk swept their paper and glitter mess into their bag and hopped up from the floor.

"Did you finish your creation, my child?"

proudly unraveling a glittery paper-heart string.

"Yup."

"It is very pretty! We can hang it up when we get home."

they swung up the front door and darted across the lawn to hop into tori's car.

toriel stopped for a moment, pausing to lock her eyes with mine. with a quick glance backwards to see where frisk was, she bent down a little to raise my hand to her lips.

"returnin' the favor?"

"It is only fair."

she gave a hopeful smile.

"You will visit me on the fourteenth, will you not?"

"..yeah. 'course i will."

[oldiesstationlover11607]

heyyyy 😋😋

as promised, i am back with a new halloween idea since the last one was SO STINKIN CUTEEEE

so im thinking RAB tyler x reader at a halloween party! like stereotypical-college halloween-frat-party type scene. (maybe reader and tyler coincidentally showed up in matching costumes lol)

tyler and reader arrived separately, but they both go to Ohio State Uni and have some classes together, so they've seen each other around. which is why they're immediately taking refuge in each other's company the wholee time. theyve both been abandoned by the friends that dragged them to that god forsaken party in the first place, and neither of them are drinking or smoking or anything, and the music sucks.

flirty banter ensuesss

and i know youve been experimenting with smut, SO i'll let you take the reins on this one a bit more.

either tyler and reader forget to leave room for jesus during the party and decide to take refuge in a bedroom together (smirk)

orrr tyler shows reader his music and they go back to his studio together for a cutesy, fluffy, musical bonding moment

can't wait to see how it comes out!!!

take care of yourself!! 🫶🏼

🕸🕸🕸🕸

Ghostbuster - Tyler Joseph x Reader

Warnings: None lol - no smut bc i wanted to keep it cute

Word Count: 2019

A/N: I literally cannot wait for this vampire fic i've got planned and this was a great warm up! keep requesting halloween stuff before it's too late!!

It was one of those chaotic nights at Ohio State in October, Halloween parties scattered across campus. But somehow, I found myself at one of the bigger and louder parties–something high school senior me would never have imagined. It was the kind of party where I’d expected to be hanging out with my friends and having a good time. But no one told me that my so-called friends would ditch me the moment they saw a dance floor crowded with zombies and vampires–though I wasn’t too surprised, vampires were the best dancers. 

I stood at the edge of the main room, arms crossed, trying not to visibly cringe at the music blaring old viral hits. The bass rattled my bones, a thudding pulse that did nothing to improve my mood. My favorite holiday was turning out to be a bust despite the amazing modern queen of hearts rocker costume I’d thrown together. I was so proud of it but none of my friends understood the reference.

I was mentally debating whether I could sneak out without anyone noticing when I spotted him. Tyler. I’d seen him around campus and in a couple of my english classes despite campus being big. He was quiet, didn’t talk much, but there was something about him that always intrigued me. Maybe it was the fact that he was always scribbling in that notebook of his, or the way he seemed to get lost in thought even when the professor was droning on about literary theory. He was standing awkwardly by a wall across the room, tugging at the sleeves of his shirt. He was dressed as a Ghostbuster, of all things, and somehow the outfit looked just right on him—oversized jumpsuit, clunky proton pack, and a slightly bewildered expression like he’d rather be anywhere else. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight. Tyler, in his quiet, introverted glory, standing amidst the chaos of a college Halloween party, looked almost comically out of place.

I hesitated, debating whether I should go talk to him. We’d only ever exchanged a few words in class, the typical “do you have the notes?” or “what did you think of that reading?” kind of conversations. But something in me felt drawn to him tonight, maybe because I knew exactly how he felt—trapped in a place where we didn’t belong, surrounded by people who didn’t really see us.

Before I could second-guess myself, I started making my way over, weaving through a mess of slutty witches. When I reached him, he looked up, his brown eyes wide with mild surprise.

“Hey,” I said, trying not to sound as awkward as I felt. “Busting ghosts solo tonight?”

His lips twitched into a small smile. “Yeah, you know, it’s a tough job, but someone’s gotta do it.”

I laughed, the sound bright and unexpected, even to me. “Well, you’re doing a great job standing guard by this wall. Any ghost sightings yet?”

“Not yet,” he said, leaning back slightly as if relaxing in my presence. “But I’m staying vigilant.”

“Good call.” I tilted my head, giving him an exaggerated once-over. “Love the costume, by the way. You went all out.”

He looked down at himself, shrugging with a bashful smile. “It was either this or going as a sad college student who got dragged to a party he didn’t want to go to .”

I chuckled. “That’s a little too real. Ghostbuster is a better choice.”

“And you’re the, uh, Queen of Hearts?” he asked, his gaze drifting over my costume. “But... cooler. More punk.”

“Exactly!” I said, a grin spreading across my face. “You’re the first person to get that all night.”

He smirked, rubbing the back of his neck. “I have an appreciation for good costumes. And you definitely pull it off.”

“Thanks.” We stood there for a second, just smiling at each other, the noise of the party fading into the background. It felt... easy, natural, even though we barely knew each other. And then a thought struck me, and I couldn’t help but blurt it out.

“Hey, this is going to sound crazy, but... want to get out of here?”

His eyebrows shot up. “Like... leave?”

“Yeah.” I gestured around at the rowdy crowd and pulsing lights. “I don’t know about you, but I’m not exactly having the time of my life here. We could— I don’t know, grab a coffee or just go for a walk. Somewhere quieter?”

Tyler hesitated, glancing around as if weighing his options. Then he looked back at me, something softening in his gaze. “You know what? Yeah. Let’s do it.”

A few minutes later, we were outside, the crisp autumn air biting at our skin as we stepped away from the thumping bass of the party. The street was lined with other groups of costumed students milling about, some shouting and laughing, others huddled together in quieter conversations. But for the first time all night, I felt like I could breathe.

Tyler walked beside me, hands shoved into his pockets, the plastic proton pack bouncing lightly against his back. We didn’t say much at first, just strolled aimlessly through the leaf-covered streets, the noise of the party fading behind us. After a few blocks, we found ourselves at a small park tucked away between campus buildings, its winding paths lit by dim streetlights and the faint glow of jack-o’-lanterns set out along the walkway.

“Wow, this place is cute,” I murmured, taking in the rows of glowing pumpkins and the few scattered benches. “Never knew it was here.”

“Me neither,” Tyler said softly, his gaze sweeping over the scene. “I guess we’re both discovering new things tonight.”

We wandered over to a bench near the center, where a particularly intricate pumpkin carving of a haunted house flickered softly. Tyler glanced at it, then looked at me, a curious smile on his lips.

“So, what made you pick the Queen of Hearts? You don’t seem like the ‘off with their heads’ type.”

I laughed, sitting down on the bench and crossing my legs. “It’s more about the aesthetic. I wanted something bold, something that stood out, but with a twist. Plus, I had to wear a crown at some point in my life, right?”

“Right.” He nodded seriously, but his eyes were sparkling with humor. “And you look good in one.”

“Thank you,” I said, tipping my imaginary crown at him. “Now, what about you Mr Buster? I mean, besides the obvious ‘saving the world’ angle.”

He shrugged, settling beside me on the bench. “I like old movies. The classics. Ghostbusters just felt... I don’t know, nostalgic? Plus, I already had the jumpsuit from last year.”

“Recycling costumes?” I teased. “I’m not sure if that’s very ‘heroic’ of you.”

“Heroes have to be practical, too.” He grinned, then looked down at his hands, which were resting on his knees. “Honestly, I just didn’t want to be something flashy. I’m not really a... center-of-attention kind of guy.”

I nodded slowly, understanding more than I expected to. “No, I get that. But still, you came out tonight. That’s more than a lot of people would do.”

“Yeah, well.” He looked up at me, his expression thoughtful. “Maybe it wasn’t a total waste.”

The way he said it, so quietly, made my heart skip a beat. I swallowed, suddenly feeling nervous in a way I hadn’t been before. This was more than just two classmates killing time together. There was something here, something I wanted to explore, even if it scared me a little.

“So, what do you usually do, if not parties?” I asked, shifting the conversation slightly to steady myself.

Tyler leaned back, his gaze turning distant for a moment. “I, uh... I spend a lot of time making music. Writing songs, recording. It’s kind of my escape, I guess.”

I perked up, curiosity sparking. “Really? That’s awesome. I always wondered what you were scribbling in that notebook during class.”

He smiled, a little sheepishly. “Yeah, it’s mostly lyrics. Stuff I don’t really show people.”

“Can I hear some of it?” The question slipped out before I could stop it, but I didn’t want to take it back.

Tyler looked at me, eyes wide, then glanced away, biting his lip. “Maybe. I mean, if you want to. My studio’s not far from here.”

My heart jumped. Studio? “You have a studio?”

“More like a basement with some equipment,” he said quickly, rubbing the back of his neck. “But... yeah. I could show you, if you’re interested.”

I didn’t even hesitate. “I’d love that.”

The “studio” turned out to be in the basement of an off-campus house Tyler shared with a couple of other music majors. The room was small but packed with gear—guitars leaning against the walls, a keyboard set up in one corner, and a laptop surrounded by mics and cables on a desk covered in sheets of scribbled lyrics. It smelled faintly of old books and coffee, and it was a little messy, but it was cozy, too. I could see pieces of Tyler in every corner.

“Sorry, it’s kind of... chaotic,” he said, glancing around with an embarrassed smile.

“I like it,” I said honestly, stepping further inside and taking it all in. “Feels... lived in.”

Tyler relaxed a little, moving over to his computer and opening up a file. The sound filled the small space like magic. Then he glanced up at me, his expression shy but open.

“Mind you this is super rough, and I–”

“It’s good,” I interrupted and he nodded, smiling to himself. 

His voice, soft and warm, filled the room, and the melody wrapped around me like magic. The song was raw, beautiful, and filled with a mix of longing and hope. As he sang, I felt like I was seeing a side of him that no one else had—the real Tyler, not the quiet guy from class.

When the last note faded into the air, I just stared at him, completely speechless.

“That was incredible,” I finally managed, my voice full of awe.

He ducked his head, a blush creeping up his cheeks. “Thanks. I wasn’t sure if you’d like it.”

“I did. I definitely did.”

He looked up at me, a small, genuine smile tugging at his lips. For a moment, we just sat there, grinning at each other. Then, the room fell into a comfortable silence, the kind that didn’t need filling with words. It felt... nice.

Tyler scratched the back of his neck, glancing at me shyly. “So, um... I know it’s getting kind of late, but... if you don’t want to go back yet, you could stay a bit longer? We could, like, listen to more music or just... hang out?” He hesitated for a beat, then added, “I think it’d be cool to get to know you better.”

My heart did a little flip at the invitation. “I'd love to.”

His smile widened, and then, as if realizing something, he fumbled in his pocket. “Uh, here—let me give you my number, you know, in case... well, you don’t have to leave right away or anything, but just in case.”

I grinned as we exchanged numbers, the moment feeling so sweet and simple, like it was the beginning of something special. I added him on social media too, our phones pinging softly as the connections were made.

As we settled back in, the music softly playing in the background, Tyler glanced over at me, his voice soft. “So... you want to stay the night? I mean, not in a weird way—just, we can keep listening to music and hanging out. No pressure, but... I think it'd be fun.”

My heart warmed at the offer, and I nodded, smiling at him. “Yeah, that sounds perfect.”

And just like that, what had started as a chaotic, disappointing night turned into one I knew I’d remember forever. Sitting there with Tyler, in his cozy makeshift studio, with the soft hum of music around us, I felt like I’d stumbled into something unexpected and wonderful. And I didn’t want it to end anytime soon.

//

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