#maybe I shouldn't use the same book for everything

[candysparks]

Batfam X Reincarnated! Reader [but make it angsty]

I'm feeling angsty so saddle up for this one, also yes I'm writing this at 12 am once more? How could you tell (●'◡'●)

Quick disclaimer for canon-typical for violence, illness, death [lots of it], angst, and time loops. Also this makes, like, zero sense to me but I still wanna write it so yay!

The world always had a love for the dramatics. Everything on this planet has faced hardship after dramatic hardship without delay. It's no question as to why Reader was currently coughing up blood. They were sick, terminal even, and there was nobody to comfort them in their time of need.

Their family had labeled them as a 'financial burden' and cut off all contact with them aside from a once in a blue moon visit. It was supposed to be today but the weather was uncaring and unkind, it was like the sky had opened up to pour all it's tears out for the day. Roads were flooded and it was simply out of the question for people to be making drives.

Reader coughed once, then twice, and then for a final third time as something wet was expelled from their lungs. They looked down, ah...that was their blood, wasn't it? They didn't have time to call for someone, as this was a new development and something that shouldn't be happening, but they were attacked by an onslaught of rapid coughing.

It was getting harder to breath and there was a terrible pressure behind their eyes, like it was going to pop. And then something broke, a silent snap of the thread, and Reader couldn't stop the overflowing blood spill from their lips.

Distantly they heard the shocked scream of someone, maybe it was a nurse? But it sounded so familiar...there were hands shaking them in panic. Rough, calloused hands that felt like someone from their childhood.

Rough hands rubbed over their face as they let out a childish giggle. "Dad stop! You're gonna mess up moms hard work!!" And a rough laugh responded back with a fond voice. "Ah but you're such a cool looking tiger, look at how fearsome you are! I must tame you with pets so you wont feast on us poor folk" Followed by even more childish giggles from the two.

Reader wondered if this was the hands of their father, but brushed it off with a tired sigh. There's no way their father would be here, the roads were covered in too much water.

The book slipped from their hand and fell to the floor just as Reader closed their eyes. The last thing they could ever see through the blurriness of their vision was their fathers terrified and panicked face.

Guess he really did show up. How cruel of fate to do such a thing in this life..

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

Reader opened their eyes to a more comfortable bed, one without the itchy hospital blanket that was too thin for comfort. They raised a hand to their face and rubbed away the tears. They looked to the wall, finding the mirror they used to have in their childhood room before they moved.

They lost the mirror sometime during the, moving process and they never saw it again. They had to move closer to the hospital for their mothers treatment. Who would have guess that Reader would have the same illness as their mother later down the line?

Reader pushed away their thoughts, they didn't have time to think about that. This was the tenth time they've died in this universe. And just like the last ten times, they woke up back in their tiny ten year old body like it was all a bad dream.

"Why can't this end? What am I doing wrong? I've been here so many times..." Reader thought to themselves trying to understand this terrible time loop. In the first loop they had clung to their mother, afraid of their sickness. They hadn't died yet, only having been reincarnated into the DC universe as Bruce's neglected child who had a sad fate.

Their mother, Bruce's second wife, had an uncurable illness that would be later passed down to Reader due to genetics. It was one the writers made up for pure angsts reasons, there was no cure and it acted like the Hanahaki Disease. Not in a "I need my love to be reciprocate or I'll spit up flowers and die, or lose all my memories and feelings of you to get rid of them" but rather in the way that the lungs were filled to the brim with something that shouldn't be there and will continue to grow unless you get a new set of lungs.

They tried so desperately to keep the illness from developing in that life time, even trying to tell them of their previous life as someone from another universe. Their kind mother had only patted their head with a small laugh and praising them for how creative their mind was.

When it did develop, like it always does, they were branded as having cursed their mother by the public. Their father, who couldn't stand the looks they were giving his child so he decided that it was best for them to stay inside. So he locked them away without a word, and Reader was only let out for their mothers funerial.

Reader will never forget the feeling of betrayal, and Bruce will never forget the way his own child had glared at him with so much hate in their eyes. How could he do this to them? To lock them away and not let them visit their mother? How could he? How dare he.

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

In their next life Reader hadn't said a word about it to their mom, only clinging to them like a second pair of skin. Where ever their mom went they would follow. Yet she still died of the same illness on the 5th of May, just like clockwork.

The third and fourth played out roughly the same. Reader clung to their mom, attempted to be kind to Bruce and his own posse of children but was met with confused looks considering they spent most of their time in the hospital or in their room. They wouldn't die of the sickness, not in those lives, but rather that it was an attack that stole their life. In the third it was a gunshot to the stomach and they were left to bleed out in some warehouse.

In the fourth they were pushed out the way of falling rubble and had gotten impaled by some exposed metal wires. They knew it was an accident. Robin hadn't meant for them to get hurt that way, not ever. But it still happened. It still hurt. They could never make it past 18, always dying before their 19th birthday.

They couldn't stand to be touched in the next life. The weight of it all had gotten to them and they just...couldn't do it anymore. No false joy, no hiding away their sorrows behind closed doors knowing nobody would check on them. They had sobbed so much, and cried for so long that their tears had left them feeling hallow. The next lives just blurred together like sand slipping through their fingers.

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

This time was different. For lack of better words, it was weird. Their father had woken them up with a tight hug, sobbing into their shoulder like he was so afraid they might disappear if he softened his grip. Their mother had been woken up by the missing warmth of her husband and had followed him to your room.

She didn't say a word, only hugging the both of them as tight as she could. After that night things started to change from Readers past memories. When Bruce took in Dick, he didn't forget about them after a while. He made time and an effort to include them into his plans, to hangout with his friends.

And when Bruce introduced Jason? He had looked at them like he was seeing a ghost, like he was looking at someone he knew had already died but still couldn't come to terms with it. Reader would never accept it but they had a feeling that people were starting to remember their past lives as well.

Tim had been the most normal. He didn't look at them like a ghost, didn't cling to them like a tick. He had just sat next to them in the library and asked them about their day. And Reader would like to mention they did not tear up at the question, no that would be a bit silly. It's not like they've been waiting eleven lifetimes for someone to ask them, no certainly not.

Steph had invited them places, treated them like they've always been apart of their friendship. Like it was the most natural thing to do in the world. Like in another life time she didn't avoid them like she knew they were dying and didn't want to stick around.

Cassandra was the second best thing to normal in this life. She hadn't deviated, nor had she had some twist in her personality like she was privy to information she couldn't share. No, she had done what she always did and silently offer her support. A tissue when no one was looking during a sad play, a pat on the back when Reader was looking down, and pat on the head when Reader felt like they were simply fading into the background once more.

But Damian? He avoided them at first. like he couldn't stand to see their faced. To him Reader looked sickly, so close to death, that it scared him. He was afraid to touch them but at the same time he just wanted to hold them close and never let go. He couldn't get the images of their death out of his mind.

The way they looked pale when he found them in the first life, frozen solid with nothing but a blanket to keep them warm during the night beside their mothers grave. The way they had seemed so at peace in their final moments, like it didn't matter at all. The way he found them once more in the second life, having died in a car accident near the harbor. Their body submerged in water had floated to the top, mocking him as if saying that this could have been avoid had he shown up sooner.

He found them bleeding from their stomach, beaten and bruised and so incredibly pale. Then he was the cause of their next death. He'll never forgive himself for that. Never. He should have known that it was exposed, should have pulled them his way instead of pushing them. How could he be so stupid? Then he found them in the next, and the next, and the next, and the next, and the next. Pleaseletitstop, hessorrypleasejustletitstop. Because fate hates him so much for how he treated Reader in the first life, he found them in all the other lifetimes too all except the last one.

Bruce had found them. Coughing up their lungs with a pained look, realizing that they were dying just like their mother was and he couldn't stop it. He was unable to do anything, all he could do was shout their name in panic as he tried to keep them awake and- oh god where the hell were the doctors?!

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

In this life time the Wayne family had remembered. And cursed with the fruit of knowledge they did everything they could to keep Reader safe from all harm and away from the prying eyes of the public. This time they would do it right. They'd make sure that Reader's mother would survive, they'd do anything to keep the two of them alive this time around.

And if they had to use the Lazarus Pits to do so then so be it.

[cheapshrimpysheep]

Sharing a Bed

SUMMARY: When they built the bungalow, they couldn't make an individual bedroom for each person. Or a bed for each person. So, they'll have to choose the person with whom they will share the room... and the bed. And the boy you're secretly dating ends up paired up with you in one of those beds.

CHARACTERS: Riddle Rosehearts; Ace Trappola; Jack Howl; Azul Ashengrotto; Floyd Leech; Lilia Vanrouge

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Beginning of Relationship

WARNING: Spoilers from Stitch's Tropical Turbulence (JP: Lost in the Book with Stitch ~Midsummer Sea and Spaceship~)

WORD COUNT: An average of 920 words per character.

COMMENTS: Okay, after reading it a second time, what I think Jack meant was: Since they couldn't make individual rooms for everyone, they made one living room big enough for everyone instead. But that's not what I understood the first time, and the way I understood it was more interesting for me to write something about :3

CONTEXT: You two are at the beginning of your relationship and no one knows. Let's also say that Floyd didn't use the back door for the bonfire.

They couldn't make individual rooms in the Bungalow or single beds. They only got materials to make 3 beds big enough for 2 people to sleep in each. And 3 bedrooms where they placed each of the beds. Which meant that 6 people could sleep in pairs on the beds, Grim and Stitch were small enough to sleep well on the couch/armchairs and 1 person had to sleep in the living room with them, maybe on the couch too. And someone comments about you and Grim being a package deal.

Riddle was the first to say that you shouldn't sleep on the couch just because you usually sleep in the same room as Grim.

You should sleep in a bed and, like the gentleman he is, he offered to sleep on the couch instead, more concerned with your well-being than with the possible jealousy he could feel depending on who you slept next to.

“Objection!” Lilia said playfully. Riddle looked at him in surprise. “I should be the one sleeping on the couch. After all, I can easily sleep in a cave and I'm small enough to fit comfortably on the couch. You guys should have the beds. A good night's sleep is important for growth.” He smiled. Riddle may or may not realize it, but Lilia did this mostly for the two of you.

“So how do we divide ourselves between the beds?” Jack asked.

“Firstly, you shouldn't sleep with people you don't feel comfortable with.” Riddle said. He, Jack, and Ace looked mostly at Floyd, but also at Azul.

“Those looks directed at us after such advice are quite hurtful.” Azul says with his performative sadness. “But, Riddle, can I ask why you said you instead of us?” he asks with a smirk.

Riddle couldn't hide his caught reaction. And he's not the type to make excuses, so he was sincere: “In fact, that slipped from me.” he said, slightly blushing “The truth is, I hoped I could be paired with [Y/N].” he looks at you “If you're comfortable with that too, of course.”

You say that you are, and with two shy smiles directed at each other, your pair is decided. The other pairs were Ace with Jack and Azul with Floyd. Both Jack and Ace didn't want to be with either of the other two and Ace used the excuse that Azul and Floyd had known each other for a long time to justify the pairings.

❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Riddle's Bedroom ❤️

He let you in first and closed the door behind him. When you look at him, you realize that he is thinking about something, something that troubles or bothers him. You ask if everything is okay.

“I... I know I was the one who invited you to share the room with me... but...” You ask sadly if he wanted to exchange with someone else. “No, no, no! It’s not that. I will always choose you. I even did it without thinking... and maybe that was the problem... I...” he blushed a little. “I didn't want you... to sleep with anyone else. Although at first I offered to sleep on the sofa, which would consequently mean that you would have to share the bed with someone other than me. *Sigh* Why can't I think straight?” he whispers to himself. “Sorry, I'm straying from the initial question. What bothers me is... I'm sure I'm breaking a rule.”

You ask what rule. You wonder if it could be any Heartslabyul rule? Or maybe from the Queendom of Roses? Or could it be...?

“I think it would fit into a rule of etiquette. My mother is completely against this. We are no longer mere acquaintances, or just friends. These types of things cannot happen before...”

“Marriage?” You ask. He blushes again.

“I know it's too early and we're too young to talk about this but... yes...” You say that if he feels more comfortable swapping with someone else... “NO! That's out of the question! I'm not going to force you to sleep on a sofa and WHOEVER SLEEPS WITH YOU I WILL HAVE THEIR-!” He stutter, and clear his throat. “I mean... this is the best option.” He's embarrassed for shouting in front of you. “My apologies for that.”

You reassure him that it is okay. He wasn't yelling AT you and you know he's still learning to control his anger. You say that all rules have exceptions, and in cases like these, on a desert island where it is already lucky that there are beds, perhaps they are exceptions to certain rules. Sometimes the rules of survival override the rules of etiquette. Maybe if he thinks he's not breaking a rule, but following its exception.

He thinks for a moment “You are right. If we think about it this way, it is also against the rules of etiquette to eat with your hands, but it is foolish to try to impose it when there are no conditions for it. Yes, you are right, we must prioritize our well-being and health.” There's a cute and awkward pause “Um, do you have a preference for the side?”

If you have a preference, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.

As soon as you lie down and get ready for bed, you might be surprised by how naturally Riddle kisses you on the cheek. “Good night, my rose.” If you look at him, you will see a sweet smile and caring eyes looking back at you.

If you want to return the kiss you can do it on his cheek as well. Lips are still reserved for special occasions only. And he'll press his forehead to yours, your noses almost touching for a moment before you finally turn over to sleep. And if you open your eyes while he's doing it, you'll see the loving glow in his eyes.

You begin to sleep separately and perhaps even in different directions, but sleep and dreams are revealing. Eventually you will begin to unconsciously move closer to each other, until he has his arms around you and your head is resting close to his chest.

If you wake up in the middle of the night to the sound of one of Gantu's robots outside, Riddle won't even process the fact that you're suddenly so close. He goes straight from sleepy mode to protective mode on instinct. His gaze will be completely focused on the closed window and you will feel his arms moving you closer to him. If you make a sound, he'll put a finger to your mouth and whisper a calm shh.

Only after the robot leaves will he realize how he is hugging you. His face will immediately turn red from the blushing and he will move slightly away from you apologizing.

If you show yourself comfortable being so close to him and even more protected, he will end up giving in and letting you continue sleeping together as you were. You will definitely hear his heart beating fast until he finally manages to relax and fall asleep again.

After that, you will start to get used to sleeping like this. He will always wake up before you and wake you up with a kiss on the forehead. “Good morning~ Did you sleep well?”

“Hey, [Y/N] shouldn't stay on the couch just because Grim is going to be in the living room.” Ace says. “At least it doesn't seem fair to me.” he looks at Riddle hoping he would share the same opinion.

“Surprisingly I have to agree with Ace.” Riddle says.

“See? Wait... what do you mean surprisingly?”

“The person who will sleep on the sofa” Riddle continues, ignoring Ace's observation. “should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes not having a stature too large to fit.”

Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.

“Kehehe. Of course, I have no problem sleeping on the couch. It even looks quite cozy from my point of view. Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled, Stitch smiled back and Grim said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”

“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.

“Dibs on pairing with [Y/N]!” Ace hurried to say.

“Aw, koebi-chan was my next choice.” Floyd comments.

Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Jack would mind pairing with him. As Jack respects him a lot, he says he doesn't mind and his tail starts to wag, slightly honored that Riddle shows some trust in him. Azul and Floyd end up paired up with each other.

❤️ Bungalow - Yours and Ace's Bedroom ❤️

As soon as you two enter the room and Ace closes the door, he picks you up playfully. And he even tells you not to make any noise as he laughs softly. He takes a few steps and lays you down on the bed.

“So, do you have a favourite side or do I choose?” You or he chooses sides and you lie down. “Ahh~ Finally something that isn't the floor of a cave to sleep in~” he says next to you.

And then you remember something: It wasn't the first time Ace suggested you two sleep in the same bed. The first time was when the riddle locked a collar around he's neck for the first time and he had to sleep in Ramshackle Dorm. And the second was when Azul got Ramshackle Dorm and you had to find another dorm to sleep in. Before going to Savanaclaw, Ace suggested you sleep with him when they commented that Heartslabyul didn't have extra beds. So you comment that he finally got the sleepover he wanted so much.

“Hmm? What do you mean?” He asks. You remind him about the first time he came to sleep in your dorm. “Well, in that case I just didn't want to sleep on the couch. But you made me sleep in it anyway.” he looks at you with a sulking face, and then a smirk. “You know, now that I think about it, maybe I should have let you sleep on the couch. So we were even.”

Then you ask why he didn't try to do that when you were left without your dorm. That was the second time he suggested sharing a bed. And you caught him by surprise for a second.

“Hmm... well... Do you think the Housewarden would let that happen? I can even imagine myself losing my mind over the audacity of being so rude to a visitor. Or Queen of Hearts knows what dorm rule that would break.”

If you remembered correctly, he suggested sharing a bed AFTER Jack offered to shelter you in Savanaclaw.

“And yet you chose Savanaclaw.” he sulks cutely again. “And slept in Leona's room.” he murmured.

You say something like: “Aw, is this jealousy~?” And he rolls over, facing away from you. You get closer to him, saying that he doesn't need to be jealous, and nothing happened, Leona also only did that because he was forced in a way and you needed a place to stay.

“That's why I slept with Deuce.” He tells you. You exclaim a surprised "WHAT?!" and he turns to grab you and make you lie down clinging to him.

“Got ya!” he laughs. “And keep your voice down, remember?” He whispers. “You really fall for it? Ha ha. You should know me better than this.”

He yawns, which makes you yawn too.

“I'm really tired. We should just sleep. You don't mind if we sleep like this, do you~?”

They complained about the heat outside , but inside the bungalow, at night, it's actually a little cool. So it's kinda comfortable to sleep almost hugging each other. So no, you don't mind. Quite the opposite. He kiss you good night, and you two fall asleep.

In the following nights, there are chances that you two make out a little there before going to sleep, if your not too tired. He will never wake up grumpy, because every time he hears the sound of the waves and sees you lying next to him, he realizes that this is the best vacation ever.

Jack wasted no time in speaking his mind: “I don't think [Y/N] should sleep on the couch just because Grim is staying in the living room.”

“Fufufu... Why? Do you think [Y/N] should sleep with you instead?” Lilia asked with a smirk to tease him.

Jack blushed a lot! “Wha-! NO! That wasn't why-” He put his hand on the back of his head. “I mean, I wouldn't mind, but I was just thinking that it's not fair for them to sleep on the couch just because of Grim. We should take into consideration whether [Y/N] have trouble falling asleep here or not.”

“I agree with Jack” Riddle said. “In fact, we must take into account each person's needs in something as important as rest. I believe you would agree as well, Lilia.”

“Yes, you boys are right.” Lilia said with a smile. “In that case, I volunteer to stay on the couch. From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”

“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.

“So...” Jack turns to you, still slightly blushing. “Now that you don't have to sleep on the couch, would you like to pairing with me?” As soon as you say yes, or whisper something like "of course, silly" his tail starts wagging.

“Well, we already know who the first pair for the beds is.” Lilia comments when he sees Jack's tail moving wildly from side to side. He tries to make it stop and you see his ears lower in embarrassment.

Seeing his options, Riddle asks if Ace would mind pairing with him. And also analyzing his options, Ace says he doesn't mind. They are even from the same dorm, maybe it would even be better to pair up like that, you know? Being in the same dorm, people are more comfortable with each other, right? (They got it, Ace)

💛 Bungalow - Yours and Jack's Bedroom 💛

As soon as the two of you enter the room and Jack closes the door, he will ask if you have a preference for which side of the bed you sleep on. When you look at him, you see that he is still trying to contain the wagging of his tail. You remind him that he doesn't need to do that when it's just the two of you.

“Oh!, Ya, force of habit I guess.” And so he lets his tail wag freely. Fortunately there is no furniture or objects that it can hit.

If you have a preference for the side of the bed you want to sleep on, he will sleep on the other side, if not and one side is closer to the door, he will sleep on that side. If you ask why this choice, he will say that he heard that the most protective person in the relationship is often on the side closest to the door in order to be able to protect their significant other against intruders.

“I feel like the weather gets cooler now at night. That’s good.” Jack comments.

In fact, it's nice to rest with cool nights after spending active days in the heat of the beach, and you tell him something like this.

“Y-ya. That to...” He rubs the back of his neck, and you ask what he was thinking then. “Well, I was thinking... about this wolf thing...” he blushes a little “I think you've already noticed that, like wolves, wolf beastmen couples are also quite affectionate.” He can’t look at you right now because he can feel the way you’re looking at him. And so, looking at you will only make him blush even more. “And there's this thing...” he inhales to gain more courage to speak and sighs. “We like to cuddle and sleep together ok...” This is very difficult to admit for a Tsundere at the beginning of a relationship, especially for someone who is not a beast(wo)man.

You probably laugh at how cute he looks when he's so flustered. You ask if that's why he's happy that it getting colder at night. Because if it was too hot you wouldn't be able to sleep cuddled together. He confirms.

“From your laugh and smile, can I guess that you would like that too?” He smiles confidently, his tail wagging.

You open your arms showing that you do, and he wastes no time in hugging you and laying you down in bed with him. He also doesn't wait to start caressing your face with his nose and giving you soft kisses on your cheeks. He tries to control his tail so it doesn't hit anything and make noise.

The first time he kisses your lips will be to say goodnight, but if he's not tired enough yet, this won't be the only goodnight kiss before you fall asleep in each other's arms.

He will always be the first to wake up and wake you up. You will always wake up with his arms around you and a passionate kiss on your cheek. And with him always trying to convince you to get up and not be tempted to stay in bed late. He wants to spend another day with you, for as long as possible.

“Oh, poor [Y/N]” Azul comments. “Being forced to sleep on the couch just because of their companion. That doesn't seem like a very fair deal to me.” He says with a smirk.

“Despite the tone of moral superiority, Azul is right.” Riddle says. “It's not like Grim needs someone to watch over him at night. Or so I hope.”

“Of course not! I'm not a baby!” Grim complains. “I can sleep in a separate room from [Y/N]. The question is: can my hench-human sleep away from me?”

“Ah, I believe [Y/N] will certainly be in good company.” Azul comments, and before anyone could question what he had just said, he continued. “The person who will sleep on the couch should be chosen taking into account who is least likely to have problems sleeping well on it compared to others. This also includes having a physical size that makes them feel comfortable on a couch.”

Everyone looked at Lilia. Who looked behind him as a joke.

“Kehehe. Of course, I have no problem sleeping on the couch. It even looks quite cozy from my point of view. Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled, Stitch smiled back and Grim said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds?” Floyd asked. “Hey kingyo-chan~ do you want to stay with me?”

“I'd rather sleep on the floor.” Riddle answers. Floyd laughs because he already predicted that.

“Well, in that case. Koebi-chan~?”

“Sorry Floyd, but I don't think so.” Azul answers, with a smile but a cunning look.

“Oh ya?” Floyd was also smiling with cunning eyes. “And why don't you let Koebi-chan answer for themself?”

“For sure. I was just trying to soften your rejection.” He gives Floyd one last smug smile before turning to you. “Tell me [Y/N], would you like to sleep next to Floyd or next to me?” You reply that you would like to sleep next to Azul.

“He he. I already knew it.” Floyd says with a genuinely amused expression. “I just wanted to see how Azul would react.” And before anyone could question those phrases, he turns to the other three and asks: “So what will the other pairs be?” With a smile knowing that he is creating a fun chaos.

Riddle, Ace and Jack look at each other. One of them will have to share a bed with Floyd.

“Ace!” Riddle says. “You should be the one paired with Floyd.”

“Wha-?! Why me?!”

“Because firstly, the bed wouldn't have much free space if either of you were paired with Jack. And secondly, you and Floyd are basketball teammates, you must get along well enough right?”

“You just don't want to be the one to pair with him and because you're my Housewarden you're ordering-” He stopped when he saw Riddle starting to get angry. “I mean, yes, of course, those are excellent arguments. You're absolutely right, Housewarden!”

Meanwhile, Floyd laughs with amusement.

💜 Bungalow - Yours and Azul's Bedroom 💜

Azul enters after you and closes the door. He sighs when he sees how simple the room is. “If we weren't in these circumstances, I would have found a luxury resort for us.”

You tell him that he has nothing to worry about, that despite everything, the others managed to make the room cozy and pleasant. And what matters most to you is being in it with him. He smiles, puts one hand on your waist and caresses your cheek with the other.

“Always seeing the bright side, my pearl.” He gives you a tender kiss on the lips. “Now, tell me, do you have a preference for the side of the bed where you would like to sleep?”

You lie down side by side.

“I am so glad we get to sleep under a proper roof tonight.”

“Azul...” You ask. “Would you really leave us on the island if none of us made a deal with you?”

“Of course not, darling.” He turns on himself to face you. “But I'm a businessman. And what kind would I be if I didn't take advantage of any business opportunity?”

You make a muffled sound, not liking his response that much. He comes closer to you. “I wouldn't do anything like I used to, I promise. Maybe I'd only have them working at Mostro Lounge for a week or so. And no anemones on their heads to force them to obey me, I swear.” He was smiling slyly saying this.

You look away from him, rolling your eyes. “I repented.” With a gentle finger on your chin he makes you look at him again, he looks into your eyes lovingly. “Seen the light, made a switch. I would never leave you on a desert island. Even if I had to turn you into a merfolk to do so.” He smiled. “I wonder how you would look like.”

“And the others?” You ask.

“Hum? I wasn't thinking about them, but I'm also curious to know what they would be like in mer-form, yes.” He answewrs. You laugh and say no,that that wasn't what you were asking. He sighs. “Fine, fine... I wouldn't leave any of them on a desert island.” He says, partly in admission, partly to make you happy.

But then his smile fades for a moment. He caresses your face again.

“I hope you're not like that with everyone. Not everyone deserves such benevolence. You and your tender disposition will only be taken advantage if you let them.” You could see the concern in his eyes.

You assure him that you know it, and that you're not like that with everyone. They were your friends, it was different and he knew it. He smiles fondly.

“I wonder what kind of deal we made to have someone like you in our lives. And mainly...” He brings his lips closer to yours. “...what I did to have you for myself.” and you kiss.

You will always wake up with his arms around you. You're between him and the window because he's going to use you to hide his face from the light while he's in the process of waking up. But as soon as he's more awake, he'll kiss you good morning and start the day with you.

“Koebi-chan and I pair up to sleep in one of the beds. Now you guys fight to see who gets to stay on the couch.” Floyd decides with an amused smile, completely ignoring any comments about you usually sleeping in the same room as Grim.

“HOLD ON!” Riddle says. “You can't just decide something like that without the other person's consent!”

The truth is that since you were dating, Floyd assumes that you would like to take advantage of that opportunity to share a room with him. But since no one else knows about it yet, he plays along. He also likes that your relationship is still a secret to see the confusion on other people's faces in situations like these.

“Okay~ Hey Koebi-chan, do you want to share the room with me~?”

You say yes, clearly of your own free will, which reassures Riddle and the others. And in that case, they will have to decide the pairs for the beds and who sleeps on the couch.

Ace suggests choosing at random, like whoever draws the shortest straw stays on the couch, and Azul is the first to go against this suggestion. Riddle is the second.

“I volunteer to stay on the couch.” Lilia said with a smile. “From what I saw in the cave, I'm the one who has the least problems sleeping.”

“Mendako-chan could sleep on a battlefield, hehehe.” Floyd comments. Lilia also laughs at this observation.

“Furthermore I'm going to have two really fun roommates.” Lilia smiled at Stitch, who smiled back, and at Grim, who said something about him being a great roommate. The others looked at you for a moment when he said that to see your reaction.

Of all three, Riddle was the least uncomfortable pairing with Azul. So they formed a pair and the other two freshmen formed another.

💜 Bungalow - Yours and Floyd's Bedroom 💜

You two enter the room, Floyd closes the door and goes directly to lie down on the bed. Taking up the whole bed.

“So, what do you think of our room? Pretty cool, han?” In fact, the room was decorated with very beautiful, sparkling seashells. They were all sorts of colors: orange, red, purple, green, pink, white. And they look like painted porcelain.

“So you also like dead shellfish?” He says. “Kingyo-chan and Uni-chan too. They were fawning over these shells when we found this spot. It was fun to see their faces when most of the shells they had collected started moving on their own. They had picked up hermit crabs without realizing it. I told them to leave the pretty spiral ones alone and pick out the flat, practical ones to use them as plates. And when we were working on the bungalow I went to where they had left the shells and used them to decorate the room. Just a warning, don't scream too loud if one of these corpses is still alive and pokes your leg at night~”

He laughs looking at your reaction. “Exciting, isn't it?” You complain, saying you want to sleep peacefully. “Fine, fine, I was just kidding. Do you think I don't know how to tell the difference between seashells?” You say that, precisely for this reason, he could put a hermit crab in your room on purpose. “Hahahaha. You know me too well, Koebi-chan. But nah, that crab could poke me at night and I don't want that either.”

You were still standing, looking at him with his arms and legs spread out like a starfish taking up the entire bed.

“Won't you go to lie down with me?” He asks with a smirk.

“Where?” you ask “You're taking up the whole bed.”

“Here!” He attacks you with a hug and forces you to lie down in his arms. He squeezes you affectionately, and without hurting you, of course. He yawns. “And? Where is my reward for making such a pretty room for us~?” He asks with inviting lips very close to yours.

You kiss him and feel him reciprocating lazily, but sweetly.

“And for being one of the people who built the bungalow?” You kiss him again. “And for making such a good dinner?” and again. “And the bonfire was also a good idea, wasn't it?” and again “And didn't ya like my music?” and he will continue to remind you of things for you to pay him back with kisses until he simply gets tired and you two just make out until you fall asleep.

When he wakes up in a good mood and excited about the day, he can pick you up and force you to get up too. If he wakes up feeling sleepy and wants to stay in bed longer, he won't take his arms away from you, forcing you to continue being his bodypillow until he's in the mood to get up.

And that someone who commented about you and Grim being a package deal was none other than Lilia himself. And yes, you were shocked. Was he going to miss an opportunity like this?

And unfortunately for you, everyone agreed. You even fit well on the couch. And during that whole time Lilia had his usual smile as if nothing had happened.

“So who will be the pairs for the beds then?” Floyd asked.

“Why don't the two of us pair up, Floyd?” Lilia suggested “I'm sure it will be fun.”

“Okay~”

Everyone else looks relieved, even Azul. And while the remaining four decided on their pairings, you looked at Lilia for a moment. And, knowing that no one else was looking at you two, his smile became sly, he winked at you and put on his innocent smile back again.

The pairs ended up being Azul and Riddle, and Ace and Jack, since neither of these two wanted to be paired with Azul and, despite everything, Riddle didn't mind.

That night, you lie down on the couch. Both Grim and Stitch curl up to sleep. You curl up to get comfortable and close your eyes to fall asleep.

You had already fallen asleep when you felt something touch your nose and a familiar voice whispering "Boop". You open your eyes and see Lilia lying next to you, smiling. Wait... lying on your side? But the couch doesn't have that much space. Your vision adapts and you see that you are no longer on the couch, but on the bed in one of the rooms.

💚 Bungalow - Yours and Lilia's Bedroom 💚

“Fufufu. Surprised?” He could see that in your face.

You ask him how, what, when...? He laughs.

“I knew that none of them would want to sleep on the sofa, and that the chances of me being chosen to sleep on it, if we got to that point, were too high for I had an easier time sleeping wherever it was.” His look becomes sly, like the one he gave you while the others were deciding the pairings. “But if you were the one sleeping on the couch, I could find a way to get the person I was paired with to switch with you. Octavinelle students love deals and I would have an easier time getting a deal like this with Floyd than with Azul. After making sure he was in a good mood for it of course. Which is also very easy for me. I mean, who would be in a bad mood in the company of someone as adorable and fun as me?” He rests his chin on his hands and gives you his cutest smile to prove his point.

You ask him what deal they made and he smiles slyly again.

“Don't worry, my dear. It takes more than a intelligent teenager with mood swings to outsmart me. And let's say that Azul can be more difficult to convince.” There is a short pause. “I hope you can forgive me for waking you up. You looked so cute sleeping, but I really wanted to surprise you. Did you like it?”

You did! But you still tell him how you felt when you were deciding who slept where.

“You know the saying: All's fair in love and war. Of course I wasn't going to miss an opportunity like this, but I had to make sure we stayed together. And knowing my opponents and who my best allies would be, I knew this would be my best strategy.”

You still seem not completely convinced, or at least you pretend you're not.

“Aww... don't do this to poor old me~” He says dramatically “You can't imagine how hard it was for me to see your disappointed face when you were chosen to sleep on the sofa. My heart sank as much as seeing a companion injured in combat next to me. But we needed to be strong if we want to end up together!”

You laugh to see him act so melodramatically. He holds both of your hands, and looks deeply into your eyes, with a mix of a sweet smile and a smirk.

“And now that we're safe in each other's arms, maybe we can heal our wounded hearts.” And if you allow him, he will kiss your lips.

He will always wake you up with a kiss or by bopping your nose. And if you feel lazy he will force you to get up by being cutely annoying. Even if he has to hold you in his arms to do so. C'mon, the days are beautiful and he can enjoy the beach with you, he wants to enjoy every second before it ends.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[wosospacegirl]

Stuck with you - part 11

Summary: Y/n’s used to Alexia’s overprotectiveness and the pressure of her career—but Kika? The shy, socially awkward teammate who’s starting to make her feel things she didn’t expect.

Warnings: old crushes returning; Y/n's good at forgiving, and her teammates are good at apologising; plus Y/n's really not a fan of tight spaces, and she's emotionally attached to a napkin.

Word count: 6.5K

a/n: treat this kindly because I feel like I've fried my brain trying to write it *cries*

..

The drive to the airport was absolutely suffocating in silence from both Alexia and Y/n. Saved only by the song playing on the radio. The leather seats of the car felt too sticky against Y/n's back, the hot summer weather making her sweat more than usual. Maybe she shouldn't have worn a crop top.

The air conditioning wasn't cold enough, and it had a weird pine smell that mixed wrong with Alexia's shampoo and Y/n's body spray.

Alexia hadn't said a word, not after Olga had told her to leave Y/n alone and stop playing matchmaker.

Olga had probably given Alexia another earful when Y/n wasn't around, because Alexia's jaw was set in that hard line Y/n had come to recognise over the years, which meant she was either angry or feeling guilty.

Given the whole situation, probably both.

But Y/n didn't mind the quiet. She liked it. Needed it right now after everything that had happened the night before.

The kiss replayed in her mind endlessly. The way Kika's eyes had widened in surprise, her lips soft and warm for just a moment before Y/n pulled away in panic. 

The way the room had gone dead silent, all their teammates staring. Y/n had felt exposed, bare, and she was sure Kika had felt the same.

During the drive, Y/n saw messages flooding in from her teammates–Vicky, Jana, Salma, Esmee, and so many others–all saying they were sorry for how they had acted, how they had been playing around with her and Kika's feelings like it was some elaborate game.

Y/n hadn't talked to any of them after what happened last night.

She had declined Jana's call and ignored Vicky's constant texts. The girl had even sent SMS messages (that's how desperate she was to apologise). But Y/n wasn't ready to talk to them.

She was still hurt. It still felt too fresh and too raw.

She knew she would see everybody at camp too, at least all the Spanish girls, so she wouldn't be able to hide from them much longer.

Still, she needed time to think. She loved her friends and teammates, but they had orchestrated something that went way beyond harmless teasing. They had manipulated both her and Kika into that moment, and now everything was ruined.

The worst part was that Y/n had been falling for Kika for the last few months. Although their 'friendship' wasn't really something to be proud of.

First, Y/n screamed at Kika when she told Alexia about the injury, and then they made amends, but it didn't last long because Kika had told her she only called her to the book club date because she didn't want Y/n to feel lonely.

And that's how everything got worse.

Y/n pulled away from Kika, and her teammates–Alexia included–decided to play dolls with them.

Now Y/n was left wondering: Did Kika think it was all a setup? It was all part of some cruel joke orchestrated by Y/n?

She really hoped not.

Yes, the kiss they shared wasn't necessarily romantic. Y/n initiated it for the worst reasons possible: out of anger, but it didn't mean Y/n didn't want to kiss Kika at all.

Damn, it was all she had been thinking about for months.

Now, the aeroplane's air felt thick. Y/n never liked how the windows had to be closed, how everybody had to breathe the same air, how it didn't seem like enough for everybody.

She always felt trapped on planes. She didn't like places with no way out, or well, she didn't like places where the only way out was through the troposphere.

The constant hum of engines was annoying and only added to Y/n's anxiety, but still, it wasn't enough to drown out Y/n's spiralling thoughts.

There was still silence between Y/n and Alexia, but the silence still felt good. Alexia was buried in her phone and earbuds, leaving Y/n alone to think about whatever she wanted to think about.

Y/n found herself thinking about everything that had happened between her and Kika since she had first shown up at training with a bunch of pastéis de belém–that's what they were called, if Y/n wasn't mistaken.

Y/n remembered it because she had this vivid image of how Kika's lips would press together before parting while making the 'P' sound.

She had been fascinated by Kika's mouth from the very beginning, apparently. 

And then she remembered she had kissed those very same lips less than 24 hours ago, and now she wasn't going to see Kika for about a week–they were going to play against each other.

The thought made her chest tight with something between longing and dread.

She was so far gone…it was embarrassing.

When she realised she was spiralling, panic began to grow in her chest.

Every conversation, every interaction with Kika over the past three months played on repeat. Too much had happened between them, too many small moments that had felt significant, too many misunderstandings, enough that Y/n could count them on her fingers.

It felt too overwhelming, thinking about Kika, the kiss, the book club, her teammates... but then Y/n had an idea, and the uncomfortable feeling in her chest began to settle.

It was replaced by something more manageable.

Logic!

Y/n had always loved logic. Logic was never wrong. Logic was great for making things understandable, for making it all piece together, or at least showing where the missing puzzle pieces were.

It was what had helped her understand complex tactical formations when she was younger; what helped her understand that football wasn't just about kicking a ball around; it was what helped her break down opponents' weaknesses during strategic training; it was what calmed her tumultuous mind.

Maybe the whole situation wasn't as catastrophic as she had initially thought. Y/n just needed to approach it rationally, step back and view everything from a third person's perspective.

Break it down into pieces she could manage.

It was just like football. 

You would never understand a match if you looked at it as a whole; you had to see the players first, their strengths and weaknesses, before analysing how they interacted with each other. That's how you read a team's style of play and finally win a game.

She could do the same thing with her life.

When the pilot announced they would be landing in thirty minutes, Y/n pulled out a napkin and a pen and began to work.

"What are you doing?" Alexia asked, glancing over. Her earbuds were still in, but Y/n could hear Rosalía's voice through the volume.

The guy behind them coughed for what felt like the thirteenth time that flight, and the baby a few seats down began crying again. The flight attendant hurried past them.

It was a lot of noise for one flight, too much noise if Y/n wanted to create a good, practical mind map of her life.

"Don't talk to me," Y/n muttered, writing a large 'K' in the centre of the paper, for Kika. "I'm still mad at you."

She drew an arrow from the K and wrote 'book club' in a small box. That's how it had all started, how she and Kika became something.

From there, she wrote, 'feels pity for me'. The words made her cringe, but she pushed through.

Two branches sprouted from that box. 'Does she even like me as a friend?' One path led to 'no' and then to 'cry'. The other led to 'yes' and then 'maybe there's hope.'

If Kika still liked her as a friend, maybe she'd have a chance to explain, to apologise, to make it right. If she didn't... well, then Y/n would have to live with the consequences of that kiss for the rest of her life.

This was actually helping. Seeing it laid out made it feel more manageable, more like a problem that could be solved rather than a disaster that would ruin everything.

Next, she drew another arrow from the central 'K' and wrote 'Alexia' in capital letters.

"Why are you putting horns on my name?" Alexia protested, pulling out one earbud and looking down at Y/n's napkin. Y/n ignored her, continuing her map.

She drew a whole section dedicated to her teammates' scheme.

And finally, she wrote the word 'charade,' and from that, she drew a line to 'kiss' and felt her cheeks burn just writing the word.

The kiss branched into two possibilities: 1. Kika liked it, or 2. Kika didn't like it.

If Kika liked the kiss... Y/n drew a small heart next to 'potential.' Maybe she had a chance.

Maybe they could talk it out, and Y/n could ask Kika on a proper date, where nobody was watching and nobody was pulling strings as if they were puppets. Or maybe they could just sit somewhere quiet and get things straight, be friends again.

If Kika didn't like the kiss, the branches got more complicated.

One branch led to 'Violated consent', which led to 'massive and extreme apology needed.'. The other one led to 'Feels manipulated.'

Both branches converged at 'probably hates me now,' which had an arrow pointing at 'friendship over' and then 'avoid Kika forever + leave Spain + try to find another club.'

Y/n stared at her napkin map, her chest tight. The worst–case scenarios looked pretty catastrophic when laid out like that. Maybe the situation was as bad as she thought it was.

"I feel sorry for you," Alexia said, studying Y/n's paper with genuine concern. "I think you might need actual psychological help."

"This is psychological help," Y/n defended, though she could hear how pathetic it sounded. "My paper helps me think."

Alexia looked at her like she was looking at a confused puppy. "You should talk about Kika with your friends, not draw... whatever this is."

"You shouldn't even say anything! It's all your fault," Y/n said, her pen hovering over the napkin. "You and the girls kept putting me and Kika in those awkward situations until I cracked! Why did you have to give me that stupid charade anyway?!"

"I wrote 'girlfriend' because I thought you would hold Kika's hand or something cute like that!" Alexia threw her hands up in exasperation. "I didn't think you would actually kiss her! In front of everyone!"

"You orchestrated the whole thing," Y/n shot back. "Don't pretend this wasn't exactly what you wanted."

They sat in tense silence for a few minutes, and Y/n felt the plane beginning its descent more rapidly now. She clutched the armrest between her and Alexia, trying to see if it would calm her down.

It didn't.

Then the seatbelt sign was on, and Y/n buckled herself in, feeling even more trapped than before.

Y/n didn't understand why they had to take a flight to Madrid; they could very well use a car or something, it would be way less scary... At least the crying baby had finally quieted, but now the guy behind them was snoring extremely loudly.

Y/n would need help figuring this out, actual help, not weird arrangements made by her teammates.

She could start by asking Alexia for information about what happened after. She had, after all, practically sprinted from Jana's apartment the moment her and Kika's lips separated. She felt too confused, too panicked and embarrassed to look at anyone, especially Kika.

"Was she upset?" Y/n finally asked, her voice smaller than she intended.

"Who?"

"Who do you think, Alexia? Kika!" Y/n was going to commit murder, and the Spanish national team would be without its captain.

"I don't know." Alexia shrugged, which was absolutely not helpful. "She looked... confused."

"Confused how?"

"Just confused! As confused as someone would look if someone had kissed them out of nowhere, nena!"

"Oh god, you are absolutely useless."

"Ay, I much preferred when you weren't talking to me." Alexia rolled her eyes. "You give me a headache."

Y/n decided not to talk with Alexia until they were safe on land again.

She needed to find the strength not to call Alexia every single bad name she could think of.

When they landed, they quickly went to get their baggage.

The car that was going to pick them up from the airport wasn't there yet, so they moved through the crowd of people to a small Starbucks on the left side of the airport.

Alexia and Y/n had, annoyingly, the same coffee order: black, no sugar. They drank their coffee and shared their dinner in silence.

Y/n decided to try again.

"Did she seem angry?" Y/n asked as she took a bite of her doughnut before giving it to Alexia, who also took a bite. "Or like... disgusted? Hurt? Something like that?"

Alexia took a drink of her coffee before answering.

"She asked where you went," Alexia said, "after you left. She seemed... worried, maybe? She didn't look mad or anything, just a bit concerned."

Y/n's heart did something weird in her chest. "So... she asked about me? And not in a 'I don't want her to come back' way?"

"Sí. She kept looking at the door like she expected you to come back." Alexia said. "But I told her you probably needed some time alone. She wanted to follow you, but Jana told her not to."

Y/n quickly looked through her tote bag and found her napkin. She straightened it before taking her pen and adding a new branch to her map: 'Kika asked about me' with an arrow pointing to 'cares???'

The napkin looked too small for this whole situation now.

"I'm gonna throw this napkin away," Alexia warned.

Y/n held it close to her chest. "Try me."

..

La Ciudad del Fútbol smelled like grass and carnations, the pink flowers Y/n loved so much. Y/n was very accustomed to Ciudad; it had been Y/n's second home since she was sixteen.

When the car was parked, Alexia and Y/n stepped out. The girl from the marketing team was already filming them.

Y/n didn't like being filmed or photographed like that, without warning, but she always tried her best not to seem so grumpy. She knew the fans appreciated content on the players, so she smiled.

Alexia, of course, stole the scene without even wanting to. Her presence always brought attention to her, even though Alexia herself also didn't like that attention so much.

Y/n hugged a few Spanish girls who were playing abroad, like Mariona and Laia, who both felt like Y/n's older sisters when they used to play for Barcelona a few seasons ago.

And then came Leila.

Y/n knew she was truly in love with Kika when she saw Leila Ouahabi walking toward her and didn't feel like all the air in the world had suddenly gone missing.

(Past)

After breaking up with her ex, Laura, some years ago, Y/n had desperately searched for distractions. 

She had obviously tried football, but that didn't work since it was already her life. 

She tried making music but discovered she wasn't poetic at all–and when she drew blood from her fingertips trying to learn guitar, she gave up entirely.

Hobbies weren't really things that helped Y/n forget her problems anyway. She just turned them into obsessions, which made everything worse.

So she tried a different method, one Jana had taught her, and it had actually worked.

"Stop trying to fill your head with things," Jana had said. "Try filling it with girls instead. Pretty girls."

Or in Leila's case, pretty women, since she was in her late twenties at the time (a lot of years older than Y/n).

Y/n did exactly that. After breaking up with Laura, she was actively trying to pick someone, anyone, to develop a crush on. Yes, pick, because Y/n didn't naturally fall for people easily. Well, Kika wasn't included in that assessment since Y/n was older now, but back then, feelings didn't come naturally to her.

She decided she should look for a Spanish girl, but not one from Barça, that would get messy. Someone from the national team, though, would be perfect.

They wouldn't see each other often, so Y/n could focus on school and football, but they would still have to see each other at camp. The girl wouldn't be able to hide from Y/n there.

Maybe Alexia and Y/n had the same problem with ambushing people. 

Back then, Y/n had struggled to actually pick someone. She was one of the only teenagers, hell, the only teenager at camp. She should have been in the under-17s, but here she was.

All the other girls were older, and they obviously wouldn't date her. 

Y/n was so desperate to find someone to crush on and forget about Laura that she had even considered going after a girl from Real Madrid who was only two years older.

 But her dignity was stronger than her desperation, and also her fear of Alexia literally kicking her off the team if she found out.

So Y/n gave up on that idea.

She tried doing other things instead. At La Ciudad del Fútbol, they had running tracks, and Y/n figured that since she was a footballer who played almost 90 minutes (Romeu still didn't let her play full games), she could handle some sprinting.

The truth was, she couldn't.

But there was someone who could.

Leila Ouahabi.

It was an early morning, and Y/n had just finished her first attempted run. She was sweating, smelled terrible, and was overall not pleasant to be around.

Laura had just posted a picture with the girl she had cheated on Y/n with, so she wasn't having a great day, and it was only 7 AM.

"Hey, kid!" Leila called, waving and jogging in her direction.

Leila was 29; Y/n was 16 at the time. Y/n knew it wasn't possible, by law and so many other factors, that they would ever date.

But Y/n became obsessed with that woman the moment she saw her.

Leila hadn't been at Y/n's last camp due to injury, so this was the first time they would really talk, beyond saying hi when they had first arrived.

"You're Alexia's, right?" Everyone used to call her 'Alexia's' back then. 

Alexia was like a protective vulture when Y/n was younger; she never took her eyes off her, not even after camp. She treated Y/n like a kid, which, at the time, she was.

"Y-yes," Y/n stammered. Fuck, she stuttered. 

She just couldn't help it. Leila was pretty. Very pretty. 

If Y/n hadn't had her first gay panic watching She-Ra years ago, she definitely would have had one right then and there.

"Hi! We didn't get to talk much yesterday," Leila stepped closer, a warm smile on her face. "I play in England, Manchester City."

"That's the blue one or the red one?" Y/n asked, immediately realising it was a stupid question when Leila laughed at her.

"The blue one, kid."

That camp, Leila had taken Y/n under her wing, calling her the little sister she never had. 

She even said it was funny how much Y/n reminded her of Alexia. They didn't come from the same family, of course, but they had the same mannerisms, the same competitive spirit.

It was easy to say Y/n was smitten right away. She felt like a puppy whenever Leila gave her attention, and by attention, she meant Leila passing her the water bottle during training without even looking at her.

She tried to be close to Leila, but not too close. Not to the point where it was weird.

When the team was having lunch, Y/n would sit at the same table, just a few chairs down. If the manager asked the younger ones to pair with older players during drills, Y/n would run from Alexia and quietly plant herself next to Leila, waiting to be chosen.

It was pathetic. And ridiculous. But also a little sweet.

Alexia noticed what was happening. At first, she wasn't sure what to make of it. She thought about telling Leila, but she knew Y/n would be crushed if she did. So instead, Alexia tried to talk to her. Casually.

She had been on the national team from a young age, too. She knew what it was like to have a crush on someone older. Hence her ex, Jenni Hermoso. But Jenni had only been four years older, and legal. Y/n definitely wasn't.

Alexia wasn't nervous about anything happening. Leila was a normal person who didn't feel attracted to teenagers. Plus, she had a girlfriend.

Now, Y/n was lying on her bed, trying to read a book Alexia had assigned for school. Alexia sat on the edge of the mattress, going over how to approach the topic. She decided honesty, directness, and an 'inviting tone' were best, or at least, that's what the parenting forum had said.

"I have a crush," Alexia said completely out of the blue.

Y/n immediately looked up from her book, as if she had been waiting for any excuse to stop reading.

"I would hope so," Y/n said. "You have been dating Olga for like two years."

Alexia ignored what Y/n said and continued.

"You used to have a girlfriend," Alexia replied, trying to build the connection the forum insisted was essential. A bridge to show that teenagers weren't so different from adults.

It didn't work. Y/n's face fell. "Wow. Thanks for the reminder."

Alexia scrambled.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that! I just mean... I have a girlfriend, you had a girlfriend, we all like people at some point in our lives!"

Y/n blinked. "Alexia, what are you trying to say?"

Alexia chewed the inside of her cheek. What was she trying to say? Honestly, she would much rather let Olga have this conversation.

"I'm saying that... having a crush on someone is completely normal," she said, trying to sound eloquent. "It's healthy, even."

The forum had said that liking someone showed that teenagers were developing complex relationship pathways in the brain. So technically, this was a good sign, neurologically speaking.

Y/n glanced around as if checking if Alexia was really talking to her and not anyone else. "Okay….good to know."

Silence again.

"But," Alexia added carefully, "crushes are only good if they're appropriate."

She knew she had hit something when Y/n's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed. 

"Well, yeah. I agree," Y/n said quickly, grabbing her book again. "I need to read this whole chapter before dinner, so–"

"I know you like Leila," Alexia said gently, watching Y/n let her forehead fall onto the open pages.

"Oh my god. Not this conversation," Y/n mumbled. She peeked out from behind the book. "Please?"

"It's an important conversation!" Alexia insisted.

Y/n shook her head. "No, I don't think it is."

"She's older than you," Alexia said. "Older than me."

Y/n made a face. "Ale, don't make it weird."

"I'm just stating facts. I'm glad you're over Laura, but... you're sixteen. You're a girl. And she's a woman."

"I get it," Y/n said, sighing. "It's just a stupid crush."

Alexia tilted her head. "Then why not have a crush on someone else?"

"Have you seen your players, capitana?" Y/n shot back, in that petulant teenager tone Alexia hated. "They're all older than eighteen. The youngest one is Teresa, and she's from Real—"

"Don't say the name of that club in front of me," Alexia said, putting her face in her hands.

Y/n rolled her eyes. "See? I don't have many options."

"What about someone from Barcelona, then?"

"Nah," Y/n said. "Things would get blurry."

"But it's only a crush, right? A small crush wouldn't make things blurry."

Y/n just shrugged, not really sure what Alexia wanted from her.

"What about Jana?"

Jana was in the Barça B team at the time, but she and Y/n were already good friends. Alexia had that hopeful light in her eye (the one that said she was really trying to be this responsible guardian). So Y/n told the truth.

"We kissed once," she confessed. "After Laura broke up with me. It didn't feel right, though, the kiss."

Alexia was surprised. Very surprised. But she kept her face neutral; the forum had warned against showing too much emotion. Apparently, teenagers didn't like that. The forum didn't explain why.

"Oh," Alexia said carefully, very slowly. "So you two kissed."

Alexia was most definitely not waiting for that.

Y/n nodded, a little impatient. "That's what I just told you."

"And you still chose Leila?"

"Yes," Y/n said. "She's pretty. She's talented. And it won't go anywhere anyway, so you don't need to worry about it."

Alexia looked at her for a moment.

"I would worry about you anyway."

..

(present) 

The second day of camp was always for medical evaluations, fitness tests, heart monitoring, and injury assessments. 

Usually, Y/n loved these days; she liked how clinical they were. She liked to measure her body's capabilities; to know what her extremes were…but today everything felt off.

She was running on the treadmill between Alexia and Leila Ouahabi, and the positioning felt symbolic somehow. Past and present, the crush that had never been really real and Alexia, who reminded her of the whole situation with Kika.

It was Y/n's first time at camp since she met Kika, the first time Y/n saw Leila in months.

Three years ago, she would have been hyperaware of every breath Leila took, every word she spoke. Now, Y/n barely registered her presence.

The contrast was startling. 

What she had felt for Leila had been safe, a one-sided infatuation with someone who would never see her as anything but Alexia's little protégé. It had been more about the fantasy than the person.

With Kika, everything was different. Kika saw her as Y/n, not as a prodigy or a project, just as herself. 

Y/n knew that because Kika never went out of her way to talk about Alexia, she never made Y/n feel like she was Alexia's shadow.

And that's what made this so terrifying.

With Leila, rejection would have stung but not surprised her. With Kika, Y/n had started to believe something might actually be possible, if both of them didn't make it all so very hard and awkward when it could be easy and simple.

Alexia and Leila were discussing the upcoming matches, their conversation washing over Y/n as she focused on her breathing and the steady rhythm of her feet on the treadmill belt. 

Her sad girl playlist was doing its job, adding just enough melancholy to her workout so she could feel like she was in an MTV video clip.

When the doctor cleared her from the fitness tests, Y/n waved goodbye to Alexia and Leila and headed toward the dormitories.

Since turning eighteen, she had had the option to room with someone other than Alexia, a freedom that had felt fantastic at the time. She and Jana had been roommates at every camp for the past years, and they had developed a comfortable routine.

But right now, Y/n absolutely did not want to see any of her teammates. She wanted to shower, maybe cry a little, and figure out how to survive the next two weeks without making everything worse.

When she opened the door to her assigned room, Y/n was ambushed.

Not only was Jana there, but Vicky, Salma, and Ona were crowded into the small space, all wearing identical expressions of guilt. 

The room smelled like too many different body sprays and the lingering scent of the coconut protein bars Salma always carried with her after training.

Y/n immediately tried to back out and close the door. Maybe she could shower in Alexia's room, or find an empty bathroom somewhere.

But Ona was faster, catching the door and gently but firmly guiding Y/n inside.

"No, please stay," Salma said, her voice soft but insistent. "We need to talk to you."

"We're so, so, so sorry," Jana said as Ona closed the door behind them, trapping Y/n in the room. Her dark eyes were wide with remorse. "What we did with you and Kika wasn't right, and we know it."

Y/n looked back at the door, then at the girls again. She didn't like close spaces.

"We acted like stupid teenagers," Ona added. "We didn't think about how it would affect you and Kika. You both deserved better than... whatever that was."

"We shouldn't have hidden the chairs at the restaurant," Vicky said, her voice small. "That was manipulative and… kind of bad."

"Or convinced Carla to always film you two together for media day," Jana said. "We made it into this whole production when it should have been private."

"We turned your feelings into entertainment," Salma said quietly. "That was cruel."

The peace and quiet that Y/n had desperately craved was shattered as the girls began talking over each other.

"Esmee wanted to apologise too," Jana said, pulling out her phone, "but she's in training. She made me promise to tell you she feels terrible and to video chat with you."

"And Frido," Vicky added, showing her own phone with a FaceTime call already connected. "She's been worried about you since last night."

Suddenly, Y/n was staring at Frido's concerned face on the small screen, and she could hear Esmee's voice in the background of Jana's phone.

"Sweetheart," Frido said, her voice filled with guilt. "I'm so sorry. We thought we were helping, but we were just being selfish. We wanted to see you happy, but we went about it all wrong."

"We should have let you and Kika figure things out naturally," Esmee's voice added from the other phone. "Instead, we turned it into this whole thing."

"Do you forgive us?" Vicky asked, now holding both phones up. Y/n felt like she was on that Big Brother TV show.

Ona launched into another explanation about how she should have known better, given her own relationship with Lucy, and how privacy was important, and–

"SHUT UP!!" Y/n finally exploded, the words coming out of her with enough force to make all four girls go silent. 

"Can you please be quiet! Can you please give me time to think? To shower! To exist without everyone having opinions about my life!"

The silence that followed was heavy. Y/n could hear her own breathing, it was harsh and fast, and she could hear the distant sound of other players walking past in the hallway outside. She just hoped they didn't hear her tantrum. 

"I know you guys are sorry," she said finally, her voice shaking, but just slightly.

"I know you didn't mean to hurt me. But you did. You took something that was private and personal and turned it into a show of some sort. And now..."

She trailed off, not sure how to explain that they had potentially helped Y/n ruin whatever she had going on with Kika.

"Now Kika probably thinks I'm part of some prank," she finished quietly. "She probably thinks I kissed her out of despair, which I did...But I didn't mean to."

Jana's face crumpled. "Baby, I'm sorry this is happening. I'm sure if you tell Kika everything, she'll understand."

"Will she?" Y/n asked, and she hated how small her voice sounded. "Because from where I'm sitting, it looks like I only kissed Kika to shut you guys up."

"We just wanted to help, but well…" Ona said gently. "We just... gave you a push. Maybe too big of a push."

"You've been gone for Kika since the day she showed up with those pastries," Vicky added. "We just thought... if we created opportunities..."

"...you'd figure it out," Salma finished. "But we should have let you do it at your own pace."

Y/n stared at her friends, these people who knew her better than almost anyone, who had watched her struggle with her feelings and had genuinely thought they were helping.

The anger was still there, but it was complicated now. It was mixed with understanding and exhaustion, too.

Y/n sank onto one of the beds, forgetting for a moment that she was mad at the girls. "I have to talk to Kika… I hate this feeling that I hurt her or that I crossed a line with her."

The room fell quiet again, it was less confrontational, somehow.

"For what it's worth," Ona said quietly, "She didn't look mad after you kissed her, she just looked very surprised."

Y/n glanced up at her. 

"Yeah, Alexia told me that," Y/n said. "But Kika is too nice of a person, I don't think she would look mad even if she was."

"I feel like Kika is a genuine person, though", Jana said. "Whatever we did or didn't do, it doesn't seem like she felt hurt by the kiss. I'm not saying you guys shouldn't talk about that, but I am saying that I don't think you should be thinking about the kiss as something that ruined whatever was happening between you two."

Y/n pulled out her crumpled napkin mind map, staring at the branches and arrows that had seemed so logical on the plane.

Now it seemed like not everything could be solved with logic alone.

"Okay," she said finally. "I forgive you. All of you. But next time you want to help with my love life, maybe just... don't."

The relief in the room was almost palpable, and Y/n found herself smiling despite everything. These were her friends, her teammates, her chosen family. They had screwed up, but they had also apologized, and Y/n knew they meant every word.

Now she just had to figure out how to talk to Kika without dying of embarrassment first.

She had one week to figure out what she wanted to say. One week to decide if she was brave enough to tell Kika the truth about her feelings.

One week to figure out if logic and heart could coexist.

..

Y/n was sleeping in her bed, well, she was trying to. She had done everything in her power to fall asleep, but her mind would not turn off.

She had tried to just close her eyes and pretend to be asleep. That didn't work. She tried to turn around, but her arm went numb; she tried her other side, and her left arm also went numb.

She sat on the bed and looked to her side. Jana was sleeping deeply. Y/n carefully got up from her bed and made her way to the window. It was open, and the wind coming through was making the curtain swing back and forth.

Jana had argued with her just before they went to sleep about whether they should leave the window open or not. Y/n had rolled her eyes and said that the room needed some fresh air, that they should leave it open.

Jana disagreed. They always had the same fight every time they shared a room. Jana liked closed windows and locked doors. She liked enclosure; it made her feel safe.

Enclosure made Y/n feel trapped, caged in. She liked it when the doors were unlocked and when the windows were open wide.

She had told her last therapist about this. About this fear of closed spaces, the fear of being confined, how it was hard for her to fly on planes, to take elevators.

She didn't mind it so much if she got locked in a familiar space; she knew someone would come and get her if needed, but tonight, the dormitory felt too tight, felt too inhospitable, maybe that's why she couldn't fall asleep.

Y/n thought about taking sleeping pills. Her therapist had given her a prescription, and it wasn't prohibited by the doping committee. But she chose not to take them; instead, she quietly walked out of the room, going to the kitchen.

The staff had all gone to bed, but Y/n knew where they hid biscuits, the cook had told her when she was sixteen, after a bad day of training, seeing how upset she was. After a few years, they were still there.

Y/n sat on the floor behind the sink while she munched on the buttery snacks. There were crumbs all over her pyjamas; she didn't care about those, but she did care about those that ended up on the floor. She was going to have to clean the floor.

"You always do this."

Y/n turned around, guilty, holding the package of biscuits as she looked at Jana in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing a ridiculously big pair of pyjamas without any socks on.

Y/n would have told her that she was going to catch a cold if Y/n still believed that touching the cold floor could actually give someone a cold.

"Do what?" Y/n asked, continuing to eat her biscuits as Jana cleaned the spot next to her from crumbles before sitting down.

"Stress eating," Jana said as she took one biscuit from the package and began eating it herself.

"I don't," Y/n mumbled.

"You do," Jana said. "Ever since we were teens."

"And you always do this."

"Do what?" Jana asked, confused, mid-chew.

"Eat the food that I'm stress eating."

Jana rolled her eyes. "I commiserate with you."

"I don't know what that word means."

"It means to share in the woes of another," Jana said, lifting her finger as if explaining a genius idea.

"Do I have woes?" Y/n asked.

"Yes," Jana said. "Very loud ones."

"Hmm," Y/n hummed. "I thought I was being quiet enough."

"Not with the way you're chewing those biscuits."

They sat in silence for a moment, crumbs gathering around them with each bite they took.

Y/n nudged Jana's foot "Thanks for... being here."

"Where else would I be?" Jana leaned her shoulder gently against Y/n's.

Y/n looked down and realised they had eaten the whole package.

"Do you plan to text her?" Jana asked. "Or wait until you see her on the pitch?"

"I plan to hide in this kitchen until a miracle happens," Y/n said. "Maybe I won't be so confused anymore."

"That's the miracle you're wishing for? Not being confused?"

"No..." Y/n paused. "The miracle I wish for... is for me and Kika to kiss again."

..

a/n: I'm very tired, so im sorry for any typos. I could proofread it more, but I just wanted to post it.

I hope u guys liked it! Let me know your favourite part :P

Tag list: @footy-lover264 , @fortifyde, @naomigirmadefender , @neutraiise , @milkveed, @browercc , @ace-of-baked , @ikzzzya , @sky-the-trans-guy00 , @knight-16, @wosohk04, @evaissleepy13, @papimapileon , @unpoppablebubbles @whiskeredshrimp-blog @goodloe-e @liloandstitchstan @s0ciety-cxv @dfwspky @karmajn @awosofavs

[burningcheese-merchant]

I think more ppl need to see this

Yeah for real lol. That's exactly what it is with him. Not to toot my own horn too much but I believe this post I made ages ago hits the nail on the head haha

"I'm bored" is... technically true. In a sense. Personally, I think it's a very simple and vague allusion to the real problem. That thin sheet of snow coating a massive, freezing cold iceberg. Just barely obscuring it from proper view.

imo it's been a bit disappointing seeing people take to extremes with Burning Spice's character. I've seen people either woobify him, downplay or excuse his actions by saying "he's not evil! He's hurting! He's depressed! He doesn't hate people, he's lashing out because he can't internalize his pain anymore!", or just demand he be put to death immediately on sight without trial. You can like a morally repulsive character and sympathize with their issues while also acknowledging that they're repulsive and need to face justice for their crimes. Burning Spice is one of my favorite characters, I love everything about him, he's sexy as fuck, I understand why he's the way he is, I'm still happy to see his ass beat because he's a piece of shit and he deserves it lol.

Not to throw shade at "simpler" villains ofc. I love me some assholes that are assholes just because they can be. Like Jack Horner in Puss in Boots 2. But Burning Spice isn't Jack Horner and he honestly shouldn't be. The deeper, sadder, more complex reasons governing his actions suit him better than just "I'm bored fuck this shit" and nothing else ykwim

and of course, he's still wrong. Burning Spice's view of the world is wrong. Does a book begin just to end? Does a song play just to finish in a few minutes' time? No. They begin so that we may read, listen, and enjoy. So that they may make us laugh, or have us shake our heads in disappointment, or tell us some hidden truth. Make our days and lives a little more interesting than they were before. Life is beautiful BECAUSE it is fleeting. Born, grow, wither, born, grow, wither. Yes, that's how it goes. But there's so much more to those things than just what we can gather from those three words. Every day is different. Though the sun rises every morning without fail, it's never quite the same color, is it? Always a bit of a different shade of yellow, orange, red, bleeding into the sky a little differently each time. There are so many things to see and do, games to play, people to meet and love and cherish. Maybe some of those things and those people won't be here someday but that doesn't mean their existence never meant anything. We are not born to die, we are born to live. We must die for those who are to live, and live for those who have died. Regardless, we must never lose sight of the intrinsic value of all that surrounds us. Burning Spice very much did. Underneath his bitterness and anger and (not unfounded, to be fair) lamentation for the unstoppable cycle of life and death is a deep-rooted selfishness and fundamental lack of understanding and appreciation for life and other people. In the face of despair, he gave in and chose evil. He was and is wrong for doing so, regardless of why he did it. He could've stepped down. He could've just admitted he didn't have what it took to be the Herald of Change. Hell, if he really hates being alive so much, he would've committed suicide a LONG time ago. But he never did any of that; instead he chose to inflict an equal or greater suffering on everything and everyone else, even the undeserving. And for that he MUST pay. And Golden Cheese, with her personality and her experiences and the wisdom she came to attain when faced with the exact same despair as Burning Spice, is exactly the right person to make him do that

[no-goodbyes-no-regrets]

If you’re still taking prompts, Tommy spending time with Maddie?

Oh I like this!

----

"At least this time it was planned." Maddie offered

"Yeah... And the nurse did say everything is going according to plan earlier."

"But you still worry."

"Yeah." Tommy chuckled. "I convinced him to get it done now so he'd be back on his feet by the time the little one starts walking."

Maddie smiled and rubbed her pregnant belly.

"Yeah I think he is looking forward to meeting his family. He's about to walk right out of there in a minute. Jee wasn't this restless."

"I guess he takes after his father then. I've never known Howie to be calm and relaxed." Tommy commented "Well... off the clock at least." he added after a beat and they both laughed.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, drinking bad hospital coffee and Tommy's eyes fixed on the door.

"What about you two?" Maddie asked.

"Hmm?"

Tommy reluctantly tore his eyes away from the door and looked at her.

"One of these." she gestured at her belly.

"I don't think either of us is at risk of getting pregnant any time soon." Tommy deadpanned and laughed when Maddie slapped his bicep.

"You know what I mean. Am I going to be an aunt any time soon?"

Tommy sat up straighter and played with the lid of his coffee cup.

"We've talked about it. Marriage, kids... the whole nine yards... and we want the same things..."

"But..." Maddie prompted.

"But... not just yet." Tommy shook his head. "We've only been back together about six months. And the last time we rushed into things it didn't go so well. So one step at a time for now."

"Isn't he moving in with you when he's discharged?"

"Yeah but that's because he's going to need a lot of help. Especially the first few months. And those stairs in the loft are lethal."

"He managed before..."

"Maybe. But he doesn't have to anymore now. I have a bedroom and a bathroom on the ground floor at my place and the stairs aren't so damn steep, he can easily manage them with crutches if needed."

Suddenly the door opened and one of the doctors walked up to them.

"Evan Buckley's family?"

Tommy was on his feet in seconds.

"That's right. How is he?"

The doctor gave him a tired smile.

"The operation was a success. No complications. Straight out of the medical text books."

"So he's ok?"

"He has a long road to recovery ahead of him, but I don't see why he shouldn't make a full recovery in due time." The doctor told them. "He'll still be asleep for a while, but one of the nurses will come get you when they've gotten him settled back in, in his room and you can sit with him."

Tommy let out a sigh of relief while Maddie thanked the doctor before they left the two of them to it again.

"He's ok." Maddie said, slipping her arm through Tommy's. "He's ok."

About ten minutes later a nurse came to get them and took them to Buck's room. He was still fast asleep but apart from a pulse oximeter on his finger and a cast on his leg, he looked just like he would on a regular day at home.

Tommy sat down next to the bed and softly brushed the curls off his forehead, while Maddie sat down on the other side and held Buck's hand in hers.

"You know he always hated that?"

"Hated what?"

"His curls. People playing with them." Maddie explained. "I used to do it when he was little but when he got old enough to pick his own hairstyle, the curls were gone and everyone was forbidden to touch his hair. I think I still have some pictures of when he gave himself a haircut when he was about 12 or 13."

Tommy grinned.

"If you can still find them, I'd love to see them."

"I'll get Howie to look for them." Maddie promised. "But what I'm trying to say is... he's changed since he met you. For the better."

"I did tell him I liked the curls once... He hadn't had time to get a haircut in a while and his hair was getting longer and the curls just made him look... soft." Tommy smiled, running his hands through Buck's hair.

Maddie smiled.

"Not just the hairstyle. Or wearing clothes in his actual size instead of at least two sizes too small." She laughed. "But he's... more comfortable in his own skin. He's content. Happy in a way I've never seen him before. And that's down to you."

"I don't know about that..." Tommy ducked his head.

"I do." Maddie insisted. "You're good for him. You're good for each other."

Buck began to stir and groaned as he opened his eyes. He rolled his head to the side and smiled when he saw Tommy.

"Hey you." Tommy said and got up to press a kiss to the top of his head. "Welcome back. How are you feeling?"

"Hmokay... better when the room stops spinning... and there's only one of you. is my leg still there?" he reached out to touch his leg and then realised someone was holding his hand. He turned his head and saw his sister. "Maddie!" he said happily, like he hadn't seen her in years.

"Hi." she giggled and squeezed his hand. "They've got you on the good stuff, huh."

"They fixed my leg." he explained. "Tommy said I should do it now. For the baby." He frowned. "Not our baby." He turned his head back to the other side to look at Tommy. "You're not having a baby... right?"

Tommy bit his lip to stop himself from laughing.

"No, no I'm not. But your sister is."

Buck turned back to Maddie.

"You're having a baby?" he asked, and then noticed her pregnant belly. "You're having a baby! Wait... i-is that Tommy's baby?"

"What? No!" Maddie said and both her and Tommy burst out laughing. "I don't think I'm really his type."

"Yeah, sorry, I prefer the other Buckley." Tommy said laughingly.

Buck frowned.

"Who?"

"You." Tommy told him and softly kissed him. "I'm going to get a nurse. Let them know you're awake. I'll be right back." He got up and left the room with Buck looking at him with a dopey smile that wasn't just the anaesthetic.

"I love him." Buck declared, still looking at the door.

Maddie smiled and gave his hand another squeeze.

"I know. He loves you too."

"Yeah? Yeah!" Buck replied answering his own question. "I'm going to marry him. I have a ring." he said, just as Tommy came back in with a nurse.

"Hello mister Buckley, glad to see you awake." the nurse told him as she quickly checked him over. "The operation went well, and you should be able to go home in a few days."

Buck nodded and turned to Maddie.

"You need to call Eddie for me. He has the ring. I need it... for Tommy. I'm going to marry him."

"I'll call him." Maddie promised. sharing a look with Tommy over the bed.

"Good. I'm just... sleep..." Buck mumbled as he started to drift off again.

"He probably won't remember this conversation when he wakes up again." the nurse told them. "I'm guessing you're Eddie?" she asked Tommy who shook his head.

"I'm Tommy. And I guess I better start working on my surprised face."

---

send me a prompt and I'll write you a fic(let)!

[incognit0slut]

Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene III: The Close Encounter)

The tension between you and Spencer finally snaps as you find yourself sharing the same bed.

Part warning: sexual tension and (finally) heavy kissing Words: 1.6k A/n: this is relatively short because I got really busy this week😭 i’m so sawry

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

You weren’t stupid. You knew exactly why he kept that book on his lap the entire time. It just seemed wiser to pretend not to notice—not just for his sake, but for yours too. The less said, the better, especially when your own reaction had been anything but subtle. Because who the hell would moan at the slightest touch? Who would shudder and gasp from a mere brush of fingers across the skin?

Well… you, apparently.

You couldn't believe he managed to fluster you this much. This was Spencer. Spencer. Someone so complicated in your life, the same guy you swore you'd never let yourself get close to. Yet here you were, pulse racing and cheeks hot, all because of a few innocent touches that shouldn't have meant anything.

No, you were probably too caught up in this stupid situation. It was the only explanation that made sense, that had to be it. And now, you needed to pull yourself together. A reset, perhaps. A way to snap back to reality and remind yourself that everything was just a performance. Because there was no way in hell that these feelings were real—they couldn't be.

So you did what you did best: you kept your distance. Not completely, but just enough to keep the act while building an ever taller wall between you. You touched his arm occasionally, you even leaned on him when others were around. But whenever it wasn’t necessary to be by his side, you avoided being alone with him.

Until later that night.

You had been so focused on avoiding him that you completely forgot the dread nagging at you since this morning. You lingered with the girls, laughing over the last drops of wine until you somewhat felt the slight buzz of alcohol in your system. It was close to midnight when you finally made your way back to your room, only to stop dead in your tracks.

The bathroom door swung open just as you entered, and there he was—fresh out of a quick shower. His hair was slightly damp, carelessly flopping onto his forehead, and he was clad in a classic pajama set, stripes of soft blue and white that somehow suited him. Your gaze slowly drifted back to his face, catching his gaze just as time seemed to freeze.

Neither of you moved, neither of you spoke, and you wondered whether you could fake a fight and slip into Penelope’s room when he finally cleared his throat.

“I, uh, I’ll just grab a pillow,” he mumbled awkwardly, motioning towards the floor.

You watched him fumble with the flimsy pillow, his fingers clumsily adjusting its corners, and the sight made you feel bad. The thought of him all curled up on the floor while you sprawled out on a queen-sized bed felt downright ridiculous, but at the same time, the idea of laying so close to him was making your palms sweat.

“Wait,” you blurted out, surprising even yourself. “I…”

Say it. Just say it.

“You can sleep on the bed.”

You winced as the words left your mouth, but Spencer just looked at you, frowning slightly. “I don’t want to take the bed if it means you’re on the floor.”

You shook your head quickly, almost laughing at the absurdity of the situation. “I mean… we can share it?”

His eyes went cartoonishly wide.

“You want to share the bed?”

You nodded.

“As in… both of us?”

You nodded again.

His voice turned a pitch higher. "Together?"

“Yeah, just… you know, you stay on your side and I’ll stay on mine,” you added, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The room was suddenly too warm, too stifling. Or maybe it was just the heat rising to your cheeks. You waited for his response, but when he seemed to hesitate, you started to second-guess yourself.

“You know what, just forget about it—”

“No!” He quickly said. He cleared his throat again. “We can... we can share the bed.”

You held his gaze, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Okay.”

“Okay.”

One long second passed until you bolted into the bathroom with your change of clothes.

You slammed the bathroom door behind you, your breath catching in your throat. You quickly stripped yourself naked, a little more harshly than necessary, and pulled on your shorts and t-shirt. The fabric clung to your skin as if it too sensed the shift in the air.

It’s just one night, you repeated in your head like a mantra. You were just going to sleep. Sure you had history, and sure, sharing a bed would complicate things further. But the two of you had shared spaces before—late nights at the office, long stakeouts in cramped cars. This was no different. It had to be no different.

Finally feeling somewhat calmer, you unlocked the door and stepped out. Spencer was already under the covers, his back to you, the lines of his shoulders tense under the thin blanket. The mattress dipped slightly with your weight when you finally slipped under the covers, and you lay down on the very edge, as far from him as possible without making it obvious.

One minute turned into two, and then those minutes stretched into more, and you realized both of you were still very much wide awake. The quiet was starting to drive you insane.

“Reid?”

His voice was oddly quiet. “Yes?”

But what were you even trying to say? You scrambled for something, anything, but you couldn’t find the right words. Your thoughts felt tangled, a jumble of half-formed ideas that fizzled out before they could be voiced.

Spencer noticed your hesitation and turned towards you. “What is it?”

Feeling flustered by the way he was looking at you—especially when you caught him glancing briefly at your lips—you blurted out the first thing that came to mind, which wasn’t at all what you’d planned to discuss.

“When do you think we should fake our breakup?”

The question hung awkwardly in the air. You regretted it the moment it left your lips, but there was no taking it back now. His gaze changed subtly.

“Break up?”

You nodded, feeling suddenly foolish but too committed to stop. “Yeah, I mean, with how things are going… and how we’re supposed to be pretending, right? It just… it feels like something we should plan out, doesn’t it?”

Spencer watched you for a long moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to read your thoughts. Finally, he let out a slow breath, nodding slightly.

“Sure… we should have a plan.”

“Maybe we could have a big argument,” you suggested.

He shifted to face you, the bed sheets rustling softly under him. "What kind of argument?"

"Something dramatic," you proposed, your heart beating a little faster as the distance seemed to close with his every subtle movement. "Something public where everyone can see it’s over."

“I don’t think we can handle something that intense."

“You’re right,” you agreed softly. “Something… simple then?”

Spencer unconsciously licked his lips, a brief, nervous gesture. Your eyes followed the movement, lingering just a second too long. “We could just say it isn’t working out.”

You drew your eyes back to his, and unconsciously, your foot brushed against him under the covers. He tensed for a moment. But after a pause that stretched a beat too long, he shifted slightly, not to pull away but to gently rest his leg against yours.

“You think that will be enough?” you whispered, your breath hitching slightly.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice equally low. “We can say we want different things.”

You swallowed hard. “Different?”

"Different… paths, maybe," he suggested, his leg sliding against yours again and you felt a rush of heat spread through your body. You could hardly think when you were too focused on the sensation of his bare skin against yours.

"Like... we grew apart?"

He nodded slowly. “Seems believable.”

Your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. The space between you seemed to shrink with every word.

“Believable,” you echoed.

He moved a fraction closer. “Yeah, believable.”

Your eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to stop spinning. You could see the slight hesitation in his eyes, a question perhaps about crossing a line. But then he leaned in, closing the remaining distance, his forehead touching yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as his breath brushed against your lips… and then there was no space left at all.

You felt him everywhere. Your mouth, your waist, your thigh. Spencer Reid was kissing you, and it felt utterly surreal. Although this wasn't the first time you found yourself in this position, you chose to ground yourself in this moment, letting the past fade into a distant memory.

So you focused on the way his lips barely brushed against yours, his touch so soft and tentative at first before he slightly pulled away. It was as if he was testing the waters, trying to gauge your reaction. When you moved forward, closing the gap between you, he finally kissed you again, his lips moving against yours with a growing sense of urgency.

Everything around you started to blur, the edges of reality fading as your every sense focused on his touch, his warmth, his scent. When he carefully slipped his leg between yours, you sighed into the kiss, a soft, inviting sound that encouraged him further. He took it as an invitation, his tongue gently probing at the seam of your lips until you parted them.

The moment his tongue met yours, you were overwhelmed with a rush of sensation. You held onto him, tracing your hands along his back, feeling his body tense under your touch as you pulled him closer. His hands were just as busy, one cradling the back of your head, fingers threading through your hair, while the other gripped your waist, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t get enough.

You didn't know how long you stayed like that. When you finally pulled back for air, you were both breathing hard, your foreheads still touching. Your fingers lingered on the nape of his neck, tracing delicate patterns while his thumb gently brushed your cheek. There was a moment of stillness, a shared breath, before he moved again.

Spencer leaned in for another kiss, and as you pulled him closer to you, you knew this was no longer about pretending. What you felt was as real as the lingering taste of him on your lips, a reality that was impossible for you to deny.

[rriffraft]

Can we talk about how Susie fucking BLEEDS?

So, the whole "Do monsters bleed in deltarune" discussion's been revived with the new chapters, especially 4.

I've seen a lot of people jump to the conclusion of "Susie bleeds, so all monsters must!", but I think there's more to it than that.

In chapter 4 particularly, there was a particular focus on the fact that monsters in deltarune share the aspect of their undertale counterparts in the field that they turn to dust when they die. This is discussed the in this chapter's upstairs book on monster funerals.

(Long theory ramble, more under the cut)

It also mentions that is common knowledge that all monsters know.

Couple that with these lines from earlier chapters,

It strongly implies that monsters do not bleed, and don't really have an understanding of blood. (In all fairness, Noelle's example probably happened when she and Kris were younger, but kids still generally know what blood looks like.)

But then.. there's Susie. The whole debate about whether or not deltarune monsters bleed mainly stems from comments that she makes that imply that they do, particularly this one from chapter 1:

These recent chapters have confirmed that Susie bleeds, and may or may not think that other monsters do too, up to a certain point.

When Kris and Susie discover Gerson's dust in Alvin's desk in chapter 4, it takes Susie a hot second to realize what the heck it is.

Hell, even Kris is freaked the fuck out by it and backs up in shock before Susie makes the connection.

She has to remember the fact that monsters turn to dust. This, along with some lines from her about being an outcast everywhere she moved and not being allowed to play the community piano in one of her old towns because "She looked like she shouldn't be playing" could highly suggest that Susie was raised in all-human cities until she arrived in Hometown.

She knows more about blood then about actual monster anatomy, and this would make sense if she was raised around humans.

Also, she knows how to clean up bloodstains. She helps Kris clean the one by the SOUL cage in their room.

Being the only monster in a town full of humans also would explain why she hated Kris so vehemently when she first met them. They were her opposite. The only human in a town of monsters. And instead of being shunned and excluded like she was, they're just a part of the community. Sure, they're still an outcast, but they're not being bullied for it.

We already know that Kris desperately wanted to be a monster for their whole childhood, and maybe even in present day. Even when they were treated kindly, they still wanted horns like their brother. They wanted magic. They wanted to be a goat monster like their family.

Susie probably went through the same thing, but even worse. After all, humans are far less kind and accepting than monsters are. Susie is ashamed of her tail, and doesn't like people knowing about it. In Hometown, she leans into the scary and terrifying persona we see throughout chapter 1. Maybe because she had to suppress it for so long growing up.

But then, of course, there's the scene of her actually bleeding.

There's no debate with this one. No "Sans' blood is ketchup" or "liquid determination."

She cut her fist on the glass, and is bleeding. It rubs off on Ralsei. The game makes a very prominent spectacle of showing us that yes, Susie bleeds.

There was also an unused sprite of her bleeding in the chapter 2 files, and it seems much more relevant now.

So yeah. Susie bleeds, and so far, I think she's the only one other than Kris who can. Why though?

Could she be partially human? It would explain why she was raised in human towns (if this theory is true) if one of her parents was fully, if not part human.

The prophecy calls her a monster, though. It is debatable whether or not the "girl" in the prophecy is her though, as the descriptions are intentionally vague enough to potentially also apply to Noelle.

Maybe everything I just said is irrelevant and monsters DO bleed, and only turn to dust upon death? Who knows.

Insane chapters, though.

[yourlocalsmutwriter]

hi hi mara, i just read your wip ‘sildenafil(lling you)’ 🥵🥵 are you planning on perhaps continuing and posting it? i definitely do not mean to pressure you, i’d just really wish to read this story as i like the plot very much 😬 love your works!!!

Sildenafil(lling you) - Fernando Alonso x reader

So you lied when you put "good under stressful situations" in your CV? Didn't everyone. To be clear, this wasn't a "Oh no, we messed up a customer's order, and they were angry." It was "I gave my boss the wrong pills and now he's taking his cock out in front of me," which they didn't necessarily prep you in for at school. So much for a calm start.

You don't know exactly how you found yourself in the running for being Fernando Alonso's personal assistant. Stars aligning or some shit. You gave it your all, telling the interviewer all about your love for motorsport. How people don't really expect you to be an Aston Martin fan, rooting for Alonso. You make the same jokes as the rookies do about age. They miraculously like you. You don't ask about the nature of the job, not really. You expect a lot of booking flights and restaurants, picking up expensive garments from the dry cleaning, keeping track of his public appearances.

And that was the gist of it. But you still had some more unusual requirements. Queuing for his favorite fast food place when it was cheat day. Sifting through the Instagram comments together and deciding which ones to like. Filming Tiktoks for him and explaining the trends. "No, Fernando I see how the slutty macarena is going to be great for engagement but is it the target audience we want to be having for you and Aston Martin?" Was a sentence that shouldn't exist in the English lexicon, yet you used it thrice this week. Your boss was stubborn, but this wasn't even your biggest issue.

Fernando's undoing was that he couldn't keep track of the pills he was taking. Before anyone could make an age joke, you'd tell them about his insane workouts, as if the neck pictures didn't prove it. You'd recount that time he took you for a joyride in the Valiant at night and did donuts. Truly, you're not sure how neither of you got in trouble for that. But with the amount of vitamins from sponsors and nutritional supplements from his trainer, it was hard to think of them all. So that's when you came in. You'd pick up his meds from a pharmacy and make sure he would take them. Keeping a spreadsheet of what's there and what's missing. Placing the orders in advance. Thankfully, because it was already time for Monaco, your job would be easy peasy. Considering that most of the stuff from Imola wasn't running out, you simply needed one thing. And you went to get it, using the fake name of the week. For safety reasons, you couldn't just stroll in a pharmacy and get a package for Fernando Alonso. So you'd had aliases. You'd been Henk Amarillo. Now you were Franz Herrman, the Max joke amusing you. But what you didn't notice is them giving you a package for Frank Herman. And what you were going to find out is that Frank Herman needed a little extra help in the bedroom.

Fernando didn't even look at the pills when taking them. He trusted you to look after him. That's what you were being paid to do, after all. And he could swear there was something more there. Maybe you enjoyed his company. Or maybe Monaco was too expensive for you to walk around. But you stuck around after being done for the day. You were making schedules for him, preparing verbiage, just going back and forth. Fernando was trying to focus on what you were saying about the charity match on the 21st, but everything was going to his cock. He was seeing your mouth move, but could not hear a single thing. Instead he was picturing your sweet lips wrapped around his dick, taking him. His hand was practically making an indent in his expensive leather couch when you sat next to him.

"Are you okay, Mr. Alonso? You seem a little pale. Should I get you something?" You ask, reaching out to touch his forehead. It was warm. He seemed to tense up even more when you did so, and you were mentally panicking. Would he be fine for the match? For the practices, for the race? What had happened out of nowhere? Would you have to go with him to the doctors? You absolutely hated hospitals.

"I'll go make a quick call, okay." You assure him and go to check what meds you had gotten, starting with the most recent. Googling the name of it, you're confused. Viagra? You had gotten Viagra for your boss. You continued searching and found nothing on it enhancing sports performance. You go to double-check the package, and you see that it wasn't even meant for you.

The whole thing is fucked. Coming clean is the only thing you can do at this point. Better to admit your mistake and brainstorm together, right? You weasel your way back to the living room where Fernando looks worse for wear. You can't help but notice that his sweatpants are pulled a little lower on his hips. You can almost see the band of his Boss boxers and you can guess what's going on under them. Him being hard and confused as to why must be gross. The fact that he's trying to hide it from you is expected, but still heartwarming. All his sympathy is gone when you start your sentence with "Fernando, I fucked up."

He knows he shouldn't ask you what he's about to. That it's a lawsuit waiting to happen at worst, huge HR violation at best. Yet he can't help himself. It hurts, it's throbbing and painful and not at all good. He feels like an animal, like he has one instinct and it's to fuck. Yet, he sees how you look at him. How you haven't taken your eyes off his crotch, curious about the bulge there. So he goes for it.

"Wanna fix your mistake for me, then? Show me what a good assistant you are?" He says as he toys with the string of the sweatpants. He expects a polite no or a sorry. Not a please.

Not booking Fernando for an underwear commercial was a crime you were going to right, you think as his sweatpants hit the floor. It's the Viagra, sure but there is something more. He's not just hard, he's big and hard, and ready for you. You don't know what you wanna do first. Luckily, he seems to have it figured it out.

"Get on your knees." He tells you with the same tone he tells you to book an appointment or reach out to a fan. But there's also a tinge of need in there. Just a tiny bit of desperation. And you can't blame him, his cock needs it, needs you. You kneel infront of him, and lick a stripe up his dick.

You want to be soft, to savour this once in a lifetime opportunity. But Fernando was having none of that. He thrusts his hips forward. Makes you take him deeper. Tells you to relax, cariño and take it. He doesn't mean to pull your hair. Making your nose meet his pubes really isn't his style. But he's not Fernando the F1 driver right now. He's Nano the porn star. And he wants to see his heavy tip slap against the tip of your tongue, the most perfect bead of precum rolling off. He wants to see you look up to him, as if he's a God. You're an eager little thing, aiming to excell even in this. You wrapping your hands around his thighs and using them as leverage is his undoing. He thrusts one more time and there's the telltale salty taste of cum. You swallow and dash off for a wipe. You can't help but rummage in the drawers you don't stock and eureka. You grab the whole box of condoms, a bit of wishful thinking.

Your intuition is correct when you find him, fist around his cock, complaining that "it won't go down". You wordlessly drop your panties and pants, the pair hitting the floor of the expensive Monaco hotel. He can see the slick against your thighs. There's two fingers right against you as he toys with the condom, all teeth and dexterity. He breathes in and out, humping you slowly as he thrusts his digits in and out. Fernando's drunk on your moans, on your pleas for more. One minute man? Please. It takes him mere seconds to finish inside of you. It would be embarrassing if he'd stopped. But he just kept going, his cock not even becoming soft. It was harder and now it was just hard. Fernando drills into you, precise and calculated. His hips meet your ass, and one hand is around your waist, bringing you closer, making you two fit together perfectly. He moves his fingers lower, brushing them against your clit and that's what brings you over the edge. Fernando pulls out barely, not missing how you squeeze for him, but he slides his cock out of the condom and cums all over your back. At his heart, he's a sappy man. He brings you a towel and cleans you both up. Asks if you'd like some clothes or some space. When you say no to both, he lays next to you, and faces you. It's sweet almost, how you're like koalas, tangled up and kissing. But between you two there's his cock, thick and heavy again, straight against your pussy. "Let's make sure I don't have to call your doctor about an election lasting more than 4 hours, shall we. You know I have phone anxiety." You say as playfully inches up your thigh to his hip. The box of condoms is tossed to the side somewhere, next to the Viagra. Since you were responsible for the little blue pills, he'd be responsible for your birth control tomorrow.

P. S. - ugh, anon, thank you so much for this ask, the support, and the trust. Will continue to bring the Alonso fics. Might have a little surprise for you soon.

[nikethestatue]

Unpopular opinion that many of you won't agree with and I am okay with that.

I know that people are kind of upset that SJM didn't post anything today on ACOTAR's 10th anniversary.

And while I understand the disappointment, I feel like we are the ones to blame for it, and for her complete disengagement from the fandom.

Her fanbase hates every character she created, constantly craps on the IC, which are obviously her favorites, hates Rhys, Feyre, Cassian, Elain, Mor, etc. Only likes Azriel in conjunction with Gwyn, which isn't her intention. Her fandom is obsessed with Tamlin and Lucien, characters she clearly dislikes or has no interest in. Her fanbase writes huge metas about how every single thing she ever wrote sucks. How she is sexist, racist, homophobic, how she is a tradwife, how awful her characters are, how everyone is toxic and abusive. How she promotes SA. How she promotes horrible relationships. Some fuckers went after her Holocaust-survivor grandma! People threatened SJM. Threatened her kids. Vowed to destroy her and her career.

She was a teen when she set out to write stories. She was happy writing them. But the fandom destroyed any goodwill that she had for it and I don't blame her for wanting to pull back as far from it as possible.

Personally, I've experienced a lot of hate in this fandom, and even though I have thick skin, sometimes it gets very difficult to deal with it day in and day out. Even when I actively avoid things that have been posted about me--and I know SJM does the same and avoids social media--it's often impossible to shield yourself completely.

It hurts especially hard when it pertains to something you spend so much time doing. Writing is a tedious, boring and solitary activity. But you live with the characters. You have extremely close relationships with them. They are almost like children to you. You conceived them, carried them, bore them, nurtured them. And when someone starts accusing you of awful things, and bashing these characters, there is no way not to take it seriously.

No amount of 'training' or 'preparedness' actually prepares you for how hurtful it could be. How vicious people get, because social media offers them anonymity and they feel that they can just word-vomit freely and without recourse.

SJM is a writer. She wanted to write stories that lived in her head. Her life and her writing don't revolve around some bullshit issues that people want to actively get upset about, because it will get them views on TikTok and because it's trendy to do so and to shit on everything and everyone.

No, she isn't active and doesn't engage not because she has kids, or is busy, or whatever. That's just cop out excuses. No. She just doesn't want to. And I GET HER. That's why I am not mad.

She feels like she fulfilled the contract with us, as in --she writes the books and we read them. And she doesn't owe us anything beyond that. She treats us like crap because we treat her like crap.

As the old saying goes: don't shit where you eat.

If you wanted engagement, if you wanted your questions answered, if you wanted Lives, then people shouldn't have acted like complete twats for the past 10 years towards her.

Unfortunately, a few bad apples spoiled the whole damn bunch and now we are all paying the price.

I wish she was more active and I wish she engaged with the fandom. But I get her. I wouldn't either.

That's just my 2 cents. I know most will disagree with my stance, but I applaud her for aloofness. Because maybe people will realize that you can't just treat authors and creators in general like crap, and then complain and demand interactions.

[bi-bard]

The Simplest and Most Important Morning - Mike Schmidt Imagine [Five Nights at Freddy's (Movie)]

Title: The Simplest and Most Important Morning

Pairing: Mike Schmidt X Reader

Word Count: 1,219 words

Warning(s): mention of events of the first film (no real details), pure fluff really

Summary: A peak into the lives with Mike, (Y/n), and Abby.

Author's Note: Hello! I am celebrating ten years of writing fanfiction today (April 7th)! I'm hosting a Q&A to celebrate and would love for you to join in by sending a question into my inbox!

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

I had grown to love waking up in Mike's place.

Maybe it was just because it was so familiar. There was this knowledge that I was getting up to the same walls, the same bedsheet, the same person. Probably mostly because it was the same person.

I grinned a bit as I saw Mike start waking up.

"Morning," I muttered, running my fingers through his hair.

"Morning," he replied. "Watching me sleep?"

"Not by choice."

Not a lie.

Mike had a habit of almost sleeping on top of me and trapping me next to him.

"Yeah, yeah," he pushed himself up so his face was hovering over mine. "I don't work today."

"Neither do I," I said. "A miracle."

"I was about to say the same thing," he leaned down and kissed me gently. I was just letting myself relax into the moment, when there was suddenly a new voice in the room.

"Ew."

Mike jumped at the sound of his sister's voice in the doorway.

"Are you two getting up soon?"

"Abby!" he groaned. I tried to cover up my laughter by putting my hands over my face.

"I'm hungry," she said.

"That's right, it's Saturday," I shot up as I realized, spooking Mike a bit. "I promised you pancakes!"

Abby nodded.

"We'll be out in a minute, okay? Gotta let Mike wake up a bit."

She closed the door on her way out.

"Pancakes," Mike repeated. "Why would you promise her pancakes?"

"Because she deserves pancakes," I shrugged. "She's been doing well in school and eating a lot better after... everything. I wanna treat her."

He nodded slowly.

I adored Abby. She was kind and creative. Quiet, yes, but truly a glowing example of how people should act. I had become quite protective of her, even before the incident with Mike's last job. The incident that I refused to discuss in great detail most of the time.

I'd like to think that she had grown to like me. The first time that I had been over to meet her, she glared at me from the other side of the table the whole night. I'd say that her waking me up to demand pancakes was better than that.

Mike leaned over and kissed my cheek. "Shouldn't keep her waiting for too long. I don't know if I have everything for pancakes."

"I bought some last night," I waved it off as he got out of bed. "I... I actually wanted to talk to you about something."

He immediately looked worried.

"It's not bad," I explained. "At least, it shouldn't be. Not if this goes to plan."

"Okay..."

"Hear me out," I shifted to sit up a little straighter. "I've spent a lot of time here, right? Even though my place is significantly closer to where I work."

"Right."

"Well, I was very casually looking around the other day and realized that not only is my work closer to my place but so is Abby's school and where you're working right now," I continued.

"Really?"

I nodded. "I also have a bigger bed."

"Holding a grudge because you fell out of mine?"

"Against the mattress, yes," I confirmed. "I have extra room."

"That's your office."

"I have space to move my desk and books and stuff into another room. And taking care of you is more important than having a separate office."

"You don't need to take care of me-"

"Too bad, I want to," I shrugged as I cut him off.

He leaned down so his face was level with mine. "(Y/n), are you asking me to move in with you?"

"You and Abby, yes," I nodded. "It's in great shape and would be really good for us. A fresh start for us, hopefully. You don't have to say yes now or at all, even, but I think we're ready for it."

"I think that's a great idea," he replied. I grinned.

"I was going to ask Abby on her own," I explained. "I don't want to force it on her."

"Good idea."

There were a few moments of silence before I reached out and hugged him quickly, almost pulling him down. He hugged me and chuckled, moving so we were both standing up.

"Okay, we should get out there before Abby barges through the door again."

"Agreed."

Abby was already sitting at the table when we made it to the dining room. I busied myself making pancakes.

It was funny. I had spent so much time thinking about this. Thinking about how to ask and all of the ways that it could've gone wrong. I had planned every moment out perfectly... and now my mind was blank. I had no idea what to say at all.

"Abby," I looked over when Mike spoke up. He sat in the chair next to Abby. I could see his face. "(Y/n) and I have been talking about something, and we want your opinion on it."

"What is it?"

"Do you remember when you visited (Y/n)'s a while ago?"

"When (Y/n) babysat me."

"Yeah," Mike nodded. "You liked it there, right?"

"It was nice."

I grinned to myself as I placed a pancake down on the plate.

"Why?"

"Well... how would you feel about living there," he asked. "The two of us with (Y/n)."

There was a long pause. Too long. One that made my heart drop through my stomach and my brain go a little too fast. If she said no, I didn't know what I was going to do. Would I try to get her to trust me? Would I have to hold my hands up and step back? It was awful.

Abby finally spoke up after what felt like forever, "Where would I sleep?"

"Mike, can you come watch these?" I motioned to the pan as I walked over to the table. He nodded. I took his seat. "I have a room for you. You can decorate it however you want. We can paint and put up all your drawings. It'll be completely yours."

There was another pause. "Okay."

"You sure?" I said. "You don't have to say yes."

She nodded. "I'm sure."

I let out a sigh of relief, smiling at her. "Good, good."

"Alright, that's enough talk about moving for now," Mike said as he walked over with a stack of pancakes. "It is time for breakfast."

I let out a pretend groan "Fine!"

I pushed myself up and grabbed the toppings that I had picked up at the store... and a few other plates so we didn't have to all eat off the same one. I jumped a bit when Mike was suddenly standing next to me again.

"That went well," he whispered, taking a few things from me.

"I'd like to think so," I agreed. "I'm really looking forward to this."

"Me too," he replied. "I love you."

"Love you too."

As he walked back to the table, I found myself needing to take a moment to collect myself. It felt like in an instant, things were settling down. Dust was settling. There was a clear image of what was going to happen and what I could expect.

It was nice. Peaceful.

And that was what I had wanted for so long.

I could only hope that it wasn't too good to be true.

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

Tag Lists:

Overall - @geeksareunique

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

Navigation Guide

Original Characters Masterlist

Album Writing Challenges

[mylittleredgirl]

unpopular opinion but i really enjoy "field of fire," the ezri dax "to catch a serial killer" episode. for all the scenery chewing and deep space nine's continued vulcan smear campaign, i'm not going to pretend it's objectively the best of the ezri a-plot episodes, but it's my favorite for what it reveals about her.

jadzia was emotional, headstrong, and sometimes impulsive (as was curzon), but ezri is reckless.

of course she is! she's young! she's unqualified for everything that has happened to her, and honestly, so are all her peers. she ran away from a fucked-up home to starfleet at a time when, as we saw with nog, they're field-promoting cadets at top speed to fill the ranks as starfleet suffers massive war casualties. she's more or less the same generation as the red squad cadets on the valiant who decided to fight the dominion war by themselves behind enemy lines.

and she wouldn't be ezri dax otherwise. the reveal in "equilibrium" is a secret known only the symbiosis commission and the starfleet offiers who were physically in the room. to the medical staff on the destiny and ezri tigan herself, the odds of rejection from an improper trill joining are overwhelmingly likely and fatal. but ezri still volunteers to join with dax! she's probably going to die in this uniform anyway, right?

jadzia was a focused, rule-following, straight-a student before she met the party worm, and it took dax a season or two to loosen her up, but ezri was probably already unhinged.

so of course she's the one who decides to take her inner murderer off the leash at the slightest provocation. sisko asks her to help odo out, and ezri somehow interprets this as feeling like she's solely responsible for finding the killer when she only took one class at the academy in forensic psychology and didn't even like it. odo and o'brien are continuing their own investigation off-screen the whole time! meanwhile, she probably had to look up the trill emergence ritual in a book. she has not read the fine print on ANY of this.

and she sticks with this crazy plan, even when it becomes clear that she's right on the edge of becoming a danger to society. but ezri's whole starfleet career, maybe her whole young life of ignoring and plotting her escape from her emotionally abusive family, certainly her whole joined experience, has been lived right on the edge.

all the scenes she has with joran in and around quark's bar to me are her technique for staying grounded in reality. they often happen after joran pushes her too far, so she uses being public as a distraction from that one-on-one intensity—even though it means she looks insane and everyone's staring at her. even joran is like ".... shouldn't you have told sisko about me?" she is full in dax stubbornness on this deeply dubious plan.

and it works!! and in the final account, i think she liked it a little: the power of playing a killer, the power of being stronger than joran, and the soft ending she has with him during reintegration.

her symbiont, her whole life on the station, her friends, her romantic interests, they were all jadzia's first, but jadzia was afraid of joran and would never have played this game. in this one way, ezri has a closer relationship to her unearned symbiont than jadzia did.

ezri's beta canon trajectory of switching to a command track is okay, but it makes me sad to think she'd ditch her chosen career entirely. i could see her getting into criminal psychology. her brother's a murderer (she hasn't unpacked that AT ALL), one of her past hosts was a murderer... with that backstory, she'd do numbers in a federation law & order procedural series. i'd watch it.

but honestly, in the federation spirit of rehabilitation, she might be uniquely qualified to treat violent criminals as well, rather than hunting them down. she could reach in and heal that part of herself and then use that experience to reach others.

[moonstruckme]

I feel like Poly!marauders are sooo caring so maybe a dynamic where the reader is like an overly-insependent person and is not used to this kind of care and affection. Maybe it is reader’s first relationship so they have a hard time with the concept of leaning to others for support. Thank you in advance love!

Lmao this came wayyy too easily because I've definitely done all of these things! Thanks for requesting lovely <3

modern au

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

"Where you headed off to, gorgeous?" Sirius looks up from his laptop as you step into your shoes.

"Grocery store," you say. "I'm thinking of making souffle tonight, would you want some?"

"Yeah, that sounds great." He grins at you in that way of his, and you know he knows your knees just went wobbly. "Want a lift?"

"Thanks, but the bus goes almost directly there."

Remus looks up from his book with eyebrows already furrowed in disapproval. "It's nearly dark out, love. You shouldn't be walking around by yourself this late."

You roll your eyes. Men. "I can handle myself, been doing it for years," you say as reassuringly as you can, slipping out the door before either of them can argue with you further. "I'll be back soon!"

You keep a hand close to the rape alarm attached to your bag as you maneuver your way through the shadowy streets. You've been tired since you woke up that morning, so a ride would have been nice, sure, but you don't want to become one of those girlfriends who relies on her boyfriends for everything. That was your biggest concern with getting into a relationship: losing the sense of self-reliance you've cultivated over your life. You don't need help from anyone, even if the big, strong men think you do. You huff a laugh to yourself.

The grocery shopping goes quick, soon you're back at your own front door. Sirius and Remus are almost exactly as you left them, both curled up on the couch, but now James is home from the gym. You know this, because he apprehends you as soon as you walk through the door, hair wet from the shower and dripping on your paper grocery bags as he attempts to take them from you.

"I've got them," you laugh, dodging him.

James gives chase. "You're carrying three! Let me take a couple."

"I can handle it." You kick at his ankle playfully, sniffling.

He pauses, and you take the opportunity to whisk the bags into the kitchen, setting them on the counter victoriously. "You feeling alright, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah." You wave him off. "It's just chilly outside. Go relax, I'm about to start dinner."

James pouts but goes, flopping dramatically over the side of the couch. His head lands in Sirius' lap, and the other boy starts combing his fingers through the tangles of James' wet hair absentmindedly. Satisfied, you start setting out the ingredients you'll need, but a moment later Remus materializes beside you.

"You've been running around all day," he says. "Let me make dinner. You go relax."

"I don't mind," you say, slightly affronted. "I can handle dinner."

"Baby," Sirius pipes up, turning to look at you over the couch, "just let him do it. Take a—" he stops as you sneeze. "Are you sick?"

"No," you sniffle. "I don't think so."

Before you can move away, Remus has a hand on your forehead. "You're warm!" he says, in the same tone as one might say You're killing people and burying them in our backyard! A bit dramatic, in your opinion.

"Oh," you say, covering your face with your elbow as you sneeze again.

"Aw, angel," James says, your sole ally as Remus and Sirius look at you accusingly, as though they suspect you've been keeping this from them on purpose. Which....to be fair, isn't outside the realm of possibility. "Come sit with us, let us take care of you."

"Go," Remus says, moving his hand to the back of your neck and pursing his lips at whatever he feels there. "I'll make dinner, and some tea for you, yeah?"

You shake your head. "That's alright, I can—"

"Don't say you can handle it."

You huff, but it's clear you're not going to win this one. You go to the couch, where James accepts you with eager arms.

"Our poor girl," he coos, kissing every inch of your cheek sloppily. "Fuck, you are warm. You just need to take some time to rest, yeah?"

You sniffle grouchily, but Sirius pokes at your side, eliciting an unwilling snicker. "You could stand to let us help you out every now and then," he says, already seeming less upset with you. You suspect you have your illness to thank for that.

"I can take care of myself," you argue, but the fight is going out of you as you finally give into the cold you maybe sort of knew was coming on all day.

"We know you can, dove," Remus chimes in from the kitchen. "And that's what you've always done, but letting us take care of you sometimes isn't going to suddenly make you helpless, either." He shoots you a knowing look, too perceptive for his own good. And yours, apparently.

You sneeze again, jerking away from James so you don't spray on him. You feel disgusting, and pathetically vulnerable. Is this what they want you to succumb to? "I don't want to get too used to this," you say, voice small as you sniffle, wiping your nose on your sleeve, "and forget how to manage without your help."

Each of your boyfriends, even Remus, softens like butter in the sun.

"Baby." Sirius wraps an arm around you, looking at you with eyes so soft you feel like you could cry. "You won't forget. You're tough, and that's not gonna change just because you let us do some things for you, yeah?"

You look at your lap, contemplating. He's not not making sense. The idea of accepting help is so unfamiliar to you, it feels like a betrayal of your core values. But you love Sirius, and Remus, and James, and if what they want is to help you, maybe you can try to let them. Some of the time, at least.

Sirius curls a finger under your jaw, his thumb resting on your chin as he tilts your face up to his. He must see the concession in your eyes, because he smiles softly. It's almost an apology, and you know that he's aware of how difficult this is for you to give up.

"You're gonna have to get used to this, sweet thing," he says lightly, pressing a kiss to your overwarm forehead. "Because we're not letting you go."

[charms-cat]

SPOILERS FOR THE ENTIRE SEASON

Casting

Making famous rapper Choi Seunghyun/TOP play a failed rapper is some perfectly ironic casting 😂

(I know it wasn't intentional. I just thought it was funny)

Fuck Myunggi

Junhee! Kick him to the curb and keep him there! That guy is definitely gonna be a deadbeat dad.

(And, not to get too moral policing here, but it was cruel of her to keep the baby when she knew she was in heavy debt. No child should be born in poverty)

EDIT: somebody misunderstood what I meant by the above paragraph. They thought it was "classist. Every child deserves to live. If the mother decides to have a child, then it's her choice. It's wrong to tell a mother that she should've gotten rid of her baby just bcs she can't provide a perfect life for her child" (not verbatim, but this was the gist). They removed their replies, so let me clarify for anyone else who's confused.

Children are expensive. They will need things or want other things. They might lose a school book or rip their coat or catch an illness or want a toy. All things that need to be fixed, and all of them cost money. And I just don't think it's something children need to be worried about. You might give them an allowance to teach them financial responsibility, but no child should be worried about the income of a household. They shouldn't fear losing or ruining anything bcs they already know that replacing it will be a financial strain on their family. They shouldn't fear the resulting medical care of (being born with/experiencing) poor health bcs they know it'll be (heavier) debt for their family. Children should only worry about childish things, not the potential collapse of their family.

It is not classist to not want a child to be born in poverty. You don't need to provide a "perfect" life for your child. But you wanting a child is not a reason for them to suffer the effects of the life you're currently living.

TLDR; if you can't be comfortable with your child being a little clumsy or careless or sick bcs any of those might be a financial strain, then you shouldn't have children.

I get that Junho didn't want to admit that his brother was the sociopathic Front Man, but he could've just said, "I saw his face but didn't recognise him." People's lives are at stake here, you pig. Smh cops are just useless.

In Junhee's case, we can only hope that she has other friends who'll help her with the baby. Her debt is most likely in the millions, and she already lost both her parents. I'm sure you can ask any parent and they'll tell you that a newborn needs lots of attention. So either she'll need to outsource that vital childcare while she works (bcs I doubt a government check would be enough for both of them) or she needs work that allows her to bring her baby.

STOP KEEPING VITAL INFO TO YOURSELVES FFS

And Jungbae, oh my God. Five seconds to just say "(Youngil) killed someone" and Gihun might've known to be on alert around him. It doesn't take a detective to work out that, "Hey, this guy is going kinda crazy. He might kill us if he needs to. Maybe I should tell someone." Buddy, even if you think he only turned to murder out of a need for survival, he still can't be trusted.

TRAITOR

Y'all I fucking knew that ship captain Park was Suspicious, with a capital S!

+ they made it a point that Wooseok said "which of you got drunk and spilled the intel?" Only to later show him drinking and spilling intel

The very moment he was questioning Wooseok in that restaurant and saying shit like, "I didn't believe him at first," and, most importantly, "so everything (Junho) told me was true?" He was on my impostor radar. Idk how to explain it too well. Like, yeah, I believe Junho would've told him some stuff but telling him "everything"? or enough for him to make a sudden turn from "this is baloney" to "I 100% believe you and in no way do I think all these men are just part of the same cuckoo conspiracy group."

Also, now that it's confirmed that he's a measly fucking rat, I just wanna circle back to the fisherman who said that he was given "leftover bait" by some guy. Who would just have that shit on hand? Fisherman captain Park. Who was "interested" in the drones and how good surveillance is these days? Captain fucking Park. Bastard.

Gyeongseok and Noeul

Do we think Gyeongseok (the dad) is still alive? I think so since they focused on his character but haven't really expanded on his story line + I didn't see a corpse and he wasn't shot in the head so it's pretty suspect + Noeul avoided shooting him in the first game too (for his hair flying. yall, was he supposed to control the wind??) and I'm pretty sure she's the soldier (that shot him) since she was also the only one connected to him outside the game

Add. Note: I really hoped that Noeul had a chance to shoot those rapist bastards during the shootout. Y'know, disguise it as a "why would the players do this? 😔" moment

Death flags 🏴

Hyunju, those fake friends didn't deserve you 😭. I love her. She's been a boss all season.

Gihun saying he'll outlive Jungbae was probably the biggest death flag I've seen so far. But I thought for sure that old guy (10B won in debt) and that shaman were gonna die. I mean,,, telling other people they're gonna die (and you're gonna live) is an ironic death flag.

EDIT: just gonna add that Jungbae also said, "we're both gonna make it out of here" to Gihun + he was the only person to know the "true nature" of the antagonist so that's three different death flags for him 😭

Side note: I found out that the actor for said old guy (Song Youngchang) is a convicted sex offender/rapist. Maybe that's why I wanna see him die so badly.

Hyunju! And Daeho

And I feel sorry for Daeho. I thought he was lil too peppy for a soldier and I was right(?) The guy's never seen live combat.

I just know that your wife, who would've died to bring a life into this world, would be fucking disappointed

HWANG INHO YOU BASTARD

God. The worst part of the whole plan was the fact that they actually got so fucking close, if only they hadn't let that bitch join their ranks

[fulcrum-021]

The psychology of Agent Kallus

Been thinking a lot about the fact that Kallus in a lot of ways, even post redemption, is not a good person. There often seems to be applied this black and white view on the Rebels characters, despite the show itself speaking against this, but I do think it's especially interesting in terms of Kallus. A lot of headcanons seem to diminish his involvement or responsibility in the genocide of Lasan. Additionally a lot of headcanons do the same in removing his agency in his own enlistment into the Empire. While I'm a firm believer that headcanons shouldn't be judged on realism or adherence to canon, I still want to use these headcanons as examples to analyze the further themes of Kallus' character and why they - in canon - matter.

So, a disclaimer; this is not an attack on the headcanons I mention, nor the people who created/enjoy them.

In The Honorable Ones, Kallus has a line that I think is really interesting, because Kallus affirms the role he played in the genocide of Lasan, but the way he phrases it sounds as if he's diminishing his culpability.

"On Lasan... It... It wasn't supposed to be a massacre. But I realized the Empire wanted to make an example. I know before, I took credit for it."

To me, at least, this reads as Kallus pushing the blame higher up. He might've given the orders, but he only did so because he knew the Empire expected it. This seems like cognitive dissonance, which can happen when there's a conflict between a person's actions and moral beliefs (very simplified).

Everything Kallus says during the episode seems to back this up. This quote itself is a great example of displacement of personal responsibility, which is a form of external self-justification. Basically shifting the blame to avoid the mental turmoil of facing the reality of one's involvement/responsibility. This is a common coping mechanism seen by soldiers. "I was just following orders" is a prime example of this.

Now, when Zeb questions Kallus on Geonosis, Kallus' response is once again SO telling. This guy is a psychology text book and doesn't even know it!

"The only thing I know about Geonosis is that the population is gone. I never asked questions."

This is a mix of selective perception and confirmation bias. Kallus is specifically choosing to avoid and ignore the things that point towards the Empire doing harm, as this would directly conflict with his internal view of the Empire and its role in the Galaxy. It's important to note, that him not asking questions implies that he knows what the answer would be. Otherwise, why would he be afraid to ask? Zeb is a smart cookie, 'cause he very much picks up on it and confronts Kallus, resulting in Kallus deflecting by changing the subject.

Z: "Well, maybe you should start. Or are you afraid of the answers you'll get? Afraid you'll learn the Geonosians were wiped out by your precious Empire?"

K: "And why would we do that? What could possibly be the point?"

Z: "Ah, good questions. Chase the answers, and maybe you'll learn the truth."

K: "You know, you'll never get out of here without my help."

This, imo, further proves that Kallus is actively, by choice, avoiding to think about the implications of the Empire's actions and his own involvement in this. If Kallus has to accept that the Empire's actions happened and were wrong, then he also has to accept that for his own actions. Zeb is directly challenging the justifications he has built up in his mind and Kallus has run out of excuses.

While I could go into the psychology of dehumanizing your enemy and thus justifying your actions by so, I'd like to discuss the implications of these themes in a character sense.

To me, it's incredibly important to understand that a character like Kallus is not a result of bad things happening to them. While these might be motivational factors and might shape their world view, Kallus certainly didn't end up carrying out a genocide on accident. A big part of his redemption is him coming to terms with this fact. He had a choice and he made the wrong one, time and time again. While Kallus started out with good intentions, he slowly became desensitized to fascist ideals and brutality. When things started going against his own beliefs, he instead chose to justify it as a means to an end - for the greater good. A greater good he could no longer recognize, but instead of challenging this he chose to ignore it.

I think it's incredibly interesting and imo it makes his redemption arc all the more realistic. It's not that he changed his mind about his actions, he just finally took accountability and action. He started asking questions

(I know this might be a bit too soap box-y, but it feels incredibly important to understand this now especially. It's so easy to fall for propaganda and to slip into fascism. It's important to be aware of the mindset that can lead to this and how to challenge it.)

[liketwoswansinbalance]

What would you do if you knew you couldn't fall??

Did you mean "fail?" Unless you meant literally falling, I will answer as if you wrote "fail." You can correct me if that is the wrong interpretation, and I could answer the question again.

Assign first-class experts to solve the world's problems... so I wouldn't have to do it all—assuming the technicality is that I start the projects, then they probably would not fail. Would that loophole work? (Realistically, if it didn't work, I don't think I'd actually be altruistic enough to do all that...) Would I have to see the projects through to completion? That's quite a lot of work. But doing this would likely mean I will probably have a clean conscience for the rest of my life, ideally, because, I know I should if I had the power to do so.

In relation to #1, even if this is non-necessary, also assign people to figure out if there's life on other planets. I just want to know. Don't need to contact whatever is out there—I don't want anything to go wrong. I'd just want to possibly spy on them for a little while. The problem is: spying is unethical, so I'd have to convince myself that I'm either doing it for cautionary reasons or as a longitudinal, naturalistic "study." This could be a pandora's jar, so I might take it off the list.

Cure stupidity and herd mentality. (Curing all physical ailments is built into no. 1 already.) Or better yet, get someone else to do it. (At the same time, we could argue that these qualities are part of being human or flawed, and that we shouldn't tamper with our human-ness. In which case, just no. Also, we would lose part of our former connection to literature, pre-cure. For instance, we would no longer comprehend the meaning of the trope: "love causes poor judgment." So, would it be worth it? Even if the world were terraformed and otherwise reshaped in more metaphorical ways to be "perfect," I think we would still manage to invent new problems because it's what we've always done as a species. Thus, there needs to be a reasonable stopping point. And, I'm not sure what that point is, meaning several other items on this list might have to be struck out.)

Have the world's politicians be... better somehow? Ensure they are sane and moral, that they trust science, are scientifically-literate... I feel, perhaps, like we might get better results if we chose science-fiction writers, particularly those who've managed to predict our present and know how to do social commentary. They seem to be aware of and actually care about the state of humanity. (I'm not really well-informed enough to make any decisions, but I know well enough that the world needs people of varied knowledge and skillsets to continue on. So, I'm not completely, intentionally trying to valorize only what I'm interested in. I'm just biased like any other human being is.)

Delegate everything I don't like doing to competent people (like cooking), and reap the benefits of the exact outcomes I'd want every time. If they were successful, I'd never have a problem with dust and no one would ever move my stacks of books and paper, which often collect dust.

Turn myself immortal and gain eternal youth. (This should probably be item no. 1 on the list, actually, to account for how long the first few tasks could potentially take.) Then use those means on others who would want it done. If it's someone I don't like, I could still let them become immortal, and would just tell them after this favor not to cross paths with me again. I would also try to convince anyone I want to keep around to stay.

No. 6 would attract too much publicity. I'd need a way to continue being relatively anonymous, except for what I would selectively want to be recognized for. (If I couldn't fail at it, I'd love to become the next "Shakespeare" or some kind of literary giant... and maybe then have the world forget about me... and be rediscovered and reinterpreted by future generations who use my original and/or revolutionary works as required reading in their syllabi. That'd be striking and cool. I'm not sure how I would stop suffering from belatedness though.)

Find a way to never sleep, never eat, never exercise, and not experience cognitive decline. I would only do the ones I like doing.

Find a way to resurrect people from the dead. (I already know this has too much margin for catastrophe, so there would have to be restrictions on what can and cannot be done. At the same time, I am also aware this would violate nature, so it might have to be removed from the list. Who am I to decree the rules?)

I haven't addressed religion yet. I'd have to find some way to alleviate my guilt, but that's more of a temporary fix and not a real solution. I'd have to find some way to remain a mostly good or at least harmless person, assuming I'm mostly one now. If there's no reason for anyone, any force, or anything to object to my existence, I would hope I would be allowed to continue on with my plans.

If there were some way to affirm what I think my personal beliefs are, that would be great. At the same time, that defeats the point of faith, and so, I'm not sure what to do about this dilemma.

Learn everything I want to learn now that I have infinite time to learn it (and infinite time to procrastinate).

Consume all the media I want to consume and also never miss new installments or works of art because I wouldn't be outlived by creators.

Become some kind of successful writer. I mentioned this before, but to specify: maybe a novelist or maybe an academic critic—why not both?! Sky's the limit!

Eventually, if I could never fail, I might wonder about whether anything could ever be a challenge or worth doing anymore. (Doubt that will happen since I have a fear of failure anyway—and being cured of it would be a wonderful reality to live in!)

And so, I could want to die eventually. (Again, highly doubt that will happen.)

In case: It's not my top priority, but: study philosophy, so I don't become corrupt, apathetic, or suicidal since I know things can happen to the human psyche after too long.

If no. 1 didn't happen, and humans were faced with climate change as well as other problems, then I would want to die before the planet were barren and ruined, so I wouldn't have to live under dystopian conditions.

Some of the above might not happen because I may procrastinate too much. That would suggest that the revised item no. 1 should be: conquer procrastination once and for all, and only then proceed in a rough order.

[notlhecxzsa]

Red Days, Purple Loves - A.H

Summary: You were having a particularly low day... accompanied with your red day. How will your centuries old wife handle her not-so-mortal-anymore younger girl? What will even happen when she's scared of the same girl who's several inches smaller than her?

Author's Note: Ahhhhh, my first ever Agatha fic! My red days are coming up, i was ugly crying earlier when my grandma scolded me ignoring them and again for no reason! Thankfully, she still bought me my fav drinks and grapes!

Warnings: periods, sad y/n, fightings, soft agatha? and did i already say softie agatha? should there also be a warning for a wifey material agatha? broken glass, yelling, blood

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

You can't remember clearly when the fight started—what it caused. As you sat on the couch, a heating pad on your lower tummy and the bear plushie that Agatha had won for you at the amusement park that you practically cried your way for her to go with you.

You clutch onto the cozy blanket bundled up on your lap as you anticipated when your wife will come back home. Staring at the television with the same glossy eyes you held earlier when she left you standing in the kitchen, choosing to leave than to yell back at you.

As you watch the movie that both of you are fond of—The Notebook, the same one that Agatha would make up stories and say if she's in Noah's position, she would also be doing all of that for you. It made you miss her, glossy eyes started becoming a river and a puddle of tears as guilt started creeping up on you. You just wanted to spend time with her!

As far as you remember, she was down in the basement for hours, you just wanted to spend time with her. You didn't do anything wrong, that's for sure—the 'water' you 'accidentally' pushed was not your fault, you tripped on her books that were stacked up. She shouldn't have those laying around everywhere.

As you sniffled with your puffy nose, you held on tightly on the plushie in your arms and wiped your tears with the other using Agatha's sweatshirt that you wore, which is too big on you. A small frown formed in your forehead as you remembered how she scolded you, almost yelling.

As you started wondering where she has been in the past 1 and a half hours the sound of a car pulling up on the front made its way to your ears, making you turn hastily, lips parted as you sighed in relief. Your eyes were stuck there for a moment, trying to catch a glimpse of your wife but failed when you heard the opening of the front door.

You turned back to watch the movie that is playing on the television, but your attention was elsewhere. The hold you have on the blanket and the plushie tightened as you waited for the pair of arms you woke up in this morning. You waited and waited and waited and wait-... The sound of her boots passed behind you until it disappeared inside the bathroom you had near the kitchen.

Suddenly, what she said earlier came rushing back in.

"God, can you just give me some space for a couple of minutes, Y/n? I'm almost done here! I told you I'll get back to you immediately, baby."

Yet, she left. Maybe, she was already getting tired of your attitude. Your sillyness. Your immaturity...

With lips trembling, you stood up, not caring about the remote, blanket, heating pad and the plushie getting in contact with the floor. Not even bothering to turn the TV off and picking up everything, you ran off up in the stairs, Senior Scratchy gazing at your form.

Agatha's ears alerted her at the sound of things clattering around the floor, it was a faint sound yet it still caught her auditory sense. Shaking her head as she washed her hands, she caught sight of something in the bin. Pads.

Her lips became a thin line as the realization hit her. Her eyes narrowing as she remembered the way you acted earlier.

"Aggie?..." There was a certain edge lacing through your voice, making her look up immediately, her hands dropping to the side and her eyes averting from the book to yours.

"Yes, my love?" With eyebrows raising, she looked at you with gentle eyes, seeing you clad in her sweatshirt that are almost covering you, stopping by your mid thighs, making your shorts invisible to the naked eye.

Your hair was in a messy updo, a visible frown on your face yet her heart jumped at the sight of you. Never did once falter, even after being with you for 10 years already.

You were a mortal, she met you since westview, having caught her eyes as soon as she saw you and since then, she never let you go. It was... hard at first, to say the least.

You were younger—so much younger, while she is older she seemed like she doesn't aged, but you do, so when she figured out how to make you don't age like her, so you can stay with her forever, you were both so happy. Getting married immediately after the spell was cast.

"When are you going to finish that?" She offered you a smile before her her attention averted to the things around her big table, her hands reaching out to seemingly gather what she needed for her next 'experiment'.

"Almost done, darling. I will just need to put all these in the cauldron and cast some spells, then voila..." She chuckled while your eyes gaze at how veiny her hands are as you slowly stalked forward.

Your eyes analyzed the table, realizing that she is not 'almost' done, the same phrase she would tell you but broken one too many times. You suddenly felt irritated.

"But, I'm hungry..." Agatha snapped her head and looked at you, her eyes narrowing and an unsure smile forming in her face.

"Then... cook something, baby...? I got you some fruits earlier, remember?" Going back to what she was doing, missing the way you frowned as your hands clenched into a fist. "Eat those for the meantime, yeah? I'll cook you something later." She dismissed, her hands working on whatever on the table.

"But... I don't want fruits..." You tried to reason out as you started getting frustrated. Usually, when you come down here, it's a sign for Agatha to finally take a break... you know it's still too early to take a break, but... you want her to do it now!

"Hmm, well what do you want, my love?" She asked, not bothering to look at you but if flashed a hope inside of you. A smile made its way to your face, your frown disappearing.

"Uhmmm, sandwich? And uhmm, some hasbrowns! And hotlinks! I could do just the hotlink with bread." You explained, waiting for her to clean up everything, but you slowly frowned when she started reading something on the book, her hands working on it painfully slow.

"Oh yeah?" You nodded, even though she couldn't see you. "Well, then why don't you cook those? I just restocked everything yesterday, baby, suit yourself and wait for me? Yeah?" Your breathing started to get uneven, you lips parted as you breathed heavily.

If you're inside a cartoon show, there would be smoke coming out of your ears.

"But, I want you to cook it!" Stomping your feet, Agatha's head snapped to meet your eyes, her eyebrows furrowing at the sudden attitude. "You've been here since forever!" You yelled out, your high pitched voice ringing in Agatha's ear before you punched both of your hands on the table—too hard, that the cauldron beside your hand that you didn't notice fell as the side of your hand landed on small table that it was sitting up on.

"Y/n!" Agatha screamed in concern, her hand immediately reaching out for yours to look for any injuries, ignoring the substance that she waited for days to be used flowing on the floor, wetting some of her books.

You pulled away immediately as soon as her hands came in contact with yours, the action making her frown more as the situation hit her like a bus. She was just trying to check on you! Right after you gave her an attitude!

"What the hell is happening to you?" She asked, not yelling, but sounding like a mother scolding her child.

She was overtowering you so you had to stand on your tippy toes as you screamed like a child, yet you still didn't meet her height. "I just want to spend time with you! You've been here for like ages! Am I even your wife?" You said, as if she did something so bad to you.

Frowning even more, she backed up, as if scared of you—a big bear in front of her. "W-what? Baby, it's just been two hours? Why are you acting this way-" She was cut off by your high pitched voice once again booming in the atmosphere.

She was so gentle. God, she was so so gentle, and somehow it made you so pissed even more. You wished she did something bad to you, like cursed you or something so you'll have a good reason to give her this treatment. The same actions she's been dealing with and also trying to make right.

"I'm acting this way because you don't wanna spend time with me!" At the feeling of wetness on her feet, frustration grew inside of her.

"God, can you just give me some space for a couple of minutes, Y/n? I'm almost done here! I told you I'll get back to you immediately, baby." She was scolding you, but god was she so gentle with it. It made your eyes gloss as guilt started to creep up, just as soon as it entered your system, it quickly left when she walked passed you.

"God, Y/n..." You heard her whispered under her breath. Your lips trembled as the floodgates opened, you were left the standing as Agatha left the house, deciding to cool her head off, not wanting to say mean things to you as she felt it resurfacing.

It had happened a couple of times and she was not proud of it, she gave no mercy to anyone whom will cross her, it happened to you once when you fought over something so stupid. She didn't like how she treated you, and even when she has the reason to say those words to you, she will never give herself any consideration for making you feel the way you felt.

You breaking face was enough for her walls crumble, after the last fight, she learned how to handle her anger issues, how to press a stop on her tounge before it can be sharpen towards you, and especially how to deal with bad situations before it can lead to a big fight.

She won't lie, you were immature, she slowly learned that especially when you first started dating, being an only child and getting everything you wanted, but she dealt with it oh so perfectly, helping you improved. Gladly, you did improved, you developed and she was more than proud of it.

She knew she had it in her plate the moment she decided to date someone younger... not just by a course of year, a hundred of years... plus, you were a mortal. A young mortal who still haven't experienced much and learned many. Agatha herself was even surprised with how understanding she had gotten, especially with you.

"Huh..." Realization hit her as she stared into nothingness. She should've known. Gosh, stupid. She was too caught up in making a new antidote for when you would get your allergies at night that she didn't managed to put pieces together.

Of course you had to be on your period to be acting that way.

Taking a deep breath she closed her eyes, before standing up leaving the bathroom. As soon as she left the bathroom, her eyes went on the living room, frowning when she saw the things on the floor, immediately going there and picking it up one by one.

Looking at the television, her lips turned upward before shutting it off. Clutching the plushie in her arms after putting the rest on the couch, she turned and started walking towards the stairs, meeting Senior Scratchy along the way.

Bending down, she picked him up, cradling him in her chest. "Let's go get Mommy, hmm? Gotta make her happy even though she's mean earlier, yeah? But, Mama loves her so much so we gotta be the one to say sorry..." Chuckling as she baby talked the rabbit while making her way to your shared bedroom, where she knows you'll be—she could feel you, she can't be wrong.

Knocking three times softly, putting the plushie beneath her armpit, locking it between her side and biceps. "Mrs. Harkness?" Receiving no response, she opened the door, her eyes immediately dropping down to the human outline underneath the big blanket.

"Someone's got a delivery for you..." She said softly, her voice playful as her eyes raked over your hidden figure. Sitting down on the side of the bed, she put the plushie down and Senior Scratchy beside it. "Darling..." Reaching down, she tugged at the blanket, surprised when it easily went down and revealed your face.

With your hair all over, some covering your face while your cheeks was left with an evidence of tears, she couldn't help but feel guilty. Though, she knows she has no reason to, her heart is reserved to be the softest only for you, even her powers is no good when fighting it.

"Oww, my sweetness." She mumbled, her hands reaching out to gently put your hairs away from you closed eyes. You must've cried yourself to sleep, thinking of the worse and Agatha could only imagine, knowing you, she knows exactly what you thought.

She didn't approached you earlier immediately fearing that you're still mad and upset. She only went to the coffee shop you both loved and refreshen up, losing track of time as her mind wandered off to the things she would love to do with you on the upcoming winter. Even after a fight, her mind always wanders off to you and think of tha many things she'll doo with you and many more memories to make with you.

She always finds herself come running home to you.

"Sweetheart..." You mumbled something she couldn't understand, your head turning to face her unconsciously as you felt her touch. "Baby, I'm here now..." Turning her body so she's sitting on the bed with her feet on it so she could get a better look at you—to touch you better.

Pulling the blanket down even more she craed your face, coaxing you to wake up. Bending down, she left kisses on your face, and slowly you got a hold of your bearings.

"I'm sorry, my love..." She started, still kissing you soflt all over your face whil cradling it with one of her hands as the other went to the back of your head. "Why didn't you tell me you had your period, hmm? I would've come to you sooner, my love..." She continued.

Your lips trembled at the treatment your receiving, every bad thing you were feeling towards her was gone, left only was the guilt of your actions towards her and the longing that makes your heart ache.

"You have me all to yourself now, baby... I'm not leaving, okay?" Now looking straight in your eyes that are filled with tear, she frowned. "Hey, heyyy... come here..." She pulled you up to lay on top of her—more like sit as her back settled on the head board, Senior Scratchy avoiding your feet as he hopped on the other side of the bed.

"Hey, my love... don't cry... we're okay now, yeah? I'll cook you whatever you want for dinner, baby... are you hungry?" She felt you clutching her shirt with one hand as the other went behind beneath her armpit snaking upwards behind her neck.

You shook your head, small sobs and quiet whimpers coming out of you. "I'm sorry, Aggie..." It is so soft and oh so broken, Agatha's insides churn as she held on too tight on you, her lips pressing down on your forehead. "I was mean and I didn't mean to... I'm so sorry... I'm really sorry, Aggie..." You continued.

Agatha's hand caressed your hairs away that kept falling on the side of your face. "Shhh, baby, it's okay... I forgive you, yeah? You were not so kind earlier, but I understand that you were having one of those days. What I didn't like is the way you put your hand down on the table like that... you could've gotten hurt, my darling..." You thought she was going to scold you for acting like that in front of her and towards her, but no, she didn't like that because you could've gotten hurt.

She was worried, not for her but for you. It made tears burn up to your eyes even more as sobs racked through your body. "I'm sorry, Aggie... I won't do it again, I promise..." You felt so disappointed in yourself. She already talked to you about your temper and child-like attitude, having your parents tolerating you for everything is not easy, but she took her time in helping you overcome it.

Hiding your face on her neck, you held on tight on her like your life depends on it. "I'm really sorry, I love you so much..." You said in between of sobs and sniffles.

You felt Agatha's arms encaging you tightly as one of her hand pulls your head away from her neck gently so you could breathe properly. "Hey, hey, I know that, sweetness, and I love you more, right?" She felt you nod and she smiled down at you, finally catching your bloodshot eyes with a little snot escaping your nose. "Now, don't cry because me and Senior Scratchy gets sad when we see you cry..." She smiled so widely at you that it made you let out a small airy giggle.

She doesn't smile often in front of other people, only when it's sarcastic, but with you, it seems like her smile is stuck on her face. And it feels good to see her smile—especially knowing that it's only for you.

"There's my favorite smile..." She mumbled, bending to kiss your forehead as her hand rubbed your back up and down. "How about we go down and cook you something for your tummy, hmm? I'll cut those fuits for you and make you anything you want." She said, her voice almost lulling you to sleep with how soft it is.

"No..." You mumbled, closing your eyes as you take her in. "Just stay like this for 5 minutes..." You continued.

She smiled down at you, her hand continues caressing you head. "Okay, whatever my love wants." She replied back, her smile staying as she looked down at your face, wiping away your tears before bending down to kiss the skin near your eyes.

There's no fight so bloody that she'd back down on just so she could stay with you for forever, but she will gladly concede defeat if it means she get to hold you even for just a minute. There's no mountains so big and ocean so long she wouldn't cross just to get to you.

°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~°^~

Author's Note: Hope you like it! tell me about your thoughts in this one, my requests are open! if you would like me to do another one just tell me mweheheheh, i have so many ideas for Agatha.