#i put crazy work into this. note the wind chimes

[loumandivorce]

the horror of my creation... my hanky hat song lofi remix. credit to luke brandon field for vocals, massobeats for the lofi track, and saintundying for the song cover 💗

[cosmal]

okay so im currently struggling with really bad body image/restriction & all i can think of recently is james potter just being so, so kind and patient and gentle and helpful with a shy s/o struggling with the same things. letting them wear his quidditch sweater when they're insecure, making sure they eats, forehead kisses when he's proud of them, etc. i totally respect if you're not comfy writing for this, i adore your works<3

sweater

summary — james gives you his sweater when you're not feeling comfortable with yourself.

content — james potter x fem!afab!reader, tw for reader with body issues and eating issues, also I tried to keep the body description low because I didn't want to be too specific on why reader is feeling this way

note — thank u for the request lovely! i hope you're feeling better 🤍

You told James you’d be no longer than ten minutes. That ten minutes has well passed now and you’re sure he’s worrying crazy about you.

You did arrive when you said you would, but you’ve been standing outside the pub for at least twenty, trying to find the courage to go inside.

He’s probably sitting all alone inside and the thought makes you feel even worse about yourself, but still, your feet are stuck on the pavement and you can’t find the motivation to move.

You can feel your phone buzzing in your pocket, you ignore it because you know it'll be James. You think messaging him might be easier.

You stare at your reflection in the dirty window of the pub's front entrance instead of fishing for your phone. You look at your outfit - the last of many you'd rifled through whilst crying on the floor in front of your cupboard - and notice how it looks worse than it did in the lighting of your stuffy room.

It feels worse, too. The wind picks up and clings the material in spots you wish it didn't. You keep tugging the dress in an attempt to not feel so suffocated and end up feeling pathetic. You don't remember it being so short and the thought of going inside to sit down terrifies you. The idea of it riding up to show more of your legs, and it bunching around your torso makes you want to go home and sit in your pyjamas and fall asleep.

You don't want James to think you're ditching him, but for every possible scenario you see yourself in, all you can think about is how your outfit ruins it for you. The way you're feeling right now - the way you always feel about yourself - ruins it for you. Will ruin it for James.

Your phone dings and you think he knows you don't want to speak on the phone.

Everything ok love? xxx

You stare at the message until it blurs. You put him out of his misery and message back, feeling worse by the second.

sorry jamie. wont be long. x

You stand outside still and kick gravel. Holding your breath like a dizzy head is going to help in any way. You tug at the hem of your dress until the stitching cracks and try to find any ounce of confidence to go inside.

Patrons rush past you to get inside, out of the elements of the chilly, autumn afternoon air. You hear the bell above the door chime and then you hear his voice.

"There you are," he says softly, walking down the last few steps. His nice shoes click against the sandstone and you notice straight away how lovely he looks. His tan cords and maroon jumper. So simple but so very James. Effortlessly pretty.

He stands so close your shoes almost touch. "I'm sorry," you say in replacement of your usual warm greeting.

James frowns while opening his arms for a hug. You panic because he's about to feel you under his weight, scared of where he'll hold his hands. Though the thought of being buried in his chest almost makes the idea less painful.

"What're you sorry for, hmm?" he asks and you try to focus on anything else than the burning in your chest.

His scent, like spearmint and coffee, and a perfume of yours that you're not wearing now. The idea makes you tamp down the urge to cry. His chest is firm under your cheek where you've buried your face. You focus too hard on him for too long and you forget to answer.

He pulls you back and you startle. You miss his heat sorely. "Sweetheart?"

You clear your throat and blink. "Sorry."

"Y/N."

You shake your head and try to swallow. The words get caught in your throat and the way he's looking at you makes it harder. Soft eyes and an even softer frown. He's not pitying you, he looks sad. Even worse when he watches a tear dribble down your cold cheek.

"Hey," he says, half panicked, half worried. They blur into one emotion when he raises his hand to catch the tear before it curves down your chin. "C'mon."

He ushers you away from the entrance and to the brick wall curled around the side. Off of the pavement and under the awning to the side of the steps. "What's the matter."

Your tears slow because he's got his hands all over you. It's confusing because you don't want to be felt but he's not doing it for himself. He wants to calm you down.

"It's embarrassing," you mumble, craning your neck to wipe your cheek on the sleeve of your dress. You hope you don't get all snotty because it'll be embarrassing and you have no tissues.

"Let me be the judge of that," he says with the barest hint of a smile. He's still frowning and your chest feels worse. You hate it when you make him frown.

He'd never judge you. Never over anything that wasn't stupid, despite the fact that this feels stupid to you, he'd never. Over your favourite movie or how you like your eggs, maybe, but not this.

You say, "My dress," at a volume you're surprised he can hear.

"Your dress?" He looks at your outfit and you want to squirm out from where he's got his big hands on your arms.

"I don't," you take a big, gasping breath and try to fix your voice, "I don't like how I look in it. I don't like how I look in anything."

You and James have had this conversation before. It wasn't as emotional as right now, but he'd been lovely and understanding about the whole thing and he might be sweeter than he was before you told him if that's entirely impossible.

He tells you all the time how lovely you look. He knows when to compliment you on your outfit without being completely obvious about it. When he can tell you're struggling to choose an outfit or when he catches you staring at yourself in the mirror. I love that dress on you, honey. Or You've got your favourite top on! He's never specific but he always knows how to make you feel better.

"You feel uncomfortable?" he asks.

He never diminishes how you're feeling. If you don't like how you look, you don't like it. He likes to figure out how to help instead of telling you that you look good. That would be useless, a two-second conversation isn't going to get to the root of your problem straight away.

"I don't like how it feels on me," you sniffle, pulling at the material, "It's like I can't - like I can't breathe."

"Do you want to go home? We can eat in if you're feeling up to it?" He squeezes at your biceps and it feels nice. You lower your shoulders.

The idea is tempting, but you won't ruin his night. "I want to eat here."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," you say, not sounding very convincing.

"You're not lying to me?"

"Jamie..."

He bites his lip before letting you go. Reaching down to grasp the hem of his big sweater before tugging it over his head. He pushes his glasses back up his nose but ignores the mess of his hair.

"Arms up," he smiles.

"What?" you giggle despite yourself.

"You can wear this if you want," he says, bunching the soft woollen sleeves in his hands.

"You'll be cold," you tell him. All he's got is his white cotton tee.

"No I won't," he says firmly with a shake of his head.

You lift your arms because you won't win. And because you kinda do want to wear his jumper. You push your hands through the sleeves while he slips it over your head. When you pop back out with ruffled hair and a demure smile, James smiles even worse.

"How do I look?" you ask, twirling a little because you can't help it. It's strange how better you feel already. It's also not because James has that effect.

"Beautiful," he says and then doubles down, "You always look beautiful."

You feel like you might melt into a little puddle right then and there. Just slip right through the cracks of the pavement with the ants and weeds. "You're only saying that because I'm wearing your clothes."

James feigns offence, dropping his jaw and gasping, "Not true!" He's laughing now, "Not true. You look beautiful in everything."

He gets you into his arms and cages you against his chest, squeezing you tight and pushing his mouth into the side of your head, "And nothing."

"James!" you gasp but can't go anywhere. You don't really want to but it's fun to be this way with James. "You're dirty."

"I know," he says chuckling into your hair. "It's your fault though, babe. You bring it out of me."

You look turn to look at him and you smile. "Thank you."

"It's nothing," he says, smacking a kiss to your cheek. "Anything for you."

You kiss him back until he's grinning wildly like he can't help it. You how he's feeling because neither can you.

"Wanna go inside?" he asks when you pull back.

"We should."

"You feeling hungry?" he asks, snaking a hand down your arm to link your fingers.

"I could really go for some chips," you say honestly.

James grins, "Good," he says, "That's good. C'mon, I'll get you anything you like."

Of course, he will. You love him.

[heart-stomper]

Unspoken Trust, Unspoken Fears

Gathering my thoughts on Sasha and Marcy’s dynamic before S3 proves me wrong shows us what’s going on with these two.

It’s time to look at The Dinner and Battle of the Bands, and then use it as a guide to read the room in True Colors.

No worries! You just gotta speak their language. - Sasha, Reunion

Or in this case, know when to stay quiet. 

Sasha gets really really frustrated this episode. Like, so bad, that if that Volcakeno didn’t erupt, she might have been the one to end the friendship. Even Marcy and Grime couldn’t calm her down. But that’s the thing, before this point, they were the only ones to get through to Sasha without provoking her.

Grime keeps Sasha in line; she rolls her eyes and is clearly annoyed every time she has to hold herself back, but her willingness to keep it cool shows she ultimately agrees with Grime’s plan and sees it as the best path to success.  When Marcy chimes in, it’s with a helpful answer to Sasha’s question. She reminds Sasha of why they stopped Doing Thing by explaining how their plan failed. She avoids judging Sasha for it, and frames it as the repercussions of their actions, as a group. Marcy is on Sasha’s side, so Sasha doesn’t put up any defenses. When Sasha decides to avoid arguing with Anne however, it isn’t for Anne. It’s for the plan, for her and Grime.

Marcy has enough faith in Sasha to believe she’d never want to purposefully hurt Anne, but is careful about broaching the subject. Sasha feels attacked very easily, and will quickly trivialize or downplay things if she feels the other person is being unreasonable or doesn’t ‘get’ her.

And that is the only time Marcy speaks up besides The Big Argument. She only jumps into actual conflicts if things get too heated. Otherwise, she just lets Sasha do her thing, and lets Anne argue with Sasha... sort of.

This isn’t collaboration. It’s a hostile takeover. Why do things always have to be your way?

Now, for the bait and switch. Let’s talk about Marcy’s behavior in Day at the Aquarium and New Wartwood, and Sasha’s in Toadcatcher and Barrel’s Warhammer… while tying it all back to Battle of Bands!

You didn’t tell me you were writing a song! Let’s do it! I mean, if that’s okay with you, Sasha.

In A Day at the Aquarium, Marcy’s first instinct to Anne saying she’s going back with the Plantars is to make a plan. To show that it isn’t actually what will benefit Anne’s Goals. She doesn’t even consider opening up as an option, and avoids saying anything that could cause conflict. New Wartwood, Marcy tries to chat with the citizens of Wartwood and get to know them. But when that doesn’t work, she decides that impressing them with her knowledge and usefulness is bound to make them like her. It has to.

It does seem simpler.

Trying to win people over by claiming a plan is of mutual interest and necessary, carefully choosing which words to use, viewing relationships as a puzzle to be solved… this isn’t the sort of thing Marcy needs to do to get along with someone like Anne. It’s how Marcy copes with Sasha. Sasha lashes out and belittles bad ideas. Sasha has to be convinced the plan benefits her, suits her. Vulnerability and love aren’t enough to make her care, so Marcy does what she can to prove she’s worth being around. She might even sometimes wonder if Sasha actually likes her, or just likes what she can do for her. She rather not find out.

Whenever she’s afraid of people not liking her, or is worried that she’ll lose them, she dives right into those bad habits. She can give her opinions, but they aren’t supposed to get in the way of what Sasha wants. She’s supposed to say “That’s amazing! What do you think Sash’?” not “Let’s do it!”

Listen. There’s another reason why I’ve been training so hard. To protect the one person I know I can count on right now. You. You’re right, I already lost one friend. I’m not about to lose another. - Sasha, Toadcatcher

In Toadcatcher, there’s that scene, where Sasha looks at the BFF picture and the wind cuts off Anne for a second so it’s just her and Marcy. This is where Sasha is at. Anne might have rebelled, but when Sasha reunites with Marcy? Oh, she’ll show Anne, one way or another. They’ll get her back (like, joining the team or revenge wise, depending on Sasha’s mood.)

Listen here you buffoon! What’s it gonna take to prove that you should follow us? - Barrel’s Warhammer

Aaaand Sasha freaks out royally when she learns the two are alone together and doing just fine. On some level, she fears Anne and Marcy “getting along without her” because it means they might decide they don’t actually need her to make plans; that she isn’t necessary to have fun. In the The Sleepover to End All Sleepovers, we see that isn’t as big a catastrophe as Sasha seems to think it’d be. As time goes on, the girls do gain a healthier relationship to their feelings about Sasha, but that doesn’t mean they’d want her gone even if they don’t need her there. But Sasha doesn’t know that, she doesn’t even consider it till reuniting in The Third Temple. All she knows for now, is that she can be a bit... much... so if she isn’t in control, if her way isn’t “the best”, why would Marcy put up with her either? 

Listen. If things get too wild out here, just give me a signal and I’ll call the whole thing off. 

 For sure, teach it to us Anne. 

Every Sasha plan starts with an empty reassurance. So much of Sasha’s dialogue follows a pattern where she says stuff like “we’ll call it off” (she did not call it off) and “for sure, I don’t mind” (she did mind) that it could be it’s own game. Sasha talks the talk, until it gets in the way of what she wants.

Sorry guys, but we’re way to close to bail. I am not going back empty-handed.

It’s good. I just have a few tiny notes that I think could make it even better. ... Boom! Fiixed it! 

If they just follow her lead and let her fix it, everything will work out. They should believe in her and trust her. After all...

That’s not true! Besides, we did it. ... You’re not actually gonna throw this all away are you?

I just wanted all of us to succeed. I was just being a good friend. Why couldn’t they see that?

It all worked out, right? Percy and Braddock made it out okay even if she didn’t follow through on her promise. They won, she’s reliable. But of course, Sasha lost something more important than their belief in her abilities, she lost their trust. In Battle of the Bands however, Sasha recognizes that Anne and Marcy don’t want to follow her ambitions and will be pushed away by them just like Percy and Braddock were. So she takes it upon herself to end things, accepting that she’s lost.

Sorry it took so long.

Except this time, she manages to realize that maybe “what she wants” is to be there for her friends. Sasha’s finally had the space to relax and really think about what she wants, at least a little. This isn’t a real battle after all. Doing things her way all the time isn’t as important as she thought. Maybe she should trust in her friends more. A change of pace isn’t “wrong”, just different. It’s fun.

Sorry we lost, Sash’.

Just like Percy and Braddock, Marcy knows Sasha is capable. She understands that Sasha just wants the team to succeed. That’s why she apologizes when Grime beats them in the competition. She wants Sasha to know she appreciates what she did, but keeps it a bit indirect. She gets Sasha probably didn’t want to push them away. Marcy tried to catch herself and back Sasha up, but when Sasha had her argument with Anne, she stayed quiet. She couldn’t bring herself to go against Anne. 

That was ultimately for the best, as Sasha learned a valuable lesson. Except... She’s in too deep with the rebellion to back out now. This is the episode she’d spill the truth and give up on the whole thing, except... Grime. A part of her knows leaving would make Grime her enemy. She can’t risk that. So, she keeps going with the plan. She decides she’ll somehow win it all back. Because the thing she’s actually most afraid of, is losing another friend. 

Sorry things got a little crazy back there. You guys good? ... Sheesh, don’t be a sore loser. Look, I’m gonna stay here and get this toad regime off the ground, but I can totally send you two home if you want. Or, you can stick around and give me a hand! So what’d’ya say?

Sasha’s final offer; the last chance she’s giving the girls to stop acting weird and go back to being her obedient friends who do what she wants. Sasha lost at Toad Tower, but now she’s won. So Anne should go back to normal, she’s supposed to, like some unspoken “rule”.

And Marcy is supposed fall back in line too. The offer and apology are just as much a plea directed at her. Sasha’s trying to be generous, in her own awkward way. She has bit her tongue so far. She’s thrown a temper tantrum or two, but she hasn’t been this forward in asking Marcy for help till now. She wants Marcy to say that everything’s okay. Make it clear she doesn’t think she’s the bad guy, and that she forgives her and wants to be there for her. That they’re on the same page again. She wants Marcy to help make Anne look overly dramatic and silly for making such a big deal of all this. Sure, if Anne figures that out by herself, that’d be great, but if Marcy could just speak up.

But she doesn’t. Of course she doesn’t.

Marcy’s too busy worrying about Anne’s reaction. Knowing that she’ll be upset about this. She doesn’t dare side with Sasha, and is disappointed and betrayed that she actually did something like this. Marcy already has her own secret plans, so when she finally tries to calm things down, all she can give is a non-descript “we can still fix this”. And then, she’s once again shocked when she sees Sasha threaten Anne and the Plantars. Seeing Sasha act so willing to actually hurt people rather than just push them around... it finally hits her just how serious “tried to kill them” was. And of course, losing Anne or being sent home with her would completely mess up her own plans.

Sasha’s isn’t a vulnerable person. She’ll go on about loving her friends if it makes her look good, but she actively avoids doing anything that could be seen as “weak”. She wouldn’t dare ask Marcy to drop Anne and choose her. If Marcy isn’t speaking up, she can take the hint. She still isn’t on her side, and so she gets sent to the dungeon along with the rest of them.

Marcy accepts that Sasha has become an obstacle, but a part of her still hopes the three of them can work through all this. If they do things her way, nobody has to get hurt. She'll figure out a way hold everything together, fix everything, like always.

And then Andrias betrays her.

Yeah, what plan?

Sasha stops talking once she realizes what’s going on. Quietly fuming as Marcy explains herself. The music box, the suggestion to take it back to Andrias... that wasn’t Marcy being the sweet, supportive friend who Sasha thought she could always rely on, who believed in her... that was Marcy using her. It was never going to become their plan; Marcy never trusted her and was actively working against her. Sasha lost Anne, and she never had a chance at getting Marcy back, either. 

Sasha smacks Marcy away when she desperately tries to justify herself. She doesn’t want to hear it anymore. She’s furious that Marcy thinks they could be friends after something like this, after she’s manipulated them and claimed it was for their sakes. This whole time, her goal had been avoiding the move with her parents. And coming here has only torn them apart even worse.

Marcy reaches out to both girls. And when Sasha rejects her, she clings to Anne, hoping at least she’ll find it in her to forgive her. That she’ll understand she cares about them even if she messed up. Marcy knows they’d probably never pick her over their families or ambitions, so she told herself this place offered those things too. Made them all better people. But as she says her excuses out loud, she can’t find a single one that feels right. She was just afraid of losing them, and now, she’s managed to hurt them on top of that. 

But the thing is. After all that. Despite how betrayed and hurt and angry Sasha was, she looks like this:

Sasha realizes this must be exactly how Anne felt about her betrayal. It isn’t just an abstract “hurt” or “bad thing” anymore. She can also sympathize with how Marcy feels and why she did it, at least a little. She can’t imagine being able to forgive this, and yet... when she looks to Anne with that apologetic look, she isn’t just hoping Anne will forgive her. She’s also asking for permission to forgive Marcy. Pleading that they all still have a chance to move past this together.

[t0wnspersonb]

Tease (Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader)

Rated: slightly explicit 

Word Count: 2,805

Summary: It’s the summer training camp, and naturally as Nekoma’s manager you attend as well. The ongoing tension between you and a certain captain gets too much to handle, and you find yourself in a compromising position late at night.

Warnings: Bokuto being Bokuto, fluff, confessions, make out sessions, grinding, my shit writing

I literally love all of the Haikyuu boys so much it’s ridiculous. I’m a fucking simp ya’ll. I hope you enjoy this spicy mess. I wanted to try something new compared to my usual fluff I write for this particular anime:)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You stood next to Coach Nekomata as he yelled at Kenma for avoiding the ball once again. You giggled softly to yourself at the second year's expression before writing down quick notes of the game.

 You guys were just beginning the summer training camp, and it was off to a good start; maybe not so much for Karasuno though.

 You hummed softly to yourself as you went to gather up the water bottles and towels for the team, seeing as how the practice match against Fukurodani was almost over. You were crouched down as you were rearranging the bottles when you heard shouting.

 “Y/n-chan watch out!” you heard Yamamoto call out, a stray volleyball was headed in your direction, but you had easily received it, sending the ball back into the court. The familiar sting on your inner forearms was not anything new.

 You had spent countless hours with the team, watching them practice their receives and somehow being roped into it despite being the manager.

 And strangely enough, you were actually quite good at it. 

 “Lev!” Yaku shouted angrily, winding up to kick the first year. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop flailing around!? Y/n-chan almost got hit with that ball! Apologize now!”

 “I’m sorry Y/n-senpai!” Lev apologized, bowing in your direction. 

 You waved him off. Despite how good you were at receiving the ball, there were definitely times where you had taken one to the face. “Don’t worry about it Lev. Although, your receives have been terrible during this game, it makes me wonder if you would have been able to receive that ball if you were in my position. Just something to think about.” You said coyly.

 “Y/n is better at receiving than you Lev.” Kenma said. “And she doesn’t even play.”

 “If we lose this game Lev, you’re going to practice receiving with Yaku until your arms fall off.” Kuroo chimed in as well, his eyes flickering over to you briefly, glancing across your body to make sure that you were actually okay.

 The tall first year was incredibly dejected, causing you to laugh slightly at your underclassmen. Practicing with Yaku was hard work, you knew that all too well.

 “Oh that was good form Y/n-chan!” Bokuto praised from the other side of the net. “You looked good doing it!” he gave you a thumbs up.

 You could see Kuroo scowl out of the corner of your eye and smirked slightly to yourself. “Thanks Bokuto. But not as good as you when you’re doing your crazy straight.” 

 The entire Nekoma team and Fukurodani team rolled their eyes at this. Here we go… they thought.

 Kuroo’s scowl deepened, a glare beginning to form on his face as he stared at the owl-haired third year laughing loudly.

 “I know right? I’m the best!” he cheered loudly at your praise. “Hey, hey, hey! Kuroo let me have Y/n-chan for the day!”

 “For the last time, you have your own managers you stupid owl, leave mine alone.” Kuroo snapped angrily. 

 You bit back a smile as you turned your back to them, finishing up the task you were working on.

 The relationship you had with the bedhead captain was difficult to explain. It had been that way since you all joined the volleyball team in your guys’ first year. The flirting and teasing between you two was nauseating in the eyes of your teammates. They had figured that you guys would’ve started dating already but it never happened. 

 But it was clear as day that you guys had feelings for each other.

 Bokuto had taken a strong liking to you as well when you guys had first met. He thought you were incredibly cute, and a wonderful friend. Which is why he never hesitated to flirt with you, plus it made Kuroo mad and that was even better. 

 You had picked up on that immediately and would shamelessly flirt back with Bokuto because you loved the way Kuroo reacted to it.

 Everyone on both teams began to get used to these interactions whenever they all got together, despite how annoying it was to see their captains bicker back and forth.

 Nekoma had lost the practice match and after doing their penalty you began handing out the towels and drinks.

 Kuroo glanced down at you as you held his water bottle to him expectantly, his long fingers brushing carefully against yours during the exchange. “Thanks pipsqueak.” 

 You rolled your eyes at his nickname and reached to poke him hard in the side of his ribs, he dodged your attack easily and smirked widely as you huffed in anger. His hand coming up to ruffle your hair.

 “Stop that.” you pouted, pushing his hand away, fixing your mused hair. 

 Kuroo ignored the slight race of his heart as he took in your pouty face. She’s so cute, he thought.

 After a couple more practice matches the day was coming to an end. You helped the rest of the managers clean up the gym and shuffled off to help prepare dinner for everyone.

 During that time you couldn’t help but think of Kuroo. You wondered if your guys’ strange relationship would finally progress into an actual one. Neither of you had confessed to actually having feelings for one another, it was something that you guys had just assumed.

 In the eyes of the team, and even people outside of the team, they had assumed you guys were a couple. You spent a lot of time together outside of practice and school. Being around each other came naturally, and despite the bickering and teasing, you guys enjoyed each other’s company immensely.

 So then why weren’t you guys together yet?

 “Aw man.” you sighed quietly to yourself, putting your hands behind your head as you continued walking towards the baths. “This sucks.”

 “What sucks Y/n-senpai?” Lev asked. You glanced to your right and saw him standing at the entrance of gym 3 holding a ball.

 “Your receives.” you said bluntly not batting an eye.

 “Eh!? You saw that!?” he panicked, glancing around frantically. 

 It was then that the other people in the gym took notice of your form. 

 “Y/n-chan! Come keep score!” Bokuto said excitedly, coming up from behind the tall first year, Kuroo following closely behind.

 “Maybe some other time Bokuto. Oh. If you guys don’t hurry you’re going to miss dinner.” you said in amusement. 

 “Next time you’ll come and keep score then!” Bokuto exclaimed before they all started making their way out of the gym.

 You shook your head in amusement as Lev and Hinata began talking animatedly about something. 

 “Oi pipsqueak. You coming with or what?” Kuroo called, stopping when he noticed that you weren’t following them.

 You smiled slightly, shaking your head. “I already ate. I’m going to the baths and then going to bed. Do you already miss me that much?” you teased.

 He rolled his eyes at your antics and fought the blush that wanted to make its way onto his face at just the thought of you taking a bath.

 “Maybe I do.” he drawled out and started walking closer to you, his cat-like eyes staring down at you intensely, causing a shiver to run down your spine. “You want me to help you wash your back?” he whispered leaning down towards your ear. You could his lips brushing softly against the shell of your ear.

 You could feel your face burn at his words, the palm of your hands getting sweaty at how close he was. 

 Ignoring the burning embarrassment of his words, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down further so that his face was close to yours. “Maybe I do.” you whispered back and very carefully nipped at his earlobe. 

 Kuroo made a strange choking sound as you released him. He took a step back and covered the lower part of his face with his hand, looking away from you. Seeing his shocked expression and blushing cheeks was well worth that embarrassing moment for you.

 “Or maybe not?” you said innocently, hands resting behind your back, your head tilted to the side. “I guess some other time then.” you teased and walked away, finally allowing yourself to blush freely, your heart was racing as you entered the baths.

 Kuroo Tetsuro was going to be the death of you.

 *************

 “Sit next to me Y/n-chan!” Bokuto said, grabbing your arm and tugging him towards the table that Akaashi was currently sitting at. 

 It had been three days since that encounter with Kuroo, and quite honestly, everyone could feel the weird tension between the two of you.

 It was almost… awkward being around the both of you if you guys were together. 

 Kuroo’s gaze trained on the table that you sat at, watching as you laughed freely at Bokuto’s antics.

 “What’s going on with you and Y/n?” Kenma asked quietly, his eyes remaining on his phone.

 “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Kuroo sniffed, taking another bite of his dinner. “We’re fine.”

 “Doesn’t seem like it.” Kenma pressed. “It feels weird being around you two.”

 Kuroo looked over at his childhood friend, frowning. “What?”

 “I’m not exactly sure what it is, but the energy around you two is uncomfortable.” he said looking at Kuroo briefly before looking back at his phone.

 “Just eat your dinner.” Kuroo scolded. His gaze lowered to his food. He knew what it was, the energy between you two. It was an underlying thing, but after the incident a couple days ago, well, it got worse. 

 The sexual tension could be cut with a knife when you guys were around each other now. The sexaul frustration that Kuroo was experiencing was released tenfold after your little stunt.

 It also didn’t help that you were still flirting with Bokuto right in front of him. It annoyed him immensely. 

 You were supposed to be his girl. Kuroo thought as he laid awake on his bed. He couldn’t sleep, his thoughts being entirely consumed by you. 

 He sighed deeply to himself as he got up. A midnight walk would be sure to make him tired. 

 What he wasn’t expecting was to find you walking around the school too. You were deep in thought and almost didn’t realize that you were about to pass him until he grabbed at your arm.

 “Can we talk?” he asked seriously, staring down at you.

 You looked up in surprise. “Kuroo, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there… Yeah of course we can.” he released your arm and you guys walked until you found yourselves by the side of gymnasium 3.

 “What’s up?” you asked quietly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ears. 

 The expression Kuroo’s face was unreadable, it made you shift from foot to foot uneasily as he stared down at you. 

 The atmosphere around you guys was incredibly heavy, making you more nervous. 

 “I know I have a cute face and all, but the staring is really starting to creep me out, Kuroo.” you laughed nervously.

 He took a step closer to you, causing you to take a couple steps back, your back touched the side of the gym. He rested his hands on top of your shoulders, preventing you from escaping.

 And then he was kissing you.

 Your eyes widened as you felt your heart stop in your chest.

 Kuroo was kissing you.

 His lips were firm and hot as they moved urgently against yours. 

 This was… this was better than you had imagined. Your eyes fluttered shut, your hands sliding up to rest around his neck. You were on the tips of your toes so that the tall third year didn’t have to stoop down so much.

 He grunted softly against your lips as you started to kiss him back. All the flirting, teasing, unspoken feelings, came out in this moment. This kiss was well worth the three years that it took to get it.

 The hands that were resting on your shoulders slide up to cup the sides of your face, carefully angling you so that he could fit his mouth against yours better.

 Kuroo’s tongue gently poked at your lips, asking to be let in. Carefully parting your mouth, your tongues began clashing, hot and wet against each other.

 The passionate kiss that was meant to be used as a confession began to turn into something deliciously sweet and steamy.

 This was too fucking good to stop.

 Kuroo pressed himself closer to you, one leg moving to rest between yours, keeping them parted, his thigh carefully brushing against you causing you to gasp loudly at the sudden touch.

 He smirked against your mouth at the noise you made, moving one of his hands down to your waist, sliding his fingers beneath your shirt.

 His hand was warm and rough against your skin, carefully caressing your waist as he touched you, moving up to the tops of your ribs before gently cupping your breast through your bra.

 Despite the way that Kuroo was kissing you, his touch was incredibly gentle, hesitant almost. But when you moaned loudly, that was all the reassurance he needed to know that what he was doing was okay.

This was what he was missing. What he was waiting for. And he never wanted it to end. The way you felt against him, the way you tasted. He couldn’t get enough of it.

 Carefully squeezing and kneading your breast, he pressed himself closer to your body. Carefully he grinded himself against you, moaning at the way your body pressed against his growing length.

 You pulled away from his lips gasping for air, he trailed his lips softly against your jaw and down your neck, leaving hot open mouthed kisses against your skin. Kuroo began sucking and biting a bruise into the soft skin, causing you to moan out once more. You were in a daze, your head foggy from the intense pleasure that he was giving you. The Tokyo night air felt incredible against your flushed skin. 

 “Kuroo,” you breathed out, clinging to his body as he continued to touch you. “Kuroo… we should head back now… the others will start to worry…” you lost your train of thought as his lips pressed against the shell of your ear, breathing hotly against your skin.

 “You want me to stop?” he murmured, grinding harshly against you now.

 You whimpered softly. “N-N-No… but… we should go back already…”

 He pulled away from you reluctantly, his pupils were blown and wide with lust. His usual bedhead was significantly more messy, and his lips were swollen and glossed with spit. 

 He was fucking beautiful.

 The same could be said about you. Kuroo took in your heaving chest, the way your shirt no longer sat right on top of your body. Your eyes bright and lips swollen, and the dark mark he left on your neck standing proudly out for all to see. 

 Fuck you were beautiful.

 “Can we… can we do this again?” you asked shyly, looking up at him through thick lashes.

 Kuroo couldn’t help the wide smirk that began to take place on his lips. “If it wasn’t obvious, I like you, Y/n. Go out with me.” he said simply.

 A wide smile began to spread across your face, a hot blush coating your cheeks at his confession. 

 “Took you long enough.” you said cheekily. 

 Kuroo rolled his eyes and ruffled your hair. “Whatever pipsqueak. Let’s go.” 

 This training camp definitely was your favorite one so far.

 When morning came around you were over the moon, incredibly giddy and cheeky the entire time that you were setting up the cafeteria and making the food. The other managers didn’t question it but were incredibly curious as to what put the Nekoma manager in such a good mood.

 As always, Bokuto pulled you to his table to eat with him and Akaashi. You were laughing at a story Bokuto was telling, when your hair swayed from your neck and the dark mark that Kuroo had left on you last night was revealed to Akaashi’s eyes. 

 A blush coated the setter’s cheeks and he cleared his throat quietly, averting his gaze. “Y/n-san, your neck…”

 Your eyes widened in horror and you immediately moved your hair back to cover up the mark, you could feel your face burning in embarrassment as Bokuto loudly began to ask what was wrong with you.

 And then - “That’s not fair Y/n-chan! Let me give you one too!” Bokuto pouted as he saw the bruise.

 Both you and Akaashi began scolding the third year.

 Unbeknownst to you, Kuroo was smirking widely at his table as he stared at the interaction you were having with the members of Fukurodani. 

 Kenma’s eyes shifted over to the Nekoma captain. “Gross Kuroo.”

 “Shut up and eat your food Kenma!” 

[winterscaptain]

figure it out.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader a joyful future fic

a/n: this has been in my wips for literal months as i’ve done my best to get it just right for yall. i hope you enjoy it, and tell me what you think! There’s an addendum to this one, and i’m already working on it, but we’ll see a few more things before that’s ready :)

words: 3.5k warnings: sex mention, sex implication, language

summary: “love is like a backache. it doesn’t show up on an x-ray, but you know it’s there.” - george burns. au!january 2012. 

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | ajf faq | requests closed!

You roll over in bed when your alarm goes off, but you don’t get very far. Aaron throws an arm over you and pulls you back to him with a grumble. 

You huff a laugh and wiggle up against him. It’s all a tease and you both know it - there isn’t any time to get up to anything fun before work, but it’s far too entertaining to rile him up.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish.” His voice escapes his lips between your shoulder blades and you can feel his smile. 

“Oh, trust me, babe. I can finish.” 

He hums, his smile breaking out into something real. “I noticed.” 

+++

When the two of you finally make it out of bed (surprisingly still on time), you grab one of Aaron’s scarves and a hat on your way out. It’s your turn to drop Jack at school today on your way into the office, and the task serves two purposes. 

The first? It’s nice to spend time with Jack, just the two of you, when it’s your turn and you’re not on a case. It’s the same for Aaron, who always leaves a little earlier so he and Jack can sit down somewhere and have breakfast together.

The second is pure logistics. You two can’t show up to work in the same car at the same time, so a convenient excuse to separate and stagger your arrivals is welcome. 

“Really?” 

Aaron’s question stops you at the threshold and you look over your shoulder “What?” 

“My hat? My scarf?” 

It’s almost too tempting to cave when he’s looking at you like that - his tie hanging around his neck, shirt untucked, arms crossed, and playful frown hiding a smile. 

“Yeah. It’s warm and it’s here and we’re late.” 

Jack squints up at you and says, “We’re not late.”

“You’re not late.”

The observations come within split seconds of each other and you laugh. 

“Fine. Not late, but warm. And you have more hats.” You scamper back into the house to plant a kiss on his lips, smoothing the hair at his temples. 

Jack’s laughter is the underscore to your next quip. “You’re very handsome and I’m sure you’re very smart so you can figure it out.” 

“Yeah, Dad,” Jack chirps. “Figure it out.”

He has nothing to say to your retreating forms as he catches a glimpse of your smile through the crack in the closing door.

+++

Emily and Spencer are away at a conference-book-signing thing, so it’s just the five of you and Penelope this morning. You’d normally figure that would be Rossi’s purview, but apparently - 

“My book-signing days have been put on hold indefinitely in favor of -”

“ - He’s back.” Garcia interrupts, tossing case files at all of you. The conversation is cut short and you suppress a smile. “The Marin headlands last night.” 

You can see Aaron’s lips pull as well. 

It’s the little things. 

Penelope gestures with the notes and crime scene photos appear on the screen. “David Atley and Nicole Puli, both 24, both grad students at Berkeley, shot multiple times in their vehicle-- wait for it--” She clicks again and a familiar sigil appears. 

“The Zodiac?” Morgan’s shock is almost sardonic in its delivery. 

Rossi snorts. “No way.”

“Come on,” Derek says, amused, while JJ chimes in as well. 

 “It's gotta be the 2.0 version.”

While neither of you speak, you share a glance with Aaron. You’re kidding. 

He only raises his eyebrows for a split second and shrugs. 

There’s some part of you a little paranoid that you’re the most obvious couple to exist in the history of the universe. Sure, the team has been teasing you about your friendship for years, the will-the-won’t-they of it all, but now that it’s real you’re almost terrified that they know everything. 

Thus, the overcompensation has been wretched. You and Aaron barely look at each other in the field if you can help it (which you usually can’t) and he tends to put you with Derek more often than not. 

In truth, the others have noticed, but are far too interested in the spectacle to say anything. Emily’s almost certain the two of you have slept together, and Dave may or may not have suggested the possibility of a secret marriage during your period of suspension. 

However far-fetched and ridiculous their theories, they know you two well enough to know that something happened. The tension is gone. 

Derek almost finds himself missing the tension. There hasn’t been much to tease you about lately in its absence. 

“Yeah, you would think so, except for the crazy similarities in the MO.” Penelope clicks through the photos as she talks. 

“I'm talking same victimology, same geography. And,” she adds. “Two souvenirs were left at the crime scene.” She clicks once more and stands back for the full effect. 

“He left a photo?” Rossi asks.

She hums in the affirmative. “Local police say that is Marcia Miller. She was found near Napa in 1971. Strongly suspected that she was a victim of the Zodiac, but police never confirmed it and they didn't publicize the case.” 

Morgan’s still squinting at the screen. “So the Zodiac took this photo at the killing and then saved it all these years?”

“The Zodiac's last confirmed victim was the cabdriver Paul Stine,” Dave notes devolving into a conversation about The Zodiac, his timeline, his signature. 

It’s nothing new - The Zodiac Killer’s case details are common knowledge in your line of work, nevermind the sheer number of copycats that try their hand at the highly-ritualistic murders before inevitably getting arrested. 

There’s a reason this guy hasn’t been caught in forty years. 

After a few minutes of bouncing between you all, Hotch pushes back from the table and stands. “Have Reid and Prentiss meet us in San Francisco. Wheels up in 30.”

He heads straight to his office to collect his things and you swing in by the tips of your fingers for just a second. “You wanna call Jess or do you want me to?” 

In the middle of throwing files in his briefcase, he doesn’t look up when he answers. “Can you, please? I was supposed to meet with Strauss this afternoon and need to stop by her office before wheels up.” 

You smile at him, tapping the door frame twice. “You got it.” 

+++

It’s boots on the ground right away when you land in San Francisco. You drive to the crime scene with Aaron in the passenger seat beside you and JJ in the back. The radio’s on, and you sing under your breath, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel as you make your way up to the crime scene. 

Before you get to the local FBI agents, JJ catches you by the sleeve. “It’s nice to have music in the car again.” 

You just smile at her. Aaron looks a little puzzled. 

The three of you wipe the looks off your faces by the time you get to Agent Lynn. 

+++

“What did JJ mean?” Aaron asks you. 

The two of you are alone for the time being, posted up in the conference room with the old Zodiac case files. You look up. “Hmm?” 

“What did she mean when she mentioned the music earlier?” 

“Oh.” A little flush of embarrassment shoots down your gut. “Derek pointed out to me last summer that I didn’t play any music in the car.” 

...while you were gone is the thing you don’t say, but he knows that’s what you mean. 

“I didn’t really notice.” You shrug to cover your fib. “I guess I’ve reacquainted myself with the radio in the last couple of weeks.” 

Aaron hums, returning to his work. Something’s off, but you’re sure it’ll come up later. 

+++

“You don’t think it’s really him, do you?” You ask, unbuttoning your shirt and throwing your pajamas on. 

Surprisingly, this case seems to be one of those that allows for sleep at regular hours. For that, you’re grateful. It’s much harder to find time to wind down with Aaron at the end of the day when you’re all forced to sleep in shifts. 

Aaron shakes his head, “No, I think Reid’s right. We’re looking at a particularly sophisticated copycat.” 

“Isn’t that kind of worse?” Hopping up on your bed, you curl up and look at him over your nose - a clear invitation to join you. 

With a huff down his nose and a little smile, he flops down beside you and props his chin on his arms over your belly. “Could be. Luckily, we have Reid.” 

You almost think he’s going to say something else, but he gets that pensive look on his face again. 

“What?” 

With a sigh, he says, “I’m just thinking about what JJ said.” 

“Oh, Aaron -” 

He doesn’t let you finish. It’s probably a good thing. You didn’t know what you wanted to say anyway. 

“I knew how hard it was on me, but I’m realizing more and more how hard it was on you, too.” He shakes his head. “I feel ...I don’t know. I feel like I should have known better… or something.” 

Winding your fingers in his hair, you sit in silence for a moment. He doesn’t have anything more to say and eventually he crawls up your body and settles in under your arm, his head on your chest and legs wound between yours.

Sometimes, you’ve found, he likes to feel small.  

“You’re safe and you’re home. That’s what matters.” You kiss the top of his head. “And I love you.” 

He hums, arcing into your touch and wrapping an arm around your waist. “I love you.” 

+++

You spend much of the next day chasing Spencer around the city, keeping notes handy (for yourself, not for him - he doesn't need them) and reporting back on his discoveries to the team like some kind of overwrought and hyper-trained secretary. 

Stepping off to the side, you answer a call from Aaron. 

“Hit your limit yet?” 

You look over at Spencer, who’s flipping through a newspaper like a man on a mission. “It’s actually kind of entertaining.” 

And that’s actually true. Watching Spencer push the limits of his intelligence is always a treat - it happens so rarely you almost forget how much you enjoy it every time. 

He huffs into the phone. “Hang in there. We’ll all meet back at the precinct once Reid’s done -”

“Doing magic?” 

“Exactly. Keep me posted.” There’s a pause. It’s an odd little habit you two developed in the field to leave space for the words you can’t say in front of the others. 

I love you.

“Me too.” 

+++

You’re almost asleep when a sliver of yellow light shoots across your room, promptly disappearing as the door to the hallway closes. 

He pads across the room and slips under the covers. “Hi.” 

A little smile crosses your face as you roll over to face him. “Hi.”

Before you can say anything else, his hands are on you and he’s half on top of you as he captures your lips. 

Needless to say, the lack of sleep is worth it. 

+++

Emily, long after she and Aaron are the only ones left in the precinct conference room, squints as she notices something right under his collar. 

He’s already loosened his tie and unbuttoned the top button of his dress shirt, no longer standing on ceremony now that all the local police have retired and the rest of the team gone up to their hotel rooms. There’s not much to do, but the compulsion to get ahead for tomorrow is one neither one of them can shake. 

What Aaron failed to remember when executing his wardrobe adjustment was the rather...spirited romp in your room the night prior. The little purple swatches painted on his skin just under the line of his collar stood out stark against the crisp lines of his dress shirt. 

Fortunately for you, there was no way in hell the rest of the team would find anything he left on you last night. 

Emily reaches into her purse and pulls out a tube of concealer and a powder compact. Though he’s more olive-toned than she is, it’ll be good enough in a pinch. “Hey, Hotch.” 

He looks at her over his nose, his eyes tired. 

“You might want this for tomorrow morning.” She pushes the crisis control kit across the table to him, but he only frowns and deepens his squint. 

By way of explanation, she reaches across the table and presses the tip of her finger into one of the visible bruises in the hollow of his throat. He flinches, freezes, and then immediately drops his head into his hands. 

It’s easy to say Emily is amused in the extreme. “Those look...really fresh.” 

He shakes his head, insisting as he picks up a file at random, “They’re from before we left.” 

It’s only because it’s Emily that he’s even humoring this conversation. 

“No they’re not.” She sticks her tongue firmly in her cheek. “These ones are though.” She points at yellowing marks on his collarbone and he smacks her hands away. 

“And I know what fresh hickies look like, Hotch. Those are fresh fresh. Like, last night fresh. And we’ve been here for four days.” She frowns, tracking back through the day. “When on earth would you have time to -” 

A series of images flash through her head, random wayward connections flashing together in an alarmingly clear picture.

You, avoiding her at the office back in September with quickly-covered marks painted across your neck.

You, flirting with Sean and having way too much fun doing it, looking over his shoulder at ...someone else.

Hotch, in a perpetually good mood (for him, anyway, and despite looking ill-slept) for the last five months. 

The way the mistletoe kiss at Dave’s Christmas party looked way too easy, too familiar. 

And now, the obvious indicators that Hotch is not only getting it, he’s getting it good. 

If he got those last night…

Wait. 

Their hotel rooms are right next to …

Oh my God. 

Hotch watches the realization flash across Emily’s face, and he knows you’re both busted. Instead of losing her shit like he expected, Emily just leans back in her chair - smug. 

“So. Are you still Not the Boyfriend, or has there been an update?”

He sighs. 

The corner of her mouth tips up. “How long?”

“For which part? The not-boyfriend part, the boyfriend part, or this part?” He gestures vaguely to the space behind his tie, and Emily snorts. 

“Just spill it.” 

Holding up a finger, he pulls his phone out of his pocket, dialing the first number on his speed dial. 

You’re hardly asleep, sitting up in bed waiting for him with a case file in your lap, when you get the call. You’re not sure who’s listening, so a “Hey, Hotch. What’s up?” will have to do. 

“Emily knows.” 

You straighten. “How?”

“Doesn’t matter. She knows.” 

There’s a scramble, and suddenly Emily’s on the other end of the phone. “He’s got very questionable and very fresh bruises just under his collar. Care to explain?”

There’s another shuffle. 

“Ignore her,” Aaron says. With a hand pressed to your forehead, you understand the question implicit in his phone call. 

“Just tell her. It’s basically her fault, anyways. If she hadn’t ditched it then we’d have our heads up our asses for another five years.”

“Alright,” then, after a second of realizing you don’t sound sleepy at all, “Go to bed.”

“I’m in bed.” 

He rolls his eyes. Emily can only look on with amusement, gleeful in the extreme. “You know that’s not what I mean. Go to sleep.”

“Alright, alright. Fine.” You reluctantly close the casefile and put him on speaker so he can hear the light click off. “I’m going to sleep.” Then, “I love you. Come up soon.”

“Okay.” He shoots a glance at Emily. Because he’ll never hear the end of it anyway, more ammo won’t hurt at this point. “I love you too. Now, really. Go to slee -”

You hang up on him. He double-takes at his phone for a moment before shoving it back in his pocket. 

He’s met with Emily’s surprisingly moved eyes. “You’re...okay.”

What she means is, You’re happy. 

He knows. 

He nods. “I’m okay.”

She puts her files down and leans forward, resting her elbows on the table and lacing her fingers. “Tell me.” 

So, he does. 

He tells her about the way you stuck to him like glue through the divorce, the way you wiggled your way into Haley’s heart, captured the love of his son, and earned the trust of his entire family. 

He tells her what Haley said in the hospital, the tenacious care you showed his unyielding and unwilling ass when he was healing, the way your grief soothed his in the wake of Haley’s loss. 

He tells her about the moments of euphoria in the years of want and doubt and fear. 

He tells Emily about the day she died, how there was nothing more painful than that necessary lie. He tells her how easy it was to lie to the others, how it ripped him in half to lie to you. 

He tells her about the day he left for Pakistan, about the fight the night before, the kiss he pressed to your cheek on the tarmac, the endless, wretched nights missing you in the desert. 

He tells her about the fight when he finally came home, skims over the following days, jumps and meanders around to Christmas, to moving in, to the bliss that now seems to follow him wherever he goes. 

Emily watches the smile that plays at his mouth when he talks about you, the softness in his eyes as recalls the look on your face and the words you said and the way you are with Jack. There’s a kind of peace in him that she’s never really seen before. 

Maybe, she imagines, it was there before she met him (the second time). Maybe this peace existed with Haley. Maybe this is the most she’s ever heard him speak at once. Maybe it makes her smile. 

Maybe this peace is what his love looks like. 

If that’s the case, she thinks, you are very lucky indeed. 

It could have been hours, it could have been minutes, but at some point he stops talking. 

“Hotch?” 

He looks over at her, the softness lingering in his eyes. 

“I’m really happy for you.” 

His lips twitch. “Thanks.” 

“And you know it’s my God-given right to tell everyone else once this case is over, right?”

+++

You actually are asleep by the time Aaron gets back to the hotel. He leans against the wall in the dark with his hands in his pockets, enjoying the peace before the inevitable shitshow. 

He crosses the room and crouches at your side, running the back of his fingers over your cheek. You stir, sleepy noises leaving your throat as your eyes crack open. 

“Aaron?”

“Yeah. Just me.” 

You smile a little and close your eyes again. “How’d she take it?”

“Remarkably well.” He kisses your forehead. “Get some sleep. I’ll see you in the morning.” 

“No,” you whine, drawn-out and slurred. “Don’t leave. Stay. I set an alarm.”

With a resigned sigh, he strips and slides into bed behind you, wrapping you in his arms and holding you close. 

+++

You and Aaron sit on proverbial pins and needles for the rest of the case, but Emily keeps her word. The only indication of her knowledge came the morning after her chat with Aaron, when she pulled you to her and hugged you so tight you could hardly breathe. 

She seizes her moment on the plane, about halfway home. 

“Derek, you owe me fifty bucks.” 

She hardly looks up from her book as she speaks. 

He takes off his headphones and wrinkles his brow. “What?”

She repeats herself, slower, as if she was speaking to a child. “You. Owe. Me. Fifty. Bucks.”

“...Why?” 

Emily finally looks up from her book to pointedly stare at you and Aaron, seated next to each other and sharing a bag of Goldfish you stole from Jack’s snack drawer. You’re both reading from the same file, absently reaching for crackers as you go along. 

Derek’s confusion continues to smother his face until it finally clicks in. 

He steals a page from Reid’s notebook and balls it up, tossing it across the plane and breaking your concentration. You look up, only a little startled, to find a face-splitting grin blinding you across the cabin.

Derek’s small ruckus has drawn the attention of the rest of the team - well, all except JJ, who’s fast asleep on the couch. 

There seems to be a collective sigh of relief as money exchanges hands. You’re not quite sure what the bet was, but Emily seems to have won handily. 

Aaron takes your hand under the table, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 

It doesn’t. 

Everyone simply returns to their tasks, little smiles on their faces. 

+++

tagging: @quillvine @agenthotchner @hurricanejjareau @rousethemouse @criminalsmarts @genevievedarcygrangerwriting @ssaic-jareau @davidrossi-ismydad @angelsbabey @hotchsflower @hotchslatte @risenfox @mrs-dr-reid @captain-christopher-pike @dwellingsofrosie @pan-pride-12 @sunshine-em @word-scribbless @jdougl-love @sageellsworth05 @dreila03 @forgottenword @aaronhotchnerr @ssa-morgan @tegggeeee @abschaffer2 @ellyhotchner @lotties-journey-abroad @mrs-joel-pimentel-23-25 @laneygthememequeen @mooneylupinblack @ssareidbby @violet-amxthyst @bwbatta @roses-and-grasses @lcvischmitt @capricorngf @missdowntonabbey @averyhotchner @mandylove1000 @cevanswhre @qvid-pro-qvo @jeor @spencers-hoodrat @infinity1321 @zizzlekwum @popped-weasels @evee87 @nuvoleincielo @this-broken-band-girl @reidtomestyles @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @winqhster @arthurmorrgans @the-falling-in-the-danger @softbibxtch @iconicc @mangoberry43 @andreasworlsboring101 @kerrswriting @mac99martin @itsalwaysb33nyou @baumarvel @kerrswriting @messyhairday-me @ssworldofsw @deagibs @crazyshannonigans @moonshinerbynight @jhiddles03 @teamhappyme @mendesmelodies @starsandasteroids @unicorn-bitch @ambicaos

[shivada-jade]

Timing (5)

main pairings: albedo x reader sucrose x reader

➡ mentions: diluc, venti, aether, paimon warning(s): usage of alcohol bc we're at angel's share

you can find timing's masterlist here!

notes: this has been long overdue! here you go bWAAH

Diluc watches a bard glide into his tavern like he owns the place. The Ragnvindr raises a brow, placing a wine glass back into a cupboard.

"Venti," he says, picking up another glass, polishing it. "Are you here to pay back your tabs?"

"Ah, Master Diluc!" The boy in green laughs nervously, "Oh, what a pleasant surprise, but of course I wouldn't dream to have your bills jeopardized."

The door of the tavern chimes, signaling another customer is there. Aether places his hands on his knees, heaving for breath and Paimon floats in, hitting Aether's head lightly, "I GOT YOU NOW."

Venti whistles and casually sides himself next to the traveler and wraps an arm around him, "Aether here, will be delighted to pay for my tab."

Paimon gasps and takes the hat off Venti's head. "No! We didn't come here to do that!" She flips to Aether, helping him up, "Tell him why we're here, Aether!"

The tavern owner wipes his hand on a cloth and leans forward on the counter, curious. The glass windows and colourful bottles filter the sunlight from behind the man. Colours reflect to Diluc, making him look like some sort of rainbow Angel.

Aether inhales, now standing up normally. "Lately, I've been getting a lot of commissions to gather Wolfhook for remedies, and whenever I ask what it's for they always say how it's like they..." He trails off, not knowing the best way to put it.

Dliuc clears his throat, watching Venti attempt to steal another bottle of wine. He quickly grabs the bottle from Venti's hand, who sulks sitting at the very right side of the counter.

"Like they think they have thing obnoxious sound in their head," Diluc finishes for Aether. "And when they try to remember what, it hurts them more."

Aether's head perks up, "Master Diluc, do you have these too?"

Diluc looks up, thinking. "...Yes, but it has mostly been the drunkard Knights that have been telling me these stories whilst I work here."

He breathes in sharply, "Those no use for good Knights come here more often since two years ago, which coincidentally is the disappearance of someone from the Investigation Team. I always assumed it was because that person had a huge impact on them, but when I questioned them, they don't even know the name of the missing person."

Paimon makes a face, "You sure have been doing a lot of research."

"If even the Knights are having troubles with only themselves, how would Mondstadt be protected?"

"Right! So," Venti quips. "Getting to the point. I also have been trouble remembering these... things, but one thing's for certain! The things I can't remember always leads me to this lovely tavern. Truly, the answer is under these curtains."

Paimon furrows her brows, scanning around the tavern for curtains. "There are no curtains here."

"Eheh~ It's a metaphor for, what's hiding in store!"

Diluc adjusts his gloves. "I have to admit, I do understand what you mean with the remembering and forgetting," he comments. "But what is it that you propose I do? What does this tavern have to do with anything?"

"Has there been any other... strange things going on?" Paimon floats, tilted forward. "Aether would als-"

The fae turns to Aether, only now realizing he disappeared from her side. "Aether?" She hovers over the boy's shoulder when finding him.

He stands in front of the door, observing the scratches- some new and some old. Venti hops off the stool he sits on and saunters to his friends, signaling Diluc to follow.

Aether's fingers trace the marks on the door and turns to the owner of the tavern. "Master Diluc, can I ask how long had Angel's Share been standing? When was it first built?"

Diluc ponders, scratching his chin a bit, then answering, "A few hundred years, give or take. It's been preserved well."

Aether's hand lifts from the door. "Then how is this old marking foreshadowing us meeting here?" His golden eyes scan over the names written on the door. Deep engravings, yet faded out edges let him figure it's been hundreds of years.

He looks over the words, or names on the door. "Diluc, Aether, Paimon, Venti, Albedo, Sucrose. By the time the first four meet, the other two will arrive because they're smart like that. Please, help me. There are barely any resources here. Things are yet to be mined or built."

Venti collapses again, clutching his head. He winces, looking up with one eye and waving his worried peers. "It's alright I just-" he takes a moment to pause. He grins, "I think I know who the mystery person in my memory is."

"It's just..." He tries to stand, but his knees fail him. "Remembering them changes many things."

Diluc looks to Aether, wondering if he had answers, but the blonde only shook his head, supporting Venti with his shoulder and placing him on a chair.

Paimon is still distracted by the carvings on the door. She floats closer. Her eyes are observing the door very closely. "It says Albedo and Sucrose a-"

The door flings Paimon to the cupboard Diluc puts the mugs and glass in. "gAH?!"

Albedo and Sucrose stand in front of the opened door. They both seem to be searching something and their eyes land on Diluc. Sucrose sighs in relief and pushes her glasses up to the bridge of her nose.

"Master Diluc," She says meekly, taking a thick book out of the bag she carries.

"Sucrose and I require your assistance in one of our projects." Albedo finishes for the girl before nodding to the others beside the Ragnvindr, acknowledging their presence. "I hope you can aid us."

...

Your hands are clasped in front of yourself, trying to contain your emotions. After meeting a Ragnvindr, you thought you were getting somewhere. As someone who knows the arts of science, you thought all you needed was to see a familiar presence in Mondstadt, so you searched the nobles, knowing how long they've spent in Mond.

You did not in fact gather inspiration, nor answers to getting back home, but you did befriend a wealthy aristocrat who, despite not believing your time-travel story, decided to help fund your research to going back to your time after helping him out with the latest project called "Angel's Share."

You sighed, taking a bite out of an apple while watching a few of Angel's Share's first customers. Looking around, Mondstadt still had that sort of look from the future, but everything is new and shiny. Everything is newly built.

You've been here for two years, and from those two years you watched Mondstadt quickly finish the last few touches to the city you know. It was a strange experience to say the least.

When you had first known you time traveled, you hadn't realized it until you waltzed into Favonius Headquarters and a guard seized you. You kicked and punched the guard, claiming you were one of the members of the Investigation Team but they looked at you like you were crazy. You stopped hitting them, and thought back to how the guard does not look like anyone you knew.

You asked him what year it was and the guard made a face. He grabbed your wrist harshly and was about to throw you down until a boy in green threw an apple at his head.

The green boy clutched his hat and sent a push of wind towards the guard, making him unconscious.

"Venti?"

The boy froze, and slowly turned towards you. "Goodness gracious! Haha, that is right! I must be getting popular these days for you to recognize my face." He exclaimed with a bow and a tip of his hat.

You tilted your head. You cautiously walked close to inspect his face. "But we just had wine the other day? What're you..."

Your eyes snapped to your hands then back to his teal eyes. "Are you really Venti?"

The boy lifted his cape from right to left, picking out details. "I'm sure I am he, for what else could my name be?"

"Ah.. right." You said partially scared. "Venti, do you know who I am?"

Venti placed a finger in the air, "You know... I have vision from Barbatos himself. It allows me to know if the winds of a person are new and old, but yours..." He circled you, thinking. "You have the presence of my own wind though I've never met you. How strange."

"Well I mean- we just drank together yesterday so-"

Shouts and yells came from inside the Favonius Headquarters. Venti's eyes widened, reaching for you and ran to Mondstadt's central market and hid behind a box of crates. He shushed you, pointing to the guards asking for someone wearing green.

"Darn it! Looks like I'm a wanted fugitive again."

"Again?"

Venti frowned, looking at you, "Did I say 'again?' You make me say strange things. Well then!" He brushed the feeling off and flipped his cape inside out so he wore white instead of green. "The guards said a boy with a green cloak, but now I have a white cloak!"

"Wow, they'll never catch you now."

Venti grinned, "So... Even if you have Mondstadt's winds lingering on your clothes, I can't say I've seen you around- I should know, because this is where I'm bound."

Your lips parted a bit, still not catching on. "But Venti, we just went for drinks yesterday before I went back to camping in Dragonspine."

Venti squinted his eyes, "EHH??"

"Unless..." You muttered, thinking of the events that happened. You look at the statue of Barbatos far in the distance, then look at the boy in front of you.

"Barbatos," you said loud enough for only the two of you to hear.

To most people, it would seem nothing out of the ordinary happened, but you weren't most people. You worked with a few of the Captains of The Knights of Favonius. It is required to have a perceptive eye, (When you didn't catch on things as fast, Albedo would simply guide you to the right direction with a little mumble. Maybe he'd pull a few jabs, but it's all in good fun.) and when you whispered the archon's name, you note the way Venti makes a face. His eyes dart and he turned more giggly. He whistled like he hadn't heard what you just said.

You put two and two together and you realized that you've been friends with the Anemo Archon.

You slap a hand on your face. Shock runs up your body- not because Venti was the Anemo Archon, but because you were too slow on figuring it out.

"Archons- Venti? You're him?" You knit your brows pointing at the statue of him far away.

"Ehe~ you caught me," he held his hands up in surrender. "But how did you ever know?"

You thought back, excited. "Venti, you don't know this, but future you talked to me a day ago about my time travel thing, and it worked."

...

But of course, that was two years ago. You hadn't been exited about your discovery of time travel since then.

(part 6)

notes: crying sm venti's so hard to write like how would he react to stuff if he does or doesnt know like do i say he does know or doest ugh time travelling is so confusing especially if you're friends with the anemo archon

[amjustagirl]

Chapters: one. ~ two. ~ three. ~ four. ~ five. ~ six. ~ seven. ~ eight.

Wordcount: 2k

Summary: Being with Miya Atsumu is like chasing a storm - equal parts exhilaration and danger. After all, it’s impossible to tame a storm

Masterlist here 

AO3 link here

Author’s Note: And we’re at the penultimate chapter! Am rly excited to hear what you guys think - so please, drop me an ask, a note, a comment, anything!!! Thank you for following this fic with me <3

He stays away from her over the next two weeks. He still picks Shino up from childcare - he’s never leaving his little girl again - but takes Osamu’s advice to duck into the kitchen the minute he hears the bell chime to mark her entrance into the shop. 

‘Is everything alright with Atsumu?’ he hears her ask Osamu after a week of radio silence from him. 

He imagines Osamu just shrugs, because his twin later gives him a look of askance that he ignores. 

‘Meet me on Sunday afternoon? Was hoping to have a quick chat and pass something over to you since my arm is out of its sling.Osamu agreed to take Shino for a couple of hours, so don’t worry about her’, he texts her. 

‘Fine’, she texts back. ‘Works for me’. 

‘Hey’, he greets her as she opens the door, fighting the impulse to scruff his shoes into the ground like a nervous schoolboy on his first date. 

‘Hey yourself’, she responds without heat, slipping on her shoes. ‘Shall we?’ 

He nods, turning on his heel and she follows suit, their footfalls matching in pace, though they angle their bodies to avoid each other’s gaze in the lift. They do not exchange a single word until they reach the car park, and he leads her past all the cars to a dim corner, lit by a single flickering electric bulb.  

‘Atsumu - what’s this?’ she says, staring uncomprehendingly at the motorbike parked in front of her, the exact replica of the bike she sold when she got pregnant with Shino, albeit updated with a shining coat of new paint and the latest modifications, top of the line. 

‘Surprise?’ he tells her, unable to hide a grin when she runs a hand reverently over the seat of the bike. 

‘I can’t accept this, ‘Tsumu. It’s too much’, she demurs but he knows she’s fallen in love when she’s unable to tear her eyes away from the bike.

‘Sure ya can! I registered it under yer name, and paid for the parking fees for the year, and look! It even comes with a helmet!’, he assures her, crossing his fingers behind his back. ‘Ya can ride it whenever ya have time to yerself - I’ll make sure I or ‘Samu will take Shino-chan for a couple hours every weekend so ya can go break some speed limits on the bike!’ 

‘This isn’t a bribe, right? Or some attempt to trick me into agreeing into something I don’t want to do?’ she asks him suspiciously. 

‘No - no tricks, I swear on my life. Look - I’ve signed the divorce papers, they’re in my bag. I just wanted to give ya the bike as a partin' gift’, he says, keeping his voice deliberately light. 

She stares at him, searching his face for any sign of duplicity, but he holds her gaze until she turns away, satisfied. 

‘You never do anything by halves, do you ‘Tsumu? But thank you anyway’, she laughs breathily and his heart lurches to a start when he sees her slowly start to glow whilst fussing over the bike, exclaiming to herself as she admires the paint job and the extra compartments he’d gotten the mechanic to install. 

Watching her brings back memories of their adventures together before Shino came along. She’d pick him up for a ride to the outskirts of Osaka on their rare days off, in search for a spot to lay their picnic mat down and shoot the breeze. They’d never found that perfect picnic spot, but that just meant that there were more places to explore, more roads to traverse, more adventures for them to go on. That’d all stopped once Shino came along, and he wonders if they wouldn’t be in such a state if he’d put in more effort to carve out more time for them.   

And even before that - there was the time she’d surprised him by turning up in Kobe for one of his matches, sweeping him away from his confused teammates right after the match to celebrate over egg mayo sandwiches at 7-11. He suspects that was the day he’d fallen in love with her, half realising that she was probably the only person crazy enough to burn hours on the road on the back her rusty old bike right after an exam, just to stay up all night sitting cross-legged in a dim combini with mayo in her hair, listening to him ramble about his volleyball match. 

Wow. 'Samu's right. Even the reason he fell in love with her was fucking selfish. 

‘Hey ‘Tsumu’, he hears her say after a while and he looks up. ‘Wanna go for a ride?’ she asks brightly, twirling the keys around her finger. 

‘Huh?’ he responds, genuinely perplexed. 

‘A ride, you idiot. Don’t you want to find out how the bike feels on the road, especially since you’re the one who paid for it?’ 

‘Sure’, he says, a little lost - but then again she’s always found ways to keep him on his toes. ‘But there’s only one helmet’. 

‘I still have my old one upstairs. Give me a second so I can get it!’ she rushes off, a spring in her step he’s sorely missed seeing and despite the ache in his heart, he smiles. 

His smile vanishes the moment she kicks the bike full throttle and hurtles through weekend Osaka traffic at breakneck speed, making such sharp turns he almost falls off the bike if he weren’t already clutching her waist for dear life. ‘Oi! Look out!’ he yelps, as she weaves her way through narrow gaps between cars, seemingly deaf to the horns of outraged drivers behind her - and fuck he wants to puke but can’t because there’s no way that doesn’t end badly for him. 

‘Slow down, you fuckin' maniac’, he manages to shout when his stomach gives itself up for dead, but the wind swallows his words and she only whoops in response. The neon city lights blur into a mess of colours and he runs through his repertoire of curse words. He swears she’s evil - it’s not enough that she’s killed him once by divorcing him, her insane riding is going to make sure he’s doubly dead.

They burst onto the highway in a squeal of tires, the city skyline fading into a sea of lights, and they’re both so focused on the road ahead of them, well – she is, at least, he’s trying his level best to stay on his seat - that neither of them notice the dark clouds gathering above until the first splatter of raindrops on the road. 

The sky is threatening enough to make her swerve off the highway into a quiet neighbourhood, screeching to a halt at the nearest park with an empty shelter large enough to fit both of them. They jump off the bike, helmets dangling over their arm, and she catches hold of his hand as they splash their way through muddy puddles in a bid to escape the incoming storm. 

‘That was amazing!’ she laughs when they reach shelter, twirling on the tips of her feet, cheeks flushed pink with excitement, looking so happy and bright and alive -  like a bird spreading its wings to fly high in the sky, the way she used to be before their marriage broke her wings and shackled her to the ground. 

If only he hadn’t been blinded by the false allure of his dreams to appreciate what was right in front of him - a woman bold enough to whisk him away from the clutches of deranged fans on the back of a motorbike, fierce enough for Osamu to assign her to deal with his bullshit - and most of all, crazy enough to marry and have a child with him. And he knows she isn’t his, not anymore, but he's a greedy, selfish man, and he wants her one last time, so he throws his jacket over her shoulders as a pretext for drawing her close to him, slanting his mouth gently over hers. 

She stills for a second, and he’s about to pull away when she melts into him, tilting her chin up to grant him greater access to her lips. An unexpected heat coils in his stomach when she tangles her fingers in his hair, scraping her nails against his scalp, a thrill running down his spine as he loses himself in her familiar softness and warmth and groans.

She gasps, jerking away from him, tracing her bruised lips with her fingers, looking up at him with wide eyes.

‘Tsumu’, she begins to say, but he cuts her off, frantic with worry that he’s scared her off before he’s had the chance to say his piece. 

‘I’m sorry - I know I shouldn’t have but I just...can I just say what I meant to say to ya before this?’ he asks, banking on the fact that she hasn’t slapped him yet, and to his relief, she nods. 

‘I’ve thought about what ya said, and yer right -  I’ve taken so much from ya I don’t deserve to ask ya for anything else, not when I should be the one making it up to ya for the rest of my life,’ he says, his heart cracking beneath his ribs (so it’s true, a heart can actually break) – because he knows now she’s lost to him, has been the second he'd forsaken his vows and stormed out of her life, but he gulps a breath to calm his pulse, forcing himself to continue on. 

‘All I want is for ya to be happy and free - and if signing these papers is the price I have to pay, I’ll do it for ya’. Then he draws the brown envelope from his bag, holding it out to her with shaking hands. 

She makes no move to take it from him. 

‘Do you even love me, ‘Tsumu?’ she asks, her voice feather light, a wisp in the wind. ‘Be honest with me, you don’t have to lie’.

There’s a searing pain in his chest and he closes his eyes, losing himself to the undercurrent of regret pulsing in his mind. 

‘I do’, he manages to choke out, peeling aside the rotting layers of vanity and greed and selfishness and pride to flay his chest open to present his heart to her, in all its bleeding, broken glory. 

‘Yer everythin’ I could’ve ever asked for, and it’s killin’ me to watch you walk away - but I deserve it cos I’m a fuckin’ idiot for not realisin’ that sooner, and ya have no idea how fuckin’ sorry I am for hurting ya so badly and making you think that I don’t love ya - because I do, gods, I do, I love ya so goddamned much.’

‘Does our marriage mean that much to you?’ she stares at him, her eyes clouded with an emotion he can’t make out. 

‘Yes’, he says simply, his response both a confession and a prayer. He makes no move to touch her, fearful that any misstep might tip them both over the edge, the storm of emotions swirling within him already threatening to swallow him whole. 

‘Then ask me again, ‘Tsumu’ she whispers, her fists clenched, trembling by her side.    

He blinks at her, but his confusion morphs into elated disbelief when she takes the brown envelope from him and rips it cleanly in half. 

Oh. 

‘Ask me again, ‘Tsumu’, she repeats, the clouds in her eyes clearing into pools of light. He wonders if it mirrors the rush of warmth and love and most of all - hope, overflowing in his heart. 

‘Wanna try jumping off a cliff again?’ he asks, voice shaking, echoing the request he made of her years ago.

She steps forward into his waiting arms, her smile like golden sunlight spilling through grey rain.  

‘Only if you promise to jump with me’, she says softly against his chest. 

He catches her forgiveness desperately in his hands, and seals his promise with his lips. 

[13uswntimagines]

Baseball Showoffs (Rose x baseball Player!Reader)

Request: reader x rose, maybe the reader is a baseball player and is up against the Braves aka Mr. pugh and then maybe the team hosts a watch party for the game

Authors Note: Hey dudes, so I might have gone a bit crazy with the baseball terms. I also happen to be a big Yankee’s fan, so if you don’t like them, you can totally switch the teams. I hope you enjoy! Feel free to send me feedback or just hit up my page if you wanna say Hi! 

Team bonding was a normal occurrence for the national team. It was typically a time filled with movies, stupid games like truth or dare and Dawn approved snacks. But today, it would be centered around a different kind of game. 

It was the Atlanta Braves taking on the New York Yankees, or as far as the team was concerned, you verses Dansby Swanson (more like Rose vs Mal, but everyone was too afraid to say it).

“I didn’t think you two liked baseball,” JJ muttered from beside Rose, tossing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. The woman in question rolled her eyes. 

“We don’t, but Y/n looks hot in the uniform, and her little celebrations are adorable,” The midfielder smirked, wiggling her shoulders as if to prove her point.  The two of you had been dating for 4 years, and in that time you still couldn’t convince her that baseball was remotely interesting. She only watched to see your bat flips and dance moves. You had recently been traded to the Yankees in the hopes that you could bring them the winning spirit from the Nationals (which they had lost after Jeter retired, or that at least what you told her).

“Y/n has been killing it this season. She has like a .370 batting average”  Ashlyn snorted, shoving popcorn in her mouth. She wasn’t a giant Yankees fan, but after the Braves defeat of the Marlins, she couldn't support them in good conscience. 

“Dansby isn’t bad either though, it’s like a .33,” Kelley argued. She wasn’t a huge baseball fan, but she had to rep for her state. 

“Yeah, but y/n has 16 home runs, and it’s only their 12th game, Mr. Pugh is going to have his hands full for sure,” Alyssa countered with raised eyebrows. Sure she didn’t like the Yankees as much as she liked the Cubs, but almost anyone was better than the Braves. 

“No offense to y/n, but my money is on the braves,” Kelley said nudging Rose, who nodded in understanding. 

“That’s right, gotta rep our home team,” Emily nodded back, giving the frat daddy a high five. 

“Aren't they away this week?” Mal asked with furrowed eyebrows. . 

“Y/n isn’t in grey so yeah,” Rose nodded. The only reason she knew that was because she thought you looked sexier in the blue pinstripes than the ugly grey one (though she much preferred the red uniform of the Nationals).

“Is that how it works?” Megan questioned, suddenly interested now that the fashion choices were the center of attention instead of batting averages or whatever. 

“Yeah, the home team wears white pants and bats 2nd” Kelley nodded, returning her attention to the TV where the 1st inning came to an end after a strikeout. 

“Y/n has got a damn good batting average and home team advantage, so she’s going to crush Dansby,” Rose mumbled and Mal rolled her eyes. There was no way that you were going to beat her boyfriend. 

“Well Dansby’s up to bat, so we’ll see just how they match up,” JJ laughed, enjoying how riled up the team was getting for a sport that everyone claimed to not like. 

*****

The New York sun was bright as you paced back and forth in the area between 2nd and 3rd base waiting for the next batter to be ready. You were frustrated that Dansby had managed to get into first, and with Riley up to bat, you were sure you were going to be getting some action soon.

You squared up to home plate, crouching slightly as Garrett got ready to throw the next pitch. The ball came off the bat like a rocket, slicing towards you as Dansby ran towards 2nd. Just as he rounded the base You caught the ball and tagged him as he passed you for a double play. 

“Couldn’t have given me that one?” He winked at you after the 3rd vase umpire called him out. The two of you were pretty close considering you hung out at lots of USWNT matches. 

“Not a chance, now stop trying to impress your girl and play smart, shoulda stayed at second,” You smirked back, tapping his chest with your glove. 

“Ooh, like you aren’t doing the same thing,” He laughed back.

“Never said I wasn’t, but it seems to be working out a little better for me, I just made an amazing catch” You held up the ball to prove your point. 

“Maybe you should go for something a little less subtle,” He shrugged back good-naturedly. Your girls weren’t big into baseball, but you were sure that your leaning catch would at least draw you a “good job” from Rose. 

“We’ll see, there’s a time and a place for everything,” You smirked at the man, shoeing him back towards the dugout. 

******

The team watch with bated breath as you edged your way off of second plate. It was the bottom of the 7th and your team was still frustratingly tied with Dansby’s (as your 2 run homer had been matched by 2 individual runs from the other team). 

“ the braves better be careful, Y/l/n has the highest stealing average in the league,” Ashlyn chimes in, and right in cue you made a break for 3rd base. 

The pitcher had been onto you, sending the ball towards Dansby, but you were already one step ahead, leaping over the man and landing safely on the plate. 

“God she so cute,” Rose sighed dreamily as you stuck your tongue out at Mr. Pugh. 

“She just stole a base and that’s what you say?” Kelley snorted. Yes her team was losing, but she had to admit that you had some serious skill. 

“She’s got dirt in her nose,” Rose shrugged, smiling wider when you did a little happy wiggle as your teammate stepped up to bat. 

******

The team crowded around the TV, far more interested in the outcome of this game than they thought they’d be. It was the bottom of the 9th, the bases were loaded and your team was down by 2. You needed to hit a run to win. 

The women watched as you tightened your fingers on the bat, the commentators mentioning how your famous left-handed swing was similar to Rose’s. 

“They should change the names on their jerseys, none of the fans call them by their own last names anyway,” Julie snorted, as the commentator went on about how this matchup was ingesting because you and Dansby were dating USWNT players. It didn’t help that you and him kept interacting every chance you got. 

“Y/n and I have the same number, so they don’t wanna confuse the fans,” Rose retorted with an eye roll. 

“She’s batting lefty?” Sam asked surprised. Every other time you were at-bat, you had hit righty. It was strange to see you switch it up. 

“Yeah, she’s a switch hitter. It’s probably to trip Soroka up,” Kelley shrugged. Their pitcher was known for having issues with lefties, and you guys needed a hit to win, so that was most likely your motivation. They just switched Anderson for him, so you changed that is too. 

“Soroka is solid. There’s no way she’s getting another hit off of him,” Emily fired back. The dude had one of the highest strikeout rates in the league, there was no way you were going to get anything more than a double. You were dangerous at-bat, and had already scored big, it was probably why they put him on the mound. 

“10 bucks?”  Kelley asked with a raised eyebrow, holding her hand out for a shake. Emily snorted, slapping the hand. 

“Deal,”

*****

You tightened your hands on the bat, your eyes taking in every detail of the pitcher. The bases were loaded, you were down by two, you needed a hit to keep your team alive. Soroka nodded at the catcher, winding up for the pitch. You had watched enough of his games to know what that windup meant. The ball seemed to move in slow motion as it left his fingers and screamed its way towards home plate, right down the middle in his famous fastball. You took a deep breath and swung the bat, a crack resounding throughout the stadium when it made contact. 

You watched the ball as it sailed towards the wall, standing frozen on home plate as it went. The fans roared when it came to a stop on the second deck of the stadium, a wide smile breaking across your face. You flipped your bat high and began the long trot around the bases, the fan’s cheers and the stadium’s fireworks the soundtrack to your success. 

“Now that’s how you impress,” You smirked cockily at Dansby as you rounded 2nd base. He was a good friend to you, but scoring a walk-off grand slam in the bottom of the 9th was the ultimate euphoric moment and it totally deserved a little bit of cockyness. 

“Whatever Y/L/N” The man smiled back shaking his head and low-fiving you as you passed him. You had beaten him in your competition to out show off to your girls this time, but he’d get you next time. Somehow, some way. 

As you jogged towards home plate, the camera zoomed in on you. You tapped your number, and blew a kiss towards it, hoping that Rose knew that you had hit that grand slam for her, to impress her. (unknown to you she caught the kiss through the T.V. and put it in her pocket). Sure she didn’t like baseball, but she loved you. 

[adarlingwrites]

Dormouse

Summary:

After playing a game with two of The Beach's most dangerous members, the dormouse gets her tail caught by a tiger's paw.

He’ll make a wildcat out of her.

Author’s notes: Surprise, have a double update! Have another chapter of light-hearted dialogue and self-indulgent smut featuring my favorite song from one of my favorite bands. Lord knows these two deserve it because of what I have planned in future chapters.

I watch you taste it, I see your face, and I know I'm alive | you're shooting stars from the barrel of your eyes | it drives me crazy, just drives me wild

XI

The next morning, the air is cold and crisp, and the sun barely provides any warmth as it kisses Takatora’s skin. Yamaneko is thankful for what little heat it provided her this morning, warming her ever so slightly. The rest was taken care of by the warm cup of coffee in her hand.

One of the Beach’s mechanics was busy checking the tires of the vintage four by four they’ll be using to grab supplies as the duo approached him. In the car is the girl that Yamaneko saw arriving with her father, whose face contorts into horror when she sees the two militants approaching.

“Tatta,” she calls out to her companion, panicking. “Militants!”

The young man, who seems like he’s around Yamaneko’s age, turns around and practically jumps, a look of unbridled panic on his face as the two approached him.

“Drive,” Yamaneko tells him, going right ahead and opening the door to the back of the car. The girl jumps off the back in a hurry, moving to the passenger seat in the front, nervously glancing at Tatta. The militants sat in the back.

The poor boy was shaking, clumsily pushing the key into the slot and turning it, the engine roaring to life.

“Um… where to?” Tatta asks the two of them. The girl next to him busied herself by looking outside the window, the sun imbuing her bronze skin with a golden hue and the breeze blowing through her shoulder-length hair.

“Shimokitazawa,” Yamaneko says mid-yawn. “Just drop us off there and you can go on with your supply run. Pick us up in the afternoon.”

“Got it,” he replies, stiff as a board in the driver’s seat.

Yamaneko notices their unease. Flicking her coffee stirrer towards the front, she laughs as the two flinches. “Relax. If we wanted to hurt you, we would’ve done it by now. We just want a ride, that’s all.”

The girl shifts in her seat and gives Yamaneko a nervous smile. “So, what are your names?”

“Just call me Yamaneko. He’s called Last Boss.”

“Your friend doesn’t talk much, does he?” the girl asks, each syllable spoken with caution. “I-I mean not like it’s a bad thing…”

The militant woman smirks, taking a sip of her coffee. “Yeah. He’s the quiet type. What about you two newbies? Care to introduce yourselves?”

The boy and the girl glance at each other, as if gauging who should go first. “I’m Kodai Tatta,” the boy answers, then the girl opens her mouth to talk. “Zia Hinata.”

“Zia, huh? Not a lot of Japanese girls have that name. Is one of your parents a foreigner?”

When Hinata doesn’t respond, Last Boss leans over and glares at her. She yelps, and takes a deep breath. “Y-yeah! My mother is Filipino,” she near-exclaims, pitch rising an octave or two.

Yamaneko puts a hand on Last Boss’ arm and laughs. “No need for that. She’s obviously just scared of us.”

She can practically hear the sigh of relief Hinata lets out from where she’s sitting when he withdraws.

“Saw you arrive a few days ago,” Yamaneko comments. “It looks like Niragi has taken an interest in you.”

The sharp exhale Hinata gives her says it all. “Yeah.”

“Word of advice? Niragi tries to break anyone who makes his cock hard. If he attempts to fuck you, just try to pretend that he doesn’t faze you. He thrives off of his victims’ fear.”

Tatta almost swerves into a barricade, and he exhales a few times while fixing the cap on his head, while Hinata presses a palm on her forehead. The boy with the cap gives his companion a nervous, concerned glance.

“Yeah, well, about that… I knew him before I ended up in this place. So, I doubt that will work,” Hinata mentions, nervously picking at the skin around her fingernails.

“He’s a bastard even back then, huh?”

“Actually, no. He was my upperclassman. I was his only friend in middle school. He was nothing like that back then… Now he’s, well, evil. And he won’t leave me alone. Supply runs with Tatta are my only escape.”

“Well, this is awkward,” Yamaneko comments, cringing and gulping the rest of her coffee. She tosses the cup, the wind carrying it away. “Thanks for confirming that he’s always been a loser though. Good luck getting that bastard off your back.”

The rest of the ride is filled with uncomfortable silence, with Yamaneko having given up on making small talk with the new citizens of the Beach. Perhaps it comes with her status as a militant. People were told to avoid them to avoid trouble after all, and she couldn’t blame Hinata being cautious around them after her experience with Niragi.

As they approached Shimokitazawa, Yamaneko’s sleepiness wears off entirely and a smile laden with nostalgia sweeps across her face. Quaint little shops of vintage clothes lined up in the streets, along with abandoned cafes, record stores, and bookstores. Even Last Boss’ interest seems piqued, eyes lively as they pass by the storefronts. Tatta takes in the sights as well, mouth open in wonder, and half of Hinata’s body is practically outside the window as she gawks at the colorful neighborhood, the street murals a welcome change from the half-naked bodies of the Beach.

They stopped outside a cafe, and the two militants hopped off. Tatta doesn’t drive off though, still impressed by this odd little neighborhood in the middle of the once-bustling Tokyo.

“Hey! Don’t you two have a supply run?” Yamaneko shouts playfully, while Last Boss is already wandering off to check the place out.

“Sorry! I got distracted,” Hinata shouts, then she pauses. “I wanted to do a mural in a place like this.”

“Then hurry up so you can do that later,” Yamaneko replies, one hand on her hip.

“Y-yeah! We’ll come back to pick you up from the same spot in the afternoon,” Hinata shouts back, and she ducks her head as she sits back down in the car. She looks to her companion, and whispers, “Let’s hurry. I wanna explore this place later, too.”

Tatta smiles at her, and drives away.

As the car speeds off, Yamaneko turns around and runs after her lover, who stopped in front of a bookstore. The female militant wraps an arm around his, and leans against his bicep. “You wanna check out this shop first?”

Takatora nods, and they enter the store together, the bell making a faint chiming sound as he pushes the door open. Books, manga, trinkets, and other items lined up on the shelves; an impulse-buyer’s worst temptation, and a book lover’s dream. Like a child let loose in a candy store, Yamaneko grabs a basket and starts to rifle through the assorted items.

“My sister told me about this neighborhood, you know,” she comments offhand as she continued looking through the items. “Aside from Harajuku, this is the other place I used to blow my allowance on.”

A small smile tugs at Takatora’s lips, watching as his lover adds knick-knacks and other clutter in her basket, and he turns to browse some books.

Some time later, Yamaneko comes behind him and buries her face on his back.

“Found anything you like?” she asks, and the taller militant turns around to face her, a few blank notebooks tucked under his arms, and a mountaineering encyclopedia in his hands. He folds the encyclopedia and holds it out for her to see, and he has a sheepish expression on his face. Yamaneko holds out her basket, and he drops the items in with an uncharacteristic gentleness.

“I didn’t know you’re into mountaineering,” she comments.

“Not really. Explorers. But I couldn’t find a book about them.”

“Oh? Who’s your favorite explorer?”

“Robert Edwin Peary,” Takatora responds, and Yamaneko smiles.

“Tell me about him.”

She listened to Takatora talk, trying to fight the huge smile from blooming on her lips as she heard him say anything more than a short sentence. As she listened to him talk about how Peary lost his toes to frostbite, she packed their items with care in a shopping bag, then they moved on to the next store.

They pass by a small sukajan store, and a cold breeze that sends chills up Yamaneko’s spine urges her to check it out. Various bomber jackets with beautiful, intricate embroidery hung from the shop walls, and she couldn’t help but admire the artistry in each stitch. A particular jacket caught her eye, a black one with a roaring tiger and peach blossoms embroidered on it.

She tiptoes to reach it, but her shorter stature prevents her from taking it, fingers barely brushing the hem of the jacket. Amused, Takatora extends his arm and takes it from the rack, and hands it to the shorter militant. After muttering an embarrassed “thank you”, Yamaneko puts on the jacket, and admires herself at the dirty mirror nearby.

“This jacket reminds me of you,” she says to her lover. He responded by pulling her close, silently asking for a kiss.

Yamaneko responds by tenderly pressing her lips onto his. Before he can taste her with his tongue, she pulls away and gives him a devious smirk with half-lidded eyes. “If we continue this, we would end up spending the day just fucking. There’s more places I want to see, c’mon.”

Looking at her with longing, Takatora relents, nodding. He follows her out of the store, and they pass by several shops and cafes before ending up in an antique shop by noon. He was taken aback when Yamaneko squealed, and she ran towards the glass storefront. There, she marvels at an antique sewing machine, eyes glittering with excitement.

“It’s a Singer,” she gasps, trying to contain her excitement. Pushing through the entrance, she rushes in and lets her hands wander over the black finish of the machine. Meanwhile, Takatora leans at the door, mouth tugging upward upon witnessing his lover’s excitement.

“We’re taking this back to the Beach. I don’t give a shit, I’m not leaving this here.”

“If that’s what you want, Yamaneko,” Takatora responds, walking over to ruffle her hair.

As she fusses over the machine, he explores the rest of the shop. Aside from the old typewriter that he decided he will be hauling back to the Beach too, an old instant camera on a dusty counter catches his eye. Long fingers gingerly pick up the Polaroid, and brushes the dust off of the item. Under the counter are boxes of old film, and he reads the instructions on the back.

The sound of a shutter breaks Yamaneko out of her trance, and she turns around to see her lover holding a Polaroid and a photograph, waiting for her image to show up on the paper. She grins and nudges him.

“Nice find,” she says.

Takatora aims the camera at her again, and Yamaneko smiles for him. Sweet. Inviting. One that she hasn’t given anyone in a long time.

As they wait for the photographs to develop, the wildcat saunters over to a vintage Sansui turntable, browsing the pre-loved vinyl records piled neatly beside it. Ranging from the 50s to the early 2010s, Yamaneko browsed through them, most of which are from UK and US musicians. Her English wasn’t the best, so she just picked what she thinks looked most interesting; a vinyl record whose cover had a white owl imposed on a black background as the album art.

Behind her, her tiger prowls, pressing himself against her back as she places the needle on the vinyl. He buries his face in her hair, taking in her scent, and his free hand roams her body, while the other still holds the Polaroid. Through his black pants, he’s already at half-mast, and Yamaneko giggles at her lover’s earnest desire to have her.

“It’s already noon. Those two will be back soon,” he whispers. “Can we do it here?”

She spins around, pulls him by his jacket, and plants a hard kiss on his mouth, restraint slipping away. The camera makes a light clatter as Takatora puts it down on the pile of records, both of his hands cupping his lover’s face as he kisses her deep, permission to taste her granted when she parts her mouth.

Reaching behind, Yamaneko undoes the strings of her top, which she pulls and tosses to the nearest surface. Spindly hands grab the soft mounds on her chest, squeezing hard enough to draw a whine from her. The wildcat throws her head back, and her lover swoops in to assault her neck with kisses as his fingers fondled her nipples.

Before he can lean down to suckle on them, Yamaneko kneels and undoes his belt, pulls his trousers down, and licks at the skin on his flat stomach. Damp and hot against her cheek, she rubs her face against his clothed cock, smiling impishly as she teases him and draws a rasp from his throat.

Deft fingers pull the rest of the fabric down and the tattooed militant’s cock springs out of his boxers, stiffening from all of his lover’s teasing. At a torturous pace, Yamaneko drags her tongue from the underside of his shaft all the way to the tip, encloses her lips around the head, and pulls back with a lewd pop. One of his hands grasps at her wild hair, holding on for dear life.

She looks at the camera from the corner of her eyes. “I have an idea,” she croons against the angry, blushing head of his cock. “Why don’t you go ahead and take more photos to remember me by?”

Her lover gulps, cock twitching from the request. “Are you sure?”

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I wasn’t,” Yamaneko hums, and gives his head one teasing lick.

Grabbing the camera again, Takatora could barely aim it properly as Yamaneko finally went ahead and took his whole length in her mouth, soft lips sliding against his shaft as she bobbed and twisted her head at every stroke. Small hands grasping his length, she opens her mouth to stick out her tongue, and presses it on the underside of his head, holding that position long enough to let him take a photo.

As soon as she hears a click, Yamaneko goes back to work, this time enclosing his balls with her warm, wet mouth as her hand stroked him, humming in delight as she drew a lengthier rasp from her tattooed lover, his head thrown back in bliss. Afterwards, her mouth goes back on his length, and she goes all the way to the base of his dick, doing her best not to choke. Yamaneko pauses so he can get a picture, looking at him with an inky, black tear running down her cheek.

The sight almost drove her tiger wild, who began to fuck her mouth hungrily, gaze searing as he watched his length disappear in her loving mouth. More tears start to stream down out of his lover’s eyes, which remains fixed on his, and wet, lewd sounds fill the shop, accompanied by her choked moans and the music blaring from the Sansui.

“So good… You make me feel so damn good,” Takatora whispers, breath rasping as he continued to violate her mouth.

Legs shaking, his breathing quickens as he comes closer to the end, and he presses Yamaneko’s face against his hips, grunting as he floods her mouth with his cum. Her throat constricted around him as she struggled to swallow the load, overflowing from the corner of her mouth, mixing with the creamy formula of her lipstick. Takatora pulls her head away from him, and predicting what follows, Yamaneko grabs her jacket and opens it wide, the fabric sliding off of her shoulders, letting the next spurt of his cum land on her face and breasts. Panting heavily as she gasped for air, she looked up to him, a satisfied smile on her open mouth, and she milked the rest of his come onto her tongue.

With an unstable hand, Takatora photographed all of those moments, letting the instant film fall to the ground. They’ll pick those up later.

For now, he picks up his lover and puts her on a nearby surface, a delicately-varnished, antique wooden table. Clumsily, he loads the Polaroid with another box of film, and takes more photographs. Makeup ruined, smiling, and naked from the waist up, she lies on the table to catch her breath, beads of cum dripping to the side of her breasts. He preserves the fleeting moment with another click of the camera, then he puts it down beside her. He kissed her skin and tasted himself in the process.

A warm tongue flicks on the wildcat’s hardened nipple, and she moans as Takatora toys with them, flicking them back and forth with a finger, swirling his tongue around it, then putting it in his mouth. The sucking motion makes her hips buck against him, her juices staining her underwear from her arousal.

Frantic and greedy, he pulls those away, and photographs her naked body. He dips two fingers in the entrance of her pussy, and the wildcat arches her back, a low moan rumbling from her throat, while her lover takes another shot, this time including her face, twisted from lust. Then, he gets to work, setting the camera aside once more, and shoving his face against her crotch.

Long fingers assaulted her hole, stroking at a sensitive spot, while his tongue played with her swollen clitoris, earning him a sustained moan. With his free arm, the tattooed militant takes one of his lover’s legs and hooks it over his shoulder, his cheek resting on her creamy thighs as he continued to fuck her with his hand.

Yamaneko cracks her eyes open, and sees their reflection on a mirror right across them. She picks up the Polaroid, her turn to capture the private moments between the two of them. Her lover's lips, stained with her juices, seal against her sensitive bud and she almost drops the camera from the way it made her feel, her legs quivering and toes curling from the sensation.

She swore she heard him chuckle against her with a near-sinister tone.

Just when she thought he couldn’t push her any further after that, he adds a third finger, and his pace turns brutal. Yamaneko’s hands scramble for purchase against the varnished, wooden surface, trying to find an edge she can cling to. A searing, almost painful pleasure builds in her core, which bursts and sets her on fire as a fourth finger fills her, the stretch pushing her over the edge.

White spots filled the wildcat’s vision as she came, crying and moaning as she rode his fingers. They pull out of her ruined pussy, a wet, sloppy mess staining the antique table, earning him a whine.

Yamaneko rolls over, panting and resting on her stomach, the sound of the shutter clicking again. Arching her back, she puts on a show for her lover, smiling as he used up the last of the film. She relaxes as he busies himself with loading the last box of film.

“Do you want to keep going?” he asks her, a hand on her ass, gently squeezing the globe of muscle and fat. His cock, semi-hard again, rests between her buttocks.

“Yeah. Can we go slow at first?” Yamaneko replies, looking over her shoulder.

“Sure.”

With unexpected tenderness, he parts her legs, and tucks his cock inside her. He pulls her jacket down halfway, exposing her upper back, and he presses his lips on her skin, sucking at the back of her neck. This makes his wildcat arch her back, throwing her head back in desire. Her walls clench around him, which makes him harden further. His tongue traced circles on her shoulder as he started to rock his hips again.

Yamaneko moans his name as he clamps his mouth down on her good shoulder, the scrape of his teeth shooting pleasure down her spine.

Each thrust is torturous, deliberate. A staccato of gasps filled the space as the head of his cock kissed a sensitive spot deep inside her with each stroke, accompanying the music. Sucking hard on her neck, Takatora’s hand moves to her breasts, fondling them as he went on with his ministrations. One arm propping herself up, and another reaching for the Polaroid, Yamaneko takes a photograph of the tender moment through the mirror, and she sets the camera down, content in letting her lover take over and be in charge of their collective pleasure.

Takatora takes off her jacket, and his hand presses itself on the small of her back. Her tiger leans over to whisper, lips brushing against the shell of her ear. “Can we go faster now?”

“Please, go as fast or rough as you want,” she moans, looking up to him. She braces herself, grabbing the edges of the table for what’s coming. “Use me, Takatora.”

He smiles, and grabs her neck to push her head against his chest. Takatora gives her a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss, their juices mixing together.

As soon as the kiss ended, she let out a strained moan as her lover bucks forward, sharp hips colliding with the soft flesh of her ass. Lewd sounds of flesh slapping together fills both of their ears as he fucked her forcefully, ruthlessly. Yamaneko’s holes quiver as Takatora repeatedly fills her, pussy squelching at each thrust, while his thumb hovers over her other entrance, teasing it, gathering the wetness from below and spreading it over the puckered hole.

“Should I put it in?” he rasps, and Yamaneko nods repeatedly, desperately.

“Fuck, yes, please!”

Grinning, panting, Takatora slides his dripping thumb in, and the tight ring of muscle constricts around it. The rest of his fingers grip her ass, pulling and pushing her against his cock. The action made Yamaneko throw her head back and scream as a wave of pleasure crashed through her body, the combined pressure of his cock and finger making her holes pulse simultaneously.

Another mind-numbing orgasm turns her limbs into jelly, and she sprawls on the desk. The aftershocks of her high milked the cum out of her lover’s cock, who grunts and gasps as he reaches his own release.

His thumb slides out of her first, then his member, and he lies on top of her, their sweat and other bodily fluids mingling together. He kisses his wildcat’s neck, covered with a film of salty sweat, and gently cups her face to press his lips against hers.

“Good?” Yamaneko asks, and he nods.

The taller militant’s weight leaves her, and she felt exposed. He retrieves her clothes, and she gets up to sit at the edge of the table. Helping her get dressed, Takatora gives her a small, bashful smile. “Good?” he asks her in return.

Yamaneko smiles back and nods, glancing tenderly. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replies.

When their clothes are back where they should belong, the pair started picking up the scattered photographs from the floor. Everything looked scandalous, save for Yamaneko’s photograph where her back was turned from the camera, and the one where she smiles at him.

Takatora decides that those are his favorites, out of all of them.

As they went out of the store, they saw the four by four parked nearby. They didn’t even notice the other two coming back earlier.

Around the corner, Tatta and Hinata sit on the sidewalk, chatting amongst themselves, and behind them is a street mural with fresh paint. When Yamaneko approaches, the boy couldn’t look at the militant, his cap shadowing his face, and Hinata nervously glances at her, dried paint on her flushed cheeks.

“Ah, hey Yamaneko! Um, you two were busy, so Tatta and I just worked on this while waiting for you,” Hinata tries to say with a straight face. She fails. “Don’t worry we didn’t see much. We’re so sorry,” she continues, and both of them bow in apology.

So they did see them.

Yamaneko cackles at her scandalized expression. “What are you two, children? Your parents more or less did the same thing to make you. You’ll see even more of that action at the Beach in public. Get over it and help us load our stuff.”

Hinata clears her throat and nods, standing up and avoiding looking at her. Tatta follows suit, walking like he broke a leg, one hand covering the front of his shorts.

“Hell, you two might as well enjoy each other’s company too,” Yamaneko adds, shouting after them.

Without seeing their faces, she just knows the blush on their faces got deeper.

[justfrozenthings]

Eternal Happiness

Paring: Anna/Kristoff

Rating: G

Word Count: 1,431

Notes: Just a little fic I wrote for @annaofthenorthernlights. Hope you enjoy this fluffy family fic I wrote!

Summary: Anna and Kristoff spend a nice day on the lake with their newborn daughter Amara as they reflect on the happy times of their life together.

Anna hummed a soft tune as she cradled her newborn baby Amara in her arms. “She has your nose. Thank goodness,” Kristoff chuckled as he sat beside his wife on their bed, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, and happily looking down at the little bundle that they had created together. “And your hair,” Anna sighed dreamily, resting her head on his shoulder.

Kristoff rubbed small circles along her back. “You know. I used to think I never needed anybody, that it would just be me, Sven, and our boat. But then- well then I met you. And now here I am. I have a beautiful wife, a loyal dog, a great boat, and now a little girl that I can call my own.” Tears began to swell in his eyes as he thought about how lucky he had been. “I couldn’t be any happier than I am right now.”

Anna kissed his cheek, “Me either.” She rose to her knees and nestled herself in Kristoff’s lap, being careful not to disrupt little Amara from her slumber. “Tell you what. How about tomorrow we take the boat out for a nice little cruise on the lake. I figured we’ve been so busy as of late it would be nice to take a little break.” She looked down at the sleeping infant in her arms, “Plus. Amara hasn’t been on the boat yet and I think she’s old enough to go out as long as we’re careful.”

Kristoff beamed at this suggestion and kissed the soft ginger hair on his wife’s head. “I could not think of a better way to spend a day with the two girls I love most in the world.”

-----------

Anna placed Amara in her stroller and pulled the hood down so that the sun would not be beaming down on her. Anna dawned a huge white floppy sun hat with a cute little white sundress printed with sunflowers and brown sandals to match. She pulled down her sunglasses as she sat on the front porch, carefully rocking the stroller back and forth while she sipped on an ice-cold glass of lemonade. Kristoff was still in the kitchen packing up their lunches. As she waited, Anna closed her eyes and listened to the sweet chirps of the birds and the soothing music from the chimes that were being blown in the light breeze. She daydreamed about her life and all the opportunities that she had been blessed with. Growing up, she was often lonely. Her sister Elsa and her used to be very close as children, until one day she grew very ill and, in worry, their parents kept them apart so that Anna would not catch it as well. Though she knew her parents meant well by doing this, as they were told that the chances of Elsa surviving were slim, it still caused her to have just the tiniest amount of resentment towards them. However, that was all in the past now. Elsa had pulled through and Anna had fixed her relationship with her sister and now their bond was stronger than ever. Not only that but she had found happiness with Kristoff and now had a daughter made from their love. Kristoff always called himself the lucky one, but Anna thought that, if anyone was lucky, it was her.

When Kristoff came out with a reusable bag filled with their lunch he saw his wife looking ever so peaceful on the porch swing he had built. The sun cast a radiant glow upon her ivory freckled skin and her hair looked like wildfire. Gently setting the bag down he kneeled in front of her taking her hands in his. “Hey. Anna, ready to go?” Anna gave a small yawn and stretched her arms over her head. “Yep. Oh, did you make sure to pack the sunscreen?”

He gave a small nod. “Everything is all packed and ready.”

Together they strolled down the street of their neighborhood, holding hands and pushing the stroller as they laughed about the good times of the past. One story, in particular, made Anna laugh so hard, lemonade came out of her nose.

The story was about their first kiss and how awkward the both of them had made it. Both were too nervous to ask or give any sort of hint that they were ready to take their relationship to the next step. But, as Kristoff dropped her off on her front porch he decided that it was now or never. However, instead of forming one coherent sentence, it came out all scrambled and tongue-tied. At some point within the sentence Anna swore she could have heard him say “we me,” but he was rambling so fast that she couldn’t be sure.

When the little family had reached the marina they made sure to stop by and say hello to friends and neighbors. They had let those hold Amara who had already met the sweet baby and introduced her to those who hadn’t.

Eventually, after Kristoff had to nearly drag Anna to with him when she finished a conversation so that she would not go and start another one, they made their way down the wooden dock.

As Kristoff got the boat ready, Anna was busy strapping a lifevest and lathering sunscreen on Amara. However, when he snuck a quick glance, a deep rumble echoed in his stomach as he laughed at his wife and daughter who was now covered in streaks of white. Okay, so maybe she went a little crazy on the sunscreen, but can you blame her! Amara was still only a newborn and Anna, being the protective mama bear that she was, would do everything in her power to protect her. Even if that meant applying an excessive amount of sunscreen.

Once the boat was all set, and Anna had finally decided that Amara had enough sunscreen, Kristoff pulled out of the little port. Anna went to go sit beside him, placing Amara in her lap and resting her head on his shoulder. She closed her eyes and let out a delightful sigh as she felt the soft wind blow through her hair. “This is nice,” Anna said, giving a small smile. “We have both been so busy lately, that we hardly get to spend some nice quality time with one another.”

Kristoff wrapped an arm around her shoulders, giving them a gentle squeeze. “Yeah. I miss you when I’m at work. It’s strange not having you there.” Only a year after the two had gotten married they opened up their own flower shop. Flowers were actually what had brought them together, and they both hated being apart from each other for long periods of time, so they thought why not start a business that had a connection to their eternal happiness. But ever since Anna had the baby and took on the job of being a stay-at-home mom, Kristoff missed getting to work with her every day. After cruising around the lake for a few minutes, they found a nice shaded enclosure to anchor down and eat their lunch.  They continued to ramble on about the happy memories they have made as they ate their peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and sipped on the sweet nectar of their ice-cold lemonade. Amara was still breastfeeding so Kristoff had packed the blanket Anna used to cover herself up with whenever she fed the small child. They finished up their meal with a nice chocolate cake with chocolate icing, Anna’s favorite, that Kristoff’s mother had made for them a few nights prior to help Anna get through the stress of taking care of a newborn baby.

The little family had spent the rest of the day basking in the summer sun and listening to Kristoff strum a silly song he and Sven had made many years ago. They felt sorry for leaving the sweet old dog behind, but he didn’t really care for he took his job as protector of the house, and Amara, very seriously.

As the sun began to set, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky, the family had made their way back to the marina. When they had made it home and the couple had nestled down in their bed holding each other contently, they reflected on the joys the day had brought them. “Today was perfect,” Anna sighed as she nuzzled her husband’s neck. “Yeah,” Kristoff said as he placed a kiss on her head. “Just another day we can add to our list of eternal happiness and more to come.

End Notes: Sorry for any grammar mistakes. This is just a fluffy little family fic that I may or may not make into a series. I already have a mermaid fic that I am writing and a forbidden love fic I want to start so we'll see how this goes. I have no clue why I like putting all this work on me either. But hey, at least it's something I like doing.

                 Ao3

[garrettandoscargirlsblog]

The Big Clean Up Benny X Santiago X Reader

Here is my entry for @autumnleaves1991-blog's Wednesday challenge. What would the house look like after Doc( female reader ) leaves to take care of Molly while she has surgery.

Note: lots of fluff.

The house was alive. Whether it is sounds of three female cats chasing each other. Or the sounds of the wind blowing the wind chimes. You were enjoying it all. Something you will miss,but one special thing you will miss the most is your handsome boys. Last month you got a call from Molly. Telling you that she needs to have surgery. Needs her to take care of her and the girls. On the night before you were supposed to leave. You were writing a chore list for benny and santi. To them they don't need one,but it is more than that. It is a how to do list. Perfect example is the laundry. Especially for benny. He makes a habit not to sort things out. As for Santiago? His habit is dirtying every dish while he cooks. Both of them have the habit of not putting things away. You hope the house is not wrecked when you get back. Your boys assure you that wont happen. Will would see to that. Since he would come by and "spy" on them. He knows how they are with domestic chores as well.

The day of the trip was a sad one. You got up early so you could have some alone time with them before they had to go to work. You and Santi cuddle on the couch. He places lazy kisses on your neck and shoulder. So what if he was going to be late on getting out of the door. He won't have the pleasure of waking up to her arms around him. As he got to get his stuff ready. In his santi like fashion he pulls you into his arm,and whispers something sweet into your ear. The hardest part is to leave benny. It would be the first time you two have never been apart. This is killing you. So you went upstairs to get back into bed to cuddle with your golden retriever. To your surprise you see Benny sitting up. Could tell he was crying. Poor baby. Had to cuddle with him. When you sit next to him; he lays his head on your lap. Playing with his hair you sniffle," I know baby. It is gonna be hard. We would get through this. I'm a phone call away. Even if you can't sleep. Call me. As I told you both last night. We will do lots of zoom chats. There will be nights I'll call you both too. " he sniffles," promise that you be safe. Tell Fish we all say hi. Give that God daughter of ours lots of hugs " looking at the clock,and notice it is time for him to get up. Slowly pulls away from your embrace. Gets up to take a shower. While you go down stairs to fix him his breakfast shake. Then feed her fur babies.

Benny took his shower. Sees you left your bag open. Knowing you need something to remind yourself of your boys. He puts in the stuffed animal that has his old tee draped over it. Noticed Santi left a few things for her too.

Will comes over to drive you to the airport. Sees his brother coming downstairs. Looking sad. Gives him a hug while he goes into the kitchen to get his breakfast and his lunch. Gives you a deep kiss. Make your toes curl up. Will pours some coffee in his cup," don't worry so much Doc. They will be fine. Besides, they wont be alone. These furballs would see that." You laugh when one of them hops on the counter to rub on your hand.

It has been one week since you left. Molly's knee surgery went well. You checked on the boys to see how they are doing. Benny tells you about his fight. Which he won. Also about the cat antics. On one occasion he almost took one to work. That made you laugh. Santi at one point pushes Benny aside so he could chat with you. Results into some playful banter. On the corner your eye. Could see some clothes scattered around the floor. Dishes on the nightstand. Not saying anything about it you tell them that you will call later on. Both of them blow you kisses.

Will texted you updates. Telling you that Santi sleeps in the guestroom. Benny in the master bedroom. You knew you would. Somehow you knew that would happen. He chuckles that they haven't been downstairs that much. Cats would sleep with them. That made you feel better. Another thing that made you feel better is the gifts they sneaked into the bag. Like Benny's old tee from Santiago's sweet love letter.

By the time week three arrived. Clothes started to pile up. It has been washed,but they were still in the basket or on your reading chair. Litter boxes were always being cleaned and food in the bowls. Dishes in the sink from two nights ago. With you being gone is taking its toll on the boys. Benny has a hard time sleeping. Santi was grumpy,and caused him to work from home. Needs to be around your presence so he can concentrate.

You texted Will. Telling him that you are coming back two weeks early. On account of molly noticed the fact of how you miss them like crazy. Telling when your flight would arrive. Which is sometime the next morning. Benny and Santiago would love that surprise. Soon after he got off the phone. Being the sneaky guy he is. Texted them that you would be home in a few hours. Wouldn't want to come home to a messy house.

As soon as they got the text. Both of them are scrambling to clean up! Santi starts cleaning the downstairs. Benny attacked the upstairs. Smiling that you soon be back! Both of them worked feverishly through the night. By the time you got home. Noticed the house was clean! Quietly going upstairs to see your men sprawled on the bed. Noticed few laundry baskets of clothes on the floor. Poor things haven't got to them yet. You quietly went into the bathroom to change into Benny's tee. No shorts,and Santiago's socks. Sitting on the floor. You started to fold the clothes. Santi turns over. Thought he was dreaming. Sees you on the floor. Couldn't take it anymore. Shakes benny," wake up man! Guess who is home!" He rolls over and sees you! Falling off the bed. Benny crawls on the floor attacking you. Santi takes a moment before he sits next to you. Both of them kiss you like crazy. This is what you need after being gone for so long. The clothes can wait. All you need is your boys. You crawl into bed with them. Not waking up till mid afternoon. All three of them attack the rest of the chores together. So glad to be back with your heart. Never want to be without them ever again.

[goldensunflowers98]

Coffee House Dreams

Luke Hemmings Imagine

Please let me know what you think❤️

Aurora sighed as she blew a golden blonde curl from her line of vision once again, her fingers lightly pressing against the piano keys while trying to find the right sound. The small coffee shoppe nestled in one of the side streets of London, where her sister worked tirelessly, bustled with life, the strong scent of espresso overwhelming her senses with every inhale.

She was here almost everyday since she couldn't afford a piano this nice at home, knew most of the customers by name, and she always enjoyed a classic, sweet, vanilla cappuccino after a long day at Uni.

Aurora was a simple girl who loved the sight of rain droplets on rose petals, the sound of the ocean waves crashing against the shore at night, and the scent of espresso as she played the piano. She loved the color red, especially her crimson colored scrunchie that currently tied her mess of golden curls up, and she found unkind people to be the scum of the earth.

She also found the mysterious blonde haired, blue eyed boy that hid his face being a pair of sunglasses and a steaming caramel latte to be the most beautiful creature she'd ever seen. He had started coming in just in the past week, but Aurora found his Australian accent positively enchanting and the dimples that appeared when he smiled made her slam her fingers down on the keys of the piano the first time she saw them, causing a loud crash of discord to sound through the small shoppe and for her to duck her blushing face when he whipped around confused.

He sat perched at the window seat across the way and Aurora noticed how he had a blueberry muffin as well today, his fingers picking at the treat as he watched the raindrops rolls down the clear glass beside him.

He looked sad today, Aurora noticed, the corner of his lips turned downwards and he anxiously fidgeted every few minutes, scratching his temple with his sweater paw.

Now, noticing she was staring like a crazy person, Aurora clears her throat, turning her attention back to the keys and the song she was trying to figure out.

Well the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin'

But you're stuck out in the same old storm again

The notes just don't sound as perfect as she wanted and she tries again in another key.

You hold tight to your umbrella, well, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya

That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head

She groans to herself, placing her head down on the polished wood, frustrated that she couldn't even get the cords right to her own song.

"That's a beautiful song. Have you tried it starting out in 'G' though?"

She gasps in shock, jumping backwards, her sheet music flying everywhere, and she nearly falls off the piano stool as she hears the accented voice of the mysterious boy who loved caramel lattes right beside her.

He looks mortified at her reaction, his bright blue eyes that were no longer covered by sunglasses were wide and his long arms were out like he was about to catch her before she hit the ground.

"Whoa! I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you," he says but it's all muffled as Aurora stares up at him in shock and wonder.

This mysterious boy wasn't so mysterious after all. He was Luke freaking Hemmings from her old favorite band, 5 Seconds of Summer. She had been staring at Luke Hemmings like a certified freak for over a week now and didn't notice. She really needed to get more sleep.

"It's fine. Everything is fine. Just startled me is all. First, you're way over there and now, you're all the way over here. You must have some long legs on you," she mumbles frantically like a crazy person, picking up her sheet music and as she finishes her sentence, her eyes trail from his torso, down his long legs, and to his feet that were awkwardly doing this thing where they turned into one another. "I rest my case."

He laughs lightly at that and her eyebrows raise when he rests his latte cup on top of the piano as if he was staying awhile.

"Sorry, I tend to creep up on people without them noticing. I'm Luke, by the way," he reaches out his hand for her to shake and Aurora smiles at the sight of his red gel fingernails, her favorite color.

"Aurora... I love the red," she says, earning a brilliant beam from him with a hint of a blush. He mumbles a 'thank you' quietly, tucking a wild blonde curl behind his ear sheepishly.

"You come in here a lot. Do you live close by or something?" He asks, taking a sip of his hot drink as she assorts her music once more.

"Are you stalking me, Luke?" She smirks as he nearly chokes on his drink and starts to fumble over his words.

"N-No! No, I just hear you play every time I come in. It's quite nice and it's a small... it's a small shoppe. Oh, god... Please don't think I'm a psycho stalker," he winces behind his cup, knowing his previous words made him sound like a creep.

"I'm just kidding," she giggles with a mischievous grin, finding his nervousness to be quite funny. "It's a small and quiet coffee house. Not many new people come in, so you're a sight for sore eyes, for sure."

She furrows her brows as he doesn't really reply to her statement, looking back at the door as it chimes, lips bitten harshly by his front teeth. He looks disappointed as Andrew, the local dog walker who liked a double fudge hot cocoa after a long morning of trudging along behind a sweet saint bernard, two huskies that were brothers, Mrs. Henderson's prize winning poodle, and a teacup yorkie that had a bite of a lion, walked in.

"Waiting for someone?" She asked quietly, trying to be gentle as his face is crestfallen after checking the time.

"Uh.." he runs his hand through his curls, tugging at the roots anxiously for a moment before turning back to her. "My girlfriend. She... We've been fighting a lot recently, but she was supposed to meet me an hour ago to talk some stuff out."

Sierra Deaton, Luke's girlfriend, was a sweet girl from what Aurora observed from the tweets and Instagram posts, but every relationship had its downfalls.

"Maybe she's stuck in traffic. You know how London is," she once again tries to be gentle with his feelings and her heart aches just a bit when she sees his deep frown.

"Yeah... Maybe it's just London." He hides his upset eyes by a fake smile and Aurora finds it upsetting at just how good he seemed at that specific action; hiding his true feelings.

"Fuck," he suddenly curses, looking frantic for a second as he starts collecting all of his belongings.

"What's wrong?" Aurora asks, his nervousness making her anxiety spike.

"I'm late for rehearsal. Shit! I completely forgot," he shoves his phone in his pocket and shoots back the rest of his latte quickly. "It was so nice finally meeting you! Um, I'll probably see you tomorrow! Try starting the song out in G!" As quick as he stumbles out his words, he is out of the shoppe and Aurora watches in hazy confusion as he speed walks past the window, tugging at his hair nervously again.

"That boy is going to go bald one day if he keeps that up," she mumbles, turning back to her piano and feeling a bit confused and star struck by her encounter.

"What boy?" She hears her sister ask as she walks around the corner, taking Luke's empty mug from off the piano and placing it in the dirty dish tray she had rested on her hip.

"Just a boy, Cece," she smiles up at her older sister who looked disheveled after a long shift. "Damn, you look rough."

Celestia rolls her eyes playfully at her little sister, reaching up to maintain her jet black hair that was nothing like her sister's. You would have never have known that they were related if you had set your eyes on the curly blonde haired, green eyed, shy girl and the older, upbeat girl with obsidian hair and bright, blue eyes. "Want another cappuccino?" She asks, earning a grin and a nod from Aurora as she walks away.

Looking down at the ivory keys, Aurora hums to herself as she hovers her fingers over the 'G' key. Beginning to play the song, she can't help but grin and scribble down notes inside her tattered song journal. Maybe Luke knew what he was talking about after all.

________

The sun is dimly shining the next morning and Aurora inhales the smell of wet asphalt after the night full of rain, a small smile on her face. Turning the corner towards the coffee shoppe, she nearly stops in her tracks as she sees a familiar, teary-eyed boy through the window, sitting in his normal seat. He was alone, no coffee or muffin in sight and she watches as he buries his distraught face in his hands.

Trudging along slowly while taking looks back at the upset Luke through the window, Aurora frowns as she enters the shoppe and walks over to the counter. "Hey, Cece. I need a vanilla cappuccino, a caramel latte, and two blueberry muffins, please. Put extra caramel drizzle and whipped cream on the latte too."

She ignores her sister's confused smirk as she places the money on the counter, continuing to look over at Luke, who's shoulders were now lightly shaking with sobs. Her order is quick to arrive and she collects the cups and muffins carefully, making a beeline towards Luke's table.

"Hey, sunshine," she whispers solemnly, a gentle, comforting smile on her lips as he looks up with red rimmed eyes, a flushed nose and cheeks, and sniffles quietly.

"Hey," he croaks, wiping his eyes and looking embarrassed that she caught him in his weakest moments.

She slowly slides the muffin and caramel latte in front of him and when he looks up at her confused that she got his order right, she shrugs lightly. "Lucky guess," she says before taking the seat in front of him.

"I know we just met and aren't the best of friends, but I felt like you needed someone to talk to or else you wouldn't be sitting here in the middle of a public coffee house and crying, so... Here I am," she says, stuffing a large bite of blueberry muffin in her mouth and ignoring the crumbs that fall onto the table.

He doesn't say anything for a few moments, a dazed look in his eyes as he gazes out the window and stirs his spoon around and around the rim of his cup.

Aurora is patient, half of her cappuccino finished before he finally parts his lips to speak.

"She left me. She said she didn't want to deal with the distance when we go on tour again and that she didn't trust me to not h-hook up with other girls while I'm gone. I've never done anything but give her l-love and reasons t-to...to trust me! I would n-never cheat."

His words, heaving chest, and his trembling lip are enough to make Aurora wince in sympathy, nearly burning her tongue as he says it in the middle of her taking a larger gulp.

"I'm so sorry, Luke... I know she meant a lot to you or you wouldn't be having this reaction." He nods solemnly as her words before she continues. "If it's any consolation, she didn't deserve you after you kept trying to meet up and talk and she never showed. You tried. She didn't. Some people aren't worth your tears. I know that's not going to stop you from being upset, but it's a thought to think about."

His eyebrows furrow a bit at her words before he gives a small nod. "I guess you're right," he says, showing progress in his mood as he finally picks up his latte and takes a small sip.

It's quiet for a few more minutes and the second that Aurora sees his bottom lip start to tremble again, she panics and leans forward. "Hey," she reaches out and lightly touches his hand. "Want to get out of here? I've got this place I'd like to show you if you let me. It's a bit of a drive, but you won't regret it."

Looking down at his watch, he seems to weigh the pros and cons for a moment before giving in. "Why not?" He says, standing and throwing his jacket on as Aurora looks up, slightly dumbfounded that he accepted.

"Okay," she stands up and gets out an excited giggle, placing their cups in the bin. "Lets go"

With a wave to her sister, who was giving her a proud smirk, Luke puts on his sunglasses and they leave the coffee house, making their way to her car that was parked around the corner.

"Holy shit, this is amazing!" Luke laughs unbelievably at her cherry red 1976 Cadillac Eldorado Convertible with cream colored interior.

"Thanks! It was my granddad's!" Climbing in, she cranks the car and with an excited grin and looking both ways, she pulls out into the traffic.

The wind blows through their hair as the cruise down the roads and Aurora gently smiles when she looks over and sees Luke grinning as he looks at the scenery and people around.

"Here," She hands him her phone as she enjoys the cool breeze, placing her sunnies over her eyes. "You choose the music."

"Brave choice," he hums, taking the phone and beginning to scroll through the songs until he gets to a certain category.

"I knew it!" He shouts with a crazed laugh, Aurora giving him an odd look as she worries for his health.

"You okay there, bub?" She asks with a slight chuckle before he shoves her phone in her face with a wide grin.

"Every one of our albums, including our old EP's, and features. I knew you were a fan!" He laughs as her face drops, a blush taking over her cheeks.

"I never said I wasn't," she sticks her tongue out at him before smirking at his dumbfounded face. "Play a song, doofus." She shoves him playfully as he continues to grin, his thumb scrolling through the songs.

English Love Affair starts playing through the speakers and Aurora rolls her eyes behind her sunglasses. "I see what you did there," she laughs as he smirks over at her cheekily, his sadness hidden well, but Aurora knew it was still under the surface.

________

Oh tie up your boat, take off your coat, and take a look around

Everything is alright now

The door to the coffee shoppe chimes cheerfully the following day, making Aurora look up in curiosity. A smile tugs at her lips as she sees the familiar, lanky, blonde boy walk in but her eyes slightly widen as three other beautiful boys follow behind him.

"Holy mother of God," she mumbles to herself wide eyed as she sees Luke turn towards the piano and give her a smile and wave, making a beeline towards her with the boys in tow.

Gulping, Aurora tries to hide her shaking hands by sitting on them, nervously grinning as they come closer.

"Hey, Ro! These are my friends, Michael, Ashton, and Calum. I told them about your song and they really wanted to hear it." Aurora almost fell over as a pleasant nickname passed through his lips but what really made her vision blurry was the end of his sentence.

"O-Oh, that's so... that's so sweet, Luke. It isn't finished yet though," she frowns, biting her lip as he seems to deflate.

"Oh, well maybe next time then," he says sadly and the look on his face is enough for her to grab his hand as he starts to turn.

"Wait! I-I can show the parts I do have," she says, making his smile appear once again.

The boys all crowd around her, making her feel extremely nervous but with Luke's encouraging smile, she places her still shaking hands over the keys.

When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice

It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is

The struggle of staying above, the rising water line

She continues the song, trying to his cracking, nervous voice, until she no longer has any lyrics, trailing off with a quiet hum and shaky exhale. "That's all I've got so far," she looks up to see the four boys grinning at her widely.

"She's perfect, Luke," Calum says over to Luke proudly and Ashton nearly jumps up and down.

"Such a smart breadstick, you!" Ashton pats him hard on the back as Michael continues to smile but stay the calm one.

"I don't understand," Aurora nervously picks at her bottom lip as they continue to talk excitedly amongst themselves. That's when she realizes her music journal that was testing on the piano is in Ashton's hand and they are all flickering through the pages with excited grins.

"Um, excuse me," her eyebrows are now furrowed as they read her personal songs and words from her heart and Luke looks up as they hear the edge in her tone.

"Sorry, Ro," He yanks the journal out of their hands and places it back on the piano with an apologetic wince. "I think we owe an explanation." When she nods annoyed, he gulps and continues. "We are in a band called 5 Seconds of Summer."

"I know this... Plus, there's only four of you," she deadpans as Ashton snickers in the back.

"Anyway! We are in a band and we are looking for an opening act and someone to sign, but we didn't want anyone to mainstream or famous. We think you'd be perfect to open for us."

Aurora stares up at them in shock, her mouth becoming dry.

“So... what do you say?” Luke asks, his cheeks turning slightly red.

What should she say?

[datninjalyfe]

Not Without You, Chapter 1

Chapter 1: The Dream

The sound of a loud explosion echoed through the training room of U.A.  The students watched as an intense light detonated before them, igniting a fiery ball of yellows and oranges, billowing upwards into a large cloud of smoke that blocked their target.  A few screamed from the sound, covering their ears from the deafening sound and blocking their faces, awaiting the extreme and violent reaction that followed. The ground shook, breaking apart under their feet.  

Uraraka, despite the ringing in her ears, lifted her feet in the air, touching as many people as she could around her to lift them out of harm’s way.  She called out to Izuku, who had jumped into the air, levitating above the debris from the eruption.  He used black whip to catch a few students—Aoyama (who graciously thanked him by batting his eyelashes) and Mineta who was caught flying from the initial blast.  

“Shinsou, stop him!” Izuku yelled, but when Shinsou’s binds reappeared from the smoke, the ends were completely burned.  Shoto put up an ice wall to protect Mina, who had become slightly injured from the initial attack; Momo had made several grenades of her own, throwing them at the unseen, unmarked target.  The sounds of the grenades echoed across the training facility and for several seconds, it become completely silent.  Izuku landed his feet on the ground, looking into the large cloud of smoke with the rest of the class.  Concern itched across his face, but he didn’t move.  The classmates that Uraraka had lifted into the air were released, crashing down to the quaked floor.  

“Did—did I get him?” Momo said, panting with her gashed cheek beginning to bleed profusely.  

“Not quite.” growled a voice.  Katsuki Bakugou emerged from the smoke, his body completely untouched, completely unscathed by any of their counter attacks.  His clothes were rags that limply hung from his body.  In his hand, he held one of Momo’s grenades.  Looking shocked and angered she moved towards him, but he pulled the pin and crushed it before it discharged, but before it could do any real damage, he inhaled deeply the tiny pop through his fingers.  He slipped his hand into his pocket before smiling menacingly at his classmates.  

Aizawa emerged from the smoke as well.  “That,” he said in his monotoned voice, putting a hand on Katsuki’s shoulder. “—was an ultimate move.  Both offensive and defensive.  The rest of you could stand to learn something from that.  Good work, Bakugou.” He added under his breath, “You scary little shit.” but walked away as the smoke from the room cleared.  

“Damn, Bakugou!” Kirishima said, running up to his friend.  “That was awesome, you totally could have killed someone!”

Katsuki exhaled a hot breath.  His body was completely spent from that move—his quirk would need at least an hour or so to regenerate.  He shivered slightly, and Kirishima handed him his jacket that he had tied around his waist.  He covered himself, not used to the cold.  Still, he smiled: his hard work at his work study agency finally paid off.  

“It’s detrimental,” Katsuki was warned by his mentor.  “So be careful where and how you use it.”  

Katsuki studied incredibly hard, watched video after video of bombs, studying all of his notes on how they worked, even asking a few of the teachers countless questions to turn himself into one.  It finally paid off—in truth, he felt a little badly that some of his classmates had gotten hurt, but he had told them he was working on something, an ultimate move that would put him well-above the rest.  He watched Uraraka help Iida to his feet; he watched Tokoyami’s Dark Shadow discuss strategy with him; he watched Mineta try and sneak up on Hagakure and Jiro put him in place.  His eyes wandered around the room and shifted entirely when he saw a bit of green hair poke up from the rubble.  

Shit! he thought, No!  Don’t look! But it was too late.  Izuku’s hair was always a mess—the curls weaved themselves into a tight knot atop his head.  Izuku hopped up, Katsuki could see in his periphery that Izuku used a bit of float to leap himself up onto the platform.

Directly in front of Todoroki.

Anger flared inside of Katsuki.  He silently just watched from afar as Shoto’s arm had extended, touching a light scratch on Izuku’s forehead.  Katsuki was out of heat entirely after the training, but he could hear his heart pounding loudly in his ears as he watched Shoto’s mouth gently touch Izuku’s.

Fucking bastard, Katsuki thought, not sure who it was directed at, himself or Shoto.  The two pulled apart quickly and then chirped on about something Katsuki couldn’t hear.  Shoto looked in Katsuki’s direction like he could feel the intensity of Katsuki’s gaze in his periphery and smirked.  He wrapped an arm around Izuku and kissed his forehead again before lightly brushing his finger across Izuku’s nose and kissing him again.  

“If only I had killed him.” Katsuki whispered.  Kirishima gave him a knowing look and Katsuki was almost thankful to see Kaminari running up to both of them.  

“Way to go, man!” Kaminari forced Katsuki to avert his eyes.  “You looked like a real bomb, I thought you had blown yourself up, for sure!”

“That’s because you’re a moron.” Katsuki said.

“Get cleaned up, we’re doing Tokoyami’s ultimate move next.” Aizawa informed the class.  “Bakugou, sit this one out.” Katsuki opened his mouth to argue, but Aizawa just held up a hand and said, “I swear to God, if you say one fucking word, you’ll sleep outside.”

Katsuki shut his mouth, not sure if Aizawa fully had the authority to do so, but the short break gave him a moment for his quirk to return.  

And it also gave him an excuse to watch Izuku.  Uninterrupted.

Until his phone chimed. Another match?  he asked himself as he looked down at the notification: he’d downloaded quite a few dating apps, but really had no interest in pursuing another relationship after the failed attempt with Izuku a little over a year ago.  It didn’t matter really—most people knew these apps weren’t for dating.  Not that he’d want to date any of them.  Once he turned 18, there really was not stopping him. His taste varied from girl to girl (“Woah, you’re back to being a closeted gay?  Does it count as being closeted if everyone already knows?” “Shut the fuck up, Yoyo, just help me make a profile.  Aren’t you gays good at this sort of thing?” “You’re one of us, asshole!” *dodges attack from Katsuki* “ONE OF US! ONE OF US!”).

A pretty girl appeared on the screen: I T ’ S  A  M A T C H! Katsuki refreshed him memory of who she was, swiping through the pictures on his phone of her—a local girl who went to a college not far from where they were.  She had soft features and long hair that covered most of her face.  Her slim waist held an enormous rack, but he wouldn’t have matched with her because of that.  As he flipped through the pictures, he didn’t remember swiping right on her at all.

Until he got to the one picture where he could see her eyes.  They were a deep, forest color that stopped him in his tracks.  They were clearly contacts as he noticed her eyes in the other pictures were bluer.  But this picture—they were a bright, grassy earth tone.  

“Damn, she’s hot as fuck, where’d you find one like her?” Kaminari said, looking over his shoulder at his phone.  “Those can’t even be real!  What’s her name?”

“Don’t know.” Katsuki said, shooting her a quick message: Dtf?  “Don’t care.”

“You could at least act like being an adult is hard for you.” Kirishima said. “I’ve barely been an adult for a month and it honestly sucks ass—,”

A response from the girl: At least take me to dinner and a movie first! He rolled his eyes, but messaged her back with: Only if you wear those green contacts. He waited a few moments before he got a picture message.  The girl had one of her eyes closed, but the other wide-open and so perfectly green.  The contacts looked a little different in this lighting, not nearly as bright, but it would do.  Good enough for you?  He smirked and responded: it’ll do.

Kirishima and Kaminari exchanged looks before one of them told him, “Alright, man, I mean, as long as you’re staying out of trouble and you’re happy, then have fun I guess.”

Katsuki put his phone back in his pocket, ignoring his friends when Sero and Mina came over. Instead, he looked over at Shoto and Izuku.  Shoto’s arm was still wrapped around Izuku’s waist as Izuku punched the air and laughing in his little awkward way and Uraraka ran over to him, the two giving each other high fives and jumping in the air.  I’ll never be happy. Katsuki thought, a quick flashback crossed his mind—a clear image of Izuku looking out at a perfect beach sunrise.  His green, unkempt curls tousling in the wind, his freckles darkly splattered across his face.  As if in slow motion, Izuku’s body turned, showing Katsuki a smile that he would kill to see again.  

Now, over a year later, Izuku smiled for someone else.  

I’ll never be happy again.

---

Izuku crashed onto his mattress after the long day of combat training, completely spent.  Especially after that crazy attack from Kacchan—

NO! he warned himself.  It hurts, don’t think about it.  But it was hard not to admire the dedication of Katsuki to push his quirk like that.  It must’ve taken so long to learn it, let alone master it the way he had.  Katsuki was willing to go through all of it for the sake of pushing his quirk to the absolute limit.  

He was willing to go through so much for you, too.

After Izuku’s failed relationship with Katsuki, Izuku needed to take some time for himself.  He had thought about Katsuki often, even tried to see him outside of school hours just to talk, but Katsuki wanted nothing to do with him.  Frequently, the two would pass each other—Izuku could feel Katsuki’s heat of his quirk.  He’s still upset. He wanted to call out to him, to talk to him, but after several attempts to do so, he came to the realization that Katsuki had moved on from him.  He also left campus every Friday and rumor had it that he was meeting other people.  He tried to not listen to such things and focus on his current relationship, but his mind went back and forth until he finally rationalized the breakup: “I would have loved you had you been kinder, Kacchan.” Izuku knew he was intense, feeling things so deeply that at first Izuku mistook the intensity for passion—but the flame that held their relationship together didn’t hold for long enough.

“Dammit, stop!” he yelled into the pillow he placed over his face.  Izuku took his advice and to distract himself, he scrolled through his phone, rereading some of the more recent messages from Shoto.  It read things like: In a world full of darkness, you are my beacon of light.  It made Izuku smile at least, despite the text being as cliché as it was.  His relationship with the youngest in the Todoroki member was (using no other word for it) perfect.

Shoto was the ideal boyfriend.  He was insanely smart, extremely perceptive, not to mention incredibly handsome.  His body was slim, but toned, his muscles outlining his slender frame.  His duo-chromed eyes made Izuku weak at the knees, despite having an almost naturally nonchalant gaze to them.  He was gorgeous, split precisely down the middle.  The curtains also matched the drapes, which didn’t surprise Izuku too much, as his pubic hair was a deep green and tangled up like the madness that sat atop his head.  Shoto was sweet to him as they hardly ever argued.  And when the two did start exclusively dating, it didn’t take long for them to start exploring each other entirely.  They hadn’t had sex yet—Shoto said he wanted to at least wait until after graduation, which Izuku respected.  

The two spent the weekends together most of the time.  After seeing Shoto’s mother would head to his home, eat with his family and when they were alone, would kiss each other, touch each other a little, fooling around before falling asleep next to each other.  It was a routine and Izuku couldn’t help but feel that Shoto had penciled him into his mental schedule, sectioning off a piece of every Saturday for Izuku.  

Izuku’s eyes became heavy as he scrolled through more lyrical lines of clichéd poetry Shoto had sent him. Sleep pooled at his eyelids, dragging them down in slow blinks.  His breathing slowed, inhaling and exhaling deeply, soothing him with each rise and fall of his chest.  With each blink, he was entranced by a dream: arms lightly wrapped around him, soft breaths in his face and Izuku knew he was asleep too.  He…?  I’m alone.  There was a feeling of permanent warmth that surrounded Izuku.  His eyes would suddenly open and Izuku was alone, back in his room, but then doze off, back into his luxurious, comforted subconscious. Izuku was fully awake here, not feeling tired at all.  Strange…I know I’m dreaming…Izuku turned his body, and closed his eyes, kissing the forehead lightly of the man that held him.

“Hmmm?” a gentle response that echoed in Izuku’s thoughts.  It was a deep sound, but lazy and resonated through Izuku.  He couldn’t make out a voice, nor a real figure—just a shadow entity that encased around Izuku, overtaking his thoughts and feelings.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Izuku heard himself say, being fully submerged underneath a hard weight, not being able to tell if it was physically or mentally heavy.  

“Sure you didn’t.” the voice said, a tone of sarcasm.  There was a light kiss from the shadows in the dark room that Izuku was brought to. Lips plump and wet, like kissing a misty cloud.  Izuku raised his hands above his head.  Pin me down…Izuku thought loudly and suddenly, two hands pushed him into the bed, holding on to his wrists in a bind.  Izuku gasped.  Can….can I control this dream?  

“Oh, you like that, huh?” the words seemed to ring in Izuku’s head when the man said it, but the kissing didn’t stop.  Izuku opened his mouth, their tongues slipping along one another.  

“Mmmm…” Izuku groaned loudly, running his hands through his rough hair before sliding his hands down the sides of the body that lay above him.  This feels so real.  Izuku panted hot breaths.  His heart pounded hard against his ribcage.  The two fooled around, explicitly exploring each other’s bodies.  

“Tell me you want me—,” he heard a voice growl at him.  

Is that….?  No, it can’t be…

“Deku.”

Izuku’s eyes opened instantly, sitting up straight up in his bed.  Beads of sweat dripped down his face, his temperature rising substantially throughout his body.  He frantically searched for his phone and once he had calmed himself, he did a couple minutes of research until he came across the words “lucid dream.”  

It was the first time he’d thought about Katsuki—really thought about him—in months.  No, not him.  Izuku thought.  Not him.  Not now.  Not after all this time.  But he couldn’t shake it.  

I need to have that again.

(next)(all)

[jeon-googi]

Drive Thru

— pairing: Barista!Mark Lee x Reader

 — genre: Slice of Life, Fluff 

— words: 1.3k

— rating: SFW

— warnings: None~

— notes: I am just, really whipped for Mark Lee and while writing some longer fics, I just wanted to write something short and sweet. Hope you like it! 

-

-

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There's a Starbucks that's relatively close to your house

And it has a drive thru

So on days when College is getting you down, you typically just swing through for a quick latte.

You pull up to the first window and glance at the menu

A voice sounds through the speaker

“Dude stop, I’m laughing bro stop-oh uh- Hi welcome to Starbucks what can I get for you today?”

You raise an eyebrow at the exchange before relaying back your order

“Just one grande Vanilla latte please.”

“Okay okay cool yeah sorry about that my coworkers said something funny but um yeah that’ll be $4:50 at the window.”

You grin as you pull forward into the line, a little excited to see exactly who you were talking to.

Pulling up to the window, the sliding door swings open and

Wow

A grinning boy with blonde hair and round glasses greets you

“Hey um for all that craziness here's a cake pop on the house.”

You smiled and waved it off 

“No, it's totally fine, you're good.”

The barista shook his head 

“Please really I’m kind of new so thanks for putting up with me. “

You smiled and nodded in defeat

“Alright cool thanks Mark.”

Mark took a double back at you

“Whoa have we met? How do you know my name?”

Okay he was officially the cutest person on earth.

You grinned and tapped on your chest, the same area that Mark had his own name tag.

Mark furrowed his brows in confusion before glancing down, groaning

“Oh duh…”

The window slid shut as Mark finished putting your drink together, a visible pout on his face

It was definitely not the drive thru experience you were thinking would happen

But you weren’t complaining. 

Mark slid the window back open, passing you your drink with a grin

“Have a great day! Hope to see you soon!”

You took the drink into your hand and gave him a smile

“Thanks Mark.”

You drove out of the drive thru and glanced down at some scribbles on the front of your cup

In messy sharpie was a crudely drawn sun and smiley face

It was official

You were whipped for Mark from Starbucks.

You weren't able to go back until a few days later, and it was up in the air if Mark would be working or not. 

Pulling up to the window you smiled as you waited for the barista to speak

“Welcome to Starbucks what can I get started for you?”

Your smile faltered a bit, you had hoped a little it would be the goofy voice of Mark

But you smiled and proceeded to order

The intercom came through again but took you by surprise, “And a name for your order?”

Well, at least to your knowledge you didn’t typically give a name for a drive thru order, maybe it was some new routine?

“Y/N” you stated and the voice cleared you to pull forward. 

Pulling up to the window once again

A man with pushed back black hair opened the window

“Hey it’ll be $4:50.”

Jaehyun was his name.

You smiled and passed your card to him which he quickly returned and the window slid closed again.

Waiting for your drink you were still a little disappointed Mark wasn’t there

But then the window slid open again

“Y/n!”

You turned quickly and the sound of the voice and there he was

The cutest barista around

Grinning and holding your drink

“Mark?” You smiled

“Phew, good thing I caught you! Jaehyun told me you were in the drive thru!”

You leaned your arm on your car door, tilting your head inquisitively

“Oh really? Well I’m glad you caught me then.”

Mark cleared his throat as he coughed into his sleeve, the faintest red blush could be seen on his cheeks as he slid your drink towards you.

“Oh and here's this!”

He slid a pastry bag at you as well, sharpie drawings littering your bag like he had before.

“Mark really you don’t have to, you didn’t even mess up today!” you smiled at him, gratefully accepting the bag.

Mark shook his head as he waved you off, “I want to Y/n!”

Okay now it was your turn to be confused, “Hey how do you know my name? I didn't-”

A flashback of a few moments earlier came back

Jaehyun must have asked so he could tell Mark your name

“Oh that was pretty sneaky you guys” you laughed as Mark rubbed the back of his head sheepishly

“I wasn’t sure how else to get your name…”

“I would’ve told you Mark. Here my turn-”

You quickly found a napkin in your car and motioned your hand out to Mark

“Sharpie please?”

He quickly scrambled into the cup of pens by the register and tossed one back at you

You carefully wrote down your cell number and passed it back to him

“Text me sometime!” and you quickly left the drive thru

Really you don’t know what possessed you to be so bold but Mark really weighed on your mind for a few hours after your encounter,

Anytime your phone chimed you scrambled, hoping you wouldn’t recognize the number but it was usually just some notifications. 

Winding down for bed, you were getting comfortable under the sheets when your phone started to buzz.

Groaning you had half the mind to not answer, as you noticed how late it was, but you glanced at your screen

It was a number not saved to your phone

You quickly slid the call button and held the phone up to your ear

“Hello?” you answered wincing as a loud voice came through

“Y/N! I’M SORRY IT’S SO LATE BUT I DIDN’T FORGET TO TEXT YOU I JUST GOT SLAMMED AT WORK AND WANTED TO TELL YOU!”

You couldn’t help but smile as you imagined the frantic blonde on the other end of the phone

“It’s fine Mark but isn’t it kind of late? What time do you get off of work?” You asked, a bit concerned noticing it was well past 10pm.

“Well we still have to close, so it takes us a while...OH MY GOD Y/N IT’S SO LATE DID I WAKE YOU UP?”

You laughed out loud as you fell back onto your pillows, “It’s fine Mark..I’m glad I answered. I was thinking you weren't going to message me…” You admitted sheepishly.

“No way. I was begging Jaehyun to let me go to the back for a bit but I had to help on the drive thru so I didn’t get the time.” You could hear his smile through the phone and it made your heart flutter a bit. 

“Well, maybe we could meet up? Not in the Starbucks drive thru this time.” You offered, hugging your knees nervously.

“I’d be so down Y/n.”

And that's how you started dating Mark from Starbucks

To be honest you were surprised how fast you two clicked.

Your first date was at the movies, where somehow you spent the whole day hopping from film to film and ended with a fast food dinner in Mark's car.

You learned a lot about Mark from just that one evening like how he lived in an apartment with some of his best friends, Jaehyun included. 

Or how he actually loved playing guitar and writing lyrics, some of which could be found scribbled on the side of your Starbucks cups which he would later text you begging you to send him what he wrote

Some of your favorites included

I'ma ride with my ego 'cause my ego scream

Skrrt pull up in the coupe, beep-beep

Shorty give me whip-whiplash

All of which would cause Mark to blush intensely as he reads what he sends you while you spend the night at his apartment, trying to hide his face as you tease him

He would pout as the both of you would cuddle up on his bed, watching Bob's Burgers while drifting off to sleep together

But you loved him anyways

Even if he was such a goof.

[kate837]

Valium (Chapter two)

This chapter has a lot more angst than the last chapter but still has a decent amount of humor!

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

Kurt wakes up, from his three hour nap with Jane, really sore and not as well rested as he should be to have slept for three hours. To be honest, he hadn't slept well in...a very long time.

Kurt stealthily rolls out of bed, to not wake Jane, and walks out to the living room. He paces endlessly in a back and forth motion. Turning thoughts over and over in his mind.

It's wrong! You can't just go behind Jane's back, it's- it's unethical! Not to mention immoral!

But something is definitely wrong with her! I mean, what if she winds up hurting herself or...worse.

Kurt had had enough. He pulled out his phone and dialed Borden.

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

"Are you crazy?" Tasha heatedly asks.

"Yeah what the h*ll Patterson? We can't do that! Concerned or not it's a HUGE invasion of privacy!" Reade chimes in.

"But if you guys would just listen-" Patterson uncomfortably tries to but in.

"No! Because not only is it an invasion of privacy but it's i-ll-egal, I'm not taking part in an unnecessary risk. Necessary illegal things, yeah sign me up! No question. But this? Honestamente estas loca." Tasha's Spanish accent comes out as she argues.

"Mr brother was a drug addict!" Patterson explodes. " He went off the deep end a long time ago and I never talk about him. But everytime I get a call in the middle of the night I think, it's finally the call." Patterson's sterling blue eyes begin to water, so she takes a deep breath to continue. " I'm not crazy. I just- I don't want Jane to end up like him, okay?"

Reade, Tasha, and Nas, who has been eerily quiet throughout this conversation, look to each-other in agreement.

"Alright,I guess we're hacking into Borden's computer."

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

After thirty minutes, Kurt climbs back into Jane's bed to hopefully get some better sleep.

But just as he starts to doze off, he feels Jane beside him starting to squirm. She's mumbling nonsense and turning from side to side.

Oh God. She's having a nightmare.

Kurt gently pulls on her forearm in an attempt to wake her. But she violently jerks it away from him and escalates to yelling in her sleep.Kurt knowing that his heart can't take much more of this frantically kneels on top of her and grabs her forearms, trying to gently sit her up to maybe awaken her. It didn't work.

Then she started screaming.

Kurt's never heard her scream before. She was never frightened by gunfire or put in any position, in the field, that scared her. It was awful. The way all her core muscles contracted in order to gain energy to scream harder, and the way her voice cracked from the force of her screaming was sickening. Kurt started crying, while still kneeled over her.

"Jane please, just wake up, please!"

All of a sudden Jane's bedroom door bursts open.

It's her detail.

"Assistant Director Weller?" The first agent through the door asks.

Sh*t.

"Get out!"

"But she's-" The other agent started.

"I said get out!"

"Yeah okay." They hurriedly left.

Kurt could worry about them later. Jane was still...

"Jane wake up, it's a dream it can't hurt you. Just wake up okay? Just wake up."

Now Jane's screams had subsided and she was back to yelling. She was yelling about rings, a piece of rope, keys, and Valium, an- and- he couldn't have heard that last part right. She was yelling his name.

Kurt couldn't take it anymore. He ran to Jane's kitchen and got a cup of water. While hoping she wasn't dreaming about being waterboarded, he poured it on her.

It worked! She awoke with a start, sitting straight up eye to eye with Kurt. She was hyperventilating and wide eyed. Then she locked eyes with Kurt.

Did she remember how he got there?

He didn't need to ask as he saw her expression change. The understanding in her eyes very faint but there, almost but not quite masked by her lingering fear.

She basically jumped out of her bed and ran straight for the bathroom.

"Jane!" Kurt tried to follow, but she slams the door in his face. "Jane please we need to talk."

Her sobs muffled by the door, are still audible. Jane quickly turns on the shower and falls to the ground inside of it. She's still fully clothed, but in no state to care.

Once Kurt hears the shower he sits down with his back against the bathroom door and tries to dry his own eyes with the bottom of his shirt.

He listens closer and can still hear her sobs, through the door and the shower. He needs to get in there. Then Kurt suddenly realises, she didn't lock the door.

He quickly stands up, but very very slowly opens the door. Startling her right now was one of the worst ideas. Then he saw her. She was balled up against the back shower wall fully-ish clothed, from earlier, but soaking wet.

Kurt stepped into the spray of the shower also fully clothed but willingly getting drenched from head to toe, and sank to his knees. He tried to gather her in his arms, but she flinched away from his touch and scooted fully into the back corner of the shower. Kurt opted to sit with his back against the shower wall, watching the shower spray. Listening to her cry beside him. This was definitely one of the times he's felt his most helpless.

But then after a couple of moments pass Jane suddenly wraps her arms around Kurt's shoulders. The force and speed of it would have knocked him over if he had been standing. He quickly wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her as close as his wet, wrinkled clothes would allow. Jane maneuvered into Kurt's lap without releasing her grip, but instead of straddling him, she wrapped her legs around him mirroring her arms. While Kurt moved one hand to her middle back and the other to cradle the back of her head.

She continued to cry in his arms for a longer time than expected. But when her cries subsided she pushed, actually pushed, herself off of Kurt and stood.

"Get out." She said, her voice hard but simultaneously shaking.

"But Jane-"

"I said get out!" She screamed.

Now he's heard her scream at him in two new ways.

He stood up, and stepped past her to grab a towel, and left.

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

"It's useless he must handwrite all his notes." Patterson says frustratedly. She had been digging through Borden's computer files for a little over half an hour.

"Well I guess that's it then. Hey, maybe it's for the best right? So we won't lose the complete trust and respect from one of our teammates." Tasha inquires.

"Not necessarily." Patterson thinks out loud.

"Excuse me?"

"Hear me out, what if... Well, we/I could hack into the security cameras."

"What? The notes would have been bad enough but this- is just... I mean-" Reade attempts to step in.

"Also what would we gain from that? The feed wouldn't have audio, and we could barely read their lips because of camera angles. Honestly it just seems like we're reaching now. Back us up here Nas." Tasha tries to reason.

Nas starts to shift her weight from side to side.

"Nas come on. You're supposed to be the level headed one, right?" Tasha tries again.

Nas clears her throat. "We would get more than we think."

"What the h*ll are you talking about?" Reade questions.

"When I first came I- I planted a bug in Borden's office."

"You what?!" Tasha and Reade scream in unison.

Patterson looks down without reacting.

"And you knew?!" Tasha points at Patterson.

"I ran a bug check in Borden's office and found it. I disabled it immediately, and gave it to Weller."

Tasha nods.

"But right now we nee to focus. Yes I planted a bug and maybe that wasn't right bu-"

"Maybe?!" Tasha scoffs.

"But since I did." Nas continues. "I have all of Jane's sessions archived onto my personal phone. If we line up the security feed with my audio then we could essentially have a front row seat to any and all conversations of importance within that office."

A silence feel upon the group. It was a good plan. But could they really be in board with this?

"That's why you were so quiet when we were discussing the ethical injustices of looking through Borden's computer. Do you have any boundaries? I mean my God woman!" Tasha spat.

"I'm NSA, my whole job is to-"

"Your whole job IS NOT to spy on your team members so don't even."

"Look, I needed to know where Jane's head was at, at all times. I didn't even listen to you guys."

"Yes because that makes it so much better." Reade adds.

"Look we need to come to an agreement. I don't like it either. But Jane is our friend and she needs our help. So we need to decide right now how far we're willing to gi to help her." Patterson mediates.

Another silence.

Tasha sighs. "I'll go get the popcorn."

"This isn't a movie, this is a MASSIVE invasion of privacy " Reade says, obviously irritated with this whole ordeal.

"A massive invasion of privacy that I'm staying overtime to watch instead of going to get dinner, so popcorn is the only alternative." Tasha says over her shoulder as she heads for the break room.

When Tasha returns with popcorn, she sees that the screens have been manipulated to play the feed. Patterson grabs a piece of popcorn.

"Okay, now that everyone's here we can get this over with. Nas, we need to hit the buttons of the feed and the audio at the same time."

"Yes ma'am."

"There's no going back." Reade warns looking Patterson straight in the eye.

"I know,but it's the only way." Patterson inhales deeply. "On three. One. Two. Three."

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

Jane "actually" showered for an additional thirty minutes before coming out. She halfway expected to see Kurt sitting on the edge of her bed, but he wasn't. So she put on her favorite white, mid thigh high, robe and walked out towards the living room.

Kurt was sitting on the couch wrapped in a towel. Slightly shivering.

"You can get in the shower now." Jane offered.

Kurt looked up at her and raised his eyebrows.

"Then we can talk. I promise." She must have read his mind.

With that, Kurt went to the shower. In total he took about 20 minutes, he had to wash up with a lavender and honey scented body wash but some sacrifices had to be made. Once he turned the faucet off he realised that he didn't have an extra pair of clothes. That's when he heard a knock on the door.

"Can I come in?" Jane asked softly.

Instead of verbally answering, Kurt wrapped a fresh towel around his waist and opened the door.

Jane handed him his fresh clothing. At Kurt's stunned look she explained.

"I snuck in earlier and dried them."

Kurt smiled widely, causing her to blush.

"Thank you."

"I'll be on the couch when you're ready."

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

Kurt walked out to the living room and true to her word, there she was. On the couch, her hair dripping onto the cushions.

"Hey." He approached.

"Hey."

He sat on the opposite end of the couch but turned towards her, which made him seem closer. Jane shifted uncomfortably in her seat, so Kurt started.

"I talked to your detail. I think they got the wrong idea." Kurt flushes thinking about the awfully awkward exchange.

--------------Earlier-------------

Kurt walked out in his soaking wet clothes in 40° weather, freezing, to the black government issued sedan parked across the street from Jane's safehouse. As he approached the older agent occupying the driver's seat rolled down his window.

"Assistant Director Weller." He greets.

"Hey guys." Kurt greets, much more casually."Thank you for checking on Jane, but I've got it."

"Oh he definitely got it." The younger agent in the passenger seat snickers under his breath.

"Ok well before I go back inside,I have to ask. Why didn't you guys come in sooner?"

"We came in as soon as we heard the screaming sir."

"No I mean when she was throwing plates at me."

"When she what?!"

"Okay maybe he didn't get it." He remarks again.

"Sir we're parked across the street, even with the of thinnest walls it would take a while before we could hear any crashing noises." The older agent explains.

"That makes sense. Okay well goodnight."

"Wait! So should we leave?"

"Yeah take the night off."

"Thank you sir. You enjoy getting your night off too!"

Before Kurt could respond the agents rolled up their windows and sped off.

--------------Present-------------

"Oh God!" Jane laughs.

"It was awful!" Kurt laughs with her.

"You just had to bring up the plate thing didn't you?"

"Oh yeah, I'm traumatized. I can't even look at a plate now!"

Jane laughs harder. But their laughter soon dies out from the tension in the air. They needed to talk.

"Jane. Your night...terrors. How long have they been going on?"

"About four months." Jane refuses to look at him.

"Is that why you take the Valium?"

There was a long silence.

"Yes."

"Okay. But Jane there's still something off here. If you've been taking Valium for so long how come it's never effected you like this before?"

Jane starts to fiddle with her robe string, and Kurt gulps.

Focus Kurt!

"You want to know the truth?" Jane suddenly looked him square in the eye with her jaw clenched.

"Please."

"I took three times my prescription."

"You what?! Why would yo-"

"Why? What do you mean why? You saw what happened in there, and that was after three doses! I am so-tired-Kurt."

"You could have killed yourself!"

"I didn't care! It was early in the morning and I had slept for maybe eight hour collectively in the last four days! I was done. Wether I fell asleep or overdosed, either way I needed rest.

He couldn't comprehend what just came out of her mouth.

She can't be serious.

He decided to change the subject.

"So what do you dream about?"

"No."

"Excuse me?"

"Ask me something else."

"No Jane we need to discu-"

"We don't need to discuss anything!"

Jane got off the couch and started to walk towards her bedroom.

"You said my name, Jane!"

She stopped in her tracks.

"When you were screaming. You were saying all kinds of things, it sounded like nonsense, but I just couldn't figure out the significance until now. You said something about rings, our rings from our undercover mission. You said keys, which I can't figure out yet. Rope, for the homemade mace you made to escape the blacksite. You said Valium, which is obvious. But then you said my name... Why?"

Jane finally turned around. "Why?"

She walked towards Kurt at lightening speed ready to argue, but then... Her demeanor changed all together. It's like she exhaled all of her pent up anger. Then she began to speak. "I relive two moments every single night Kurt. The night that you arrested me, right here in this room. And the day you said that you "don't even want to be in the same room" with me. Don't you understand what you did to me?" Jane was talking right below him, they were close.

"I didn't mean that."

Jane steps back.

"Yes. You. Did!"

"Well I don't anymore and you know that!" He steps closer to her.

Jane scoffs.

"What does that change Kurt? I'm still on Valium, I'm still killing myself in the gym because maybe if I physically exhaust myself enough I can actually sleep! But you didn't mean it, so that somehow all goes away right?" She was yelling and furious, but her yells were somewhat soft. Their closeness made it hard to want to yell.

"You know what I meant just now, Jane."

"I dream about you more than the blacksite Kurt!" She said looking him straight in the eyes. "It's you that torments me in my sleep! All of my thoughts in my waking life have an under-toned voice behind it saying "On your knees, hands on your head." I can't sleep, I can't eat, I sure as h*ll can't focus! It's you Kurt! You- you broke me.

Something broke inside of Kurt with her last words. He felt a physical pang in his heart.

Jane turns on her heel, and covers her face to try to hide her crying. She escapes to her room leaving Kurt paralyzed in her living room.

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

"Okay guys session 4 is up and running! Also we have eaten six bags of popcorn but haven't thought of just ordering something." Patterson says while fiddling with some cords.

"Doesn't matter, I like popcorn more than "real" food anyways." Tasha remarks.

"Hey! Popcorn totally counts as real food!" Nas jokes, finally giving in to the team banter.

"Literally how are you guys in shape?" Reade jokingly questions.

Patterson hits the start button on Jane's fourth session after her return. She didn't say much of anything for the first twenty minutes, so they voted to skip until something interesting- INFORMATIONAL, because this is not at all enjoyable, happens.

"Hey wait their talking, Nas fast forward the audio to 45:30 please." Patterson delegates.

"Yes ma'am. " Nas says jokingly.

Tasha turns the volume up.

"Jane it is normal to feel...lost when you disconnect from someone you loved."

"I didn't love him." Jane says harshly. They had forgotten how different Jane had been when she first came back.

"Maybe you did."

"I- I mean mayb- wait how is this supposed to be helping?"

"Jane we can only deal with our emotions if we identify them."

Nas, Tasha, Reade, and Patterson collectively lean forward in their chairs. This was what they were waiting for.

#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:##:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:#:

Jane quietly returned to the living room with a pair of white sneakers on.

"Where are you going?"

She walks past Kurt without saying a word and straight into the kitchen, to grab a drink. Once he hears thw crunch of glass under her sneakers he realised why she had to put them on. He had meant to clean all the broken glass earlier, but got reasonably distracted with the "Jeller sleepover".

"I was gonna clean that up." Kurt says, a safe distance away from the glass.

Jane still didn't talk. She reached in her cupboard for a glass, good thing she didn't break any cups. Then proceeded to grab red wine out of her other cabinet.

You shouldn't be drinking while you're on Valium, Jane."

"Don't care." Jane says as she completely overfills her glass.

Sensing her resentment towards him Kurt asks. "Should I leave? You said that I torment you, and it seems as though I'm some sort of trigger for you, so should I go?"

Jane twirls gorgeous the dark red substance in her cup a couple of times them downs the entire glass before answering.

"No. Sleep on the couch."

Jane sidesteps him to walk towards her room once again. And again she returns within seconds. She hands Kurt a spare comforter, but doesn't look at him. He silently takes it.

Jane grabs her wine glass and bottle, pouring herself another overly full glass as she continues down the hall. This time once she enters her bedroom, she doesn't come out.

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

Kurt had been lying on Jane's couch, replaying the eventful day he had for a little over an hour when he got a text from Patterson.

"Watch this."

The message was brief. Too brief.

Kurt instantly clicked on the attachment. Once it opened he was shocked. It seemed to be security camera footage. From- from one of Jane's therapy sessions? It had to be a relatively close to when Jane first returned because she hadn't cut her hair yet in the video.

What the h*ll is going on?

He pressed play.

"Maybe I did love him." Jane blurts.

Kurt's eyes widen.

Jane raises her voice, but it cracks as tears start to fall. "Then what he-h-he arrests me, and is essentially responsible for my three months in h*ll and what?! I still love him? Why? I mean that's the only reason his words can still hurt me like this right?"

"Exactly." Borden leans forward in his chair, like he does whenever he engages in an interesting conversation with a patient. " But the question is Jane, do you want to actively try to fall out of love with Kurt so you can start this healing process or hope that he will find his way to loving you back which could stall and potentially destroy any chance at a healing process I can provide?"

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[sadienita]

As Sure As Fate - Part 4

Han Dong x Female Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Genre: Fluff, Angst, Riencanration

Contents: Implied Character Death

Notes: Okay I- uh- @flyingsculptures I’m so sorry this was meant to be a b i r t h d a y g i f t and this part got S A D. It’s I mean it’s also hands down my fav part (and mayhaps I was asking you about favourite parts of history for a reason uwu) but also the ending is sad and I’m S O R R Y I made myself cry while editing it oh god I hope you like it even though it might rip your heart out but there’s also so many cute moments and also the last part is happy I p r o m i s e.

1910 - Kansas City, USA

The fourth time I met you, I was blessed to have so much more of a lifetime with you. More than ever before we were drawn together, tied closely by fate. I knew from the beginning you were someone special.

You didn’t listen closely to what your mom was saying, instead taking in the girl in front of you, the same age as you. Her clothes were grass stained and her hair was messy and she had dirt smudged on her cheek and you thought she had to be the coolest girl in the whole wide world.

“I’m Hannie,” she chimed, shaking your hand the way grown ups did, a bright smile on her face.

You grinned, grasping her hand and telling her your name. She giggled and started to pull you towards the door. You heard your mom screeching after you not to get your dress dirty but you didn’t care too much about that as you raced into the yard with your new neighbor.

“We’re going to be the best of friends! I can tell!”

To grow together, like two trees planted too close, we entwined with each other.

“Hannie, are you sure about this?” you cried, gazing up at where she sat at the top of the hill.

“It’ll be fine!” she said brightly, pulling down her old goggles.

“Be careful!” you shouted. Nerves curled in your stomach as she steadied her makeshift cart at the top of the hill. You thought Hannie was too brave for her own good. She had been since the day you met her. Your mom didn’t like that she made you more reckless and that you messed up your clothes so much but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t think of anyone else you’d want to spend your summer days with.

Even if she worried you at moments like this.

Hannie used the stick in her hand to push off and let out a screech as she flew down the hill very quickly. You clasped your hands together as you watched her, thrilled and frightened all at once.

Her cart shook and as she hit a bump at the bottom of the hill the wheel flew off and Hannie let out a scream as she flew out of the cart and landed in the grass. You let out a gasp as you ran to her. Hannie lay sprawled out on the grass, letting out a groan and a hand finding her head.

“Are you okay?! Hannie, are you okay!?”

She let out another groan, squeezing her eyes shut.

You fussed over her, wiping dirt off her clothes and finding the cut on her knee, bleeding.

“I told you it was dangerous,” you whined, pressing the underpart of your skirt against her knee to stop the bleeding. “You need to be more careful. One of these days you might-”

You cut off as Hannie gripped your wrist. When you looked at her she was giving you a weak smile and it made butterflies flutter in your stomach in a way you were sure you’d never felt before and yet felt so familiar.

“I don’t need to be careful with you around,” she laughed. “You’ll always make sure I’m okay.”

“I-I-” you softened a bit. “Just- don’t do anything too crazy, okay?”

She squeezed your wrist.

“Okay.”

Our roots were tangled around each other far more than we realized. And as we grew towards the sky, we were side by side.

There was something very comforting about having Hannie’s hand in yours. Something about her eased your mind, it calmed you. The world felt like it was in turmoil, like everything had spun out of control in the last five years. You could barely make sense of any of it, barely wrap your head around the lives lost to war and then to the flu.

The night wind blew through your hair and rustled the leaves of the nearby trees. The sky above spanned on forever and was littered with stars, twinkling down at you as if nothing had ever been turned upside down.

Your head fell to the side and you took in the sight of Hannie, the feeling in your chest all too familiar now. Her pretty features were lit in moonlight as she gazed up at the sky, wonder and anticipation in her eyes as she took in what was so far away from you. Her dreams were so lofty, though her spirits had been dampened by the war. You had both grown up too much.

“When you look up at the sky,” she mused. “Do you ever just want to reach out and touch it?”

You spared a glance at the stars. “Wouldn’t that take me too far away?”

She tilted her head to look at you, something unreadable in her eyes. “From here? Is there that much here for you?”

“There’s you,” you didn’t think about the words before you said them, and they hung in the warm night air between you. Hannie’s eyes stayed on you and you felt nerves claw at your stomach, wishing to suck the words back inside.

“You don’t wanna leave just because of me?”

You rolled onto your side, heart slipping into your stomach. “Well, you’re my best friend after all. Why would I want to go anywhere without you?” Why was your heart pounding?

A grin tugged at Hannie’s lips. “Who said I wouldn’t come with you?”

You couldn’t seem to find the words as she rolled onto her side to face you. “You know I wanna fly one day? I wanna be a pilot, soaring through the air.”

“Hannie-” you whined but she hushed you with a finger pressed to your lips. 

“But,” she said. “No matter how high I go, I’m always going to come back down to you. You know that right?”

You couldn’t seem to find any words, only nodding as you desperately wished your heart would stop beating so loud. Surely she could hear it. She squeezed your hand and smiled more widly at you, a giggle escaping her lips.

“I don’t think I want to be away from you for too long anyway,” she said. “I like you too much.”

“I like you, too,” you whispered.

Did she mean it the same way you did?

Together we weathered storms. The wind howling, rain pelting against us. But with a strong enough foundation we were never uprooted. And we only entwined closer with each other.

“Don’t you hate this?” Hannie grumbled as you cleaned out the horses stalls.

“We all have help out, Hannie,” you sighed. “Besides, you hate housework.”

“No, I mean,” she put her shovel down. “Don’t you want to move to the city? It’s so much brighter. They’re more forward thinking there, you know.”

“I know,” you sighed. “But life out here isn’t so bad.” You always got nervous when Hannie talked about leaving. She did it more and more these days. You knew she had dreams and you desperately wanted to go with her, to be by her side as she chased after them, to keep her hand in yours. As you got older though, there was all the more pressure to marry, all the more pressure to grow up even more and you worried that her ideas were too fanciful, not to mention her parents hated the idea of her in an airplane.

You weren’t too keen on it either.

“There’s a flying school in the city,” she said quietly.

“Hannie, are you really gonna leave one day?” you wanted to believe she would never leave you behind, but something deep inside made you nervous that she might.

“I have to,” she said. “I can’t live like this forever. This isn’t the life I want.”

You chewed on your lip as you mulled over her words. “What will become of us?”

“Come with me,” her answer was swift and you met her excitement with bewilderment.

“Hannie!” you chided. “We can’t just leave!”

“We can do what we want,” she retorted. “We’re all grown up. And we can give them time to hire farmhands. But we could have our own lives!”

“Do you really think it could work?” you asked nervously.

“With you by my side, I reckon anything is possible,” she smiled.

Like the roots of a tree, our hearts had grown closer than either of us thought to admit. But no matter how bold you could be, some things were difficult to say.

You pressed the envelope closed, a smile playing on your lips. You made more in the city than you had helping out around the farm, and it felt good to send a little bit home, to help out. You thought being far away from your family would be difficult, yet you never really felt like you were far away from home. You felt more comfortable with Hannie than you ever had living at home.

Still, after all these years, she comforted you. She made you happy and filled you with feelings you couldn’t name.

Or perhaps they just scared you.

The door burst open and you jumped, breaking out of your mind’s meanderings. Hannie had a bright smile on her face and she was panting slightly, her hair a mess as she held a paper tightly in her hand.

“I got in!”

It took a moment for your mind to catch up but as it settled in that she had been accepted to flying school a smile spread across your face. Her excitement was infectious and her giggles spread to you as she raced towards you and into a tight hug, squeezing you and squealing from delight in a way that made your heart soar.

She pulled back too quickly and her hands found the sides of your face. Your brain had no time to react before her lips crashed against yours.

Your heart felt like it was exploding as you gripped the front of her shirt. Your brain seemed to short circuit as your head spun and all you could do was hold onto her for dear life until she pulled back to look at you.

Her face was flushed red and her chest was heaving. You let go of each other at the same time as the reality started to settle in and you felt heat burning at your own cheeks, your brain unable to form any sort of thought in response, unable to say what you really wanted to say to her.

“I-I need to-”

“Yes, I have to-”

“I-m going to-”

“Y-Yes me too!”

Words stumbled out of both of you as you grabbed your things and made for the door to mail your letters while Hannie made for her room.

Some things were still left unsaid, hanging around us like fireflies on an early summer evening. They blinked in and out of sight but remained. The words nearly left your lips on breaths so many times, always stuck to your tongue.

You heard your name being called excitedly and you put down your knitting as Hannie rushed into your room.

“Did you see the news?!”

“About?” you chuckled.

“Earhart, of course!” You shook your head and Hannie gasped, dropping down into the chair next to you. “She just flew across the atlantic!”

“Wait, really?!” you grabbed the paper from her and hurriedly read the story, a gasp leaving your lips. 

“She’s really out there setting records, flying around the world,” Hannie sighed. “Isn’t that just the most amazing thing you’ve ever heard. What can’t a woman do these days?!”

“It’s so impressive,” you hummed. “You know they’re gonna have to put your name in the papers like that one day.”

She gave you a bright smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Gosh I hope so! I want to do something amazing. Being in the sky is just… It’s one of the best feelings there is.”

“Not the best?” you asked. “I have half a mind to think flying is your true love.”

“There are things better than flying,” her voice was much softer as she spoke, much shier.

You softened your voice to match hers, sincerity seeping into your tone. “What’s better than flying?”

“Oh gosh, we should start dinner shouldn’t we?” Hannie jumped up from her seat and you watched her rush into the kitchen, wondering if you would ever say the words that were stuck to your tongue.

So much time. So many more precious seconds with each other. But what was our destiny?

You squeezed Hannie’s fingers in yours as you sat on the train with her.

“Are you excited or nervous?” you asked her quietly.

“Both,” she stated, though sounding more of the latter.

“You know you’ll do great though. I think you’ve talked me through your plan about a thousand times.”

Your words made Hannie giggle and you were grateful for that. She had been preparing for months now for a solo flight to the tip of South America and back, over the gulf and the Caribbean islands. You would be beyond terrified so the fact that she was only a little nervous a few days before the flight was a testament to her bravery and willpower.

“You’re right,” she said. “I know you’re right.”

“Hannie,” you turned to her when her eyes met yours, you could see the fear deep inside her. You grasped her other hand and squeezed them both tight. “You’re going to be amazing. If anyone can do this, it’s you.”

“You think so?”

You grinned. “I know so.”

Was it always to split apart?

It was something else entirely to see Hannie all dressed up in her pilot gear. Her face was steeled as she went over things and checked the airplane and you stood a bit away from her on the runway. This was one adventure you would have to watch from afar. It killed you to know she would be so far, doing something so dangerous, but there was a fire in her eyes that you knew burned so deeply.

This was freeing and exciting. This was her dream. You reminded yourself that when she got home you could celebrate, you would see her name in the papers. You believed in her so deeply and if nothing else, that eased your mind. If anyone could do this, it was Hannie.

There was a thought that made your heart melt, that she had listed you as family. You were staying close to her take off place for the planned four days of her journey, though perhaps six if things went poorly. You stuffed your hand into your jacket pocket and your fingers brushed against cool metal.

An “oh” fell off your lips as you wrapped your fingers around it and raced towards Hannie, not heeding any warnings called out at you. She looked up at you bewildered as you flew towards her, face flushing red and catching you as you made it to her, panting.

“What on earth-”

“I almost forgot!” you wheezed, pulling the locket from your pocket. “So you can keep me with you, even in the air.”

Hannie took to locket gently, eyes welling with tears as she smoothed her thumb over the jewelry. She had no words when she looked at you, unable to form her thoughts she threw her arms around you in a tight hug which you returned, burying your face against her.

“I love you,” the words were so quiet you almost missed them but they made your heart leap, ringing in your head and playing on repeat as you hugged her tighter, very sure what she meant by them.

“I love you, too.”

To lose each other?

Today was the final day of her journey. Each one made you more nervous and more excited. You desperately wanted her back by your side and you missed her dearly. Something about this morning, though, had made you lethargic. You were slow to get out of bed and you felt chilled as you prepared yourself.

You reminded yourself it was fine to be nervous about today, it was the longest stretch of time she would be in the air and it was the last day. You should be more excited, more optimistic, but as you headed out to get updates and prepare for her landing something felt cold, something chilled you in a way you couldn’t explain.

Contrary to your worries though, everything was running smoothly when you arrived. They informed you she had just shown up on the radar and she would be getting within radio distance very soon. You sat as patiently as you could, fingers trembling as you tried to knit and distract yourself, sparing worried glances at the clouds outside.

“...do…h... me...ver” the radio crackled to life and all heads in the room snapped towards it. “D… you he… me, over.”

You jumped to your feet, unsure what you were going to do as they rushed to communicate with her.

“This is district 7. Do you copy? Over.”

“I co...ver,” the way her voice broke up had your stomach twisting into knots. “My visibility...bad, over.”

“Keep your course steady. Do you copy? Over.”

“I… py. Over.”

You wanted to yell to her to be careful, you were filled with more and more dread in every moment but you knew distracting her wouldn’t help. She was almost home and you should relax. As they started to speak more technically you sat back down, fingers shaking too much to knit. You gazed out at the overcast sky, growing darker and darker even in the afternoon.

The moments seemed to tick by, dragging on very slowly in a torturous crawl. You just wanted her to be home, to be safe. She passed landmarks and you listened anxiously as the hours very slowly slipped past.

“You’re drifting off course, over.” The words caught your attention and you looked up to where the men stood around the controls.

“I’m on track, over.”

He tutted. “You’re drifting east, you need to turn due northwest, over.”

“My instruments say I’m on track, over.” There was a pause. “Dammit.”

“Han, are you okay? Over.”

“Something’s not… over.”

Your chest felt tight as you gripped the skirt of your dress in your hands. 

“Han, what’s wrong? Over.” The room had grown tense as everyone listened for her answers.

“I… get… ...It’s no… dam…”

The radio went dead.

The room jumped into activity. Two of the workers grabbed you and ushered you out of the room as you struggled against them, straining to hear the last few things they said before the door swung shut.

“She’s still veering off course.”

“She won’t make it if she keeps going that way.” 

“Radio for a crew to be sent out.”

The door swung shut as they dragged you down the hall.

To wonder “is this the last time?”

The sun sunk lower in the sky as you clasped your hands together, hoping and praying for a miracle. You had gotten no news about the planes sent out to find her, but you knew she wasn’t back yet. You were listening for the roar of her engines and yet, nothing.

That cold feeling was seeping into you more and more by the minute. Could you really lose her now? Could she really, now, in this hour, be ripped away from you?

This hurt too much. It felt like losing everything, like you had lost her before somehow. You didn’t know how but this felt dreadfully familiar and that gave you no comfort as you wrapped yourself in closer, shivering.

An icy feeling rushed through you and you gasped as pain hit your chest. Tears filling your eyes as your knuckles gripped your shawl. You shook horribly until the feeling settled in the pit of your stomach and you broke down into sobs.

They would never find her, you knew it plain as day.

And you never got to say goodbye.

How many times did I need to lose you before I could finally be with you?