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specialagentsergio · 3 years ago

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rationalizations

rationalizations: a defense mechanism in which one makes up a false but reassuring explanation to explain their behavior and/or feelings to both themselves and others, thus avoiding the reality of why they are really acting or feeling as they do.

summary: You’re the psych evaluation for Spencer. You think he’s full of shit, so you refuse to sign his clearance form until he actually tells the truth.

pairing: spencer reid x f!reader

category: angst (happy ending)

content warnings: spencer’s canonical trauma, flashbacks, mentions of suicide and suicidal ideation, swearing

a/n: i wrote this for @imagining-in-the-margins‘ enemies to lovers event. it’s not my favorite trope, but one of the prompts sparked inspiration for me. i also took a good amount of inspiration from meredith’s various therapy scenes in grey’s anatomy, so if some of it feels familiar, that’s why! i swear i intended to make this cute and funny, but, well… here we are lmao.

word count: 3.6k

masterlist

Spencer throws his bag onto his desk with a frustrated huff. It thumps loudly, startling JJ at her desk across from his. She gives him a sympathetic look regardless. “Still not cleared yet?”

“No!” Forgetting that it’s wheeled, he drops himself into his chair. It skids backwards and he has to scramble to grab something to keep from falling out of it.

“Careful there,” JJ says, trying valiantly to suppress a laugh. “That psychologist's got you really worked up, huh?”

“I don’t know what she wants from me!” he complains. “It’s been nearly a month! Hotch’s ex-wife was murdered by an unsub, but they cleared him. I was only shot in the neck.”

“I mean, that’s still kind of a big deal,” she says. “You could’ve died, from the gunshot, or from the nurse that tried to kill you afterwards.”

“Speaking of that nurse,” he starts, “Garcia is the one who shot him and she’s been a wreck over it. She insisted on going to the guy’s execution. But the therapist cleared her!”

“Penelope’s not in the field,” JJ points out.

He crosses his arms. “Still. This isn’t the first time I’ve been shot. That possibility is part of the job. It’s not like it came out of nowhere and I was completely unprepared for it.”

“I don’t know what to tell you, Spence,” she says. “Just keep all of your appointments and I’m sure you’ll be cleared soon.”

He pulls a stack of papers on his desk towards him. Paperwork—one of the things he’s actually allowed to do. “I better be,” he mutters.

---

“And it was really scary, you know?” Spencer wipes at his eyes with a tissue. “Not knowing if I was going to live or die.”

“Mm-hmm.”

He takes a deep breath. “But… it’s over now. The preacher who shot me died in the same shootout. Owen McGregor, the leader of the corrupt deputies, died later that night, in another shootout. And Greg Baylor, the one who posed as a nurse and tried to kill me, was sentenced to death row and he’s gone now, too.”

His psychologist makes a note on the paper in front of her, but doesn’t say anything, so he continues.

“I… I feel better now, just letting that out.” He takes a new tissue and dries his nose. “I feel ready now. Ready to go back to work.”

She nods slowly, considering him. But she doesn’t even look towards her desk where the clearance form sits, frustrating him to no end. After five minutes of silence, he breaks.

“You can’t be serious.”

She raises an eyebrow. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’ve been coming to these sessions for over a month, and I’m still not cleared to be in the field. I…” He musters up more tears and makes sure his voice wavers during his next words. “I just don’t know what you want? I’ve tried everything.”

“No, you haven’t,” she says plainly.

He blinks in surprise, sending some of the crocodile tears down his cheeks. “What?”

She crosses her legs. “You’re full of shit.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re not being honest with me, and I don’t think you’re being honest with yourself either,” she says. “You’re a great actor. I can see how you’ve gotten clearances easily before. But that stops with me.”

Spencer stares at her. “I don’t understand.”

She moves her notebook to the side. “What happened in Texas isn’t the first time your life’s been in danger. Why do you think that is?”

“Wh—that’s part of my job,” he argues, fake crying long since forgotten.

“Not to the extent that you take it. I’ve read your file,” she says. “You take unnecessary risks with regularity.”

The tissues crumple in his hand as he clenches it. “I do not.”

“Let’s go back to the beginning.”

“The beginning of what?”

“Of your career.” Yet she doesn’t take out his file, or look at her notes. She speaks from memory. “2005. The BAU is assisting with a hostage situation. You go into the train, posing as someone who is there to remove a microchip from the unsub, but the first thing you do? You take off your bulletproof vest.”

“Okay, clearly you don’t understand what the situation was,” Spencer cuts in. “Ted Bryar was suffering from a psychotic break. He was somewhat unpredictable, and he told me to take off the vest.”

“And you just listened?”

“He—he had a gun, and was threatening both me and the other passengers with it!” he says. “What was I supposed to do, not listen?”

“Uh, yeah,” she replies. “You easily played into his delusions just a few minutes later to distract him. Why not do that to keep yourself safe?”

“I was twenty-four and was running on adrenaline,” he says defensively. “And it was my first time doing something like that. You can’t expect me to think of everything.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” she agrees. “So let’s jump forward a few years. How about the time you approached a teenager who was wielding an assault rifle with no protection, not even your own firearm?” she challenges.

“You mean Owen Savage? That was a unique situation,” he protests. “I knew I could talk him down.”

“No, you didn’t. You thought you had a good chance, but there’s no way to be one hundred percent sure of that. He was volatile, and on a killing spree,” she counters. “You didn’t know if you’d succeed--”

“I did!” He startles himself by unconsciously raising his voice, but he doesn’t apologize. “I did, because….”

“Because you related to him,” she fills in. “And that’s fine. Having empathy for an unsub doesn’t suggest something’s wrong in and of itself. But you still put yourself, and the rest of your team, in danger, didn’t you?”

He crosses his arms. “I got that lecture from Hotch when it happened, okay?”

“So then why’d you confront an unsub alone a few years later in Miami?” she asks. “You didn’t even tell anyone where you were going. You left your vest behind and just ran off.”

“I was having a head—wait, how do you even know that happened?” he questions. “It wasn’t in the report.”

“Well, first of all, you just confirmed it,” she points out, and he wants to kick himself. “Secondly, I can read between the lines.”

“I was having a headache,” he repeats. “I wasn’t thinking all that clearly. I just knew Julio’s life was in immediate danger, so I went to help him.”

“Uh-huh. More recently,” she says, brushing past his excuse, “You confronted your girlfriend’s stalker without your vest or gun.”

Spencer’s getting angry now. “I was trying to save Maeve. She asked me to leave them behind.”

“And you simply listened. Do you see the pattern I’m drawing here, Dr. Reid?” she asks. “These are just a few of the instances that stand out. Time and time again, you put yourself in unnecessary danger. So I’ll ask you again. Why do you think that is?”

Spencer looks over her—really looks over her, trying to understand what she’s getting at. “Are… are you suggesting that I’m suicidal?” he asks quietly.

She looks him straight in the eye. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

It’s like she set off a bomb in his brain. Memories, and the feelings attached to them, emerge—Elle handcuffed to a seat, a teenager with a rifle, a blinding headache, Maeve and blood on the warehouse floor.

“Here’s what I see,” she says. “I see a man who’s been through so, so much. Your mother is mentally ill, your father left--”

His father is packing a suitcase. Spencer doesn’t know what he’s supposed to do or say, so he falls back on what he knows.

“Statistically, children who grow up in two-parent households attain three more years of higher education than children from single-parent households.”

It doesn’t help. “We’re not statistics, Spencer.”

“Your file says she’s staying at an institution, and with your father out of the picture, I can only assume you were the one who had her admitted--”

“Spencer, please don’t do this to me!” she cries as she’s escorted out of the house by Bennington Sanitarium’s transport staff.

“A few years into your work here at the FBI, you were kidnapped, tortured and drugged--”

He’s tired and cold and his whole body aches. Tobias—the real Tobias—looms over him with a syringe.

“Please. I don’t want it,” he pleads of his captor. “I don’t want it, please.”

The needle punctures his skin regardless.

“—you were held hostage by a cult leader--”

Emily sits across from him on the plane with a black eye. “What Cyrus did to me is not your fault.”

He pretends to agree.

“—you went through the death and reappearance of Agent Prentiss--”

He’s tried to make it clear to Jennifer that he wants to be left alone, but she won’t stop trying to talk about it with him, and he’s had enough.

“I came to your house for ten weeks in a row crying over losing a friend, and not once did you have the decency to tell me the truth.”

“—and your girlfriend was shot in front of you.”

“Who’s Thomas Merton? Who is he?” Diane demands, gun pressed against Maeve’s head.

“He’s the one thing you can never take from us,” Maeve replies, and Spencer’s heart drops. Thomas Merton is Maeve’s way of saying goodbye—she’s giving up.

“Wait!” he cries out, but it’s too late.

“This is just some of the more traumatic stuff. And then there’s what happened last month, which is why you’re here. You present a face of not being bothered by all of this, because that’s what you’ve been doing all your life, but I think you are bothered. You really, really are. And you don’t want to admit to anyone just how much it all has affected you. Maybe you don’t even want yourself to know.” Her expression and tone of voice are certain.

Spencer can’t take it anymore. The whirlwind of emotions and memories is overwhelming.

“The number of times you’ve almost died is staggering--”

“Yeah, and sometimes I wish I had!” He glares at her, breathing heavily. “Is that what you wanted to hear?”

But she doesn’t seem intimidated or alarmed at all. She leans back in her armchair. “Now we’re getting somewhere.”

The response only serves to make him angrier. She questioned him relentlessly and made him admit something he swore in the dark hours of sleepless nights that he’d never think again, never voice, let alone admit to anyone. She forced it out of him, forced. She made him say it against his will.

So why does he feel a sense of relief?

“I…” Tears well up in his eyes—real ones this time. “I’m done,” he chokes out.

He pushes himself off of the couch and out the door, slamming it shut behind him.

---

He storms in Hotch’s office and demands to see a different psychologist. But she was one step ahead of him—a few hours before the appointment, she had emailed Hotch and told him that under no circumstances should Spencer be allowed to get a clearance from someone else.

“And you’re going to believe her?” he cries.

“She’s doing her job, Reid.”

“You barely know her! You’ve known me for a decade!”

“Yes, I have,” Hotch agrees. “And you’ve told me yourself that you’ve fooled psychologists and therapists before. So if this one is saying you’re not ready yet, I’m inclined to believe her.”

Spencer just stares at him, but as usual, Hotch doesn’t blink.

“Unbelievable,” Spencer eventually mutters.

“Take the rest of the day off,” Hotch replies, glancing down at fists Spencer hadn’t realized he was clenching.

“Fine.”

Too agitated to stand in the elevator, he takes the stairs. As he stomps down them, he swears he’ll never go back to her office, even if it means never going into the field again.

A week passes, then two, and he hasn’t seen the psychologist since. But he doesn’t feel any better—he actually feels worse. It’s like her words broke a dam in his mind, in his gut, and feelings of unease and uncertainty won’t pass. It keeps him up at night. Her words echo in his head. “You don’t act like someone who wants to be alive.”

Spencer’s had yet another sleepless night and is struggling not to doze off at his desk despite the coffee he’s drinking. He stands up with the intention of splashing some water from the bathroom sink on his face, but his feet take him somewhere else.

He stares at the nameplate on the door. He swore he’d never go back, yet he feels compelled to knock.

It only takes her a few moments to answer. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?” she asks.

“I…” He sighs. “Are you busy?”

“No. Come on in.” She steps to the side, opening the door wider to let him pass. He sits down on the couch.

She waits patiently. She doesn’t rush him. She lets him speak first.

He wrings his hands in his lap, staring down at them. “Something you said is bothering me.”

“What was it?”

“About… living,” he admits quietly. “I… I think you might have been right.”

When he gets the courage to glance up at her, he finds a soft smile on her face. “Would you like to talk about it?”

Spencer hadn’t realized he was expecting judgment and disdain until it didn’t happen. His shoulders slump down in relief. “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, I think I would.”

---

“You’re still thinking about her, aren’t you?”

Spencer looks up from his paperwork, slightly out of it, to find Derek watching him. His coworker had, indeed, caught him thinking about her again. His psychologist. Well, former psychologist. After his second session back with her, she’d handed over a clearance form and a referral to a therapist outside the bureau to see long-term.

“And you better follow up with that,” she’d told him, the corner of her mouth turning up despite her serious tone of voice. “I’ll know if you don’t.”

He’d promised that he would, and had followed through. But despite the progress he was making with the new therapist, he was feeling a little disappointed that he didn’t get to see her anymore. He only saw her in passing, sometimes in the elevator or walking down the hallways of the building. They would exchange hellos, she would ask how he was doing, then give him a little wave as she left. Each time his heart would skip a beat, and he’d feel an urge to follow her to wherever she was going.

Yet he hadn’t quite realized why he seemed to be preoccupied with her until a dream he had a few weeks ago—a dream in which he found himself kissing her. Despite being alone in his bedroom, he’d woken up feeling embarrassed. He promised himself that he would put her out of his mind. Having a crush on his psychologist? It was ridiculous.

But then he saw her in the elevator a few days later and he couldn’t help but analyze her body language. It was open, and she twirled her hair around a finger while she looked at him to ask him how he was. A few other people entered the elevator on the next floor, but her attention remained on him. They were subtle signs, but signs that he recognized nonetheless—signs of attraction. And once he started seeing them, he couldn’t stop.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Spencer tells Derek, picking back up the pen he hadn’t noticed he dropped.

“You can’t pull that on me, kid,” he replies. “It’s your psychologist. You can’t stop thinking about her, can you?”

Spencer sighs. “So what if I can’t?”

“So go ask her out already!” Derek says like it’s obvious.

“You don’t think that’s just a little inappropriate?”

“You’re not seeing her as a client anymore, are you?” he points out. “Go for it, kid. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”

Spencer takes the advice—as soon as Derek said it, he knew he was right. He would regret not taking a chance on her and the connection he felt. Sure, she’d helped him with therapy, but it went deeper than that. It feels like she knows him.

He leaves the bullpen ten minutes early that evening, hoping to catch her before she leaves for the day. On her doorstep, he feels just as nervous as he did on the day he admitted that she was right, but it’s a different kind of nervous. An excited nervous. He knocks on the door.

She’s surprised when she seems him. He watches as her pupils dilate, and it boosts his confidence. “Dr. Reid. Can I help you?”

“You can. I’d like to talk,” he says.

“Oh. Well, I guess I could do that,” she says. “I thought things were going well with the therapist I referred you to, though.”

He shakes his head. “No, I don’t mean I want an appointment.”

Her eyebrows come together in confusion. “Okay, then, what do you want?”

Spencer doesn’t hesitate. “I want to take you out to dinner.”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“I really like you, and I think we’re meant to be together,” he replies, voice softening a bit.

She pauses before answering. When she does, her voice is gentle. “Dr. Reid, sometimes a medical professional’s care can start to feel like affection over a period of time, but--”

“No one has ever listened to me like you do,” he interrupts.

“That’s my job,” she points out.

“I’ve seen therapists before, but none of them have been like you,” he counters. “You understand me.”

She sighs. “Well, I’m glad I was a good fit and was able to help you. But that doesn’t mean that I see you as anything more than a client.”

“You’re lying.”

“Excuse me?”

“You do feel something more for me,” he says firmly, but then backtracks a little. “Well, I know you’re attracted to me at least.”

She blinks and shakes her head slightly, take aback. “Dr. Reid, this is not appropriate--”

“Please call me Spencer,” he says, then jumps into his explanation. “See, when we’re attracted to someone, our bodies display involuntary signals, and I’ve seen you do some of them when you’re around me. Whenever we run into each other here, your body will turn a little towards me and you’ll play with your hair. Your attention is almost entirely focused on me. And, when you see me, your pupils dilate. They did it when you opened the door just a few minutes ago. Oh, and I’m attracted to you, by the way,” he adds as he realizes how one-sided he’s been. “I imagine my pupils probably dilate when I see you, too.”

Her mouth opens and closes a few times, like she wants to speak but doesn’t know what to say. She looks flustered, and he wonders if maybe he’s pushed it too far or said too much, but he can’t turn back now. “So, please, let me take you out,” he says quietly. “Just… just give it a chance.”

She bites her lip and looks at the ground. There’s a crease between her eyebrows, which he’s come to learn means she’s thinking. She speaks seriously when she looks back up. “If I go out with you, I can’t treat you anymore. If you ever need another evaluation or session, you’d have to get it from someone else.”

“I know,” he says. “I get along well with the therapist you referred me to, though. And having to get clearance from a different psychologist at the bureau is something I’m willing to give up in favor of getting to know you better.”

She considers him. “You’re serious about this,” she states.

It’s not a question, but he answers it anyways. “I am.”

She tilts her head to the side, eyes unfocusing as she ponders the situation. Eventually, she says, “Let me think about it.”

It’s not exactly the answer he was hoping for, but he’ll take it.

---

It’s only six PM, but Spencer is already exhausted. He unlocks his apartment door, fully intending to collapse onto his bed, but instead receives a pleasant surprise in the form of his girlfriend waiting for him on the couch. He can’t help but smile.

“Sweetie, what are you doing here?” he asks, then adds, “Not that I’m complaining.”

“Penelope told me it was a bit of a rough case,” she replies. “And I missed you.”

She holds out her arms and he takes the invitation, joining her on the couch and laying down between her legs, placing his head on her chest. “I missed you, too.”

Her next words are overly familiar. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Hey, we agreed to no therapy,” he says. “Something about I can’t be your client anymore?”

She huffs. “This isn’t therapy. This is being a good partner.”

Spencer smiles into the fabric of her shirt, snuggling in closer. “I know, I’m just teasing you. I don’t need to talk about the case,” he says, finally answering her original question. “I feel fine now that I’m here with you.”

She lets out a pleased hum and starts running her fingers through his hair. “I ordered take-out for dinner, by the way.”

“Where from?”

“You know where.”

A wide grin spreads across his face. She must have ordered take-out from the restaurant he took her to on their first date. He lifts his head to look her in the eye. “Aren’t you glad you said yes to me all those months ago?”

“Oh, I suppose,” she says with pretend annoyance, rolling her eyes.

Then she kisses him.

Spencer’s never been so happy to be alive.

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

tell me what you thought here!

please note that i DO NOT ENDORSE asking out your therapist/former therapist. this is fanfiction. thank you.

general taglist: @calm-and-doctor , @spencerreid9

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds self insert #spencer reid #angst #my fic #i just cannot stop myself from writing about mental health issues and treatment can i

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heyitsyn · 3 years ago

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Manager!Inarizaki

a/n: aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa i would put in all the reqs but there were so many people who requested for our fox babies that it would literally take up every space :”) and im happy to comply so here it is

AAAA LOOK THEY’RE SO CUTE OMG LIKE BLS BUT IM A RIN SIMP :’)

alkdfjlsdfi

sunarin simp is typing😍🍃💞..........

ogeiogeiogei

hehehehehe

so im actually just going to include the starting lineup like i knowwwww theres subs but im only most familiar with the regulars :(

okay so anyways!!

now

you might be wondering

how in the hell did you become the manager of these crackheads

from calm papi kita to psycho tsumu,

why are you their manager

you, the cute and shy and innocent not wittle first year, somehow became the manager of the powerhouse volleyball team of inarizaki high

it all started with our dear lovely samu

hehe bet you didnt see that coming

now we all know baby samu literally is the biggest foodie in the team and he constantly thinks about food 24/7 therefore there isnt much room in there for anything else except for volleyball

basically,

the dude loves to eat

it just so happens that you made food

your family owned a cafe down the street from the school and you worked there after school to help your parents

now how does this tie in with samu you ask

this chile was so hungry that he had to skip practice

sending kita a quick text about doing a quick errand, he walked down the street on the hunt for a quick place to grab a bite

he totally ignored kita’s warning of cramps if he ate a lot then practiced but whatever food is life

it just so happens he stumbles upon your family’s cafe

when he entered, the smell of bread and food entered his nostrils causing this baby to just float right in

you were manning the register while your brother was at school so you smiled at the incoming figure of this familiar boy

and because you recognized him, you couldnt help but grin and gasp a little

‘oh! miya-senpai!’

you exclaimed and osamu was confused because he’s never seen you before but he thought you were probably a kouhai in school

you looked young and definitely not a face he’s seen before so he concluded you were most likely a first year

and you were really cute

like really

really

cute

that thought caused this babe to blink awkwardly and nod at your direction

‘uh, hi’

he greeted and you smiled at his awkward nature

‘what can i get you today, miya-senpai?’

he must’ve been busy looking at you to actually look at the menu behind you and he fumbled, rushing to find a food to get

‘wh-what do ya recommend?’

he asked and you paused then thought deeply

‘hmm, we have onigiris freshly made! and we also have milk bread thats really good!’

did you just-

did you just say onigiri?

‘yea ill take some onigiri’

he decided and you lit up

‘perfect! the total is-’

he completely blanked out because wow your smile was really pretty

‘miya-senpai? miya-senpai?’

you called out and he snapped out of it

‘oh, sorry, here’

he gave you the cash and you gave him back his change before wandering to the glass case where the savory foods were placed

you seemed to glide over and osamu watched you with fond eyes, interest bubbling in him

there was something about you that made him curious

but he just didnt know what

it confused him because maybe you were just someone he hasnt seen before and not the same fans he sees all the time

‘you’re really lucky, miya-senpai. i just finished making them minutes before you walked in’

you commented

this took him aback

‘you cook?’

he suddenly asked and you chuckled, soft and airy laughs filling the air

‘of course, senpai! learning to cook is an essential for a business like this’

and thus created a beautiful friendship

he would come over to eat nearly every day of the week while you would happily serve him

sometimes, he would even buy extra so you could eat with him

while you were talking, he noticed you lacked the accent others from there had and he thought you were not originally from hyogo

he learned that you were actually from miyagi and you moved here just this year

‘so, how ya liking it ‘round here?’

he asked one day, after swallowing his food

you thought about it before shrugging

‘i mean, its still the countryside so i guess everything’s the same. maybe the dialect? my neighbors have strong accents, haha’

samu chuckled

‘its common over here. ya sound a lot more from tokyo. my best friend’s from there, ya see’

you raised an eyebrow

‘hm?’

‘rin. suna rin is in the team and hes from tokyo so he sounds like a standard city boy. ill take ya to meet him sometime’

nah he really wasnt

he wanted to keep you away from the others as much as possible, especially his brother, because he was a greasy mf

but that didnt really work out into plan because you approached him in school the other day

you saw him and you hurriedly ran to him where he stood with his twin and some guy

tsumu saw you coming from behind his brother and he smirked before nodding at you

‘samu, ya got a girlie running for ya’

samu turned, confused, until he saw your adorable face

‘y/n. whats up?’

you grinned

‘you left your team jacket, miya-senpai’

the red jacket was clutched in your hands and the two boys behind him shared a surprised look because osamu never mentioned a girlfriend

and with the way you were holding his jacket, the two boys immediately jumped into conclusions

well

more like atsumu started whining at osamu for not telling him he had a girl

‘i thought we were brothers! brothers for life!’

samu just awkwardly stands there and he has a sheepish look in his eyes that were looking at you apologetically

‘sorry about him, y/n. but thank you for returning it’

you handed him the fabric before smiling

‘it was a good thing you had a spare one for me, miya-senpai. who knew the rain would come so suddenly’

osamu sighed then playfully poked your forehead with his finger

‘how many times do i have to tell you to call me by my first name? i really dont want to hear anything that associates me with this bastard’

atsumu socked osamu at the shoulder causing the gray-haired boy to look away from you and start yelling at his brother

‘touch me again! see what happens then!’

‘yer just showing off for yer girlie! ya aint doin nothing!’

suna shook his head before turning to you with a sympathetic look

‘you really want to be with this guy? him and this idiot are practically a package’

you tilted your head

‘im,,, not with miya-senpai?’

suna blinked

‘but he gave you his jacket. he doesnt even give it to me. i guess its not part of best friend privileges’

at the mention of best friend, you lit up

‘oh! you must be sunarin! the tokyo boy!’

baby rin choked a little at the sight of your grin and he scrunched his eyebrows while awkwardly raising the corner of his lips to a smile

‘you,, uh,,, you know me?’

like it was the most obvious thing in the world, you nodded

‘at first, when miya-senpai told me, i didnt know who you were. but! youre actually very popular, suna-senpai! too bad i never saw you until today, though, because we’re in different floors. but! a lot of girls talk about you!’

poor rin didnt know how to react to that because he didnt want to look flustered but he didnt want to look cocky either

so he just opted to smile gently

‘oh. well, in that case. let me introduce myself to you. suna rintaro’

can we normalize suna being an actual nice guy instead of the cold stand-offish player bastard?

you shook his hand and said your name as well

like samu, he asked you to call him by his first name too since you were close to his friend therefore should try being close to you too

speaking of samu, him and atsumu reduced the violence to just bickering and they were still teasing each other even after you and suna talked

the coochi bangs boy rolled his eyes then slapped atsumu’s arm to gain their attention

‘yo. theres a girl here. try and be nice and civil’

atsumu seems like he forgot your existence because his eyes brightened at the sight of you

‘oh! heya!’

you nervously smiled at him because his hyperness and overall atsumu-ness was quite overwhelming

‘h-hello, miya-senpai’

atsumu pouted at how apprehensive you sounded

‘eyyy, why are you being nervous, girlie? im just samu, yanno! same face and everything!’

osamu knew you well enough that you were kinda awkward and you didnt know how to approach a hyper person like his brother so he naturally saved you

‘hey, y/n, the bell’s about to ring any moment now so try to not be late and ill be sure to see you later. do you want me to pick you up from your class and we can walk together?’

to you, it was just a simple offer from a friend but to the two, that was the confirmation of your relationship with the wing spiker

‘wahh, atsumu, your brother really is better than you. he knows how to treat girls good’

atsumu took offense to this

‘excuse you! i would be too if there were genuine girls in this school!’

osamu’s aggressive blinking was his signal for you to hurry along and you noticed causing you to chuckle before bidding goodbye

‘it was nice meeting you, rin-senpai. and,,, you too, miya-senpai. samu-senpai, later at 3?’

osamu softly smiled while nodding

‘later at 3’

the TEASING HE FACED from the two was unbearable and despite the amount of times he denied it, they were still teasing him

‘samu’s got a girlfriend~! samu’s got a girlfriend~!’

‘tsumu, i swear to god if you dont shut your trap’

‘imagine having a girlfriend’

true to his word, osamu was waiting for ya at the bottom of the stairwell from the one that led to the second floor, absentmindedly kicking some invisible thing in the floor

you were fixing your bag straps on your shoulders when you saw him at the end of the hallway and you couldnt contain your excitement seeing the grey haired boy

‘samu-senpai!!’

you shouted, getting his attention that made him whip his head up

the blank face contorted into a small smile and he raised a hand

‘yo’

when you made it next to him, you were grinning really big and samu felt flustered at your happy face

so he cupped your chin with his large hand that allowed him to squeeze both cheeks

‘cutie’

he mumbled but you didnt catch it, too busy trying to get him to stop squishing

you were originally supposed to go walk over to the cafe but you didnt know that osamu was actually trying to skip practice and he was trying to hide from the members

okay first off, i dont think samu would ever skip practice willingly bc he has the same drive as miya atsumu but he also just wants to spend time with you asklfjldfjdlk

but the loud mouth tsumu saw you guys as you turned a hallway

you were busy talking to osamu about some cooking chef guy gordon and he was nodding and talking but then he heard a loud shout

‘SAMU!’

osamu babie didnt know what was happening so he protectively placed an arm in front of you and hurriedly shoved you behind him in case something happened

duh you didnt know what was happening either so you were clutching his jacket and peeked from his arm to see atsumu stomping over with suna trailing behind him, seemingly texting on his phone

osamu lazily glared at his brother

‘what’

atsumu blanched and sped walk faster until he was right in front of him to yell

‘IM TIRED OF YER EXCUSES! JUST CUS YA GOT YASELF A GIRLIE DUN MEAN YA GET TO SKIP PRACTICE!’

you furrowed your eyebrows

you tugged at his jacket and osamu turned to peer down at you and he gulped, preparing himself to hear your scolding

it wasnt the first time you scolded him as you just told him off the other day for not eating enough vegetables and fruits to balance out his unhealthy love for onigiri and sweets

‘samu-senpai,,, you told me you guys were taking an off week. why are you skipping practice today’

you were genuinely worried and you didnt seem to understand why he did that but the other two did and atsumu didnt hesitate

‘CUS HE WANTS TA SPEND TIME WITH YA, Y/N! BASTARD CANT EVEN BOTHER TO TELL ME THE REASON! YER SICK?! WHAT THE HELL EXCUSE IS THAT! YA NEVER GET SICK!’

poor suna is just watching this go down and he felt bad that you were caught in the middle

so he suggested a compromise

you watched sunarin push atsumu’s chest to make him back off and he gently smiled at you before looking at the two

‘how about we all go to practice and if y/n-chan wants, she can wait and osamu can spend time with her when hes done? besides, atsumu, you know osamu has been doing good on his spikes. maybe we can persuade coach and kita to let him off early since hes,,, quote unquote,, ‘sick’’

osamu debated but you emerged from behind him

‘sure! samu-senpai would love to go to practice! right, samu-senpai?’

you smiled at him but it was a stern smile

you just wanted him to go to practice because you knew now of how important volleyball was to the school and they needed to get all their time and energy to win the sport

atsumu agreed to this plan but osamu was forced to accept it

simp

just for extra measure, sunarin and tsumu walked behind you guys to the gym so you and samu had time to talk

you were chiding him of course because why would he waste time with spending time with you

‘just wanted to see ya, y/n-chan’

he winked but you pouted and wrinkled your nose

‘you cant weasel yourself out of this, samu-senpai’

osamu has never heard you scold him before so he was like o.o but inside he was like,,, hot

the gym was already on full practice and kita saw the second years from the door

aran LAKDJFLAKSFJLASDKF ARAN AAAAAAAAAAAAA nudged mimi with a smirk

as much as they loved the underclassmen, watching them get told off by kita was too funny to not watch

but what caused them to curiously peer behind the three was the appearance of a girl

a girl?

‘why’s a girl with them?’

aran mumbled and mimi shrugged, but also intrigued

you were behind osamu and he could tell you were nervous because youve heard of the reputation of the team

they were seen as practically as popular as the basketball team and everyone worshipped them

they were who put the school’s name in the map and you were about to meet the legends of inarizaki

thankfully, atsumu and rin walked to the front of you two so you and samu were at the back

samu didnt look at you but he reached behind him to open his palm as a signal for you to take it

you gratefully grabbed it and leaned closer in case something happens

‘KITA-SAN! WE GOT EM!’

atsumu shouted and suna chided him for being really loud

‘you’re late’

an even voice said in front of them and you leaned over to the side to see who it was from

your eyes bulged out of your head because one, wow he was handsome, and two, he looked like someone from miyagi

YALL KNOW WHO IM TALKING ABOUT BYE-

‘oh wow’

you mumbled absentmindedly and samu looked at you at the corner of his eye before scoffing

your face was totally bright red and your eyes were super wide

kita? really? of all guys? it was kita?

‘SORRY! was samu who took so long!’

atsumu lowered his voice down but he didnt tell the captain of his brother’s plans to skip

‘he has a stomachache and he was at the nurse’s office’

suna smoothly came up with a lie and he might look cool and calm, his hands were clasped behind him with it clenching his phone

your eyes left kita to notice that habit and you had a small smile because it was another reassurance that these boys werent as high and legendary as everyone made them to be

in the end they were still just students and boys

they were still human

‘oi, osamu, who’s the girl?’

aran finally bit the bullet and asked the question everyone has been wondering since the beginning

both you and samu stiffened at the direct question to you but he nodded

‘this is l/n y/n’

he introduced and you raised a shaky hand as a greeting but let go of samu to bow slightly to your seniors

‘hello, my name is l/n y/n, i’m a first year’

a few players also raised a hand but it was mimi who spoke at last

‘nice to meet you’

kita nodded at you but turned to the three

‘why is she with you? are you skipping again, osamu?’

again?

osamu inwardly cringed

obviously, kita was sharper than they would think because he easily saw through suna’s lie

he also knew that samu never really got sick

he watched the younger shovel 5 bowls of ramen and still have enough room eat a plate of mochi and he was perfectly fine

it was silent between the four of you and atsumu and suna were looking at each other as they ran out of lies

dang they even planned the entire walk of what to say to kita

you looked between the twins and their friend before speaking up

‘samu-senpai really did have a stomachache. i was-uh-helping the nurse! um, i want to be a doctor or a nurse when i grow up! and-’

you started to ramble but because you were trying to lie and it was never your forte

ALKESDJFLKD Y/N I NEED TO TAKE YOU UNDER MY WING WE NEED TO TEACH YOU THIS IMPORTANT LIFE SKILL OMG

‘we were tryin to convince y/n to be a manager. thats why we took so long’

atsumu huffed

you froze

a what?

a manager?

you were genuinely truthful about wanting to go into a medical profession but not a manager

you were already a manager before and you didnt really want to do it again

kita was inspecting suna’s and atsumu’s and osamu’s faces to see a trace of dishonesty

you saw him raise a dark eyebrow and you knew then that these three cannot tell a lie to save their life

so you nodded frantically making kita look at you

‘mhm! they asked me! miya-san wanted someone they knew already so they asked me because i’m samu-senpai’s friend! so here i am!’

your awkward smile and stiff outstretched arms might’ve seem suspicious but kita moved his gaze from you to atsumu and the blonde nodded

‘yea! ya’ve been talkin bout bein worried of next year cus yall aint here no more so i got sum person responsible enough fer us!’

STOPP I HATE IT HERE I CANT SEEM TO WRITE OUT ATSUMU’S ACCENT LIKE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

after the longest 3 seconds, kita finally nodded and closed his eyes warily

‘alright. l/n-san, come here’

you froze at the way he said your name but suna was kind enough to walk over to your place beside samu to gently push you forward to kita

‘its okay’

he mumbled and you were so thankful because that gave you enough motivation and strength to keep going

your height was staggering between these men and kita seemed to tower you

but you kept an even and calm face

‘yes?’

you asked

kita looked at you and he stared at your face, pupils moving as a sign that he was inspecting your eyes and every feature

oh my god you shouldve plucked your nose hairs this morning

before you could feel more self-conscious, he spoke

‘you said you want to be a doctor?’

‘well, more like a nurse but um same thing’

‘you know medical stuff? know how to treat injuries?’

‘yes. i was a manager back in my hometown so i have experience’

‘where are you from?’

‘miyagi’

‘ya familiar with shiratorizawa?’

you cringed but nodded

‘yes’

‘are you from there?’

‘yes’

the three stooges from behind you had wide eyes at this sudden revelation because that was a school theyve played before

even the last interhigh, they were familiar of how strong that school was

the eagle and the guess monster

and you were their manager before?

must’ve been during middle school as you were just a first year

‘so you know how plays and stats work?’

‘yes. anything you want me to do, im familiar and capable to do it’

god why are you saying this

you didnt even want to be a manager in the first place

yet here you are again

you were getting flashbacks from the war ajkfdfd

kita looked at you silently once more before finally standing up straight and pointing you to their coach who was watching the whole thing with crossed arms and furrowed brows

‘there. talk to him and you can finalize everything. i think its too early to say this but nonetheless, welcome to the team, y/n’

AND THUS STARTED YOUR JOURNEY WITH THE BOYS

akldjklfjsdlakj

IT WAS ALL BUILT ON LIES BUT WHATEVER

AS LONG AS NO ONE DIED ISSOKAY

no but really dont tell lies in general yall, maybe white lies, but try not to do that

OKAY MOVING ON

MOMENTS WITH THE TEAM

duh you are much much closer to samu than the rest of the team so you tended to stick to him more

like you would go to him first if you needed something or if you wanted someone to help you with the crate, he would be your go-to

that would make atsumu whine because he felt that samu was better than him

‘oi, y/n! im really good with ma arms! i can bench 300 yanno?’

you politely smiled and nodded

‘thank you for telling me, miya-san’

then you would proceed to nudge samu’s arm yum to ask for help

butbutbutbut

dont worry!!!!

you do end up warming up to him

for my atsumu stans, yall tend to go to him when samu is either busy or you just need a good laugh

this mans will embarrass himself both on purpose or accidentally to make you laugh lmao

you also have extra bottles for his medicine because he has adhd and the guys are like,,,, yo chill

and duh atsumu would forget to take them so youre practically his reminder

we all know how tsumu was practically attacked that one time when he insulted those girls, right?

yall may have forgiven but i will never forget >:(

well, during matches, you as their manager, always have to tell the stands to be quiet when atsumu is serving

but no one told you this

you kind of figured it out during your time like when his eye would twitch if samu was talking to suna too loudly or when he would close his eyes to shut off his hearing because of the loud spikes on the other side

you noticed it

so you would go to the stands and nicely tell them that if they see atsumu serving, to be quiet

‘i understand you are all excited when he does his serve but we would all benefit more you could release that excitement inside and silently’

*cue atsumu pretending to faint in sunas arms*

OH SPEAKING OF SUNA

YES I SAID THAT I DONT REALLY LIKE FANON SUNA BC,,,

WEED

AND DRUGS

AND RUDE

JUST OVERALL

NOT RECOMMENDED

but canon suna :”)

as a player, suna is seen as really manipulative and snarky and witty

he loves to poke fun at the other team, even his own, and just all-around annoying

but off-court

suna is a very quiet and reserved person

totally different from the one who talks and yaps constantly to the other side of the net

and hes a really pure person in some topics

like he would turn red when you would compliment his new picture that he posted in inasgram

PLEASE SUNA IS TOTALLY A PHOTOGRAPHER LIKE HE TAKES PICTURES OF SUNSETS AND STUFF

or when you would offer to bandage him up for him because it’s hard to do it himself and your hand would touch his

dont tell anyone this but suna is very relieved that you and samu weren’t dating

thats all

thats all for now

;)

OOOO kita!!!

okay so kita is the captain, right?

but he doesnt play

like he plays rarely and aran is usually the on-court captain

this causes you and him to be at the sidelines a lot

he would tell you what he thinks would happen next or what the next plan should be and you would provide your own input

in a way, he was the one who really taught you the mechanics of volleyball and he would tell you the different tricks that techniques that the twins came up with

what makes you really soft and fall for him is when he starts to compliment his players

his pride in aran for being one of the top aces that has led them to nationals

his pride in mimi for being able to go on the longest on court and not be tired

his pride on akagi for being able to receive each ball and successfully give it to their setter

his pride on hitoshi for being the one who could handle the team personality wise and his plans for him to be his successor

his pride on ATSUmu for being the best setter he’s ever seen and his drive to get better no matter what

his pride on samu for being so strong and still getting stronger despite his dream career to be something not volleyball-related

his pride on sunA being motivated enough to help the team and make sure everyone knows that every ball can be stopped

like pls you almost cry all the time when you hear kita saying that because he seems to not say it to the others but only to you

it makes you happy that kita relies so much on these guys as much as they rely on him

OH MY GOSH OMIMI

okay

so omimi ren is a very quiet and calm character

hes kinda like suna where they dont really say much but when they do, its usually important and not irrelevant like atsumu

and he didnt say much when you got inducted in the team as a manager

like he just stared at you and you were just like o.o

ngl he did scare you a bit bc of his tall height looming over you and the way his dark eyes just pierces you through your soul

hes the type that you cannot willingly tell a lie to him bc you know he will find out one way or another

he can see right through you

maybe thats what makes him such a good middle blocker

but you started to warm up to him really quick and he would sometimes walk you home if the others cant mainly bc he knows his appearance will make anyone back off

its the simple things that make you appreciate him

two words: ginjima hitoshi

he is so two-faced

NO LISTEN BEFORE YALL BEAT ME UP JUST HEAR ME OUT

you know how like the 4 second years (PLEASE I KNOW THERES A GUY NAMED YUTO BUT LIKE I DONT KNOW MUCH ABOUT HIM AAAAAA TELL ME IF YOU WANT HIM IN HERE)

like suna, the twins, and hitoshi

the twins are the annoying ones who causes trouble, suna is the one taking pictures and evidence while cheering them on, and hitoshi is the one trying to break it up

BUT

i think that hitoshi is really the worst out of the 4 and he keeps in because who else would be the responsible one of the bunch

hello? they were about to be third years next year like are we really gonna go on with possibly a miya twin or suna being captain?

so he tries to force down his inner chaos to take on the role of the responsible one

BUTTTTT

you try to release that inner chaos

you sometimes hear him egging on atsumu under his breath like ‘do it’ but quietly so no one hears him

and youre like

?-?

please? we’re not? supposed? to allow? atsumu? to eat? and swallow? a whole? raw egg?

at first, duh he was also like that with you but you want him to be himself and be comfortable with you so you work hard to make him open up

now

you kinda regret it

because he now wants to go through the mcdonalds drive-thru, with no car, just to get mcflurries

you stared down at hitoshi from your bedroom window with a confused expression

‘but? you dont have a car?’

he grins up at you

‘but i got a CART! they said as long as it’s a car and car is in the word cart and the extra ‘t’ is just a bonus!’

‘hitoshi no-’

AAAAAA MICHIMICHI BABY

so akagi is the libero of the team and he is the one responsible for the make sure the ball doesnt touch the ground type of thing

you get really worried about him bc he does a lot of flying saves and his knees always get roughed up and such

so you try and stitch him up as much as you can like you even send him sites for good warm packs to buy

something that isnt known about akagi is that he, like atsumu, really likes to cook

but more like

he bakes

he bakes as a stress reliever and its like his meditation time

you go over to his house a lot to go bake something w him and share it to the guys later on

during ina get-togethers, him and samu are in charged of the food while youre the sous chef

SPEAKING OF SAMU

we forgot about him for a sec aldfjklkfdjlk

it was all thanks to him

because of him, you became a manager despite your initial refusal to become one again

you made friends with more people and you were able to have a fun high school life because of it

because of him

osamu does get a little sad or irritated whenever the guys start to hog you up

like he has to push down the tantrum of ‘I SAW HER FIRST!’

he wants to be the better twin lmao

he gets really butthurt when you would go to someone else even during the middle of your conversation

like he would be talking to you on the side but suna calls you over for tape and youre going

he pouts and atsumu teases him about it causing him to bark at him

LOL HE BARKS

okay so training camp

i think therell be an imagine for this so ill try to not make it as detailed

lets just say its a mess

suna really wants to go hiking bc he wants to go the top of the mountain for pictures of the stars and stuff

but atsumu whines of the bugs and possible creatures in there

this causes osamu to tease him and call him a coward and a wimp

and leads to a fight which aran tries to break up but gets sucked in anyways

and omimi just stands by and watches but he intends to intervene if it gets too much

then akagi gets taken by suna to go the hike with him even though hes scared of bugs so hes whimpering and complaining

while kita and hitoshi are off in the kitchen talking about new grains of flour and stuff

where are you?

youre at the lodge, drinking your f/d (favorite drink) and watching all this go down bc at training camp, it’s every man for themselves

there is a lot of bonding times as a team bc these boys may seem like all they think about is volleyball but they like to do something else outside of that

what they love the most is going to the beach

not only do they get to have fun, they get to relax and see you in a swimsuit alkfdjkfj

especially when kita accidentally falls asleep? they bury him with sand and make him look like a mermaid

because they are players who work out so great bodies duh

and they get so much attention for that

but they all mainly pay attention to you and oh my

youve expressed not being comfortable in wearing a swim suit and watch these guys absolutely start throwing compliments at you

but the third years would softly tell you that it’s okay not to wear one bc all that matters is if youre comfortable or not

HELP I WANT AN ARAN AAAAAAAAAAA

OH SO

we know how kita’s family are rice farmers, right?

well

he farms to help his granny and sometimes, youre the only one who’s free enough to go and help him

so you go over there all the time and granny really loves you bc one, you take care of her shin and thats beyond everything, and two, youre reliable and make shin laugh and such

like one time, you were carrying a basket to the back deck and granny saw you from the kitchen

she smiled before waddling over to the door so she could talk to you

‘y/n-chan!’

you whipped around quickly at the call of your name before grinning and hurrying up to her

‘yes, granny?’

she gave you a bottled water then gestured down to the field where shin was tirelessly tending to the rice

‘please give that to shinsuke. poor boy has been pushing himself too hard with the field and his sport and not taking care of himself’

she chided but there was a certain hint in her tone that made her sound so proud of her grandson

you looked down at the bottle and squeezed it

‘kita-san works hard not for himself, but for everyone else. it makes me sad when he neglects his health and tends to the team instead. so dont worry, baa-chan! i’ll take care of kita-san for him! for you!’

nah bc granny was already gossiping with her neighborhood ladies about this beautiful girl that shin got and how they should be jealous their grandsons don’t have someone like you

OOOOOOO

since your family owns a cafe, the guys goes there all the time

its kinda like the ramen shop for the seijoh boys

they go there mainly to see you even outside of practice ANDDD

they wanna look good in front of your family

like tsumu suddenly knows cleanliness bc he cleans up the mess on the table or kita is no longer an introvert as hes now talking to your mom about the benefits of rice water and her not needing one bc her hair is already beautiful

PLEASE WHAT

and even during the summer, theyve helped out a lot when it was busy lunch times and you couldnt handle it yourself

GOSH IMAGINE SAMU BEING YOUR MOM’S APPRENTICE AND HANDSOME BOYS TAKING YOUR ORDERS WHILE SOME ARE CARRYING HEAVY TRAYS THAT MAKE THEIR ARMS POP

okay imma stop now

OH DONT GET ME STARTED DURING THE DEFEAT WITH KARASUNO

I DONT CARE YALL CAN HATE ME FOR SAYING THIS BUT KARASUNO SHOULDNT HAVE WON LIKE INARIZAKI WERE LITERALLY THE SECOND PLACE IN NATIONALS AND COMPETED AGAINST I T A C H I Y A M A

LIKE WHAT

OKAY ANYWAYS

everyone was already down and moody bc of the loss

and you wanted to be at the back bc you didnt know how to handle the situation

in your time as their manager, not once have you seen them lose

during those 10 months of being a manager, you have not once seen them be defeated during a game even with practice matches

then with those nobodies?

karasuno?

last time you checked, karasuno went down under when coach ukai retired

so having them lose was a real shock

and a really bad event

there was a certain air around you all during the bus ride to the hotel which made the entire time very uncomfortable

everyone finished their crying either in the locker rooms or the bathroom so all that was left was their red eyes

the coach sent everyone off to bed and although they were allowed more days to stay, they all collectively chose to just go home and keep those excused days as a rest day

‘we all would like to just stay at home and recharge’

kita’s request was everyone else’s, even yours, as you were both worried and tired for the boys

so that night, the coaches were able to book train tickets for everyone the next day back home

you stayed up, watching tv in your own room out of boredom because the group chat was quiet and you were too tired to do anything else

the next day, everyone

osamu claimed your shoulder and he held your hand tight with his

his breathing was ragged and even with his closed eyes, the redness around them made it obvious he had been crying

the bus that was filled with excitement before, became quiet and the sound of the engine and wheels took over the silence

you thought samu had fallen asleep so you raised your free hand to stroke his hair

‘hey y/n?’

you flinched at the surprise but hummed

‘imma tell him today. later, but today’

his voice was low and he was murmuring to hint that this was the extra sensitive topic you both discussed a few days ago at the cafe

you nodded but made sure he knew that no matter, he still got you

the coaches were upset and mad at the loss

but in the end, they all realized that this was the last game the boys would play as a team

sure, they could have practice matches and they could play again together in the future but nothing would change the atmosphere and feeling of playing the important matches

this was the team that brought them closest to nationals with placing second out of the entire country

they were a good team that somehow got defeated

but the coaches were still proud

they didnt even yell at the boys to take laps and instead brought them into a team meeting

you stood beside the coaches, your own sniffles with everyone else, and listened to them talk

‘-year has been the most productive this school’s team has had in decades. i hope you all are proud of yourselves as we are proud of you. you lost so you are no longer in the competition and we talk about it tomorrow. but for now, go home and take a rest because tomorrow, we will be running laps and drills and miss y/n will be timing you until you pass out from exhaustion’

you blankly looked at the coaches bc you thought this would be a heartwarming talk but quickly turned into a threat

‘but thats for tomorrow. so go home and rest up. expect what is to come’

you were just wanting to leave lmao

like you wanted to hurry home and make something for the guys to eat tomorrow

just do something to make them at least smile

the guys were quietly packing up and you watched them with trembling eyes at their dismissal

you wanted them to stay longer

stay here and laugh and mess around

like tsumu poking kita and pretending he didnt

or mimi talking about something and aran staring blankly at him but he’s really sleeping with his eyes open and startling him awake

‘guys!’

you shouted

they all stopped and turned to look at you

‘hm?’

hitoshi asked

you hurriedly looked around to find something to stall them here and you noticed the cherry blossom tree that’s blooming

must be the time of the year

‘l-lets! have a-take a picture! outside! by the tree!’

you pointed and they looked at each other

you were acting strangely

but they were simps for you so they just nodded and went outside

they didnt even complain and went to stand out in front of the tree

you had your phone and pulled it to the camera app to raise it to get the team in the frame

they looked sad and tired and worn out but they were still trying to joke around and have natural smiles

‘closer, you guys! bunch in closer!’

you motioned with one hand but they stopped

‘um? y/n? aren’t you gonna join us?’

ren asked but you shook your head

‘its? for you guys? besides, no one will take it for us, silly’

the boys insisted on you prop it up on a bench over there because they wanted you there with them

‘hey, come here! lets all be in it!’

aran shouted and you had no choice but to follow them

the boys had to stand closer to the camera as the bench was a ways ahead of the tree but dont worry, the tree is still there

they wanted you in the front bc they were all taller than you but they really wanted to showcase you

you were their manager and the person who took care of them

they treasure you so much

‘smile!!!’

someone shouted and the timer hit zero and the picture was taken

sure, their school’s motto was that they didnt need things like memories

to not have anything tying you down to the past and to challenge yourself with everyone focusing on the future ahead

in years from now, you could just be another thing from their past and nothing else

but they would be damned if that happened

any fragment of you to remind them of the best time of their youth and the person who loved them more than anyone else did

so yea, sure they wanted to represent their school’s motto

but this time

they can make an exception

a/n: HII!!!! IM BACK AND SUDDENLY IM ABLE TO WRITE AND FINISH THIS I SWEAR I CANT BELIEVE IT TOOK ME THIS LONG TO PUBLISH THIS I CANT WITH THIS YALL IM LOWKEY DISAPPOINTED IN MYSELF AND IM ASHAMED IM SO SORRY

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!! headcanons #inarizaki #inarizaki x reader #inarizaki imagines #inarizaki scenarios #haikyuu manager #haikyuu!! manager #inarizaki manager #inarizaki fluff #manager inarizaki #manager!inarizaki

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byunmyeon · 4 years ago

Text

Philophobia

↳ pairing: lee suho x reader

↳ synopsis: in a world where a red string connects soulmates, everyone knows who they belong with. except you, who hasn’t been able to see your string since you were a kid.

↳ warnings: language (like one word), a copious amount of angst and heartbreak

— note: there’s a serious lack of suho fics out there so I decided to write my own. lmk if you guys want me to write a second part!

There was something inexplicably eerie about being the new girl in a school that was twice the size of your old one. Not because it was an unfamiliar setting, nor was it because you were painfully shy and terrible at making friends. It wasn’t even your disparaging insecurities that had you feeling so shook. No, it was something you couldn’t put your finger on, something you couldn’t begin to name. A discomfort you could feel all the way down to your bones.

Your inordinate unease swelled into full blown panic with every step you took toward your new classroom. Somewhere in your unorganized mind, you could hear your mom’s reassuring voice. Everything will be okay. You didn’t know if her words held any truth, but you really, really, really hoped she was right. You were being stupid, honestly. There was nothing to fear, but you couldn’t shake the foreboding feeling from your stature. Despite all the undesirable emotions you felt, your breathing was normal and your heartbeat was steady.

It took you a minute to gather yourself. You could do this.

After a very ineffectual pep talk, you finally got your feet to move. Your eyes were cast down as you entered the classroom. The rowdy classroom went silent once your presence became known. You swallowed the nerves and chanced a glance at your new classmates. The reactions were a mixture of curiosity and disinterest.

When your teacher introduced you to the class, you decided to really look at your new classmates. Among the sea of unfamiliar faces, one stuck out. An unnaturally attractive face belonging to an unfamiliar boy. His stare was strange. It was full of an intensity you couldn’t comprehend. You kept staring, in spite of yourself. Fuck. Was it possible for someone to be so attractive?

The clapping of your classmates pulled you back into reality. You were quick to look elsewhere, unable to understand the sudden lurch of your heart.

Suho couldn’t take his eyes off the new girl, more specifically, the string neatly wrapped around her index finger. He watched her carefully. The shy smile she wore was annoyingly adorable, and it made a foreign warmth spread across his chest and along his entire body. The new girl didn’t spare him another glance as she took her seat next to Jugyeong.

Lim Jugyeong.

He wasn’t her soulmate and she wasn’t his, but she was the girl who had unknowingly stolen his heart. That wasn’t about to change because some stranger who he was supposedly meant to be with came into his life with no warning.

Suho looked back to the front of the classroom without looking at the new girl again.

The first time it happened, you wrote it off as fatigue. After all, you had just started middle school and trying to keep up with your new workload as well as your budding social life was exhausting. That day, the color of your string had faded a bit, but it was still visible. By the time you were on your way home it disappeared for a mere second before regaining its color. Days later, it was completely gone.

When your mom first found out you could no longer see your string, she became extremely distraught. It had affected her more than it did you, honestly. She wasted no time in taking you to see countless specialists and psychologists. Anything to keep you from becoming a freak that didn’t know who they were meant to be with. She unknowingly made you feel exactly like that.

Apparently, you were a rare case because every person you went to for help wanted to conduct a study on you and your condition. Fortunately for you, your mom didn’t want you becoming a lab rat and decided to stop seeking out help from strangers. Left with no other option, you went to one person who she believed could help you. An old friend of hers.

He wasn’t a specialist, just a regular doctor who came to the conclusion that a deep, scarring trauma had caused you to no longer see your string. You could remember the heartbreak on your mom’s face because you both knew what that trauma was.

Your mom did her best to help you. Spending more time together and countless hours of therapy did nothing for your condition. Nothing worked. You became convinced that trying to see your string again was futile.

And you were right.

As time went on, you grew used to the unease that had latched itself onto you on that first day. The feeling in your bones settled in like an unwelcome guest who refused to leave. No matter what you did, you couldn’t shake the feeling. Eventually, you gave up trying.

However, something shifted when you crossed paths with Lee Suho.

You two had been put in the same group for a science lab. His attention had been solely on Lim Jugyeong, but there were times when your eyes would meet. Those milliseconds were just that, but to you they felt like an eternity. He rarely addressed you, but when he did, you could feel the pressure weighing on your bones fade bit by bit. That familiar feeling soon shifted into a more comfortable presence that you yearned to feel forever.

It was subtle, but at some point, Suho’s emotionless face changed. The change would last for no more than a second, but it always did when he looked at you. That change had your entire stature seeping with warmth. You vaguely recognized the feeling as something akin to infatuation.

It scared you.

Of course, the possibility that he might be your soulmate crossed your mind, but you quickly dismissed that thought.

Too many times had you gotten in trouble for insisting someone was your soulmate when they really weren’t. Any special bond or feelings that grew between you and someone else couldn’t always be interpreted as the ones between soulmates. You learned that the hard way.

Besides, your soulmate would make it clear to name themselves as such even if you couldn’t see the string.

At least, you hoped they would.

Philophobia.

Before you went into high school, your mom insisted you see one last psychologist with the promise that the one she found was different. Reluctantly, you went to see this woman who diagnosed you with this absurd illness. You felt like it was made up, but your mother was adamant that you did have it.

You knew she only thought that because you had told her you no longer had any interest in finding your soulmate. Her panic was unrivaled after hearing those words come out of your mouth. You wrote off her panic because your disinterest in soulmates was only natural. How could it not when—at the time—it was all your friends could talk about? Talk about being the odd man out.

Okay, and maybe you also weren’t keen on meeting new people because of the fear that they could easily ignore the string you couldn’t see. There was also the fear that if you ever did meet someone you wanted to spend your life with, they could end up not being your soulmate and vice versa.

But those feelings would all fade with time, you were sure.

Hanging out near the back of the school where no one ever went became a regular thing for you. It was the one spot where you didn’t have to worry about your soulmate or anything related to that—a safe place. Until it wasn’t.

“You can’t just ignore the bond you have with her.”

The angry voice was one you vaguely recognized. You peeked around the corner, eyes widening when you saw Han Seojun and Lee Suho in the middle of what appeared to be an argument.

“Why are you bringing that up?” Suho’s eyes narrowed. “Do you still like Jugyeong?”

Seojun’s gaze hardened. “It’s not about that.”

It was wrong to listen on what was clearly meant to be a private conversation, but your feet wouldn’t move. You could see Suho’s anger and irritation from your hiding place, and for some reason seeing him that way made a blistering discomfort latch itself onto your chest.

“You’re being unfair to Jugyeong and Y/N.”

The mention of your name had your insides twisting into an uncomfortable knot. You didn’t understand why or how you had anything to do with the discussion, but you had a feeling the reason wasn’t anything good.

“Just because she’s my soulmate doesn’t mean I owe her anything.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest, one that grew into a searing pain as the seconds ticked by. You might’ve cried out in pain had it not been for the shock that consumed you. In a sudden instant, your vision became blurred with tears as you staggered back. His words were the worst form of torture, like a piece of barbed wire that wrapped itself around your heart.

Your fate was a cruel one, forever bound to someone who refused to acknowledge the bond between you two. Lee Suho was your soulmate, but he didn’t want to be.

It was a cruel reality to have your worst nightmare come to life.

“Is it true?”

Suho raised an eyebrow at you. His gaze didn’t soften like it once did. Now it just remained impassive, almost annoyed. The cold look he was giving you was making you regret even coming to him in the first place.

“Are you really my soulmate?”

“Why are you acting like you don’t know?” Suho’s unaffected stare unsettled you. “You’ve known since the first time we saw each other.”

But you hadn’t known. This entire time you had been driving yourself crazy thinking you were only imagining the connection between you two like you had done countless times after you first lost the sight of your string. Despite wanting to tell him that, you settled for a question.

“What about Jugyeong? Don’t you think she—?”

“Are you going to tell her?” He interrupted you.

You could literally hear your heart crack. Of course that’s all he cared about. He didn’t care whether or not you were hurt and upset, hell, he probably thought you had no interest in your soulmate. But he was wrong, so very wrong.

“Why?” He demanded. “You don’t want me as your soulmate either. You’ve been ignoring the bond, too.”

I can’t see my string! You nearly yelled. The words were clawing at your throat, eager to be released. But you found yourself unable to tell him the truth.

“My soul chose yours,” you said, close to tears. “And a soul just doesn’t forget that.”

For a moment, one that was so quick you thought you imagined it, Suho looked remorseful. Stupidly, it made you hope that he would accept you and the bond that bounded you together.

“Don’t tell her.” His voice didn’t sound like a plea, but you knew what he was asking you to do was clearly important to him. “I can’t loose her.”

And so, you agreed. Even if it meant that your own heart would be left in tatters.

#lee suho x reader #true beauty fanfic #lee suho imagine #lee suho fanfic #true beauty imagine #cha eunwoo #cha eunwoo imagine #cha eunwoo x reader #true beauty tvn

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sambuckylibrary · 3 years ago

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MODERN AUS/NO POWERS

i wanna savour, save it for later by caramelle

NR | 6.4k | no warnings apply

"It's his damn ratings, man," Sam says. "It's weird 'cause when you read the reviews, he seems to like our food and all. Nothing but praise for days. And then you get to the rating, and it's always the same. Three goddamn stars."

Bucky tips his beer bottle from side to side, lips pursing slightly. "I see. And that's… a bad thing?"

"We are not a three-star joint," Sam says flatly.

Or, the one where food truck owner Sam gets caught up in his quest to unmask an anonymous food blogger. Falling for one of his regulars was never on the menu.

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T | 3.1k | no warnings apply

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“No,” Sam said, chuckling. “I don’t cheat,” he swept his gaze up and down James’ body, “even with guys who look like you. But, I’m bored and a little pissed, so if you wanna sit here and shoot the shit ‘til my man shows back up, I’m game.”

Never one to back to back down from a challenge - especially a challenge who looked like Sam Wilson - Bucky took another swig from his bottle and replied, “Sure, doll. I’ve got nothing but time.”

Steve has Sam. Bucky wants Sam. Sam wasn’t expecting any of this.

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GA | 2.3k | no warnings apply

"Hmm." Sam has already taken off his jacket and hung it by the door; he's now just in that tight t-shirt clinging on for dear life around his biceps. He snaps on some protective gloves, circling the table, "How old did you say?"

"Oh.. uh, I'm twenty-five in March—"

Sam's eyebrow goes up, and his tongue wets his mouth corner.

"You mean the artifact." Bucky flushes bright red in an instant.

"I mean the artifact." Sam confirms, but he's holding back a smile again.

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fucktheroyals · 4 years ago

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You know after reading and reading and reading peoples theories and the meta from before the spn finale aired and the meta writers reactions to the finale I think I have a theory of my own. We don't have any answers tho, so this is pure speculation. If you wanna add something to support or discredit any of this that's cool but there's too many things floating around. Know I dont have proof for this conclusion at all. A lot of what I say is just guesses based on previous facts.

This all came together in my head when I realized how much this finale REEKS of the original producers and who the show was originally for. It REEKS of Robert Singer. Like if the execs started saying they didn't want it, Robert Singer was the one pushing that the story was about the brothers. That kinda thing.

Then, I was thinking of the problems in this episode and it struck me these are all of Supernatural biggest issues and to be honest all of it feels completely deliberate.

Take the sexism for example, Supernatural in it's later seasons largely out grew this, we have Jody, Rowena, Donna, Charlie, Mary, Claire (and even a wayward sisters pilot with MORE women/girls) all making regular appearances. They're mainly good characters and mostly aren't there to hurt our boys. Rowena, of course, is the one outlier being very about herself but it's clear she still cares for them, I mean its part of her development. But they're all real, with character flaws just like everyone else. (And we have Death too and she was POC 😭 THANK GOD)

Now look at the earlier half of Spn, we have Ellen and Jo, who's appearances were far in between. There's Bela in season 3, recurring for quite a bit (5 eps), but she is a character that is only there for herself, definitely not found family (unlike Ellen & Jo), and she's got more episodes in season 3 than Ellen and Jo in season 2 who aren't seen again til season 5. The "fans" send in hate mail after hate mail to try to get these characters off, and eventually they are. Then there's Ruby who's character stayed for a whole two seasons and was a largely recurring character. Why does she get to say so long? She's a plot device. She's supposed to be there to betray Sam. She has to stay (plus Jared obviously likes her). But she's not just a character the writers like writing about. Same with Lilith. Obviously not as recurring but still a plot device. Did they get hate mail tho? You can bet on it. Why? because tHeY'rE gOnNa PuSh ThE bOyS (Dean and Sam) aPaRt ThE sHoW iS aBoUt ThE bOyS oNlY. Without even thinking about the hate mail, just notice how large the difference is from how women are seen in the earlier seasons to the later seasons. Misha got tons of hate mail too for being a character that could split up the boys (probably only being allowed to say because he a man, thanks sexist producers and execs).

Only after Castiel was killed off and then Castiel fans successfully (thank you guys) got him back on the show did the hate mail largely simmer, which means female character's were allowed to stay! Which has lead us to a show with a good amount of female characters. But can you imagine having to kill characters off time and time again because people keep complaining that the show is "only about the boys." Fun times really.

So now we get to this final and we see sexism. But it wasn't just the plain old regular sexism you find in the earlier days of spn. Because now, there ARE women to talk about, talk to. But this episode was DESOLATE women wise, unless they were used for plot (which is also sexist!). Small scenes, they're barely there. Women gets her tongue cut out. Random women from s1 gets killed. Sam doesn't SPEAK of Eileen. Nothing. No mention of any female characters from the boys mouths unless they were from/in this episode itself. That's WIERD. I know we've all said it. But that goes beyond forgetting about characters. I mean its SAM'S GIRLFRIEND for Christ's sake. There is NO REASON they couldn't have said Eileen's name. Notice how Sam's wife is just... faceless. This is literally an age old sexist trope. Like... one of the things about bringing Mary back to life for s12+ is that it takes this trope... of basically a generic mother, and gives her life and feelings, whether you like them or not, they're real feelings. They said Mary isn't just a mom she's a person. Mary's existence in the later half of spn is to fix this kind of female tropes that fall upon her character, to not let these her stay a 2 dimensional character. They said we should know she's more than just the mom who tried to save her kid. Do that is the exact opposite of Sam getting a nameless, faceless wife. The sexism of the old spn wasn't just brought back, it was completely amplified. It wasn't just accidental or some exec "fixing" the story it was DELIBRATE. Whoever wrote that, didn't do ALL OF THAT by accident. Because an exec or a producer who doesn't see the flaws in old supernatural isn't going to write it that deliberately.

Let's bring it back to s10 when Charlie was killed (singer was mainly to blame). Dead in the bathtub, age old classic of burying ur gays. If you were here you know people never let Supernatural live that down. THEY KNOW what bury ur gays means. Hell, Robbie Thompson left because of Charlie's death and you think the writers don't know what it means? I mean both Bobo Berens (especially) and Steve Yockey's careers are centered around LGBT+ storytelling and you think they don't know? They know. They know.

And Dean wasn't just apart of the bury your gays trope, it is so far BEYOND that. Dean being killed on a rusty nail/screw, the tongues ripped out, things that seemed to be meant for other people. Jensen's acting in the last two episodes was giving us "DEAN RECIPROCATES" but no one ever actually saying it. I think it's clear that Dean was killed for being Bi. They didn't address it for a reason, they just silenced him. His narrative was supposed to be about letting him be HIM for the first time, to say what his feelings are instead of having them miscommunicated, and instead of doing that, they just silenced him. And the more we look at this scene the more horrific it gets. The more it's a complete slap in the face and it's supposed to be. Some guy who knows nothing about the LGBT can't write a scene this horrific.

Some guy who knows nothing about Dean couldn't write a scene that deconstructs all of Dean's character development and gives Dean his worst nightmare. I MEAN DEAN WANTED TO LIVE HIS LIFE! THEY DIDNT HIDE THAT JOB APPLICATION (or whatever job related thing that was) IN THERE FOR SHITS AND GIGGLES THEY WANT YOU TO KNOW THIS IS THE ABSOLUTE WORST SITUATION. Dean isn't Barney from HIMYM. If you watched HIMYM then you'll know Barney went from being a stereotypical ladies man and treating women terribly to being in love with a women and treating her right and working hard for it. The last episode of HIMYM (why its so bad) Barney's character development is thrown out and he's back to being a stereotypical ladies man. You don't need to know Barney's character very much to do that.

To kill Dean during a hunt his father never finished, to not have anyone at his funeral, to have Dean die young like his life didn't matter. Those are Dean's worst fears and you'd only truly know that if you watched the gin episode in s3, where they are basically laid out for you. You HAVE to know Dean's character to tear him apart like this.

This episode took all the core elements of the show and did a complete 180° the name of the episode itself is "Carry on" and Dean and Sam very much did not carry on. Sam grieving his entire life so that he good get to heaven and see Dean again. Dean being ready to live his life, despite the enormous pitfalls and learning to love himself only to be killed. "Family don't end with blood." Um.... it did in that episode either literally with Dean's death or you know BECAUSE NONE OF THEIR FOUND FAMILY WAS THERE. Not Jack, Not Cas, Not Eileen, Not Donna, Not Charlie, Not Jody, Not Claire... on and on we go. No one was there, nobody was even mentioned. Dean's funeral, no one even called that we know of. It was just Sam and Dean. Sam and Dean. And Bobby. Don't forget Bobby. But yeah Sam and Dean.

That's what the show is about right, the brothers.

Except it's not anymore. It hasn't been for years.

Cas not being there was deafening but it brought us to a major point. Becky. Becky's telling us about the terrible ending.

And many of us are wondering why would they literally tell us this is the worst ending and then... make it the ending.

Now before we move on, it very apparent many of you think Dabb doesn't ship Deancas. And Dabb doesn't care about the characters.

Say what you will about any plot holes in his writing, the point he is VERY GOOD at writing the characters, and giving us good ones.

Why do we know Dabb ships Deancas? (ill say when its cowrote, other wise its not) cowrote ep 8.02 - purgatory "I prayed to you, Cas, every night" "Cas, Buddy, I need you." "I have a price on my head, and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them, to – to keep them away from you." 8.08 Hunteri Heroici - Cas helps them hunt! 😊❤ Dean & Cas have a serious convo about why Cas doesn't want to see/go to heaven. 8.22 Dean's mad at Cas. Sam's explanation of why Dean should be easy on Cas: "It's Cas." Dean then points out how he'd knife anybody else if they did what Cas did. 9.10 - Cas comforts Dean when Dean can't take seeing Sam (Gadreel) being tortured anymore. Also tons of Cas. 9.20 (bloodlines) - Canonical couple parallel "I was there, where were you" 9.22 The angels make Cas choose between them and killing Dean and he "gave up an entire army for one guy" 10.09 Claire's reintroduction. Cas heavy ep. DeanCas date. 10.22 THE PRISONER - u know the ep where Dean beats the shit out of Cas but loves him enough to not kill him.

We COULD keep going but I think I've made my point. If Robert Singer is the guy that is like "the show is about Sam and Dean only" Andrew Dabb is the DeanCas shipper. And you could even say a Cas stan.

Notice! How in s13 for SEVEN episodes we have a story that revolves around Dean's grief about losing Cas. Notice! How often the stories in all these seasons have a focus on their relationship. THAT is Andrew Dabb. If it weren't for him doing that, we wouldn't be able to easily say after Dean's lack of a response to Cas' confession, that Dean reciprocates.

To me, when I was (binge) watching s12 for the first time, I thought damn this is really got a lot of DeanCas. So I went to look at who was in charge, who was writing. I saw Andrew Dabb, associated him with Deancas episodes, saw all the new writers, Bobo, and then I saw that Yockey is known for same sex stories and it clicked. Dabb assembled a team to give us Destiel. THAT WAS IN SEASON 12!!!!!!!!

The amount of people saying he's homophobic flabbergast me. Open your eyes! That isn't what's going on.

Imagine making a show and trying to right all the wrongs of Supernatural. Imagine trying to write the greatest love story ever told and you have the entire season planned out for it to end off beautifully, it may possibly be your greatest achievement when it's done and then boom. someone comes in and tells you you aren't allowed to make Dean bi or make destiel endgame, after he was most probably already given the go ahead.

Sure. You could imply he's bi or into cas still in a way. Still make nice-ish ending. just give everyone what the kinda want.

Or you could scrap the last season, nothing close to a canonical bisexual Dean Winchester or Deancas endgame in site. People can be done with it be happy with the show, continue to live their lives in ignorance as to how close they were to Canon destiel.

OR you can lead everyone to the very closest you can get them to what you were aiming for and then show everyone the ugly truth and reality. Light it all on fire. Burn the show to the ground in your wake. Try your darnedest to making these people's (the people saying no) pockets suffer. Show us, the audience, what happened. Show us what this show really is.

I've seen people talk about the ending being changed during covid but I dont think that happened. I think what happened was Dabb already had this season planned out before it even started. Obviously the details were wobbly but it was all lead up to this ending. Destiel endgame, Canon Bisexual Dean, whatever it was. They were ready to write the greatest love story ever told and then someone shut it down.

Imagine the pain that must have caused them to be told no when they already said yes. They must have been so excited to give this to us.

I think someone (some producers) told him what this show is "really" about. The brothers. Can you imagine, after being told no, some kinda bullshit like this is said to you: "Why aren't you bringing it back to the brothers, Andrew? that's what the shows about. What with all this homosexual stuff, you know the audience won't like that. Not really." Imagine the original producers pushing this kind of view on you. "You know when we started it was Sam and Dean. It should end with Sam and Dean." That kinda sounds like someone huh? huh.

So why give us a nice acceptable finale, when you can take every problem Supernatural's had either up front or behind the scenes and create a finale so incredibly bad that people don't want to watch it anymore.

Someone made a good point about how Sam was originally supposed to be the main focus (this isn't to put any hate on Sam or Jared). Dean and Sam are the main characters but Sam was supposed to be the focus and for Dean to have become the focus, must have annoyed the producers because... well here we are. They wouldn't listen to Jensen. The producers liked this ending. Jensen's opinion didn't matter to them.

In some ways, if this is really what happened, it can be seen as childish from Dabb. To hurt all of us like that. Yes, he's hurting the producers, the execs, the cw. But to hurt us? Yeah it stings.

But in other ways, if this is really what happened, this is Dabb showing us the muck and gunk under the shiny surface. The hate for Misha. The hidden hate for Jensen. The underlying sexism. The underlying homophobia. The people REALLY in charge don't care about us, they just want our money. He needed to open our eyes and free us, at least free the people that he was writing for. The people he sees that care about this show.

This is the ending the powers that be wanted and its a big fuck you for a reason. I dont think this is Dabb spitting in our faces for loving this show, I think this is him trying to get revenge for us.

But from here, you can see it how u want it. If this is really what happened, I'm not in charge of your emotions, if you wanna be mad be mad if you wanna be grateful be grateful. And you don't have to believe me either I said this is speculation.

Also, as for all of the rumors like there being shots to the confession scene that we didn't see, which Jensen himself implied, I think that might have been a last ditch effort to canonized DeanCas but obviously it was cut. Like the name change was pretty clear. As for Misha possibly having shot some stuff for 20 I dont know what to tell you. If it's true I dont know where the blame would lie.

I do think however, that if all this was the case, the writers were prepared to become villians here. I mean they told us the writers were villians with Chuck right? So. Who knows what went down so they could give us such a vile ending. It could've been the producers or the writers, who truly knows. I do think tho that people we "trust" did some pretty shitty things to push the narrative in certain directions so now one would see this as the actual ending that was coming.

So again do with my SPECULATION what you will. This was in no way meant to put Dabb on a pedestal or anything. Just meant to give a bit of perspective.

(Also Jensen didn't unfollow Dabb recently he was already unfollowed for years)

#15x20 wank #spn finale wank #spn finale meta #15x20 meta #Andrew Dabb #spn #supernatural #castiel #dean winchester #destiel #deancas #misha collins #jensen ackles #long post #sorry im on mobile #this is the longest post i have ever writen

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phoneybeatlemania-bit-the-dust · 3 years ago

Note

i think this is one of the quotes anon was talking about: https://thegilly.tumblr.com/post/29568742275/the-beatles-and-me-by-neil-aspinall-scanned

(Link) (CW eating disorders)

That magazine article actually breaks my heart - the way that he’s legitimately torturing himself is just so upsetting. And in reading about John dieting the way he did, I can especially empathise with him because ive had a lot of the same experiences.

Some points I took note of from the article are:

1. John ate one meal a day, which was steak with a large salad - that means he was probably eating less then a 1000 calories a day, and id guess he was maybe only getting about 800 (?) calories a day at most with that diet. 800 calories or less is literally starvation.

2. “John wont even look at bread” - this is the definition of an ‘unsafe food’. People with restrictive ED’s do eat, but they tend to have “safe” and “unsafe” foods. I suspect John considers bread unsafe because he knows its a binge food, and a food that he thinks will cause him weight gain - again, its just so sad that he would put himself through this misery. I also think that he probably felt meats were probably relatively safe for him to eat.

3. He had two different suits - one for when he was at his normal, healthy weight and another for when he had lost weight. He would bring them both on tour with him because his weight would fluctuate so much.

4. His regular weight was about 159lbs; apparently he was around 139lbs when he died (at least, thats what a quick google search tells me, so I don’t know how true that is. But certainly he was far thinner by the time he died).

5. “Right before a tour, he’ll do everything he can to lose weight” - this appears to speak especially to the theory that Johns ED might have been sparked largely by the pressures of fame and publicity.

6. “John hardly touches his salad, and he wont even look at the other boys eat.” - He’s eating the most miserable meal on the planet guys :’(

7. “John begins to look at me apprehensively. He has hunger pains in his eyes! Finally, when he is about to “break down” I…pull out the meat sandwiches.” - He was in actual, physical pain because he was so hungry.

8. “John takes the meat out of the sandwiches and eats every tiny sliver he can find. Then he stuffs the leftover slices of bread into a bag, which I take from him (so that he wont break down again and eat those).” - I would constitute this behaviour as a “binge”, because to me a binge is not based necessarily on the quantity of food you eat, or the amount of calories you take in, but more so about how in control and contented you are during and after eating. John wasn’t in control here, and its because its his bodies natural reaction when its in starvation mode.

9. “[Johns] main complaint is ‘How come Paul never gains an ounce — and he eats twice as much as I do?’”

10. “John is sure some kind of curse is set on his head — or is stomach as it were!”

Im not going to judge everyone for seemingly not making any real efforts to help John recover from his ED, because I don’t think ED’s became something that the general public were aware of until about the early 80s with Karen Carpenters death - and its taken years for people to even really begin recognising that a lot of men also suffer from ED’s! And so im not going to criticise them for not recognising that John legitimately was displaying symptoms of an ED, but I do think its just really sad that they were all watching John starve and torture himself, and couldn’t really do anything about it. And because they weren’t recognising him as mentally ill here, they probably all just accepted his diet as a bit of a laugh, whilst still knowing there was something more sinister underpinning it.*

(*I wonder however what Paul might have thought about all this, because we know that Paul was prone to being a sort of caretaker for John, and in a lot of ways “mothered” him. I feel like Paul would’ve recognised that only eating one meal a day was a problem, and maybe sort of laughed it off a bit because he couldn’t have known it was a legitimate mental illness - but also, I hope he would try to encourage John to eat. Id like to hear him talk about this in an interview someday, though I doubt anyone would ask him about this stuff)

This is just genuinely one of the most depressing things ive ever read about John, and if its a topic you feel comfortable reading id encourage anyone to give it a read (although if you think it could be damaging for your mental health, id say avoid it!).

And overall, im just really surprised that no biographer appears to have ever really spoken about this topic in a nuanced manner.

#cw ed #cw anorexia #cw eating disorder #john lennon ed #john lennon #johns psyche #this just makes me so so sad #he reminds me so much of ME #and thats just sad #like reading about seeing hunger in his eyes #<<< i know that pain!! i know that hunger!#@sergeantpeppa

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sixofpomegranates · 3 years ago

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The Dove and the Agent | Ch.1

🕊 Masterlist | 18+ | AO3 | Wattpad 🕊

🔙 Previous Chapter

Chapter CW: Mentions of suicide/mental illness, angry spencer

"Nobody, Nobody can be sure they're always right. The ones who are fullest of themselves that way are the emptiest vessels." ― Seamus Heaney

♜ Spencer's POV ♜

It had been two weeks since I started two work at the BAU again. In my head, I already counted the days until I had to go back to being a Professor.

And even though I had tried once more, my arguments to stop this terrible circle went nowhere.

From time to time, I also still thought about Dove. I hadn't heard from her since I had told her that her theories surrounding Linda Harvey's suicide were wrong. Of course, I hadn't expected to have more conversations with her, but she still graced my mind at moments.

It also did not help that Garcia had told the team about how she looked something up for a girl in my class, and now Luke was teasing me, calling Dove my 'little college girlfriend'.

Just as I started writing the report on our last case, somebody came out of the elevator. Thinking it would be JJ and Penelope returning from their lunch break, I looked up.

My gaze fell straight to Dove Wallace. Her white-blonde, wavy hair was tied in a low ponytail to make her look older, and she wore brown waist-tie pants and a tucked-in cream turtleneck to seem professional.

I couldn't help but chuckle at that sight. For a Profiler, it was more than clear to see that she was nervous. Holding onto her, very similar to mine-looking messenger bag, Dove's eyes met mine as she started to rush up to me.

"Hello, Miss Wallace," I greeted her, raising my eyebrows.

"Hello, Professor! I- I was here two days ago, but the lady at the front desk told me you weren't here."

"Yeah, my team and I had a case in Seattle. Miss Wallace?" I took a deep breath and tried my best to sound as polite as possible. "I don't think it is appropriate of you, my twenty-year-old student, to come to the FBI Headquarters and visit me, your Professor. This could be interpreted wrong if you understand?"

Dove looked at me like a scolded puppy. "I'm twenty-one, Professor," she corrected me shyly and pulled a massive folder out of her bag, handing it to me.

I opened it—lots of Highlighter use, Post-its, and photos. I didn't even need to read it to know what this was about. It was a shame that this was nothing more than a conspiracy theory spun out of control.

"I already told you there was nothing suspicious about Linda Harvey's death."

A little frown started to show up on her soft, porcelain face. "I know, but I looked deeper into it and found out that there were more suicides before Linda and all of the victims were at least five times at our college's counselor's office."

I licked my lips, preparing to interrupt her, but she was way too quick to dump her informations on me.

"And they happen every year around the same time, during the finals, always three students. That has happened now for at least fifteen years in a row! Also, our counselor is English Professor Miller, and he always told us he's from the UK, but I looked him up and couldn't find anything on him older than twenty-five years! And-"

I raised my eyebrows. "I assume Professor Miller is one of your teachers?"

Dove nodded in reply. "He's my Professor in English Literature. Not the nicest guy to be around..."

I sighed. God, I had really thought of her as more rational.

"So you have a personal problem with your Professor and are now framing him as some kind of evil mastermind behind the suicide of a girl from your dorm?"

She shook her head, making some of her curls fall out of her ponytail. "No! I know something's going on because a large amount of the female suicides from the last fifteen years surround girls that went to the counselor's office on the regular and have him listed as their counselor."

She flipped the folder to a page with notes and Professor Miller's face. "And as you can see on page twenty, he does not come up when you try to look him up in the UK birth registers, in the town he says he was born in. The only man I found was a Henry Miller, who died at twenty-five, two years before Professor Christian Miller made his first appearance here in the States. So I called around and found out that although there isn't a Christian Miller in that town, they had a Christoph Arthur to which description-"

Interrupting her and standing up, I now hissed at her a little louder than planned. "Dove! Enough."

She winced at my harsh words as I pressed my palms to my desk, leaning closer to her.

"Not only do you show up here, completely uninvited, you also throw around your evidence lacking conspiracy theories and spread rumors about a colleague of mine. Why are you so stubborn about this?"

Dove just looked at me, eyes widened like a frightened little bunny.

"You didn't even read it," she almost whimpered in a voice so much smaller than usual. "Please. I know I am right. This man vanished and was known in town as a creep. Please. I know that's the same guy."

Her glassy eyes met my annoyed gaze over and over again as she tried to look away from me but forced herself to behave properly and keep eye contact.

"No." I sat back down in his chair, hoping she would get the hint and realize that the conversation was over.

"But-"

"I said no." I continued writing my report, starting to ignore her.

Even though I did not look up, I knew she was still there. A minute passed, and Dove stood there, not knowing what to do.

Why didn't she just leave?

"You know what, Professor?" She sounded angry. "If you would've taken some of your precious time to read what I found out, you would know that there's a pattern behind his doing. Since he started working at-"

At that, I lost my nerves. Who did she think she was, talking to me like that? I jumped up from my chair again and started to yell.

"Stop it! I don't want to fucking hear it." Then I took the folder and practically threw it at Dove, making the papers spill out of it and fall to the floor.

"Hey, are you alright down there?"

Emily closed the door, to her office, behind her and came down the stairs into the bullpen. She looked concerned and had clearly heard me yell at the young girl in front of me.

"I'm okay, Emily, nothing to worry about."

Just now, I realized that Emily had actually aimed that question toward Dove.

She came to my desk and held out her hand to the white-blonde girl. "I'm SSA Emily Prentiss. And you are?"

She shook Emily's hand. "Dove Wallace." Emily now looked at me. "I- I am one of Professor Reid's students."

"Ex-students," I added bitterly and sat back into my chair, desperate to continue my paperwork.

Meanwhile, Dove looked at me, absolutely mortified. "W-What? Why?"

Giving her an icy stare, I looked up. I was sick of all these rich young girls from my classes getting everything they wanted only because they were daddy's girls.

Thinking they deserved everything they wanted and, if not getting it, would throw tantrums.

Dove had probably never in her life heard the word no, never had to work for anything. She looked pretty and said please and got whatever she wanted. Not this time, though.

"Because you purposefully ignored mine and Professor Miller's boundaries and privacy and disrespected me. And to be frank, you really get on my nerves. I will inform the Decan about your suspension from my class tomorrow."

"That's not fair!" she cried at me, and I let out a sarcastic huff.

"Well, life isn't fair, Miss Wallace."

Dove was already walking away when she stopped and turned around to me. Walking up to my desk again, her eyes were filled with tears of anger.

"You know what?" she snarled at me. "There will be another death soon, and that one will be on you. Just remember that if you finally wake up and realize you're not omniscient, Professor, I told you so and tried to warn you."

Then she stormed off to the elevator, entering it as JJ and Penelope left it, pressing a button a few times while biting her lip, trying hard to fight back her tears.

"Uhm...What was that?" JJ looked at Emily with confusion while Penelope watched the elevator doors close.

"I knew we should've ordered. You know what? That's my own fault! My horoscope told me to follow my guts," Garcia said dramatically, throwing her hands over her head.

As the two of them reached my desk, they helped Emily pick up the papers scattered on the floor. I just rubbed my face and let my hand run through my curly mess of hair. When guilt for my harsh words started to sink in, I looked up.

"Was I too mean, Emily?" I asked, watching her as she put the last papers back in the folder and looked at me seriously while the two blondes read through it.

"From what I heard? Yes. You kicked her from your class because she was worried about a potential murder."

Now Penelope made big eyes. "Was that the girl I checked the files for?... What was her name...Birdie?"

No. It was Dove, like the bird. The little symbol of peace and love. A little white bird.

Her hair was certainly fitting. The white-blonde, although shimmering a little golden, indeed remembered of the feathers of doves if thinking long enough about it.

"Dove," I corrected, and Penelope started to pout at me.

"Boy Wonder, why did you make her cry? You are supposed to be the hero of your guys' story!"

"We don't have a story, Penelope. She is just a student with a wild imagination." I frowned.

"What is even going on?" JJ looked at me, completely confused, and I sighed, annoyed.

"That girl was Dove Wallace, a student of mine. A girl in her dorm killed herself, and she refuses to believe that there wasn't foul play involved. She even made a folder, which frames a teaching colleague of mine."

The women all looked at me concerned, and I instantly knew what they were thinking.

"No. Garcia and I checked, and she is wrong about it." Emily raised her eyebrows.

"But we only looked at the suicide of that one girl..." Garcia answered quietly, now looking at Emily.

"Spence, did you look at the folder at all?" JJ had a concerned look on her face. "She has some really concerning things listed in here. Like that Christoph Arthur...and how she thinks that's your colleague Christian Miller."

She gave the folder to Emily, who looked through the pages JJ mentioned and then handed the single page to Penelope and the rest of the folder to me.

After all these years, we didn't need to talk to know what the other wanted anymore. We had learned to communicate with each other wordlessly. Garcia, with her pink glasses and matching cat ears, went straight to her office while I, the ever so smartly dressed man, quickly read through the pages. I then leaned back in my chair, massaging my temples.

Fuck.

"I messed up," I murmured, hoping to get empathetic looks and somebody telling me that I hadn't made a mistake.

But Emily and JJ looked at me, and while JJ reached out and patted my shoulder to comfort me, the dark-haired woman just nodded in total agreement to my words. Emily surely was the one mirror I could never escape.

I both loved and hated her for that; she forced me to look at my errors and see beyond my stubbornness and pride.

"How do I fix this?" I pulled my phone out and looked through the numbers. "Should I call her? Is it okay to just call your student? JJ?"

JJ just shrugged. "Maybe we should wait for Garcia and see what she finds first..."

As if she had just waited for that line, the lively blonde came running out of her office with a tablet.

"Okay, you guys. I found nothing and everything! This Professor Miller doesn't even have a birth certificate. But I found quite a bit on Christoph Arthur."

She showed us her tablet with some very old documents on it.

"His mother was a prostitute in the little town named Honington Corner. Father is unknown, and there are a lot of medical documents from a now-closed mental institution I gave myself access to.

"Now listen closely, he was in there from the age of thirteen until eighteen, because his mother was worried about him seriously hurting someone, after finding his diary in which he called himself 'The Sheppard'. He also had a list of townspeople and pets he had deemed necessary to be killed to protect his herd."

"Those were all people with mental illnesses or addictions, and the animals? I don't even wanna know, but really weird. After his eighteenth birthday, they had to let him go since he never hurt somebody, even though some doctors were clearly against that. And then he vanished.

"And you sweet babies might think that is the last bit of information I have for you, but no!" Penelope pushed her glasses back.

"I found a Christian Arthur who, like Miller, has no background but appeared right after Christoph vanished and went to school and university to become a teacher."

She flipped to some of the University's pictures of 'Christian Arthur', and I recognized his face. Lo and behold, I did.

This was a mistake I shouldn't have made. My own stubbornness, me, wanting to ignore the fact that there might be some truth to Dove's words, so I wouldn't have to spend also my BAU days at college, had made me blind.

What kind of agent was I that I let that happen?

What kind of person was I?

"I already had the system check, and yes, the same guy as our professor. His classmate was a man named Henry Miller, who had some recorded addiction issues and was on his way to sobriety AND Christian was responsible for him, since they shared a room, and he was his sobriety support. The year they both graduated, not only Henry but also Christian's mother killed themselves, and Christian vanished forever."

We just exchanged shocked looks. The accuracy of Dove's research was astounding.

Henry Miller, Christoph Arthur...I wanted to kick myself.

"I also checked all the suicides that happened since Professor Christian Miller started to teach at your college, Boy Genius. And just like...Dove wrote in her folder, there is a clear pattern of three young girls with mental illnesses spending a large amount of time at the counselor's office and killing themselves around the same time every year. Sadly for us, none of them are marked by the police as suspicious. The girls really seem to have committed suicide without a trace of foul play."

I was always so careful and aware of my surroundings, yet I had fucked up. I got too caught up to accept any other truth than my own.

If Morgan would've still been part of the team, he would've punched me, and I would've been very thankful for it. Although he would probably still punch me, should I tell him about it. Agent or not, it was his duty as 'big brother' to beat some sense into me.

"Well, the thing is, we can't do anything about it. We might have this connection about his changed name and that he was in a mental institution, but that's it. As you said, Penelope, he has never hurt anyone. At least it never got tracked down, and the girls were all mentally ill to some degree," Emily stated, much to my misliking.

"However.." a slight smile popped into her face. "I am going to talk to the police department responsible for those suicides and tell them that if another one happens, they have to contact us immediately. I'll tell them an anonymous caller reported some kind of suicide club or something like that. If they ask for help, we can go there and have a look ourselves. Also, we can get a grip of Miller and see if he is as dangerous as Dove suspects."

With that, Emily went up to her office, leaving Garcia, JJ, and me alone.

Coffee. I needed a coffee.

#spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid angst #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid smut #professor!reid #professor reid #professor spencer reid #prof!reid #post prison reid #spencer reid comfort #spencer reid slowburn #spencer reid x original female character

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ga-yuu · 3 years ago

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~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 14~

Chapter 13

--------Part 1--------

Kurama: “Yoshino. I’m reassessing your value. Apparently, you have a strength that I don’t know about.”

(Ah....)

Kurama’s warm fingertips touch my cheeks, and I slowly slide my face into his palm.

Kurama: “....I’m proud of you.”

(This...sounds like a huge compliment, coming from Kurama's mouth.)

I was surprised to find out that my heart was getting warmer.

Yoshino: "Are you...perhaps....do you want me to take that statement as a 'Thank you."

Kurama: "...............Think of it however you want."

I couldn't help but giggle when he so sounded out of tune.

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

1. You're stubborn...

2. You're strange...(+4/+4)

3. That's very much like Kurama...

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

Yoshino: "Hehe, you're strange..."

Kurama: "I could say the same for you.....And how long are you going to stand there and laugh? Let's go home already."

While I was still laughing, he pulled my arm forcing me to start walking, but----

Even his movements seemed slower and gentler than usual and I felt a small tingle in my chest.

..................

When we returned to the Rebels' mansion----

Kurama: "....? Why is everyone so noisy?"

Yoshino: "Yeah, why?"

(What happened?)

There are a few soldiers running around in a panic.

Rebel soldier 1: "Ah! There she is."

Rebel soldier 2: "...! I'll report to Benkei-sama!"

Yoshino: "Hm?"

As soon as one of the soldiers found me, a few of the other soldiers surrounded me quickly.

(Did I do something? or were they looking for me..!?)

Kurama: "What's going on?"

Rebel soldier 3: "Eeermm....were you with, Kurama-sama?"

And then----

Benkei: "Yoshino!! Where the hell did you run off too, huh?"

Yoshino: "I ran off?"

Hearing the unexpected words coming from Benkei's mouth, I looked up at Kurama.

Yoshino: "You didn't tell anyone, before taking me...?"

Kurama: "No. It was an emergency."

Yoshino: "So that's why...."

Benkei looked at both of us and sighed.

Benkei: "....So you were hanging out with Kurama?"

Kurama: "Yes. So correct your men, Benkei. This woman didn't run away. I forced her to run away with me."

Yoshino: "That sounds....wrong out of context."

Benkei: "That's right."

Benkei looks back at his men, awkwardly.

Benkei: "I apologize for bothering everyone. Apparently, her escape turned out to be a misunderstanding. Everyone, dismiss!"

Rebel soldiers: "YES!"

(I'm glad you believed in us...)

Kurama: "Thanks for the welcome but my main priority is putting this woman to bed."

---------Part 2---------

Kurama: "Thanks for the welcome but my main priority is putting this woman to bed."

Benkei: "HUH?"

Kurama: "I made her work for me today. Humans are fragile and I don't her to die from overwork."

Yoshino: "Eeehhh!!"

(Does that mean I and Heikichiro-san are the same for Kurama?)

(I know he's got the wrong idea, but Kurama is caring for us in his own way....so I don't want to stop him.)

Benkei: "What are you talking about Kurama? Tell me in detail."

Kurama: "Stop pulling my arm."

Benkei: "Shut up. You and I have are going to have a long chat about these problematic issues. But more importantly, Yoshino, come with us. Since you're involved with Kurama..."

Yoshino: "Oh, okay."

After that, we all went to Yoshitsune-sama to clear out the misunderstanding.

..........

And after that night------

Yoshitsune: "We're grateful for what you did, Yoshino. Thanks to you, one of Hiraizumi's people's lives has been saved. As a way of saying our thank you, today's party is in your honor."

Yoshino: "Thank you!"

(I'm surprised you're all doing this much for me.)

In front of me, were plates filled with delicious food and drinks.

Benkei: "I'm sorry about last night too. I didn't want you to be surrounded by soldiers."

Yoshino: "No, no, no. It's only natural if anyone's in your position."

Kurama: "Reflect on it, Benkei."

Benkei: "You should also apologize for taking her without telling us."

Yoichi: "Can we ignore all that and start taking out the sake, already?"

With that said, everyone took their seats.

Yoshitsune-sama raised his sake cup, which was already full.

Yoshitsune: "It's a toast to Yoshino."

Benkei and Yoichi: "Thank you!"

Kurama: "................"

Kurama also gently raises his cup without saying anything.

(.....I feel happy.)

(Even though what I did was only a part of my job, I'm happy that they're acknowledging me like this.)

I sipped the sake from my cup and a delicious sweet taste spreads my mouth.

Yoshino: "Mm, delicious."

Yoichi: "Isn't it? Here, have another one. If you like sake, I'll bring you to your room, every night."

Benkei: "Don't go drinking every night like this guy, Yoshino. Here, have some snacks too."

Yoshino: "Yes. Thank you."

Benkei's big hands started sorting snacks for me on a separate plate. Then he hands it to me.

Yoshino: "Yum. This is delicious too."

Yoshitsune: "It sure is...because Benkei was the one who made it."

-------Part 3--------

Yoshitsune: "It sure is....because Benkei was the one who made it."

Yoshino: "Really!?"

Benkei: "What's wrong? Can't picture me as a chef?

I looked at the Benkei, then I looked at the plates in his hands, and then I looked back at him again.

Yoshino: "Benkei that's cool!"

Benkei: "It's not that cool."

Yoshino: "No, no. It certainly is. It's nice that you have a talent for making something so elaborate. I could eat this every day."

Benkei: "........really?"

Yoichi: "Look, you made Benkei shy."

Benkei: "No, I'm not. This is just my way of saying thank you."

(I never thought, there will be a day, where I would have a peaceful conversation with the Rebels like this.)

I felt a pang of guilt when I suddenly thought about my Shogunate friends, but more than that, the warmth of the evening enveloped me.

Yoshitsune: "As Benkei said, I too felt that this party would be an awkward way to thank you. .....So I want to give you something else. Is there anything you desire? Yoshino."

(Anything, I desire...)

I looked back at Yoshitsune-sama while I was feeling confused.

Yoshino: "Actually, Kurama was the one who brought me there and I feel guilty for getting too much credit.....

Kurama: "Yoshino."

Yoshino: "Yes?"

Suddenly I hear my name being called by Kurama who blocked my words.

Kurama: "Don't make any snarky remarks at my liquor table."

Yoshino: "Ermm?"

Kurama: "The power of demons, that specializes in destroying things, is not suited to heal others. I wasn't able to save that old man, but you did. With your medical knowledge and skills. That is something you should be proud of."

(...! I never thought that Kurama would say so much about me.)

His words melted my heart.

Yoshitsune: "Kurama is right."

Yoichi: "I agree too."

Benkei: "Me too. I'm also happy that Kurama is starting to be respectful..." ← Proud mom

(.....Benkei smiling like a proud mom.)

Like that, everyone encourages me to think again.

Yoshino: "Then, I have one request, regarding Heikichiro-san, the silversmith. Will you hear me out?"

Yoshitsune: "I'm all ears."

Yoshino: "Like I said earlier, Heikichiro-san has a chronic illness. So, I'd like to make regular house calls and prescribe medication, if you will allow me."

Benkei and Yoichi: "!!"

Kurama: "........"

Yoshitsune: "......is that what you desire?"

--------Part 4-------

Yoshitsune: "......is that what you desire?"

Yoshino: "Yes. As for the rest, I am more than well provided for as a prisoner, both in clothing and food."

(What I wanted the most is freedom. But I can't really hope for that, can I?)

Yoichi: "Yoshino, you're such a softie."

Benkei: "......Idiot. It's called being kindhearted."

Benkei then stood up with a sake bottle, comes and sits in front of me.

(Benkei?)

Benkei: "Show me your cup."

Yoshino: "Ah, yes!"

Benkei slowly fills my sake cup while staring straight at me.

Benkei: "From now on I will respect you more and treat you not as a prisoner, but as a guest. If you will, I'll take care of you myself, okay?"

Yoshino(blushing): "Ummm...."

Yoichi: "Me too, me too. (Yoichi speaks in the third person and it's really cool and cute at the same time. I don't think I can bring the same amount of cuteness in my translations as much as the writer and his voice actor does.)

Yoichi-san also smiles and sits next to me with a sake cup.

Yoichi: "Leave the entertainment to us. Whether it's Sugoroku or taking a nap. You can ask us anything you want and live here freely."

Yoshino(blushing): "I'm happy...that you two think of me like that. Thank you very much."

Yoshitsune-sama was silent, but he was also staring and nodding at us as if to show he's agreeing with them.

(Looks like, the life of each one of the townspeople is more important to the Rebels than I thought.)

Kurama: "Yoshino." ← He's jealous.

Yoshino: "Hm?"

Kurama calls my name and I turn back to look at him.

Benkei: "Come on, Kurama. Don't just sit there, silent. Don't you have anything to say?"

Kurama: "Okay."

(What is he gonna say.....?)

Kurama: "Yoshino. If you're done talking, come here and pour me a drink."

Benkei: "Hey!" ← Not so proud mom.

Benkei's smile disappeared as if he was embarrassed by his child's remarks.

(Hehe...Kurama. As always, he's unreasonable.)

I was amazed how he stepped back from all this celebration as if it was all troublesome.

Benkei: "Can't you be a little nice and show some gratitude? Or at least give her a hug?"

Yoshino: "No, I'm fine....I'm okay with him like this..."

Yoichi: "But if you think about it, Kurama letting a woman pour him a drink is kinda....not normal, don't you think?"

Yoshitsune: "That's true. I have never seen Kurama asking someone to pour him a drink."

(Really!?)

Kurama: "You're all free to treat this woman as a guest or whatever. But don't forget that I was the one who brought her to Hiraizumi and since then I haven't given her ownership to anyone."

Kurama looks at me with his glowing red eyes and talks in a casual tone.

Kurama: "Come."

--------Part 5-------

Kurama: "Come."

(.......!)

Just that one word was enough to shake my heart so much.

(Oh, I see. I'm sure it doesn't mean anything profound to Kurama....)

(But you make it sound like I belong to you.)

Before I knew it, I was already moving towards Kurama as if I was drawn to him.

Yoshino(blushing): "Is this fine?"

I carefully poured the sake into his empty cup.

Kurama: "Yeah."

Kurama smiles in satisfaction and I blush even more.

Kurama: "....? Are you drunk too?"

Yoshino(tomato red): "Hm?"

His cool hand faintly touches my cheek.

Kurama: "Your face is completely red."

Yoshino(tomato red): "Ah! Mm...Maybe I am a little drunk..."

Kurama(smiling): "Heh, you're so lightweight."

(Mm....don't touch me like that...)

It really makes my heart beat faster.

While Kurama and Yoshino were in their own world. Yoshitsune and others were like-----

Yoshitsune: "I've never seen Kurama smiling like that."

Yoichi: "He doesn't seem to be aware of it at all."

Benkei: "Well, I hope he doesn't give Yoshino a hard time later...."

I didn't even know what they were talking about and the lively night went on.....

......................

Yoshitsune: "It's a good time to stop. I'm afraid we'll have to call it a night."

The party ends at Yoshitsune-sama's words.

(That was quick!)

Benkei: "Yoshino, you were drinking a lot. Are you okay?"

Yoshino(drunk): "Mm."

(He's right. I don't think I can walk straight....)

Yoichi: "Okay Kurama. You were the one giving her drink after drink, so you're responsible for helping her walk to her room."

Kurama: "Why?"

Yoshino(drunk): "No it's okay....I can walk by myself....."

I smiled at Kurama who instead looks down at me with a face that was screaming 'Why should I do everything?'

(I wish I could have said something more clever, but my mind is a bit foggy.)

Kurama: ".....Fine. I'll take her."

Yoshino(drunk): "Hm?"

(Now he's okay with it? But why?)

.......................

After leaving the party hall, Kurama and I walk down the corridor together.

Yoshino(drunk): "Why did you change your mind all of a sudden?"

Kurama: "............................Because you're making that dangerous face."

(Dangerous face? What do you mean?)

Kurama: "That dangerous face."

Yoshino(drunk): "W-What?"

Kurama walks and stops in front of me. His both hands moved to hold my face.

(So close....!)

I instantly looked away from his beautiful face.

Kurama: "You're cheeks are red and eyes are moist...Don't you realize that this is the same face you make when I play with you?"

(.......Mm.)

Yoshino(drunk): "Anyone who is weak to alcohol looks like this....it doesn't have anything to do with....what you just told..."

Kurama: "I'm talking about you now. That's all I'm interested in at the moment."

His deep voice tickles my ears and my body heats up in excitement.

(Maybe I'm too drunk....that I can't think properly...)

I became more sensitive to Kurama's touch and his words.

Yoshino(drunk): "Let..go..."

When I started feeling impatient, I tried to push his hand back.

(Woahhh)

My legs were wobbly and I almost lost my footing.

Kurama: ".....What the hell are you even trying to do?"

Yoshino(drunk): "Sorry..."

He quickly supports my body instead of moving away and held me close to his chest.

(Please don't hear my heartbeat....Please don't hear my heartbeat....PLEASE!!)

Kurama: "You're so annoying."

When I looked up at Kurama----

(.......!)

Yoshino(blushing): "Wait! What are you....?"

One hand was slipped under my knees and the other hand held my back, picking me up.

Kurama: "No more waiting."

Then, Kurama started walking.

Yoshino(blushing): "Ah...umm...am I not heavy? You can put me down...."

(Actually, I'm embarrassed. So please put me down!)

Kurama: "It's not the first time I've held you. So just shut up and let me take care of you."

Yoshino(blushing): "Yes..."

......................

Kurama: "We're here."

Yoshino(blushing): "Thank you..."

(He carried me to my room without complaining at all.)

I thanked him in a quiet voice as he lowered me into the bed with unexpected politeness.

Kurama: "Now, drink this."

Yoshino(blushing): "Yes."

I received a glass of water and quietly sipped it.

(I can't believe he's doing this all for me.)

Yoshino(blushing): "......Are you also drunk? Kurama."

Kurama: "What?"

Yoshino: "No. It's just....you're being surprisingly kind to me. You never were before..."

Kurama: "Did you get drunk so much that you're seeing things now? How do any of these things I did counts as kindness? I was just----"

Yoshino: "Just?"

Kurama: ".....making sure that my things don't break."

He takes the glass from my hand and places it on the nearby shelf.

Yoshino(blushing): "But."

Kurama: "Shut up now."

He gently combed my messy bangs and then, his neat face slowly approaches.....

(Ah.....)

He drops a kiss on my forehead and my heart skips a beat.

Kurama: "Humans are annoying. But, you make me do the strangest things. Like listening to idle talking, watching out for weak people and offering them a hand."

Chapter 15

#ikemen series #ikemen genjiden #ikemen genjiden kurama #cybird ikemen #cybird #cybird otome #otome #ikemen mc #main story translations

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etherealhoneybee777 · 3 years ago

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My first ever fanfiction! (Work in Progress)

Summary:

Mikey has been feeling depressed for weeks, but mean comments about his cooking send him over the edge. Leo comforts Mikey and talks to him about his feelings, and he realizes the impact that words can have on his little brother.

I wrote this fanfiction because I have a history of mental illness, and I project pretty hard onto Mikey. I wanted to see what it would be like if Mikey was depressed, and how his brothers would help him cope. Please excuse the potential bad writing! This is the first short story I’ve written in a long time :) TW for depression.

Link: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13941733/1/Small-Words-Tumbling

The fanfiction:

Small Words, Tumbling

Mikey was curled up on his bed, watching small slivers of light stream through the blinds of his window.

Worthless. Screw-up. Good-for-nothing. Waste of space. Everyone would be fine if you were gone.

He had spent the better part of the day in his room, only coming out to train and prepare meals. Although his brothers would often make fun of the disturbing things he would eat—like anchovy jellybean pizza-Mikey knew that they relied on him to cook practically everything, since they were hopeless in the kitchen. Mikey loved cooking because it made him feel valuable to his brothers. Mikey always had the unshakable feeling that he wasn't as good as the rest of his family. Donnie was a tech genius. Leo was the leader. Raph was a badass fighter. And Master Splinter was, well, Master Splinter. The rest of the family had something specific and valuable to contribute, and all Mikey could do was cook. Cooking was Mikey's talent. No one else in his family could do it. Sure, he wasn't the best fighter, but if Mikey didn't cook, no one could eat. Mikey had been feeling deeply depressed and worthless for months now, but the fact that he could cook made him feel valuable to his family. It was the only thing that made him feel valuable anymore, if he was being honest.

That's probably why what happened that morning hurt Mikey so bad.

That morning, Mikey strode into the kitchen confidently. He had the best idea in the world: grape French toast. Grape soda was delicious. French toast was delicious. So why not combine them?

And so Mikey labored in the kitchen, stirring flour, egg yolks, butter, and sugar until it made a smooth mixture. Then, he pulled the grape soda out of the fridge and poured a generous amount into the mixing bowl.

"Yeah!" Mikey screamed to the empty room, "This is gonna be awesome!"

Thirty minutes later, there were four plates piled high with vivid purple French toast. Mikey pulled out a can of whipped cream and a bottle of syrup and placed them on the counter next to the plates.

"Hey guys, it's time to eat!" Mikey bellowed into the layer. Raph, Donnie, and Leo, who had been watching some morning Space Heroes, got up and sluggishly walked to the kitchen.

"Thank God, I'm starving," Raph said, rubbing his plastron. As he walked into the kitchen though, his slight smile turned into a scowl. "Mikey," he growled, looking at the purple pieces of toast, "What the fuck is this?"

"It's grape French toast, dude!" Mikey said as he tried to hand the stacked plate to Raph. Suddenly, Mikey lost grip of the plate, and three pieces of grape French toast went flying towards Raph's lap.

"Seriously, Mikey?" Raph sneered. Then, he picked up a piece of the purple French toast and waved it in the air, "Whatever this is…it's disgusting!" Raph lowered his voice to a hesitant grumble. "I just wish we'd order takeout instead of letting this genius cook. Honestly, I don't know what to do with him sometimes."

Mikey felt hurt blaze through his chest, for reasons he couldn't explain. He was used to being insulted by Raph, even though he was grumpier than usual today, but no one ever insulted Mikey's breakfasts. Sure, Mikey's cheesy jokes were often met with annoyance, and he was often belittled for being unfocused during fights, but no one ever insulted breakfast. Breakfast was Mikey's one sanctuary, the one place where the things he did could be appreciated.

Mikey looked at Donnie and Leo for some reassurance, but he couldn't find any. Leo was silently flicking his pieces of toast into the trashcan and reaching for a granola bar. Donnie was reluctantly sniffing his pieces of toast but refusing to take a bite.

"Maybe you should go back to cooking the regular breakfasts, you know?" Donatello said, not unkindly. Mikey's heart felt like it was about to burst as he watched Donnie scrape his toast into the trashcan and wash his plate.

"I'm sorry, guys," Mikey said, looking at the ground sheepishly, "Eggs and bakies tomorrow, I promise!" he continued with forced cheer.

Raph grumbled as he walked out of the room and sat on the couch to continue watching Space Heroes. Donnie scurried off into his lab. Leo moved to walk out, but not before he caught a glimpse of the hurt in Mikey's bright blue eyes.

"Hey, Mikey," Leo said, lips bent downwards in concern, "Raph is just a little grumpy today."

But the damage had already been done. As Leo turned away, Mikey's eyes started stinging, and all of Mikey's negative thoughts came flooding to the surface. You're not good enough. You're not as good as your brothers. You can't get a single thing right. Screw-up. They would never miss you if you were gone. Mikey ran to his room, making sure that his brothers couldn't see the tears welling in his eyes.

He stayed in his room for most of the day, only coming out to train. When Mikey trained that day, he only spoke to answer questions and say Hai sensei. He didn't see his brothers trade looks of concern with each other. When training was over, Mikey walked briskly back into his room.

"What's wrong with Mikey?" Raph asked, a tone of annoyance veiling his concern.

"He'll probably come out and tell us soon enough," Leo replied, looking anxiously towards Mikey's room.

Mikey sat in his room for hours. It was so impossibly lonely, not being with his brothers, but how could he face them now? He wasn't good enough, and he didn't want to be a burden to them. He had cried his eyes out for an hour, until he felt like he couldn't cry anymore. It was so stupid that he felt this way over an offhand rude comment Raph made about his cooking. But, the truth was that Mikey had been feeling pretty worthless for weeks, and Raph's comment seemed to validate Mikey's feelings. Mikey desperately wished he could be someone else, someone focused and attentive during battle, someone who knew how to talk to people. He wanted people to laugh with him, but they only laughed at him. Like he was some big joke.

Mikey didn't want to be a joke. He wanted to be a leader, a badass, someone with a purpose. But he was just a burden. A screw up. And his brothers were left to pick up the pieces. Honestly, they would be better off if he wasn't around.

Mikey slowly felt himself sinking deeper in his bed as his thoughts consumed him. He almost didn't hear the slow, methodical knock at the door.

"Mikey, can I come in?"

Leo.

Mikey didn't answer. He had started crying again, and besides that, he just really didn't want to talk to Leo. Mikey was surprised when the door squeaked open and golden light filled his room anyway.

"Mikey!" Leo's eyes widened as he saw the tear tracks on Mikey's face. "Oh my god."

Mikey felt Leo place his weight on the bed. He turned to look at Leo's eyes. Cool and calm. But Mikey could tell that beneath his collected exterior, Leo was panicking.

"What's wrong, buddy?" Leo said, a little too gingerly. Leo was used to comforting Mikey after his nightmares when they were young, but, now that they were older, Leo no longer knew the words to make his brother feel better.

Mikey stared at Leo. He felt like there was a huge blank expanse between them, like a black sky with no stars. Mikey desperately wanted to reach out and close the divide, but Leo would never understand how Mikey felt. Leo was a fearless leader. He always knew what to do, and people took him seriously when it counted. Meanwhile, Mikey felt that he was the last person anyone would trust in an intense situation.

Leo furrowed his brow in concern at Mikey's silence. "Talk to me, Mikey. Was it the thing that Raph said this morning? We didn't mean to hurt your feelings by not eating the breakfast you made for us."

Mikey shifted his eyes to the floor. "Uh…it is and isn't about what Raph said this morning," he said finally. "I just…I don't know. I just feel like everyone has their thing, you know? Like you're the leader, and Donatello is the smart one. Raph is super good at fighting and Master Splinter has taught us everything we know. But no one really needs me. And I always screw up our fights, too." Mikey's mouth felt dry now that he had said what he had been feeling for months out loud. Surprised that it came out that fast. But he had wanted to say it, needed to say it.

Leo's bright blue eyes widened in surprise. "Mikey, we do need you." He put a comforting hand on Mikey's shoulder. "And your thing is being Mikey. The team wouldn't be the same without you. And sure, you've messed up our fights sometimes, but you've saved us more times than I can remember," he looked down and continued gravely, "We are all equally valuable in this family."

Mikey refused to look at Leo. Leo's words were comforting, but for some reason, Mikey's throat felt like it was filling with clay. It was only when his vision blurred that he noticed he was crying. The crying quickly evolved into full-on sobbing. It felt like a torrential storm, punctured only by the choked sounds of his shaky breaths.

"Oh god, oh god. Mikey…"

Before Mikey knew it, his head was buried in Leo's chest, and his body was wrapped tightly in strong green arms. Leo rubbed Mikey's head, which he usually only did when Mikey was seriously injured. Mikey should have felt closer to Leo, but he felt the black, starless expanse between them getting wider and wider.

Mikey pulled away, wiping his eyes. "You just wouldn't understand."

Leo's eyes flashed with hurt, but he quickly replaced it with his signature practiced calmness. "Wouldn't understand what?"

"You're the person that everyone needs. You're our leader. If you were gone, nothing would ever be the same. You don't understand being worthless. You don't understand what it's like to be the kind of person that could disappear forever, and no one would ever miss. That's my life, dude," Mikey said, his voice strained from all the crying.

Mikey looked at Leo. And he was surprised to see that the pantomimed calm patience that usually occupied Leo's eyes be replaced by an intense, gripping fear.

"You're not worthless, Mikey. You mean so much to all of us," Leo said. "I love you, little brother" he continued. Mikey could tell that wasn't all that was on his mind.

Leo paused a long time before finally speaking again.

"Mikey…you haven't ever thought of hurting yourself, have you?" Leo's voice was shaky and deeply sad. Even though Mikey had been crying, for some reason Leo sounded sadder than he was.

"No," Mikey answered quickly and with certainty. Truthfully, he had never even considered it, at least, not in any real way.

"Promise?"

"Promise." Mikey gave him a slight smile.

Leo pulled him into a second embrace, squeezing Mikey even harder than he did last time. This time, Mikey didn't pull away. He just stayed there, leaning against Leo's neck, feeling a million times lighter than before. The black expanse between the two brothers had vanished, and he felt closer to Leo than he ever did.

"Mikey…" Leo started, and then paused. Mikey could tell by the strained choke of his words that Leo had started crying.

"Mikey," Leo began again, "If anything ever happened to you, I would miss you for the rest of my life."

#tmnt 2012 #tmnt michelangelo #tmnt mikey #michelangelo fanfiction

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quicksilversquared · 4 years ago

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The Wavering Peahen: Chapter 6

When Nathalie started feeling oddly ill again, both she and Gabriel were worried that the Peacock Miraculous might somehow (impossibly) be to blame again.

So naturally, they pick someone else to be the Peacock for a bit. You know, as a test subject. Except the new Peacock… doesn’t exactly know that.

links in the reblog

Marinette was starting to think that Hawkmoth had officially gone around the bend.

For months after the Miracle Queen attack, Hawkmoth and Mayura had hammered at the superheroes, both of them plus the regular akuma and a sentimonster showing up to the battles. The superheroes had struggled to adapt, sacrificing their free time and fun activities to find and train new allies to help them as needed and doubling up on Miraculous almost as often as not to have access to more powers. They had been managing- sometimes only by the skin of their teeth- but it was taking a lot of effort.

And then, all of a sudden, Mayura vanished, and Pavona took her place next to Hawkmoth.

The change by itself would have been odd enough even if Pavona was an equally good fighter as Mayura. But Pavona was a poor fighter and even worse strategist. Her sentimonsters were easier to fight than Mayura's, and her outfit- while fancy- was a piece of cake to grab onto, either to yank her backward (or sideways) out of an attack or to fling her several blocks away, away from the fight and out of their hair for several minutes while the supervillain picked herself back up and straightened her outfit out.

(The Ladyblog had had an absolute field day with how ridiculous and ill-suited for fighting Pavona's outfit was. Marinette had worried that it would make Pavona reconsider her transformation and choose something more practical, but either the supervillain was unaware of the Ladyblog or was just so generally inept that she wasn't willing to sacrifice fashion for practicality.)

In most cases, Marinette would have assumed that Pavona had stolen the Miraculous from Mayura, and that was the reason for the change. But it was obvious that Pavona wouldn't have been able to overpower Mayura to start with, and Hawkmoth had clearly been anticipating the change. Right now, her assumption was that something had happened to Mayura- maybe she had died in an accident or something, she didn't know- and Pavona was Hawkmoth's only choice for an ally.

To be honest, Marinette was of the opinion that Hawkmoth would have been better off fighting on his own. Pavona only seemed to get in the way, and then she had to be saved before the superheroes could grab for her Miraculous. Pavona hadn't come out on the battlefield again after one particularly idiotic blunder, but considering that Mayura hadn't returned and the Peacock's sentimonsters were still showing up, it was more than likely that Pavona was just sulking in a lair somewhere for a bit before trying battlefield fighting again.

And now, after weeks- no, months- of Hawkmoth going after the superheroes with increased ferocity, the attacks had suddenly stopped. There had been nothing for the past four days.

Not that Marinette was complaining! Being able to attend school without having to dash out was really nice. It was just odd, that was all.

"Oh, Lila's looking like she might be finally getting better! I'm glad, she was looking so ill at the end of last week!"

Marinette blinked, pulling herself out of her thoughts and glancing over at Alya. "Hm?"

Alya nodded towards the front of the classroom, where Lila was straggling across the front of the classroom. "Lila caught a cold or something last week and she was so exhausted. She couldn't rest very well, since she's been pushing herself to get all of this work for her charities done before this deadline and there's been, like, so many emergencies that she's had to deal with all in a row. We've all been trying to help out so she won't get behind, but she's really been struggling. So I'm glad that she's feeling at least a little better now!"

For once, it was easy not to sigh in exasperation. Instead, Marinette frowned, glancing towards Lila as she headed for the back of the classroom.

The charities were a lie, of course. They always had been and always would be. Lila was too selfish and self-centered to even think about spending her time and money helping others. But the lie definitely got Lila a lot of (undeserved) admiration and offers for help. Mysteriously, Lila could never use the help with the charity directly- Marinette hadn't bothered to hear her excuses for that- but she could use the help when it came to things like homework. Normally, Marinette would assume that Lila had just wanted her classmates to offer to do all of her homework because she felt a little under the weather.

This time, though, Marinette had noticed that Lila seemed a bit under the weather, and it hadn't seemed faked. In fact, it had been pretty obvious once she looked a little closer that Lila had applied makeup to hide how bad she was feeling. And that was strange.

Sure, Lila seemed to have made a little bit of a recovery, but Marinette couldn't help but feel a bit curious about the whole situation. Downplaying her troubles wasn't Lila's style at all, and Marinette had to wonder what was going on. Because something had to be going on, unless Lila had gotten a personality transplant overnight.

(Considering that she was still lying about her charity work, Marinette doubted that.)

"I wonder if there's something going around," Adrien commented quietly to Marinette as Alya and Nino broke off into their own little conversation. "Nathalie was sick a couple weeks ago, and I've never seen her so drained. She's been getting better, but she still gets these little relapses sometimes." He glanced towards the back of the classroom, his brow furrowed. "Maybe Lila picked it up at one of the photoshoots or something."

"I hope it doesn't spread, then," Marinette said. She chanced a glance back at Lila, who was clearly half-heartedly engaging in conversation with a few of their classmates. "Being tired and miserable for over a week sounds miserable."

Miserable, and not very safe. Marinette had had to be Ladybug when she had a bit of a cold more than one time, with a stuffed nose and a sore throat, and that had been bad enough. It hadn't affected her fighting that much, she thought, but combine that with how being tired during late night and early-morning fights affected her...

"She probably shouldn't have been coming to school," Adrien added after a moment. "It's a bit odd that most of the time she's so eager to skip, but the one time when she actually has a legitimate excuse to stay home, she doesn't."

Marinette nodded, glancing backwards again. "Yeah, I was thinking the same thing."

The lack of akumas continued for the rest of the week, and Marinette got to get caught up with- well, everything- for the first time in ages. She worried that Hawkmoth was planning something, of course, but there wasn't really much that she and Chat Noir could do about it besides patrolling every evening in search of trouble.

Well, patrolling and going over what little information they had about the Miraculous powers and potions, comparing notes about what Master Fu had taught them. Thankfully she had gotten copies of pretty much all of Master Fu's translations before he was caught, but she hadn't had the chance to go through all of them and truly figure out the extent of the information at her fingertips. She and Chat Noir had been finding hidden crannies- ones where they wouldn't get spotted and where they couldn't be overheard or snuck up on- and going over the notes, puzzling over cryptic clues and tossing ideas for interpretations back and forth. Maybe it was a nice change of pace from battling akumas (and it was definitely something that they had to do anyway), but it was also difficult and frustrating and slow-going. Things had to be interpreted and then sorted into some semblance of order so that they would be able to find the notes again when they needed them.

So by the time Saturday rolled around, marking a full week without the barest whisper of an akuma, Marinette was more than happy to set her schoolwork and the Miraculous notes aside (the latter locked up in a box that was both secure and hidden), bake a batch of cookies, and package them up with some rejected pastries from the bakery to bring to their class picnic at the park. It sounded like a great opportunity to relax and focus on something else for a change.

Their classmates trickled in, coming in pairs and trios, laden with food. Thankfully it looked like people had brought dishes instead of just treats this time, so they would have a proper meal instead of just sugar, sugar, and more sugar. It was a far cry from their first class picnic, where almost all of them ended up feeling a bit ill from the number of sweets that they had eaten.

Rose, bless her, had even brought salad. She had put in a fair amount of work, clearly, tossing in more veggies and croutons and bringing a container of homemade dressing to make it more interesting.

Everyone milled around, talking and relaxing in the warm sun. Marinette wandered between her classmates, chatting with pretty much everyone before gradually circling back around to hang with Alya, Nino, and Adrien again. Maybe she got to hang out with them most often, just by virtue of where they sat in class, but they were also her best friends. They could talk for forever about nothing in particular, and it was nice to have that.

Ten minutes after the bulk of their class had arrived, Lila finally showed up. And in typical Lila fashion, of course she had to make her entrance loud.

"Oh my god, you guys, you'll never guess what my mom did for me! It was so sweet of her!"

"Oh, what now?" Marinette grumbled as people started to flock towards Lila as though they were being drawn by a magnet. "Can't we go one day without her making up some ridiculous story to tell?"

"I'll go listen in," Adrien volunteered, placing one hand on her shoulder. "Just to see what she's up to. If you want to, uh..."

"I'll go organize things on the picnic table so that I don't have to listen to her," Marinette offered, picking up what he was going to say. It was obvious to anyone with eyes (and critical thinking skills) that listening to Lila blather on made Marinette's blood pressure rocket up. "And then, uh, do some cloud-watching?"

Adrien snorted. "Honestly, that sounds way more appealing than listening to Lila. Anything is, really, but..." He glanced towards the growing group around Lila. "I'd rather not have to hear about what Lila was saying and showing off secondhand, not when everyone believes everything she says."

Before Marinette could agree, Adrien had darted off, lingering on the edges of the group. He blended in pretty naturally, clearly going for a 'just-here-because-Nino-is' look and succeeding fairly well. Before anyone could notice that she wasn't joining the rest of the group, Marinette wandered off to rearrange the table and make it not quite so chaotic. Since Lila seemed to be settling in for a long story-telling session, Marinette took her sweet time in surveying everything that people had brought (Lila, she couldn't help but notice, had opted not to contribute) and figuring out the best way to arrange them. Shapes of containers had to be taken into consideration, of course, and then similar things- the salads, the chips- could be put together.

It made the table much neater and meant that nothing was in danger of falling off anymore.

Lila was still going strong with her stories, so Marinette turned her attention skyward for all of a minute (cloud-watching, it turned out, was not particularly interesting for an extended period of time) and then down to her phone. Finally, finally, Lila stopped talking and everyone broke up into their little friend groups. Marinette headed over to Adrien's side at once, something that was made much easier by the fact that Alya and Nino were still talking to Lila.

"So what's the latest nonsense?"

Adrien startled for a moment, then relaxed once he realized that it was Marinette next to him. "Oh, gosh. I don't know how, but Lila's come up with pictures to go along with her stories. She has selfies with Jagged Stone, Clara Nightingale, Prince Ali, Ladybug..."

"She- what?" For once, Marinette was caught completely off guard. "She has photos? But none of those stories are true!"

"My guess is Photoshop. That, or she wanted to go low-tech, posters and life-sized print-outs." Adrien made a face, glancing around as he did to make sure that they weren't being overheard. "I don't know why she went all-in like that all of a sudden. Like, it didn't seem as though people were believing her any less than they were when she first showed up."

"Maybe she just wanted to head off that possibility before anyone caught on." Which was annoying, really. Marinette had just been about ready to try for another round of pointing out inconsistencies in Lila's stories to Alya, abet a more subtle round, and now that Lila had "evidence" to back up her claims...

Well, that made things a lot more difficult. She would have to abandon subtlety altogether and do something much more direct, like calling up Jagged Stone and having him come in or somehow approaching Lila as Ladybug when Alya was nearby and calling her out for the Photoshop.

She really should have just nipped the entire problem in the bud when Lila first showed up and gone to Alya's apartment to ask about the video of her "best friend" on the same day that it was posted, but it was a little too late to do that now.

"It makes me wonder if she's setting up to do something bigger," Adrien murmured, keeping his voice low. Maybe none of their classmates were lingering close by, but they didn't want to be overheard. "Then she would want to have a solid base. If she validates all of her previous lies, then she can tell a bigger one and not run as big of a risk of people doubting her."

Marinette nodded. Yeah, she was afraid of that, too. She also wouldn't be surprised if Lila decided to make up something about her to get rid of the dissenting voice for once and for all. If she tried, though, Marinette was ready.

There was a lock on her school bag, and another on her locker. Tikki had been told to keep an eye out and to destroy anything that Lila tried to plant. Marinette had even bought a recorder, in case she ever found herself alone with Lila and no witnesses again.

Of course, Lila might very well decide to take the approach of making Marinette look like the bad guy by bringing attention to the fact that she didn't believe any of Lila's stories, and then try to alienate her friends that way. Marinette wouldn't let that happen- she'd just use her connections to discredit Lila if it got that bad- but it wouldn't be particularly pleasant, either.

"Maybe she wants to skip again and the teachers are starting to doubt her," Marinette suggested, keeping her voice just as quiet as Adrien's. "So she's going more indirect this time by showing off her pictures to classmates but not the teacher- except no, it would make more sense than to show the photos off at school. Then she wouldn't have to depend on the teachers overhearing classmates just happening to mention the photos."

"True. Which suggests that whatever she's planning, it's more important that our classmates all believe her." Adrien sighed. "I miss the days before Lila showed up. I didn't feel like I had to keep an ear open to what was going on and what was being talked about all the time."

Marinette nodded. Yeah, things had been a lot more simple before Lila returned. Maybe she still had to deal with Chloe's nonsense, but at least Chloe hadn't been trying to frame her for things, just make her life difficult in typical bully fashion.

"I guess we'll find out what she's up to soon enough," Marinette said with a sigh. She wasn't looking forward to it. "I almost wish I could see the photos without Lila there. I bet there's something off about them that I'd be able to point out, but she's hardly going to hand over her phone and let me pick them apart."

Adrien perked up. "Oh! Lila sent her Ladybug photos to Alya to post on the Ladyblog. Maybe it's not all of the photos, but you could at least look over those ones."

Marinette grinned. That was a start, at least. Of course, she would have to be really careful when bringing up any problems with the photos because otherwise she wouldn't even get her friends to actually look at the issue before they jumped down her throat about how she was being so mean doubting poor Lila, but maybe she could pose any concerns as a question or something.

"Hey, Marinette, come check this out!"

"I'll wait here and if Nino and Alya got anything more out of Lila once they finish chatting with her," Adrien said when Marinette hesitated to respond, not fully willing to give up their discussion so early. He nudged her towards Max. "There'll be plenty of time to try to figure out what Lila's up to later."

Marinette nodded, stepping away from Adrien and heading across the grass towards Max. He was grinning, looking eager about something.

"I would love some feedback on some of my proposed designs for the akuma villains that I'll be rolling out as part of my upcoming game update," Max told Marinette as she drew closer. He pulled a folder out of his bag and opened it, pulling out a sheath of papers. "Both the villain costume design and the powers, really. I want to make them a bit less, ah, one-dimensional, I suppose. Less predictable. I had some ideas, but would definitely be open to any improvements before I code them all in."

Marinette perked up. Oh, that sounded interesting, and something that sounded loads more interesting than discussing Lila and her nonsense. "Sure! How many akumas are you thinking of adding?"

"I thought ten to fifteen in the next release, then maybe do regular releases after that on a more regular basis with five or so akumas per release, just to keep things fresh." Max adjusted his glasses, angling the paper stack so that Marinette could see the top design. "Of course, how long I can do that for depends on Hawkmoth making new akumas and not simply recycling powers over and over, but at the moment I have quite a list of supervillains that I could use."

"That sounds like a lot of work, but very cool," Marinette told him, accepting the top paper. She scanned the design, grinning when she noticed how well Max had done at getting the details right. "This is so cool! Was it hard getting all of the details?"

"Nathaniel assisted with the character modeling," Max told her, shuffling around so he could stand next to her and see the page as well. "Which really helped bring the characters to life."

"It's really fantastic!" Marinette glanced through the next few papers, impressed. It was a real step up from Max's original character designs, which had been detailed enough for people to be able to identify the characters but nowhere near this quality. He had focused less on the design and more on the coding for the actual play. "Have the old characters gotten the same design upgrade?"

"Yes, that was what the last update was. I wanted to make sure that everything was perfect and there wouldn't be any mismatch between the old characters and the new ones." Max shuffled a step closer. "So, what do you think about this character?"

Ten minutes of character review later, Marinette left Max scribbling down notes in the margins of his character pages and headed back across the park to where her friends were hanging out. Halfway there, she was stopped in her tracks by the sound of Lila's voice, loud and pointed and annoying.

"You missed out on seeing my pictures earlier," Lila said loudly, smugness coming across loud and clear in her voice. "Which is a pity, really. There were some really nice ones that my mom recovered off of my old phone. If you wanted, I could still show you a couple."

Marinette snorted at that. As if. "So you've taken up Photoshop as a hobby, I take it?" she asked, thoroughly unimpressed. "And I think I'll pass on looking at the photos. If I wanted to see something that wasn't real, I'd go watch an action hero movie. That would at least be enjoyable."

"You're just so certain that they're doctored," Lila sniffed, still insufferably smug. "Do you know how jealous that makes you sound? It's not a very attractive look on you at all."

Marinette had to roll her eyes at that. Jealous? Why on earth would she be jealous of Lila? "Puh-leeze. There was a photo of me and Jagged Stone on the cover of Metal Lord not even a year ago, and I've got actual selfies of me and Clara Nightingale on my phone from when she was doing her music video. I don't need Photoshop. Some of us actually have the connections that you pretend to have. If anyone is jealous, it's you."

With that, she turned on her heel and left before Lila could say anything else, continuing her journey towards Alya and Nino and Adrien. Alya was busily tapping away on her phone, clearly in Ladyblog article mode.

She would probably have the photos and whatever article she was writing up done by the evening and posted with the photos, and then Marinette could look at them. With any luck, there would be something obvious wrong with them, and maybe- maybe she could post under an anonymous name and bring up the fact that the photos were clearly faked then?

"Max sure looks serious about something," Adrien commented as Marinette returned, settling down on the grass between him and Alya. "I don't know anyone else who would bring a file folder to a picnic- well, anyone else our age, at least."

"He's gearing up to start work on a new release for his video game," Marinette told him. She was really excited to see it, actually. Hopefully she would actually have the time to play. "Or, well, he's started work, but he wanted to get some input on how to make it better. He has twenty new akumas lined up to create, and they all look fantastic!"

Adrien perked up. "Oh, cool! I saw that the graphics took a huge leap forward with the last release, which was really nice. Before, it was very, ah..." He tipped his head to one side, considering. "Very early-game-y? But now the graphics match the coding, which is nice. I know there was a huge spike in interest once that upgrade came through."

"As there should be!" There had been several akuma-and-superhero-themed games that had come out since she and Chat Noir hit the scene, but in Marinette's (completely unbiased) opinion, Max's was one of the best. "We were talking about the powers that the akumas get and how he's working on making them a little more realistic and less predictable. Thankfully he doesn't have to puzzle it out through trial and error for each akuma. Or, well, at least he really only had to do a bunch of puzzling for the first one, and then each one after that only needs a few small tweaks here and there."

"I can't wait for that to come out. Did Max say when he's expecting to have that ready to roll out?"

Marinette shook her head. She had asked too, but Max had said that there were way too many variables to promise anything yet. "I think he's still early on enough in the process that it's impossible to predict. Everything could go really smoothly..."

"...or the code could tie itself into knots and take weeks to find the issue," Adrien finished. "Ah, I suppose I could be patient."

"I wonder if Max would be interested in giving out some preview pictures before everything is ready to go," Nino chimed in. "I know Alya's mentioned his game on the Ladyblog before, but it never hurts to drum up some more interest. Right, babe?"

He got a vague grunt in response.

"Babe?"

"I think she's a bit focused at the moment," Adrien said with a laugh when Alya didn't respond again. "We'll bug her later. I think Max's game is a pretty cool thing to put on the Ladyblog."

"Though not as cool as Lila!" Nino exclaimed. "I mean, I guess her friendship with Ladybug is old news now, but Ladybug doesn't pose with civilians that often, not unless there's an event or something. And the pictures- Marinette, you missed that! Lila's mom got a specialist to recover a bunch of her photos from off of her old phone that got destroyed, and she was showing everyone. It was cool to get to see the inside of Prince Ali's palace! Like, there weren't a ton of pictures of the inside, just what we could see in the background of her photos with him, but still!"

"Hm," Marinette said, completely noncommittal. "Pity. I had to make sure that none of the food was going to fall off of the picnic table. It kind of looked like Kim might have arranged it last- there was a really precarious pile of stuff. One pan was hanging halfway off of the table and the only reason why it hadn't fallen yet was because something else was piled on top of the portion that was actually on the table."

Adrien laughed. "That sounds like Kim. And yet there was plenty of space on the table, it seems? Nothing is about to fall off now."

"Yeah, it was just that dishes were piled every which way and there were a lot of oddly-shaped gaps between..." Marinette trailed off, squinting across the park. Lila was headed towards Rose and Max and Juleka, but something seemed... off. She didn't seem entirely steady on her feet for a moment, half-stumbling before catching herself and continuing.

Huh. Was Lila still sick? She had seemed mostly fine at school on Friday, and for most of the rest of the week, too. Marinette would have guessed that Lila was just trying to get attention again, except that stumble was...muted. Almost like Lila was trying to hide it.

...maybe she just didn't want to take attention away from her faked photos? The attention from that was sure to be better than any attention that she could get from being sick, even if Lila had clearly enjoyed the attention that she had gotten during her- what? One, two, maybe three weeks of being sick?

That... that was a long time to be sick.

Marinette kept watching Lila as she sat down, almost immediately joining in the conversation. She seemed fine now, but Marinette was positive that she hadn't imagined that stumble.

"-lots of tasty dishes," Nino was saying, though Marinette had largely tuned him out. "A lot of things that I want to try. The pastries you brought look great- and did you see the quiches that Juleka brought? I heard she made them herself!"

He didn't get a response. Marinette was too busy watching Lila.

She had the feeling that something was off, and she didn't want to let her guard down until she figured out what.

Hawkmoth had been quiet lately. Lila had gotten photos that were either photoshopped or had been made in some other way. Maybe it was a stretch to say that the two were related, but there was a niggling feeling in Marinette's gut that there was some sort of connection.

Marinette had long since learned that her gut was usually not a great thing to ignore. If she sensed that something was wrong, she needed to investigate. Just sitting back and waiting for things to resolve themselves or for problems to show up wasn't enough, not anymore.

"You guys? The quiches?"

Marinette startled, pulling her gaze away from Lila and back towards Nino. Right. Investigating was important, but so was not being obvious about it. If Lila caught her staring, or one of her other classmates did, then Lila would no doubt go out of her way to be even more sneaky about whatever it was that she was up to.

That was fine. Marinette could hold a conversation and watch Lila unobtrusively at the same time. So she did. And what she noticed...

Well, Lila was definitely still sick. She had looked positively green as she picked up food from the table (following what might have been either an attempt to make people feel like they had to rush to assure her that she could take all the food she wanted or a stab at getting out of eating that backfired spectacularly- Marinette suspected that it was meant to be the latter) and not entirely steady on her feet as she headed back to the bench that she had been sitting on. She hadn't eaten until one of the other girls commented on it, instead just pushing her food around her plate, and, if Marinette's eyes were serving her correctly, Lila seemed to occasionally be swaying in place. Which... wasn't normal.

If it weren't for the faked photos, Marinette would say that Lila was just ill and wasn't up to- well, wasn't up to being up to something. But clearly she had had enough energy to put in the work to create the photos.

Unless- well, there was a possibility that Lila had been working on those photos gradually, over the course of several weeks, and just finished them recently. Several weeks of Photoshop work logically made more sense than a day or two, unless Hawkmoth was involved. Somehow.

...it wasn't a completely illogical thought, right? She was pretty sure that Lila had worked willingly with Hawkmoth before. She had been Akumatized and looked just like normal, at least for a bit. So it wasn't impossible.

...but then how did the cold fit in? And why on earth would Hawkmoth bother giving someone photoshopping powers?

Across the way, Lila swayed in her seat again. She was looking rather pale now, and Marinette wondered why she hadn't just gone home. It would have been easy enough for Lila to claim that she had just gotten an email requesting an urgent Skype meeting about pollution or something and then she could have left.

"Just like Mom and Nathalie," Adrien murmured, pulling her out of her thoughts. "That's so strange."

"Hmm?" Marinette blinked over at him, puzzled. "Who is?"

"Lila." Adrien tipped his head towards Lila, who was pushing herself to her feet to follow Rose. "I think I might have mentioned it once before. Nathalie was really ill just like Lila. She was all tired and ill and dizzy for the longest time before she started getting better, and then there were sometimes off days where she seemed just as sick as she had been before. Mom was like that too before she vanished. And I've never heard of a cold before that acted like that."

"Me either." Not that there weren't illnesses that behaved that way. They just weren't colds. Not an average, run-of-the-mill cold, anyway. "Nathalie got better though, right? So if Lila caught whatever she had- oh my god!"

Across the park, Lila had stumbled and then simply collapsed, hitting the ground hard enough- and in an awkward enough position- that it was pretty obvious that it was 100% not at all faked.

"LILA!" Rose shrieked, dashing back to her side. "Oh my god, can you hear me? Are you okay? What- what do we do?"

"Rose, take a deep breath," Marinette called, already shoving herself to her feet. She had gotten first aid training several months prior, just in case she ever needed it as Ladybug, and- well, she was pretty positive that she was the only one in the class with the training, which meant that she needed to take charge. No matter how much she disliked Lila- or how suspicious she was that Lila was up to something- she had to do the right thing. "Juleka, help Rose roll Lila onto her back so that she isn't all crumpled up like that. Alya, call for an ambulance."

"On it!"

Marinette dashed over as Rose and Juleka got Lila into a more comfortable position on the ground. Lila's skin was white as a sheet against her hair, so far beyond pale that it was really concerning.

At least she was breathing. Marinette could tell as much as she skidded to a stop by Lila's side.

Rose was practically in tears. "Is she going to be okay?"

"She's breathing, so she should be fine." As long as she kept breathing, at least. Marinette quickly scanned through her memories of what she had learned in her first aid class. Lila had been acting ill before, so they didn't need to worry about environmental threats to them, too. That also pretty much ruled out choking, and the fact that Lila hadn't been coughing or clutching at her throat (or eating) before confirmed that. She had just passed out, so watching after her while they waited for an ambulance to arrive should be pretty easy.

Now, as far as things that they could do went...

"We want to encourage blood flow to the head, since Lila fainted," Marinette told everyone, keeping a close eye on the slow rise and fall of Lila's chest. "If someone could find something to prop Lila's feet up a bit, that should help. And then I'm just going to make sure that her clothes aren't too tight, because tight clothes restrict blood flow."

Several people darted off to grab their backpacks or bags to prop Lila's feet up. Marinette watched them go for a moment, then turned her attention back to Lila.

Right. What she was meant to do if Lila's clothes were tight, Marinette wasn't sure, but if she could figure out how to defeat an akuma with a traffic cone, she was pretty positive that she could puzzle out how to help Lila.

Methodically, Marinette worked over Lila's body, scanning for anything that might be in need of loosening, pausing briefly partway through to help Nino prop up Lila's feet slightly before going back to her scan. Nothing in particular was sticking out, except for maybe Lila's scarf. Even that was pretty loose, though, not something that would be cutting off any blood or air.

Maybe she should still be removing it? That would probably be a good idea.

"Marinette," Tikki hissed suddenly from Marinette's collar. "I'm sensing something really odd near Lila's neck. Can you take off her scarf? I just- I want to check something out."

Marinette nodded as subtly as she could, not wanting to attract any attention from her audience, then carefully removed Lila's scarf. There was something hard hidden in the folds, and a quick glance down at Tikki confirmed that whatever it was that she had sensed was on the scarf itself.

Had- had she been right? Was Lila actually akumatized and Tikki had detected the akumatized object? Maybe she had been akumatized all week, and that was why she had seemed better. Then the sickness had gotten too much and gotten through the boost that the akuma gave.

Which... well, that made Marinette wonder just how sick Lila was if it was able to force its way through the boost that an akumatization usually gave.

Also, speaking of which, she had to get away soon, then, and purify the akuma before it peeled itself out of whatever was in the scarf. But she couldn't just step away from Lila unnoticed, not when she was the only one of her classmates who was trained in first aid. She would have to wait until the professionals arrived- and even then, she would probably have to brief them on what she had seen and done, even if she had seen the same thing as most of her classmates and hadn't really done much in terms of care.

...maybe she would get lucky and the cursed butterfly would stay in the brooch or whatever it was in the scarf until after Lila was turned over into far more capable hands. It was a long shot, but not completely impossible.

Maybe. Hopefully.

"Here comes the ambulance!" Nathaniel called from the corner of the park. He rushed back towards them. "Clear a path, clear a path!"

The next few minutes were a blur as everyone scrambled out of the way of the path and grabbed up stray bags, making way for the paramedics. They surrounded Lila, taking her vitals and moving her onto a stretcher when she didn't respond. There were questions to answer about what they had seen and what they had done and then Lila was being wheeled away towards the ambulance. The class swarmed towards the curb, watching the ambulance pull away anxiously, but Marinette held back. With everyone else's attention off of her, she glanced down at the scarf in her hands. No corrupted butterflies had fluttered free yet, so Marinette carefully unfolded the scarf to see what was inside.

The folds fell away, tumbling to the side, and the pin inside was exposed. It glinted brightly in the sun, and Marinette gasped.

Because that was no akumatized brooch. That was the Peacock Miraculous.

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #The Wavering Peahen

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fanfic-corner · 4 years ago

Text

Writer Castiel

4/12/20 - I have wanted to be a writer since I was ten years old, so maybe I’m biased here, but I absolutely adore the idea of Cas being an author if he lived a different life!

Tabula Rasa by Dangerousnotbroken on AO3. (78,240 words).

Tags: Writer Castiel, Bartender Dean, Past Relationship, Pervasive Themes of Memory, Magic, Canon Typical Violence, Mentions of alcoholism, Mentions of Past Child Neglect, Mental Illness, Witches, Ghosts, Bi!Dean, Bi!Castiel, Referenced Past Minor Character Death, Angst, Slow Burn, Memory Loss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Once upon a time, Castiel Novak had everything. He had a happy home life, a full scholarship, and, if he played his cards right, a promising journalism career. And on top of all of that, he had Dean. Then tragedy struck, as it tends to do, and Castiel lost everything. At thirty six, he’s got none of those things. He’s got no family to speak of. He’s got a job investigating purportedly true tales of the supernatural for a magazine no one reads. And worst of all he hasn’t seen Dean in nearly twenty years. So when research for an article turns him on to a witch who apparently grants wishes in exchange for stories, Castiel figures it’s worth the risk. If making a deal with a witch can get him Dean back, what has he got to lose?

Notes: This was absolutely amazing; both written beautifully and with a fantastic plot.

the inexhaustible silence of houses by Askance on AO3. (31,820 words).

Tags: Horror, Psychological Trauma, Domestic Violence.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Almost two years after the world doesn't end, Castiel falls from grace—and loses his voice in the process. It is the impetus for confession and change; before long, he is settling into a loving relationship with Dean, the Winchesters are tired, and hunting for a place to land has taken precedence to hunting anything else. Dean and Castiel fall in love with the strange little house on the end of Swallowtail Drive, and for a little while life is as it should be—sweet, affectionate, and beginning afresh. But more and more Castiel sees and hears things in the house that beg the question of whether or not a place itself can be alive. The walls and rooms seem to shift and grow and breathe, and one night, Dean comes home from a hunt changed in a way that Castiel cannot explain. In the months that follow, their domestic bliss takes turns for the dark and sour, and the confusion of their circumstances will ultimately test everything Castiel knows about the man he loves, and everything he believes to be true.

Notes: Excellently written, made me cry, and the ending was brilliant. Technically it isn’t tagged as Cas being a writer, but he does write some poetry throughout, and I couldn’t help myself.

Lost and Found by whelvenwings on AO3. (7,762 words).

Tags: Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Demisexual Castiel.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: “Chuck Shurley? Sure, I’ve read his books. Kinda Vonnegut, but like, Kilgore-Trout Vonnegut, you know?” Dean took another gulp of his whisky, and smacked his lips like an adult. The guy sitting beside him at the bar, however, did not look suitably impressed. In fact, he was staring down into the bubbles of his cider, not even noticing the way that Dean was smiling at him, giving him the eyes. “I thought his stuff was pretty good, in a kinda metamodern way,” Dean added airily, and a little more loudly. The guy only nodded gloomily. Dean almost clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth in frustration. C’mon, dude, I’m trying to impress you. Twenty minutes of talking and all Dean had to show for it was a weird first name, a series of dour stares and the strangest need to know more about this – Castiel.

Notes: This was written so well that I wanted to cry at Cas’ story of the stars, even though it wasn’t particularly sad. Now I want to go and stargaze with someone.

The House on the Ocean Road by coffeeandcas on AO3. (111,351 words).

Tags: Single Parent Castiel, Alternate Universe, Angst with a Happy Ending, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Baggage, Hurt Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Car Accidents, Past Character Death, Adopted Children, Mentions of Suicide, Slow Burn, Anxiety, Panic Attacks, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Near Death Experiences, Hospitals, Explicit Sexual Content, POV Dean.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester is on the run from his life. He's done something unforgivable, and can't face his family or friends ever again. So he does what any rational person would do: fakes his own death and vanishes into the ether. Wandering aimlessly along country roads, he succumbs to the elements during a violent storm and wakes up hours later in the home of a stranger: a single dad living alone in an isolated beach house, with a haunting past of his own. Cas is sweet and shy, but welcomes Dean into his home and tells him he can stay as long as he needs, never prying into his life or asking him to spill his secrets. As they rapidly forge a close friendship, Dean finds that the quiet life by the ocean with Cas is exactly what he's been dreaming of. He only hopes his past never catches up with him.

Notes: This was so gorgeous and the plot was fabulous! Also, I loved Jimmy, and Dean and Cas as parents were adorable. Weirdest use of Cole’s character that I’ve ever seen though.

What Can’t Be Seen by destieldrabblesdaily on AO3. (2,639 words).

Tags: Soulmate AU, author!Cas, Strangers to Lovers, First Kiss.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Written for this prompt: Soulmate AU where you first see color after eye contact: Cas is a famous best selling author and he’s promoting his book, so he’s talking to a crowd of people and suddenly his world is in color, and a lot of his fans pretend to be his soulmate. A Cinderella type situation ensues.

Notes: This was really cute and such a sweet and funny idea.

(un)conventional by imogenbynight on AO3. (6,100 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe, mechanic!Dean, Writer!Castiel, Conventions, Fluff.

My Rating: 5 stars.

Description: Spec Lit Con--Speckly Con, to it’s regular attendees--is an annual weekend-long event held in Chicago, dedicated to science fiction, fantasy and otherwise speculative literature. This year Dean's favorite author, C.J. Novak, is appearing as a panelist. Naturally, he shells out the cash for an all access pass.

Notes: This was so adorable that I nearly screamed in the corridor outside my computer science lesson. Plus, the writing was absolutely gorgeous! I miss conventions :(

I Think That’s Mine by palominopup on AO3. (6,804 words).

Tags: Fluff, AU, Reporter!Dean, Writer!Cas.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: A mix up at the Atlanta Airport places Dean Winchester's laptop in someone else's possession. A series of calls and texts bring two men together.

Notes: This was so cute, Cas was so sweet, and Dean was an icon.

‘Star Wars is Overrated’ by leftdragonpainter on AO3. (38,186 words).

Tags: Soulmates, Pining, Drinking, Writer Castiel, Mechanic Dean, Neighbours, Swearing, Winchester Logic, Clueless Dean, College Student Sam, Awkward Dates, Dean Cooks, Castiel in Glasses, Slow Burn, Injured Sam, Fixing Cars, Smut, Costumes, Drunk Texting, Temporary Amnesia, Angst and Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: When Dean Winchester turned sixteen he was disappointed by the words that appeared on his chest. He never expected that it would take so much to find his soulmate. He never expected to not remember meeting them...

Tags: Every time I thought I knew what was going to happen in this fic, something completely different happened, which I loved.

Event Horizon by Winglesss on AO3. (6,442 words).

Tags: Suicidal Thoughts, Suicidal Dean, Depression, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, Past Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Texting, Sharing a Bed, Happy Ending, Veteran Dean, Doctor Dean, Writer Castiel, Strangers.

My Rating: 4 stars.

Description: Castiel couldn't have helped his sister. That's why being offered a chance to help somebody else dealing with suicidal thoughts he took it without hesitation. When he gets the first text from someone who needs his help, nothing goes as he expected.

Notes: I don’t know if that kind of suicide prevention scheme exists, but this fic is very sweet.

Darkly Dreaming Dean by Duckyboos on AO3. (29,008 words).

Tags: Alternate Universe - Serial Killers, Alternate Universe - Police, Detective Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, Serial Killer Dean, Alternate Universe - Dexter, Established Relationship, Murder, Top Dean, Bottom Castiel, Anal Sex, Innocent Castiel.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester has the perfect apple pie life with his shy-but-sweet boyfriend in the suburbs. He has a steady, well-paid job with the LAPD and he’s charming and attractive. Really, he’s living the American Dream. It’s his extra-curricular activities that some may disagree with, as he’s also an accomplished serial killer. To date, his kills amount to around 36 and he’s never been caught. He’s employed by the law, remember? He knows how these things work.

A new serial killer arrives on the scene and despite the sloppiness of their work, Dean is intrigued by them and what they're trying to achieve, because their MO is the same as his; killing bad people. He makes it his mission to track the other killer down before the police do, and he’s left reeling when the 'Basin Vigilante' turns out to be someone a lot closer to home than he could have ever imagined.

Notes: I sort of watched Dexter a few years ago, and I absolutely love the idea of Dean as a vigilante serial killer. I only wish that the synopsis was a bit different, so the end was more of a surprise.

Finding Home by Desirae on AO3. (42,828 words).

Tags: Baker Dean Winchester, Writer Castiel, PTSD, Past Childhood Trauma, Childhood Kidnapping, Mistaken Identity, Dean Whump, Castiel Whump, Best Friends to Lovers, Emotional Sex, Fluff, Humor, Angst with a Happy Ending.

My Rating: 3 stars.

Description: Dean Winchester lived a quiet life running his bakery. Aside from family, Dean had no desire to let anyone inside. The more people you cared about, the more you had to lose; A hard lesson he'd learned at the tender age of eight when Dean’s best friend was kidnapped right before his eyes. Dean was forever haunted by the event, although he hadn’t realized quite how much until Emmanuel James Milton breezed into his life; waking his sleeping heart with a complete lack filter and achingly familiar eyes. An author, with no family and traumatic past of his own, Emmanuel never felt like he belonged anywhere until he walked into The Honeybee Bakery and met Dean. It’s not long before they find out that there is a reason for their profound bond.

Notes: It was obvious what was going on here from the start, but that just made it even cuter as they fell in love again.

I think it is a shame we didn’t get more human Cas content, but I guess it is too late now. I hope you enjoy these fics, and if you ever have a specific list you want me to make, feel free to ask!

#writer cas #castiel #supernatural #ficrecs #fanfics #destiel #dexter #soulmate au

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theskyeandsea · 4 years ago

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Do You Wanna Be My Roommate? || Rio & Skye

Timing: December 10th

Location: Nic & Skylar’s Home

Tagging: @3starsquinn & @theskyeandsea

Description: In the wake of Winson’s departure from town, Skylar and Rio reclaim weeb night!

Warnings: Drug use mentions, chronic illness symptoms mentions, addiction

Tugging at the sleeves of her shirt, Skylar looked around the house-- it looked normal, right? The last time someone had been here, she’d been caught off guard and hadn’t had time to try and make the place look presentable. But, she had invited Rio here, wanted to be here to support him. Because that was what a good friend did, and they, they were still friends. She wanted to be there for him because break ups were hard. She might not know much about them, but she remembered how much it had hurt when Shiloh had left town, in much the same way to Winston. Just a quick word and then Skylar was left with the other woman’s absence.

Swallowing, Skylar hooked her hearing aids in and turned them on. Dundee was sitting on the edge of the couch, watching her from his nest of blankets. He used to like spending time in her room, but lately he spent most of his time out in the living room. Maybe he was waiting for Nic to come home? Before she could fall too far down that rabbit hole, the doorbell rang and she hurried to the door. “Rio! Hey--” Her eyes flicked over his appearance and she blinked. “Are… What happened to you?”

Orion and Skylar had made plans, he didn’t want to cancel those just because he had almost been murdered and spent a few days in the hospital. He hadn’t seen her in awhile, his own life being too caught up in the trauma and the drama. As if the Lydia situation hadn’t been horrifying enough, Winston’s departure and the werewolf attack had to add a little extra disaster to Rio’s life. Just in time for the holidays. But despite the solemn mood Rio had been stuck in, he had no plans in continuing that tonight. He was hoping to enjoy his time with Skylar tonight, where the both of them could take their minds off of everything keeping them down.

When Skylar answered the door he could see that she had her hearing aids in, but he signed anyways as he greeted her. It was mostly out of habit, but he enjoyed the practice regardless. “Oh. These” Rio grinned nervously, he supposed he couldn’t ignore the fact that it happened, no matter how much he wished he could pretend he had never seen any of those dead bodies. Or heard their screams. “There was an… incident a few nights ago. A werewolf attacked a cafe that I was at.” Though his hoodie and jeans worked to block the main injuries that he had suffered, bruises and cuts all over his face and hands were still far too visible. Realizing that he was a hunter who just told Skylar about a werewolf attack, Rio thought that he should specify, “I didn’t kill it. Just uh- so we’re clear. I just tried to stop it from hurting others.” He did stab it. But he remembered how scared Skylar had been about hunters. He didn’t want to freak her out, “It’s alive. And hopefully back to human and not hurting anyone.”

Stepping out of the way to let him in, Skylar did her best not to stare at the cuts as he explained. An attack? A werewolf? What had happened to them? Not that Skylar knew many werewolves-- just Ulfric, the man from the coffee shop with all the tattoos, and Ariana, who she’d only known as a student until recently-- but they’d both seemed… in control. The thoughts slid through her mind like water, though, slipping from her mind as she led the way to the living room. Dundee was still curled up in the pile of blankets, little tail wagging as he caught sight of Rio and stared at the young man with his beedy, unblinking eyes. “It? You mean… them, right?” Skylar said, the words coming out before she could stop herself. But, werewolves, they were people. Maybe not human people, just like she wasn’t human people. But they were people, right? “I-- sorry though. That something like that happened to you. I’m glad you didn’t need to hurt anyone badly, though.” She nodded.

Sliding through the front door, Orion was surprised by how long ago it seemed that he had last been here to hang out with Skylar. Despite that, it came with a surprising familiarity to follow her down the hall and into the living room. As per usual, Dundee stared at Rio as if staring directly into his soul. The dog was cute and incredibly uncomforting at the same time. “Hey buddy!” Rio went over to the pet little guy regardless. At Skylar’s words, Rio froze. His hand hovered to his bottom lip, barely pressing against it almost in shock of what had just come out of his mouth. “I-uh” It. When had Rio ever talked like that? He had spent his entire life trying and failing to convince his family that there was humanity to supernatural creatures. Especially werewolves, who weren’t destined to be murderous monsters their entire lives. How had that same person become the one that casually referred to a living person as it? “Sorry. Yeah. Them.” He pulled his hand away, shoving both of them into his pockets and refusing to make eye contact with Skylar for a moment. The word kept repeating itself in his head over and over again. “It’s okay. The werewolf, I don’t know who they were. But they didn’t have control. I don’t know if they woke up remembering everything or completely ignorant. That’s scary stuff.” A chill shot down Rio’s spine and he readjusted his stance a bit too quickly, catching his breath at the sudden pains. He slowly stretched out before forcing a smile back onto his face. “Sorry, I want this to be a fun night. All this’ll be gone in a few days anyways. Let’s just try to have fun.”

Skylar barely noticed the way that Rio went stock still-- it was the way his hand moved that caught her attention. He hadn’t even realized he’d said it, had he? Tilting her head slightly, she did her best to peer at him. But, the trace amounts of Bliss kept her floating, just floating on by, and it was always a little hard to grab the finer details. But, she could tell that he was upset. And she didn’t want him to be upset, she really didn’t. Rio was a good guy, a good person. “I hope they’re okay. And the other people who were hurt too-- and you too! Obviously. But. I hope they’re okay.” She said, knowing all too well how much it hurt to have gaps in your memory, to have entire parts of yourself locked away. Noticing the way his chest caught, Skylar blinked. “You’re not still hurt are you? You didn’t need to-- we could have cancelled if you’re still hurt. Sit down, sit down.” She said, urging him to take a seat. She could still take care of people, she could still do this. She could be the Skylar everyone wanted her to be.

Orion nodded his head, maybe a bit too enthusiastically. He didn’t need Skylar too worried about his wounds. She had already helped him before when that evil watermelon thing had bitten him. Just like that time, these would heal. “I’m okay. I’m still sore, but it’s not too bad. I’ll heal quickly anyways.” He still hated his hunter abilities. Not because they weren’t useful, he had been attacked way too many times for him to try to claim that. It just didn’t seem fair that he got this advantage while others around him were put at risk. “Seriously, I wanted to come over here. I’m happy to be here, sore or not.” Rio grinned, slowly easing himself back and onto the couch. “If I had cancelled I would have just ended up lying in my bed at the house all night anyways. I definitely didn’t want to do that. So you’re doing me a favor.”

“If you say so.” Skylar said as Rio took a seat on the couch. Walking to the fridge, she pulled out a bottle of water and a can of Mountain Dew. She’d remembered that he liked them when she had been wandering down the aisles at the store, running her fingers against the shelves. “Want a drink? There might be some beer left over from when Nic was here, if you’d like. I don’t really keep beer here.” She said as she scanned the shelves. “I’ve never really been able to do the whole… post-break up ice cream and cookie dough thing that you see in movies, but I have both if you’d like.” She offered. “But, ah-- sorry. That might be too soon to say.” At Rio’s words, Skylar nodded, a smile spreading on her face. She was helping him. “Of course. I’m glad I can do something to make you feel better. And hey, Yuri on Ice is a great show, it always cheers me up.”

Skylar disappeared in the kitchen for a moment and came back with a mountain dew. Orion sat forward enthusiastically to reach for it, trying to be careful not to stretch too many injured muscles. It was only partially effective. “Oh you’re the best thank you so much.” He had been so tired recently, he needed some caffeine. The mention of Nic was a sudden reminder that he had been her only roommate. He knew about him no longer being in town but he hadn’t exactly connected the dots. “Oh right. You don’t have any other roommates do you? You have this whole place to yourself?” It was a big house, something that could either be a lot of fun or really lonely depending on the person. “It’s been weird at my house too. Ricky’s always so busy at the workshop that it was usually just Winston and I. Now that he’s not there it’s just a whole house to myself with all the things Winston and I used to do.” Rio shrugged. Admittedly, it had bothered him how much time he spent noticing small things that Winston left behind. But there wasn’t much he could do about it for now. “I have no experience with post break up junk food, but am assuming that it tastes similar to regular junk ice cream and cookie dough. Both of which I’m a huge fan of.” But more than sugary distractions, Rio was mostly excited for another reboot of their anime night. Hopefully this time it would be without the snooping or weird tension that was present the previous times. “I cannot wait, I am so pumped for this it’s been on my list forever.”

“Of course.” Skylar beamed as she handed him the soda before settling down on the couch with some space between them. Dundee glanced over at her, as though waiting for her to do something, but when she flipped on the tv, he plopped his head back down on the nest of blankets. “Nope, it’s just me.” This place had been Erin’s home for a bit too, but the memory of their last encounter came back to her mind-- No. Smiling wider, she pushed the thought away. Now wasn’t the time to think about that. Erin wasn’t coming back here. “Mhm, that’s… That sounds hard.” Skylar had never lived with Shiloh, hadn’t even really reached the stage where she spent much time at the other woman’s home. But, she felt for Rio. Being in a place where there was just the constant presence of someone who he’d cared about, who was so very much not here? She dealt with that some since Nic had left, the little knick knacks and knives tucked around the house hammering home the fact that he was gone. “Sounds good. Let me just get Netflix up.” She said, scrolling through the lists with a slightly clumsy hand. She skipped around until the familiar ice-skating anime popped up. “I’m so excited for you to watch this, I think you’ll really enjoy it.”

Orion stretched across the couch as much as he could to scratch on Dundee’s head before returning to his original position. Skylar was navigating the tv to find the show and Rio studied her as she did so. Outwardly, she seemed fine with living alone. Nothing in her initial statement indicated that she hated the idea of living alone. The place did seem pretty sweet, especially considering it had the pool for private sessions when she needed to change. On paper, he probably seemed perfect. But speaking from his own experiences, Rio knew that a place like this would be incredibly lonely. He wondered what Skylar thought of it. Right now, he wasn’t sure if it would be rude to ask. “I’m so excited” Rio clapped his hands together and leaned back on the couch to settle in when Skylar pressed play.

The rest of the night passed without anything weird or out of the ordinary happening-- a rarity that Skylar honestly hadn’t expected. It was nice, to watch anime and pretend like there was nothing wrong. They could pretend like this town wasn’t awful, like this place wasn’t terrible. As Yuri took a victory lap around the ice rink, Skylar let out a sigh, stretching. The motion sent a slight twinge of pain down her back, but she ignored it. She could handle a little pain, just for now. She had wanted to be present for this, to spend time with Rio. And, once he was gone, she would be able to slip back down into the haze of Bliss. “Such a good show. Did you like it?” She asked as Dundee padded across the couch and leaned against her, his head resting against her leg. “I’m glad you were able to come over for this, I missed having anime nights.” Skylar said, a little surprised that it was true.

They had truly binged out with this one. In what was probably their first fully successful attempt at an anime night the two both watched the show in relative quiet. Every now and again one would speak up or they would both laugh at something. But other than that, the two had seemed perfectly content with simply being in each other’s company. The show was exactly the sort of feel good emotion that Orion so desperately needed. Watching their relationship slowly grow into what it became by the end of the show was enough to bring a tear to Rio’s eyes. By the time the last episode finished, there was a stream of tears running down his face. “No. It was awful.” Rio lied, a single laugh bursting through his tears. Even then, Rio crossed his arms and grumbled grumpily, “The show had no right ending like that. I hated it.” A small smile split across his face though, and he eventually conceded, “Nah. I’m kidding. That was amazing and I’m so glad we started it back up. I miss them too.” Even for the drama they had once been. “We should definitely get back into the habit of doing them.”

Looking over at Rio, Skylar blinked in surprise-- she hadn’t realized he’d cried. She must have missed that, must… not have noticed. She swallowed, pushing the thought side and smiled back at him. “Good! I’m glad that you did, it’s such a great show. The characters are all so good and you really kinda root for all of them by the end of it.” She said with a nod. Running a hand through her choppy hair, Skylar looked over at the television, the screen darkened. She could see the two of them reflected, sitting back on the couch. Two lonely people, just a little less alone for the time being. Biting the inside of her cheek, Skylar thought to the spare key that was tucked away in her room. She trusted Rio. It had taken time, but she knew that he was sorry for what he’d done, he’d promised to never pry into her things after their disastrous first anime night. And… it was lonely. “Hey, Rio.” She said tentatively, not really sure how to broach the subject, “I know that things at… Ricky’s must be weird. Things here are weird too, with all of Nic’s stuff being here, but him being gone. And, like I said, I can’t really imagine what it’s like to have to deal with, everything else on top of it.” She said, skirting around the words “break up” as best as she could manage. “But, if you wanted, you could stay here?” Skylar asked, looking hopefully over at him. Maybe having someone around would help. Someone who understood, at least a little, what it was like to not fit into the role that the world wanted her to be.

The question had taken Orion by surprise. He paused for a long moment as he tried to understand exactly what Skylar had meant by ‘stay here’. At first he had just meant for the night, which Rio was ready to thank her for the offer but also assure that he didn’t live too far away. It wasn’t like he had been drinking or anything. But she had mentioned Nic’s things, just as Rio had talked about Winston’s items that were left behind. But he had never said any of those things in an attempt to guilt Skylar into asking him to move in. Even with the awkwardness, Rio hadn’t considered moving out of the house. “Are you… serious?” Rio finally asked, his voice soft and curious. “I don’t want to like… put you in a weird place. Where you feel like you have to offer.”

Was she serious? Skylar wasn’t entirely sure, but, the idea of not being totally alone, of having someone around-- at least part of the day-- was tempting. And she liked Rio. She trusted Rio. He was good and he knew about that side of her, which meant she wouldn’t need to hide it from him. Not that she’d ever needed to with Nic, but, having one less secret from her roommate would be nice. And just, having a roommate, maybe that would make things better. Maybe it would lessen the ache inside her. Nodding, Skylar gestured to the space around them. “I know I don’t need to offer. But, I never really wanted to live on my own. And, I trust you.” She said with a small smile. “In a town like this, that’s… hard to find. You don’t need to say yes, and you can definitely think about it. But, the offer’s here.”

The offer was tempting. The more Orion thought about it, the more he realized how lonely his house felt now. With Ricky constantly working and Winston gone it felt like he lived in an abandoned home. Too big for him. He missed Winston, but he had no chance of taking his mind off of them when he walked past their bedroom door every day and was constantly reminded of all the memories they had there. But Rio wasn’t truly convinced until Skylar told him that she trusted him. It had been a rocky road up to this point. Rio had lied and invaded her privacy. He hadn’t deserved her friendship at all, let alone her trust. But somehow, here they were. “Yes.” Rio nodded quickly. “I mean, I don’t need to think about it. If you’re one hundred percent sure then the answer is yes” Rio laughed in relief, a pressure that had been in his chest all week finally beginning to lift. He hadn’t even realized that it had been there in the first place. “I- Thank you so much. I seriously can’t describe what that means to me.”

The way that Rio laughed, the genuine sound of relief-- before tonight, when was the last time Skylar had heard that sound? Since before Nic had left? The memory came back to her, fuzzy around the edges in the way that most of her memories were now. It was one of the nights when they’d both shared a meal, idly talking about their day and then, out of nowhere, Dundee had hopped up onto the table and stolen a steak right off her plate. The two had sat in startled silence for a minute as the little dog scarfed down the piece of meat, T-bone and all, before bursting into laughter. And tonight, she and Rio had been able to laugh and talk and make this house feel a little less lonesome. It felt a little more like the home that she had hoped for. But, Skylar shifted on the couch, the sharp rush of pain pushing just a little bit harder. “One ground rule, though?” She said, a small smile on her face as she stuck out her hand, “No more poking around in my room.”

#p: dywbmr #p: orion quinn #chatzy #wickedswriting #drug use mentions #chronic illness mentions #addiction tw #//pls note the title is set to the tune of *do you wanna build a snowman*

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marueonmain · 5 years ago

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WINDFLOWER

part two ~ a residual humming ~

(part one) (part two)

A/N: I wanted to write this second part and get it out as soon as possible. I hope you like it! I have messages/asks open for comments or questions. Be safe!

Summary: George bullies Alex about him mooning over Y/N. Sammy is a bit abrasive, but he gets along with the lads.

Pairing: imallexx x reader

Warning: Some Language. More of My Writing.

Word Count: 2.2k

Upon entering his apartment, Alex was met with the smell of burning. He turned into the kitchen to see George's back as he stood over the hob with a grim-looking cheese toastie set in a pan.

George did not move when Alex walked in, nor did he indicate he was aware Alex was watching him. His eyes were glued on the sandwich as he poked at it with a wooden spoon, nudging it to be better. But it was too far gone to turn out any better than just edible.

At Alex clearing his throat, George asked, "Where've you been?"

"I grabbed some lunch at Five Guys." He pulled at the collar of his shirt, fanning himself. Taking a bar seat, he continued, "I would've offered to bring something back for you if I'd thought about it."

"Don't worry; no one expects you to think, Alex." George flipped the hob off and turned around to grab a plate set out on the counter. He used the wooden spoon to scrape the toastie from the pan as the burnt cheese clung on.

Neither spoke as George performed this careful and intricate extraction.

Though it was just so entertaining to watch his flatmate work around his terrible cooking skills, Alex found his thoughts wandering off. It was subconscious thinking. Or can thinking be subconscious versus conscious? Alex was not sure. All he knew was he was not thinking about what to think. Nor were his thoughts connecting along with one another. It was random.

Sparks of this feeling and that. Questions neither answered nor fully asked before another came along. Mostly, it was him reviewing everything he said earlier to Sammy and Y/N.

“Why go by Red?” Why did I ask that? Stupid.

While a small voice shouted, it worked out! There was too much of a ruckus elsewhere in his mind to give that small voice a chance.

Plate in hand, George started in the direction of his bedroom perhaps in hopes he could eat in peace while hunched over his keyboard like a gremlin.

"You know quiche?" Alex piped up.

"It's like egg-casserole, innit?"

"Right. It's a breakfast food, wouldn't you think?"

"Eggs normally are, yes." George stopped, and it was there in his eyes, the realization that he would not be escaping a conversation. He turned to take a bar seat and began eating in small quick bites. Like a mouse.

"I invited someone round to watch football with us later."

"Who? You don't have friends besides Will and them lot."

"I met him this afternoon. His name's Sam, but he goes by Sammy."

"How did you manage to shut up long enough to catch his name?" George coughed on his food – tasting the evident lack of love cooked into it. "And why does he sound like a golden retriever?"

"He is blond like a retriever. He and Y/N are moving-in right above us."

"Is this Y/N coming too?" George waggled his eyebrow.

The knowledge that George had a girlfriend and more so the identity of said girlfriend was on a need to know basis. As were most aspects of George's life: surname, physical appearance, etc. He knew just as well as anyone that Alex was alone – not a sad kind of alone but a neutral kind.

A girlfriend (or boyfriend) could be fantastic for views. But he did not need one. He was a functioning adult. Independent financially and physically. With an exceptional support system of friends. Alex was full and complete by himself.

And he believed that because it was true.

However, it did not stop him from yearning. It did not stop him from feeling like he might sleep better if he had someone's chest to cuddle; it did not stop him from imagining it was someone else's fingers running through his hair in moments of grief.

"Y/N is Sammy's girlfriend, and she wasn't into me—it rather. She wasn't into it."

"It's his girlfriend, mate. Of course, she isn't into you."

"Not like that. Y/N didn't even look at me, like me being there was making her ill."

"What did you expect? To go-" George, in his mocking, pitched his voice higher, "Hello, I'm internet sensation imallexx, and she falls to her knees to start sucking you off?"

Alex made a face, letting his features relax into a deadpan expression.

George continued unbothered, "Why do you care if the girlfriend likes you?"

"It wasn't dislike; it was discomfort. I'm not someone who makes people uncomfortable, am I? That doesn't make sense, not with all those imallexx is baby edits and uwu soft boi collages."

"Uwu soft boi?"

"Piss off. You know what I mean."

Giggling to himself, George finished eating and stood up. He took his plate, dropping it into the sink, he caught Alex's expression – still somber.

Seriousness was not something either flatmate expressed on the regular, or if it was, it would not be for long. There might be some argument to be made there. That neither man felt comfortable in serious situations because their insecurities about being shorter than average (or about having generous natures) made it difficult for them to see themselves as worth being taken seriously.

Or maybe that argument would be off base and a load of shit—who knows.

"Everyone I've seen you meet in person liked you – just got one of those likable faces, I guess. Plus, you're entertaining and that. I've never known you to make people uncomfortable." George paused. "You'd have to be a real dick to go after another bloke's girl. But I'm sure she'd like talking to you again...if that's what you wanted."

"I don't know what I want to happen, George."

"Well, figure it out. And if Sam does opt into a few rounds of FIFA, I'm not letting him beat me."

"It's Sammy."

"Ok." George walked in the direction of his bedroom. "Sammy. Sammy. I can remember that."

~LATER~

It was adrenaline-fueled cheers, heated debates over pizza toppings, clever and scathing remarks, all in addition to an absurd amount of drinking. And the aftermath was a residual humming of endorphins.

Newcastle lost: no surprise there.

Electronic noises sounded from the television at full volume but, having to travel through the thick wave of inebriation and exhaustion in the room, it all registered as dull pings. Will and George were the two holding controllers and involved in the head-to-head battle unfolding on-screen.

Sitting next to one another on the sofa highlighted the stark differences in their composure and dedication. George sat leaning forward enough to be considered doubled over with an iron grip on his controller. Will leaned back with one hand on the controller and the other taking the occasional swig from the beer he otherwise held between his legs.

Throwing back drink after drink, Sammy occupied the third sofa cushion. He admitted earlier in the night that he never played FIFA before; he watched the television with interest and set focus. Blush and all, he looked alert and strong even after winning the shot contest between himself and James.

James – on the other hand – was flat on his back on the floor in front of the coffee table with his eyes closed. He had not spoken up in a while, but Alex was sure he was still awake – like 60% sure.

"—in the frame for half a second. If that!" Alex struggled to control the volume of his voice as he spoke with excitement, "And not twelve hours later, I see a screenshot of them on a fetish instagram account."

"What the fuck?" Sammy laughed through the question.

"That's what I said!"

Will, confident he could win against George without paying much attention, spoke up, "I tried to go legit with selling feet pics once for a video."

Sammy's jaw dropped. "You're joking."

"Swear on my life." Will crossed his heart with his hand.

"It was with socks on." Alex stood up from the armchair and stumbled to the kitchen to pour himself another shot. Deciding on a clear liquor, he poured and downed it before finishing his thought, "Having socks on—that's not the same. Not at all."

"Nice dress-socks! I had production value, I did. Unlike you with those hobbit feet."

Alex held himself steady against the kitchen counter. With ears lit up red like traffic lights, he stared into the air with a blank expression for half a minute before shaking his head as if coming up from some dark, treacherous waters. Gaining some composure, he shuffled back to the armchair and collapsed onto it. He said his peace on the issue, "Don't be an ass."

"The only fun way to be," Will muttered as he knocked back a bit of his beer.

Despite watching Alex cross the room with particular concern, Sammy reentered the conversation in a casual tone and manner. "Wait. Your feet are just out there in the open for weird foot fetish guys to jack off to?"

"Guys jack off to Alex all the time," said George. He did not remove his eyes from the television as the electronic sounds coming from the game took a discordant turn. "He's an LGBT icon."

Alex gritted his teeth at the comment. "Stop."

"Oh?" From the sofa, Sammy raised his head, shifting his posture and pulling himself up into a proper seated position. "You're gay?"

George started, "Well, he's b—"

"Yes." Alex cut him off. Sometimes it was easier to just be “gay” than to get specific with someone who might not understand or even accept further explanation.

It went quiet, save the electronic noises of George getting his ass kicked at FIFA. George, too focused on losing and being offended from getting cut-off, and James having been down for the count for the last hour, were unaware of the turn the conversation had taken and were spared from the rising uneasiness.

Will and Alex were in the thick of it. Alex shot worried glances in Will's direction. Will set his jaw and nodded with reassurance back to Alex.

Sammy breathed out an, "Oh."

"Is that an issue?" Alex asked.

"God, no. It's a relief!" Sammy slouched into the back of the sofa. "Don't have to be worried about you trying to chat up Red."

Will looked agitated (maybe at the choice of words or the hesitation). His forehead scrunched-up, and his posture tensed with rigid shoulders and arms. He asked with a forced ‘normal-sounding’ tone, "Who's Red?"

"My girlfriend – she's a fucking bitch, but like my bitch, you know?"

Alex was not sure which part of the whole thing he was most uncomfortable with...until he decided. It was the bitch comment.

It was the bitch comment by far.

No one in that room – as far as he knew – had ever straight-out name called their girlfriend like that. Not George about [REDACTED]. Not Will about Mia. Not James about Aria. And certainly not Alex about his past partners.

To be fair there were a handful of times, he or his friends had considered how their partner was acting as being bitchy. Still at the heart of all their relationships was a respect for the other person and the courtesy to not leave for the evening (to watch football or whatever) without at least attempting to work things out – smooth things over even the tiniest amount.

"I thought her name was Y/N," said George.

Sammy hurled an expression that asked how would you know and all but dared George to ask him another question. "It is. But when we met, I called her Red, and now she goes by Red."

"Why?"

Sammy ignored that George had spoken at all. Luckily, it was just a few awkward seconds between Sammy clamming up and someone else speaking.

"Mac 'n cheese! Fuck!" James shouted as his eyes shot open, and he sat up from the floor. "Doesn't mac 'n cheese sound good right now?" He turned his attention to Alex and snapped finger guns at him. "You have any mac 'n cheese?"

"No, James," Alex growled; he rubbed the heels of his hands against his eyes with too much pressure.

Sammy interjected with cheerfulness in his voice, "I like mac 'n cheese with some marshmallow fluff."

"Fuck yes!" James whipped around to face Sammy (whom he probably did not recognize at that moment nor remember meeting just hours before) and somehow got louder. "We gotta get some!"

"Let's go." Sammy did not move to stand.

"You're so chill," mumbled James. As unexpected as it was for him to pop-up, James hit the ground again, closing his eyes. He was out.

"Anyone willing to be talked at by Alex for an entire evening has got to be," remarked George with a humorless laugh.

"Reel it back a bit," Will warned before Alex might have come back with something worse.

"Yeah," Sammy teased, "how much you down now, George? £200 last I checked."

"Will's cheating."

Will took a swig from his beer. "Mate, I'm too pissed to be cheating."

"Whatever."

"Check it." Will shifted in his seat as on-screen, he scored the final goal of the game. Triumphant electronic noises blasted from the television as he raised his long arms up in the air, pumping his fist once. twice. three times.

He got up to high-five Alex and Sammy, who wore over-excited smiles across their flushed faces. And just like that, the evening was over.

#imallexx #imallexx imagine #imallexx x reader #alex elmslie #alex elmslie x reader #alex elmslie imagine #eboys #willne #memeulous #commentary crew #james marriott #internet sensation

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marshmallow-phd · 5 years ago

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I Hate You, But I Hate Me Too

Genre: Non-idol!AU

Pairing: Yixing x Reader

A/N: This is a bit off path from my regular kind of thing. I wanted to try something different. I was really inspired by the song Hate Me Too by Emily Burns. I feel like this fic is more “adult” (and no I don’t mean smut, that rule is still in place lol) than my others. I hope you like it!

I need you.

Laughter echoed around you as your friends went about their conversations, blissfully unaware of the turmoil boiling inside you. Should you stay? Should you go? Like there was even really a choice.

The last time this happened, you told yourself that you would be strong, that you would pretend that you never saw the stupid text and that you were having too much of a good time with people who cared about you to want to leave. But the pull was always nearly impossible to resist.

You hardly remembered what life was like before you met him. Did you actually make it through Friday nights having fun with your friends without constantly jumping each time your phone buzzed in your pocket? Were you able to go home without disappointment because you didn’t hear from him?

You yearned for those days that you couldn’t remember, like standing in front of an Ansel Adams photograph and longing to be walking along the lakeshore. You had no understanding of what that experience was actually like, but you ached for it anyway.

Often, you searched for a way to sever the cord that kept you tied to him. You searched for a cure, but there didn’t seem to be one. Not for when you were addicted to another human being.

“Hey!”

A napkin made contact with your face, finally pulling you away from the glowing screen of your phone. It took will power – more than you thought you had – but you managed to put your phone down, blacking out the screen so no one would accidentally see the text. You looked at your friend innocently. “Yeah?”

Your friends stared at you with genuine concern. It had been like a switch with you, going from actively being in the conversation to completely silent. This time with your friends, the drinks and dinner, was almost enough to make you completely forget about him. You were having fun again. How quickly the tides turned.

“You kind of spaced out there for a second,” one of your friends explained. She narrowed her eyes at you, tilting her head as if she were examining a confusing, abstract sculpture and a new perspective would give her some enlightenment. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Um, y-” Your phone buzzed, the lit up screen stealing your attention.

Please?

The shattering of your willpower echoed in your ears.

“No, actually, I think the seafood and wine combination was a bad idea,” you lied, already digging out your wallet. Taking out some cash, you put it down on the table and stood up. “I really think I should go home. I’m sorry. I don’t want to ruin your guys’ night.”

“No, no!” One of your other friends exclaimed. “Go home. We’ll be fine. Feel better, okay?”

Her concern was only making your guilt feel worse. Maybe the guilty churning of your stomach would become an actual illness. Then you’d have a true excuse not to go see him.

But as you waved goodbye to your friends and stood outside the restaurant, waiting for your ride to come, the guilt slowly dissolved away. In its place, that familiar buzz of excitement. He’d asked for you. He’d given you the same line he gave every time, this time adding a please. You were so easy.

The car pulled up only two minutes later and you slid into the back, resting your head against the window. Your eyes didn’t focus on anything – not the street lights or the storefronts or the couples along the sidewalk. Your mind, however, was focused on him.

Zhang Yixing was quite possibly the sweetest man you’d ever met. There was nothing special about your clandestine meeting. No meet-cute through spilled coffee or mixed up luggage. He was simply an acquaintance of one of your friends. His smile, though, was enough to draw you in. You could almost say that you had a crush since the very beginning.

The times he appeared to meet up with the group were infrequent and scattered. It didn’t matter, though, your heart still fluttered each time you saw him. And there were times that gave you hope that your feelings weren’t completely one-sided. The looks he would flash your way, the smiles, the light touches. You thought it was the beginning of something wonderful, the kind of love story you could tell your grandchild.

So how did it end up like this?

No, really. You didn’t know.

The first time something happened between you, the two of you had been drinking with the group. It was a blur how the two of you got back to your apartment, but you certainly remembered what happened after you walked through the door. Your high from the encounter, however, did not last long.

You woke up to find Yixing tying up his shoes at the end of your bed. Before you could say anything, he threw you a wink, a smile and left. The sun wasn’t even beginning to peek out yet and he was already gone. Things only spiraled down from there.

No matter how many times you racked your head against a wall, you couldn’t figure out how that one night turned into this constant game. He never sent you good morning texts or asked you how your day was. Weeks could go by with nothing but silence from his end. Then, with no warning or explanation, he would call or text, usually something along the lines of him needing you or that he was sad or lonely, asking you to come cure his ailment. You were so easy he didn’t need to put any effort into reeling you back in. All he had to do was poke at that tiny flame of hope that this might possibly one day become something a little more.

You had the driver stop at the end of the street. A weird habit you’d developed sometime near the beginning of all of this. For some reason, you liked the nuance of walking down the street to the faded blue door. You could take those extra steps to prepare yourself, to calm yourself down. It was better to face him as neutral as possible. You didn’t want him to see the small amount of excitement he brought you, how happy you were when he called for you.

God, you must be so pathetic to him. Like a puppy to its owner, you came running with your tail wagging.

Raising up your fist, you knocked softly against the blue door and waited. The paint was bleached out from the sun. It could use a new coat of paint. New spots where the top coat was chipping had appeared since your last visit.

About a minute the door swung open. Not a single syllable of “hello” was able to get out before you were being pulled into the darkness. Your shoulder blades stung from being shoved into the door, but that was only a minor thought in the back of your head as Yixing covered your lips with his. So soft, so sweet. As quickly and aggressive as he’d pulled you in, his touches were soft, like how you’d hold the person you loved.

If only he actually loved you.

It was three o’clock in the morning and yet you weren’t the least bit tired. Yixing was in the kitchen getting himself a glass of water as you shoved your foot into your boot. The two of you had had a short conversation about your lives lately (mostly prompted by you asking how he was), but it was seemingly over now. By the time you were standing up and slipping into your jacket, Yixing was waiting for you. He saw you to his door, that same intoxicating smile on his face. You never spent the night. That was one of the unspoken rules between the two of you. They were never written down or even verbally agreed upon; they simply were met.

You didn’t spend the night. He contacted you first. You didn’t tell your friends about him. You always came over to his place.

Most of them were for his convenience, but it wasn’t like you argued or pushed for anything that benefited you. The best thing would be to leave this. What a charming notion.

“Let me know that you got home safe,” he said softly. You never did, but he still said it every time. Acting like he cared was another one of his tricks that you fell for so easily.

Staring at him in the dim light from the street lamps outside - hindered mostly by the heavy curtains in front of the window – you wondered what would happen if you really did text him saying you’d made it back to your place without incident. Would he care? Would he send you a text back or tell you good night? Or would he ignore your message? Wouldn’t be the first time.

“Sure,” you lied. And like he always did, he placed a kiss upon your cheek before opening up the door to the waiting car outside. The place where his lips met your skin still stung, still vibrated from the contact.

“Good night,” he waved before shutting the door behind you.

You hardly looked at the driver as he took you home. You didn’t want to meet his eyes and feel the judgement rolling out of them. What else could be going on when a girl leaves a guy’s place so early in the morning, hair disheveled, guy shirtless, and a glassy look in her gaze?

Up the short porch steps you ran once you were back on solid ground. Your fingers shook as you struggled to find the right key to let you unlock the door. Inside the safety of your own walls where you could be alone, where you could breathe again.

The darkness engulfed you again once your feet hit the carpet of your living room. This time, there was no one waiting for you. There was no one here to embrace you. Only the empty feeling of loneliness was left to crush you.

Taking out your phone, you typed out “Made it safely”. Your eyes flickered to Yixing’s previous texts. You deleted your message and threw your phone across the room. It landed safely on the couch, the only good thing to happen to you tonight.

Under the heel of all your poor decisions, you crumbled to the floor. You’d managed to hold yourself together the whole way home, but now you let it all out, the sounds of your sobs your only company.

It’d been two weeks since you heard from Yixing. Surprisingly, you were doing fine. You hadn’t cried since that night. Once your tears dried up, you picked yourself up, stripped out of your clothes and fell asleep alone in your bed of cold sheets.

Now you were okay. You weren’t sure what happened that night, but something in you snapped. You didn’t constantly check your phone or think about him or fight with yourself on whether or not to contact him. Instead, you focused on work. You spent more time with your friends. You didn’t fake an illness or lock yourself up night after night in your apartment, coming up with excuses not to join anyone for dinner or a movie. You were living, like you were meant to be.

At the moment, you were wandering through a clothing store, stopping and looking at any piece that caught your eye. Your friend was complaining about her boss while she, too, shifted through the round rack of shirts.

“It’s just so annoying,” your friend grumbled as she picked up a shirt, held it against herself and then put it back, shaking her head. “Like, if you’re in charge, you shouldn’t say one thing is the standard policy and then go change your mind on every account. How are we supposed to accomplish anything that way?”

“Have you said anything about it?” you asked.

“No. Right now, venting about it is easier. But soon I’m go- hey, Yixing!”

You froze, a sheet of ice covering you almost instantaneously, seeping down into your veins. How could he be here? Why was he here?

“Hi!” His voice was cheerful, the exact opposite of how you were feeling.

Slowly, you turned around to face him. There was no smile on your face, especially after you caught his. It was the same polite, distant yet dimpled smile. The kind that was given to acquaintances, not someone you knew intimately. And he did know you, no matter how hard he tried to pretend otherwise. He knew every inch of your skin. He knew who you were when everything else was stripped away. The things you’d confessed to him, revealed to him before your nights together was over. That smile that kept up the wall was a betrayal you couldn’t even begin to verbalize.

“Hi, (y/n),” he greeted.

You waved halfheartedly. “Hey.”

Your friend sent you a curious look given your sudden change in demeanor, but she shrugged her curiosity away. “What are you up to, Yixing?”

“Just out buying a gift,” he said mysteriously.

“Ooo, for a girl,” your friend teased. An innocent enough joke. To you, though, it was just another twist in the knife.

“No, no,” Yixing laughed. “For my mom.”

You hated his laugh.

No, you didn’t. You loved it. The childlike way the giggles would vibrate in his throat, the way his nose scrunched and his smile grew to reveal the second, hidden dimple on his other cheek. It lit him up like the famous New York City New Year’s Eve ball that dropped at midnight. Truly, he might even shine brighter.

What you really hated was yourself. You hated how much you loved the details of him. The way he titled his head when he was listening intently. The strange way his face hardened and sharpened when he frowned or put tension in his forehead. As soon as he smiled again, everything softened, rounding out his features into that boy-next-door look that fit him so well.

You loved the expressions on his face when he was excited or surprised. His eyes would grow big and he’d look around in disbelief. When he cooked, he seemed so relaxed and concentrated at the same time. While his food wasn’t anything worth wild, you counted yourself lucky that you were able to experience a dinner or two made by him.

This boy could be playful, teasing in ways that weren’t cruel. Sometimes when you told a joke, it took him a minute or two before he would get it. The gradual transition in his features as the answer dawned on him was one you could watch for an eternity.

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” your friend smiled.

“It’s her birthday soon,” Yixing said. He kept his attention on your friend as if you weren’t even there.

“I’m going to run to the restroom real quick.” You didn’t even wait to see if your friend caught your lame excuse to get out of there. You needed to leave. Thinking about him in that way… well, you didn’t want to have a breakdown in the middle of the t-shirt section. You didn’t give Yixing a second glance as you left the store.

It took you a few minutes to find the bathrooms. In this mall they were located down a somewhat eerie hallway, but for once you weren’t concerned about that factor. You just needed a place to hide out. As rude as it was, you took the biggest stall, locking the flimsy door and sliding down to the floor.

You couldn’t keep going on like this. This wasn’t fair to you. While he could freely go about his day without the slightest bit of harm, you were constantly hurting. Even though you could numb the pain, it always came back, burning you worse than before.

There was no other choice. You had to let him go. This hatred that resided in your heart, you were afraid it just might kill you.

Your friend was a little perturbed at your sudden disappearing act, but after a few apologies on your end and an excuse that everyone with a uterus could understand, she forgave you. The two of you caught dinner at one of the nearby restaurants that served generic “feel good” food, but it didn’t do much in the ways of comforting you.

In the back of your mind you were trying to decide how to break away from Yixing. Should you simply block his number? Go to his place and tell him face to face?

Turned out, you didn’t have to make that decision as he made it for you.

You were almost ready for bed. At this point, you were simply procrastinating the actually going to sleep part. Tucked into the corner of your couch with your legs folded under you, you scrolled through different social medias. Nothing of interest was happening so you locked the screen, finally ready to head to bed.

Then it happened.

The phone rang in your hand. You stared at the device as it vibrated that familiar pattern, the one that you’d set specifically for him. The sensation ran through your fingers, up your arm, and into your heart. In turn, the muscle swelled, being torn in two. Answer. Don’t answer. Answer. Don’t answer.

The call flipped over to voicemail. You let out the breath you’d been holding, leaning your head back on the couch. You did it. You actually made yourself not answer his call. But the internal celebration didn’t last long before he was calling again. He had never done that in the past – called you back to back – so your self-control was suddenly depleted.

Your thumb swiped on the green icon.

“Hello?”

A sigh of relief. “Hey.”

You didn’t reply.

“(y/n)?”

This time you did reply. “Yeah?”

“I’ve missed you.”

No. Don’t do that. Please, don’t say that.

“I realized that… when I saw you today. Can I see you again?”

Your throat swelled as you tried to keep your composure. Taking the phone away from your ear, you held it against your forehead. You concentrated on your breathing, keeping it even, keeping it silent. You couldn’t let him know that he was breaking you.

“I can’t.” You were surprised that you were able to find those words in your vocabulary when you put the phone back against your ear. You thought they didn’t exist when it came to him. It turned out, you really were getting stronger.

“Oh.” At least there was a small amount of disappointment in his voice. “Are you… with someone?”

“No,” you answered honestly. “I just can’t keep doing this.”

A few moments of silence on his end went by before he asked, “What do you mean?”

Taking a deep breath, you unfurled the words that had lingered too long inside. “I can’t keep waiting around for you to call. I can’t keep hoping that maybe someday you’ll see me more than just something to help you feel less lonely. Because I’m lonelier than ever. I can’t keep letting you break my heart. Soon I won’t have anything less. So, no, Yixing, I can’t come over. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not ever again. I’m sorry.”

“(y/n), wait-”

You hung up quickly, before he could honey up the words it would take to pull you back in. With shaking hands, you went through the motions it would take to block his number. He was out of your life for good now.

So, why didn’t you feel relieved?

It’d been nearly a month since you said goodbye to Yixing. There were still nights where silent tears would roll down your cheeks. There were still times you would check your phone for missed calls or unread text messages, forgetting that you’d block any communication he could have with you. You were still weak, but as time went on, you found that picking up the pieces of your broken heart was becoming easier. The shards didn’t leave behind as many cuts on your fingers. Soon, you might be whole again, healed.

Your friends had noticed a change in you, too. You were happier, they said. When they asked what changed, you simply shrugged and shook your head. “It just happened, I guess.”

Tonight, you could really say that you were happy.

You were looking forward to a night out, hopping from bar to bar with your friends in tow. As you got ready, you found yourself smiling. There were no worries as to who you might run into or what excuse you might need to make a quick getaway. The rideshare app on your phone was only to be used to get you from different establishments, not anyone’s residence but your own. The blue door no longer haunted your dreams. You weren’t completely okay. You weren’t completely over it. That would take time. But you were hating yourself a little less. You were stronger than you thought. And that was worth smiling about.

A majority of your friends were already at the bar, given the amount of “Where are you?!” texts you’d received. You were quietly laughing at the group chat as you walked inside. They were all together and yet they still insisted on texting you separately. Following their directions, you made your way to the back of the bar where they said they were seated. But it wasn’t just your friends waiting for you.

Yixing was standing beside your mutual friend who was seated at the table. He seemed fine, engaging in conversation as if he wasn’t affected by your absence at all. Just like normal.

So focused on him, you didn’t see the poor waiter coming towards you with a tray of empty glasses until it was too late. The glass toppled down to the floor, the shattering sounds catching everyone’s attention.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” Immediately, you bent down to help the waiter with the mess you’d made. He tried to tell you that it was alright and that you didn’t need to help, but you didn’t listen.

A third pair of familiar hands came into view.

Knowing that it was the wrong thing to do, you looked up anyway. When your eyes met Yixing’s, a half smile grew on his face. Your heart was thumping hard in your chest, so much so that it was nearly painful. Each breath became shallower and your world started to tilt back and forth. Quickly, straightening up, you ran for the door, barely missing other patrons and waiters on the way out.

“(y/n), wait!”

You’d scarcely hit the pavement of the sidewalk when a hand caught yours, dragging you over to a more secluded area. As soon as he stopped, you yanked your hand out Yixing’s. The last thing you needed was take that contact and turn into something more.

“Please, just talk to me,” he begged.

“No,” you shook your head viciously. “We already talked. I told you. I can’t do this anymore.” You tried to walk away, but he jumped in front of you, blocking your path.

“I don’t want to do that anymore either.”

You stood there for a second or two, trying to decipher what he could possibly mean. “I don’t understand.”

He reached out and took your hand in his. “When I said I missed you, I meant it. I promise, I’ll do better this time around.”

“Do better?” you scoffed, pulling your hand back once again. He tried to hold on, but you were able to break his grip. “How do you plan on that? Making it a once a week thing instead of every once in a while? No, thank you. I meant it when I said I can’t do this anymore. I hate you. But what’s worse is how much I hated myself. How much I still hate me even when I thought I was getting over it. Because just when I thought I was getting over you, this happens. And I’m right back in that place. All I want is to tell you yes. But that’s not fair to me.”

Yixing blinked, letting your words sink in as his eyes slowly fell to the ground off to the side. “Please, don’t hate me. I care about you. I didn’t mean to do that to you.”

“It doesn’t matter, because you did it anyway.”

“Please, give me another chance. I want to be with you.” He stepped closer to you, meeting your eyes. He brought his hand up to your cheek, the pad of his thumb brushing against your skin in a way that made you lean into his touch. You thought of all those times he looked at you like you were something special, worth something to him.

But that was a dangerous road that led you here in the first place.

You wrapped your fingers around Yixing’s hand and gently pushed it away. “I need to think about it.” You still couldn’t tell him no. So, this was a compromise with yourself.

He seemed to accept that answer, nodding. “When you make up your mind… even if it’s to tell me to go to hell…you know where I’ll be.”

You nodded back. Then, before you completely broke down, you walked away.

For what seemed like hours you wandered around the streets, careful stay in the more populated, well lit areas while you tried to work through your own thoughts.

Did he really mean what he said? Did he really want to be with you?

He seemed sincere. Almost as broken as you were.

Back and forth the scales went, weighing the good against the bad. The heaviest consequence was your heart. The tape holding the pieces together was already beginning to peel away. You weren’t sure how much longer it would hold now that you’d seen him again. This promise being dangled in front of you… it was too good to be true. But you weren’t walking away like you should have. That would be the smart thing to do. The right thing. Each time you closed your eyes, however, you say the desperation in his face. In your ears, his pleas played over and over again.

Your feet made the decision for you.

At the end of his street, you debated. Your feet had brought you here without you realizing it so did that mean this was what your heart wanted? Were you willing to give it away completely? The chances of the same pattern beginning again were high, astronomically so.

You took a step. And then another. Again. And again. You didn’t even try to stop until you were outside his door. That blue door that used to mock you with its depressing color was now welcoming you with open arms. Your fist raised in the air, you knocked on the door, waiting patiently. The quick footsteps on the other side matched the rhythm of your heart, reigniting the hope inside.

“(y/n).”

#exo #zhang yixing #lay #yixing x reader #lay x reader #exo images #exo scenarios #exo one shot #angst #emily burns #Hate Me Too #I Hate You But I Hate Me Too

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