#my chip luck fucked everything didn’t it

[hotsinglehorsesinyourarea11037]

Yknow I think my proudest moment was when I picked up a maccas fry, decided I didn’t want it and threw it behind me and it landed back in the packet

[guess-my-next-obsession]

the alchemy | ii. the moment

pairing: no outbreak!dbf!joel miller x fem!reader

chapter rating: Mature [18+ only, minors dni, dbf/secret relationship, age gap (joel is 34, reader is 24), reader is described as curvy & only has one parent--all else is open to interpretation (we are POC friendly over here okay!!), one mention of f!masturbation but it’s super brief]

summary: you go over to the miller house to spend the afternoon with sarah, only to find that she's spending the summer with her mom. when joel insists you stay, things get flirty and then awkward and then flirty and then what the fuck.

wc: 3.6k

the masterlist | next chapter

Sarah had begged you to come over to their house next door to watch her at the pool, given that Joel was busy upstairs renovating his master bathroom with his younger brother, Tommy, and you were more than happy to oblige her request. Armed with a book, sunscreen, and a bag of chips, you made your way over and waited on the front porch for one of the Millers to answer. 

Luck seemed to evade you—or perhaps shine down on you, depending on how you wanted to look at it—as it was Joel who answered the door. He looked as good as ever in a paint-stained white t-shirt and a pair of ripped jeans, his hair damp with sweat and curling at the nape of his neck. His gaze traveled up and down your body, taking in the relatively modest one-piece swimsuit and unbuttoned denim shorts you’d chosen for today’s activities with something one could only perceive as appreciation. 

“Hey,” you managed, offering him a pathetic excuse of a smile. “Sarah invited me over to swim.”

“Oh,” he said, brows lacing together. “She didn’t text you?”

You shook your head, your confusion mimicking his own. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it’s just that her mom called last night and asked her if she wanted to spend the rest of the summer with her, so she’s gone now until the middle of August,” he said, his tone giving away that he wasn’t exactly pleased by the last minute invitation. “But you’re, uh, still welcome to use the pool if you want. I’m just upstairs workin’ on the bathroom.”

He didn’t say anything about Tommy, which could only mean he was the one who was dropping Sarah off at her mom’s. And that meant that Joel was the only one around today, your dad off visiting his girlfriend in San Antonio for the rest of the weekend. 

Was it really a smart idea to spend your day around the one man you’d found yourself fantasizing about in the last year? Probably not. But it beat sitting at home sorting through your piles of keep or donate. 

“Yeah, sure,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “If that’s alright with you. I wouldn’t want to impose or anything.”

“No, you’re fine,” he assured, stepping aside to let you in. You held your breath as you walked past him, convinced that if you caught another whiff of that warm cologne he always wore, you’d be right back under the spell that caused you to act so awkward last night at dinner. “Did you have lunch yet? I was thinkin’ of grillin’ some burgers.” 

He followed closely behind you as you made your way through the living room towards the kitchen. 

“No, but that sounds good,” you said, setting your things on the kitchen island as he walked over to the fridge to grab himself a beer. 

“You want one?” he asked, holding up an extra bottle. 

“Freshman and sophomore year ruined beer for me,” you admitted with a laugh, bringing a slight smile to his face. “Water’s fine.”

“Alright,” he said through a chuckle, grabbing you a bottle and passing it over to you before taking out some thawed burger patties. “How’s it being a college graduate?”

“Nice,” you said, shrugging. “Don’t have to worry about deadlines or finals anymore. But…I don’t know. I guess it’s just a little hard moving back in after living on my own for so long.” 

“Yeah, I can imagine,” he said, cutting through the plastic wrapping of the pack of meat. “But your dad seems happy to have you back.”

“Yeah, he’s being a mother hen about it,” you said, chuckling. “I had to tell him it was fine to go visit his girlfriend about twenty times before he finally decided to go.”

“Oh, is that where he’s off to? I saw him leavin’ earlier this mornin’.”

“Yeah,” you said, taking a swig from your water. “Off to visit Vic. Have you met her?”

“Yeah, couple times.” He glanced up at you as he washed his hands in the island sink, a smile tugging at one corner of his mouth. “Have you met her?”

“No,” you replied, scrunching your face up. “And I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. It’s only been a few years since my mom passed, and well…I just worry that I might be a bitch to her for no reason. Or worse, I’ll find a reason.” 

“She’s alright,” he assured. “A little quiet, a little conservative for my taste, but she ain’t the evil stepmom type from what I’ve seen.”

“I think I’m a little old to call her my stepmom,” you said, cringing at the idea. 

“And how old are you?” he asked, busying himself with seasoning the patties. “I’ve never really asked.”

“Twenty-four. Turning twenty-five in December,” you said, fighting off the butterflies that frenzied in your stomach at the thought of him finally realizing you were only a decade younger than him and all the possibilities that might open up. 

“You started school late then.”

“Yeah, took two years off to work and save money so I didn’t have to take out as many loans.”

“Smart girl,” he praised, and god, did you want to hear more of it from him. “I’ve been savin’ for Sarah’s school since she was a baby, and I still think it won’t be enough.”

“She’s a smart kid, she’ll get scholarships,” you assured, and it was true. Sarah was by far the brightest kid you’d ever met, not to mention that she’d been playing the cello since she was in first grade. She’d have no problem financing her education, but it was sweet that Joel cared so much about investing in her savings just in case. “Did you, uh, go to school?”

“No, I thought about it, but I was never the studious type,” he confessed with a smile. “I liked math and readin’ and all that, but I hated the homework part. Figured all that was important in college, so I just decided to get my carpentry license instead. Tommy went to school, though, after doin’ his four years in the army.”

“Yeah, I think we talked about it once. Hospitality, right?” 

“Yeah.” Joel smiled, a look of surprise on his face as he met your eyes again. “I didn’t know you and Tommy ever talked like that.”

You’d done more than talk to his younger brother, going so far as agreeing to a date with him last summer, but nobody knew about that little secret. It didn’t end in anything more than a kiss goodnight, though, so both of you agreed it would be something kept between just the two of you. 

“Yeah, we’re friends,” you said instead, shrugging your shoulders. Joel arched an eyebrow at you in question, but you only smiled at him, daring him to prod. 

“Tommy isn’t known for havin’ a ton of female friends,” he said, moving back to his sink to wash the seasoning off his hands. “Or just friends, should I say.”

“Hmm,” you hummed, amused by his questioning. If you were a more delusional woman, you might’ve thought his tone carried a hint of jealousy to it, but unfortunately, you were a bit too realistic to buy into that. 

“It would make sense,” he said, shrugging his shoulders as he leaned back against the counter, his beer in hand. “He ain’t that much older than you.”

“Five years,” you added, smirking into the lip of your water bottle. “I’ve been known to date older men than that.”

“Have you now?” He laughed, swallowing it down with a sip of his beer. “Your dad know that?”

“We don’t really talk about my dating life,” you chuckled. “What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”

Joel’s smirk was devious, and you had no idea how you’d managed to start flirting or what gave you the confidence. But here you were, trying not to let your hopes get too high that maybe, just maybe, he’d flirt back. 

Sighing through his amusement, he shook his head and picked up the back of burger patties without saying another word, leaving you to follow after him as he step out onto the patio. 

You expected some sort of verbal confirmation that he was interested, or that he wasn’t, but instead all you received was silence an a permanent look of amusement as he got the grill started. 

And silence just wouldn’t do. 

“Where is Tommy? I expected he’d be here helping you out,” you said, hoping to coax more conversation out of him. 

“Droppin’ Sarah off,” he said, not so much as glancing your way. Your mouth twisted with disappointment. It seemed like he was so close to playing along with your flirtation in the kitchen, but now he was back to being his usual closed off and sidetracked self. “Don’t worry, your boyfriend’s gonna be back soon.”

You let out a gasp of a chuckle, shocked by his teasing. “Boyfriend?”

“Mmhm,” he hummed, glancing up at you from over the hood of the grill with a half-smirk. “And don’t you try and deny it. He’s been askin’ about you since we heard you were movin’ back.”

Well, that was mildly surprising. You were under the impression that he was as disinterested in you as you were in him. After all, he wasn’t really the type you went for. You liked your men quiet and reserved, at least outside of the bedroom, and Tommy was the exact opposite. He was talkative, outgoing, and at times a bit too much. 

“I promise you, Tommy is not my boyfriend,” you said, laughing. 

“Well, seems like he’s interested, then,” he said, setting the patties down on the grill. “Might wanna give it a shot.”

Was this his way of letting you know that he, himself, wasn’t interested? If so, you wished he’d just come out and say it rather than trying to push you off on his younger brother. 

“I’ll keep that in mind, I guess.” 

Deciding to let the conversation end there out of fear that he might continue trying to play matchmaker, you finally decided to take a dip in the pool. Sliding out of your shorts, you briefly cursed yourself for choosing a more modest swimsuit today rather than the string bikinis you’d learned to love wearing through years of teaching yourself to be comfortable with your body and all of its imperfections—or what society deemed to be imperfections, at least. Instead, you were wearing something that covered all the bits you hoped to tempt Joel with, and judging by his lack of interest, your one-piece seemed to serve its purpose. 

You shoved Joel out of your mind as you stepped into the perfectly lukewarm water, keeping your back turned to him. You didn’t turn around and chance a look his way until you were submerged up to your neck, but even then, he still wasn’t paying any attention to you. 

It seemed that whatever had sparked that brief interest back in the kitchen had vanished completely, for better or worse. For the better because if your father ever found out you were fooling around with a man ten years your senior, he’d likely have nothing nice to say. And for worse because despite all the trouble it would cause, you still wanted Joel—wanted to flirt with him, wanted to touch him, and wanted to know him beyond what little he’d shown you over the course of the last four summers. 

When Tommy arrived, the burgers had just come off the grill. You were wrapped in your towel, sitting at the patio table across from a very quiet Joel. Tommy, of course, shooed away what lingering awkwardness remained between the two of you with his overt friendliness, choosing to sit beside you and fix his attention on you alone. 

“How’s it being back home?” he asked, as everyone seemed to. 

“S’alright,” you said, taking a bite out of a fry. “What about you? How’ve you been?”

“Been alright,” he said, leaning back in his chair with a sip of his beer. “Workin’ mostly, but you know me. I make time for extracurricular activities when I can.” 

You rolled your eyes at his playful tone, a smile finding its way onto your face despite your lack of interest in playing along. 

“You have any extracurricular activities goin’ on right now?” he asked, not at all subtle. 

“Not the kind you’re talking about,” you said, shooting him a look. “And I’m not looking for any, either.”

“That’s too bad,” he said, giving you a playful look of disapproval. “Now’s the time.”

“And who do you suggest I fill that time with?” you asked, your tone teetering the line of flirty. You weren’t sure why you were doing it, either, except out of the delusional hope that if you managed to make Joel jealous, perhaps he’d finally be lured into your trap. 

“There’s always me,” he replied, resting his arm over the back of your chair. 

“That’s my cue,” Joel muttered, grabbing his plate from the table. Your eyes shot to his, a pathetic look of disappointment in them as you watched him get up and walk inside. 

So much for jealousy, then. 

“Hey.” You turned in your seat to face Tommy, biting at your lip. “Did you say anything to Joel about our date last summer?”

Tommy smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I might’ve said somethin’. Why? Should I not have?”

“I just thought we were gonna keep it between us like we said.” You weren’t sure why it angered you so much that he’d gone and done the exact opposite behind your back, but you had an inkling that it had something to do with the fact that now that Joel was aware of your very brief history with his younger brother, he likely wouldn’t try anything with you. 

“It ain’t a big deal,” Tommy said, his brows lacing together. “Unless you wanted it kept a secret.”

“Obviously,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes before standing up and collecting your plate. Tommy’s hand was gentle as it touched your arm, stopping you from walking off. 

“Hey, I didn’t mean to cross a line,” he said, his eyes rounding. “I just didn’t know it was that big of a deal.”

“It’s fine,” you said. Anything to get him to drop it. “No worries.”

“It doesn’t look like it’s fine,” he said. “Looks like you’re pissed at me.”

“I am, but like I said, it’s fine.” You moved past him, his arm slipping out of reach as you opened the sliding glass door that led into the kitchen. 

Joel was standing there at the sink scrubbing his plate, his back turned to you. You swallowed the dryness in your throat and approached him, earning a glance. 

“I can wash mine,” you offered. Joel rolled his eyes at that and gently grabbed the plate from your hand. “You don’t have to—“

“S’fine,” he grumbled, turning back to the sink. 

“Did I manage to piss you off somehow?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest. 

“No,” he said, shaking his head and frowning. “Why would I be pissed off at you just because you’re sneakin’ around with Tommy?” 

You chuckled, the sound not one of amusement but realization. 

He was jealous. 

And he was sulking over it. 

“I told you, Tommy and I aren’t sneaking around,” you said, trying not to laugh. “We went on one date last summer, but he’s not—it wasn’t a match. That’s the end of that.” 

Joel shut the tap off and moved over to the stove to grab a dish cloth so he could wipe his hands dry. He kept his head down, watching his hands, but you could tell he was still stewing from the clench of his jaw. 

“Joel, I don’t know why you’re pissed about the prospect of Tommy and I, so why don’t you tell me?” you said, stepping closer to him until his warm scent hit you. Joel lifted his eyes to look at you, his head still shaking. 

“I don’t know either,” he confessed, his voice soft and whispered. “Just am.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes at him and turned to go back outside so that you could grab your things and head home, but Joel’s warm hand on your arm caught you before you could even take a step. Your breath hitched as he pulled you close, his hand slipping up your arm as if to cradle your cheek. You waited for the warmth of his palm to touch you again, but the sound of the sliding glass door opening behind you forced him to take a step backwards as Tommy walked in. 

“You’re still here,” he said, oblivious to the moment he ruined. “Thought I pissed you off enough that you left without your stuff.”

You cleared your throat and turned to him, shaking your head. “No, but I was just about to.”

Joel remained a few feet away, watching the two of you in tense silence, but Tommy didn’t seem to think twice about it. Instead, he gestured for you to follow him out back with a nudge of his head. You took a breath, glancing at Joel before deciding that either way, you needed to grab your shit and go before things got even more awkward. 

“Listen,” Tommy started as he slid the patio door shut behind you. “I didn’t mean to piss you off. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, Tommy,” you sighed, gathering your things in your arms. 

“No, I should’ve kept it between us like we said we would,” he said, stepping closer to you as you stood by the patio table. “I know I went and pissed you off, and I know you probably don’t wanna give me another chance, but—“

“I’m not looking to date anybody right now, Tommy,” you said, half annoyed and half flustered by whatever it was Joel was about to do before he was interrupted. “But we’re cool. There’s no hard feelings, I just…I’m only interested in being friends right now.”

Tommy swallowed the defeat with a nod, his lips pursing just slightly. “Alright. If you ever change your mind, though.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, though you knew it would take a miracle for you to ever go down that path again. Especially when Joel was finally starting to pay you some attention. “I should go.”

“Can I walk you home?” 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I’ll be fine. Right next door, remember?”

“Right, sorry,” he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll see you, then.”

“Yeah,” you gave him a gentle pat on the arm as you passed him to head back into the house, somehow feeling guilty for rejecting him even when you knew you had every right to do so. Still, you were empathetic enough to remember the sting of your own rejected advances and hated the thought of him feeling that way. But your feelings for him, or lack thereof, couldn’t be helped. 

You wanted Joel, and Joel alone. 

Even if it was delusional, even if it was unrequited. 

Joel was nowhere to be found when you entered the kitchen, nor was he in the living room. It seemed he’d retreated back upstairs, and though you were familiar enough with the house, it felt like an intrusion to seek him out when it was clear that he wanted to be alone. So you’d save your feelings for another day, perhaps one where his brother wasn’t around to interrupt the two of you. 

You walked yourself back to your house in the late afternoon sun, your bathing suit and shorts already half-dry by the time you shed them in the bathroom before taking a much needed shower. You were only mildly ashamed to admit you’d used the memory of his warm hand on your skin to get off in there, but it never took much in that regard, at least when the fantasy of Joel was involved. 

By the time you got changed into some pajama pants and an old t-shirt, you were ready to call it a night. You opened your phone to start your routine of mindlessly scrolling until your eyes got too tired to stay open, but were surprised to find a missed text notification from Joel on your lock screen. You opened the message with bated breath and shaking hands. 

Joel Miller: Sorry about today. If you want to talk about it tomorrow, feel free to stop by. Hope you have a good rest of your night. 

Impatience gnawed at you, the urge to get up and drag your ass over there right now so that you could tell him there was no need for him to apologize hitting you hard. But you managed to reel yourself in, choosing to reply to him via text instead. 

Don’t you dare apologize. We can talk about it tomorrow. Have a good night, Joel. 🤍

You waited an agonizing few minutes for a response, half ready to die with embarrassment over your choice of words, your decision to add a heart emoji, the fact that you even responded at all, but thankfully, his reply came in before you had the chance to worsen things by sending a second text. 

Joel Miller: I’m just sorry I didn’t get the chance to kiss you like I wanted to. 

Well, shit.

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[sunflowerxthoughts]

Finally, here it is! The first date! Can be read as it’s own but highly recommend knowing the lore first. Thank you for the love this little blurb series is getting, sooo much more to come 💜

Eddie was coming to pick you up in the van with one big worry in his mind. You were perfect. Literal woman of his dreams. However, there is this nagging in his head, self doubt. Why would someone so fucking great date the resident freak of Hawkings?

It makes him want to turn arround. He is so torn. This is a one in a million chance, but can he promise something so precious won’t go unharmed? He was so hopelessly devoted to you yet he didn’t even know you that much. There was just something so enchanting.

When you open the door, smiling bashfully and looking so radiant, he feels like he has won the lotery. He understand right then and there that this is a chance he is not willing to miss on.

You are just as nervous. Letting Eddie in, it feels easy. He looks at you like he would never actually hurt, but you’ve learnt looks decive and you don’t know if can actually trust him not not break the heart you’ve put back together since you moved to the town.

“You look… wow.” He says, with his hand over his heart. “Sweetheart oh my god.”

“You look really good too, Eds.”

The drive to the dinner is far from quiet. Eddie is set on paying, having worked overtime dealing and at the mechanic’s, but still there is so much he can afford.

“I promise if you give me a chance, I’ll get you on nicer dates. I swear.”

“Eddie I couldn’t care less about money, honestly.”

The date goes smoothly, Eddie swoons as he hears you speak. You on the other hand are stunned. You thought the walls would be too much, yet with everything Eddie does, he chips at every brick, little by little.

Time ticks and you are both in his van, talking about life.

“So Wayne said something the other day. Something about your past.”

“What did he say?”

“Not much. That it wasn’t easy. That it was your story to tell.”

“Listen Eddie-“ you take a big breath, this is not first day material. “It’s hard. It’s not something I want to get into right now but I guess I must warn you.”

“Warn me? What?”

“It won’t be easy, Eddie. I come with baggage that I’ve learnt to mask. And I don’t want to get into… something, relationship or not, just to be left after because it gets too much.”

“I don’t understand, I don’t wanna leave.”

“All I’m saying is at some point it’ll be hard Eddie. I want to date you, I really do. Just being your friend would be great too because you have such a pure, beautiful light. But that is something I don’t have.” You look at him, hoping this is not scaring him. “I’m not saying you have to stay for the long run, we’ve only just met. I just need you to be honest with me. Because I can’t let the walls crumble again, Eddie. I need to know that things are okay, that you don’t feel like you have to run away.”

“I don’t think you will believe me right now, but I understand you. So much. I feel the walls, I know them all too well. I know I make everything lighthearted but this whole town hates me, sweetheart.”

“How could anyone hate you, Eddie?”

“That’s the thing, they do. They really do. I’ve spent all my life being made fun of. A freak. And then you come around and make me feel… human. Like I matter, like I don’t have to see life from an outside perspective. And it’s so fucking refreshing. So let me be that for you, I want to be that for you. I want to get to know you more. I need you to know I don’t see you as a challenge, I see you as someone worth getting to know. You don’t have to let your walls down right now, I get it. We can work each brick, little by little.”

The tension is high. Eddie wonders if he has just fucked up, while you wonder how you managed to be this lucky. It feels like luck. So you kiss him.

It’s tender and it’s sweet and you can feel Eddie melting onto the kiss. It doesn’t go any further than that. There’s a shyness to it, both of you just trying to memorize this on your brains.

“For the record, I do think you have a light. I think you are radiant. And you deserve to be taken care of, and cherished. And listen I don’t have much money, but I promise I’d give you the moon and stars if I could. I am full invested in this, in you. I’m not running away, not matter what.”

Original post Pt. 2 Pt. 3

Tag list: @josephquinnsfreckles @yujyujj @maedesculpaeusoubi 🦋

[chocxy-prince]

The Runaway: Now What?

Milk Choco sat quietly in her room, Looking at her mechanical arm, having lost it a few years ago, in a fight. It was all blurry, what had happened, when everyone and everything wasn’t what it’s been…

Her head didn’t hurt anymore and her stomach was full for the first time in days. She was a bit dizzy, but it was tolerable. She was more worried about finding who she needed too.

“I wonder if Caramel is still in treatment…I may as well check the infirmaries and clock first.” She got up, putting on her gloves, boots, and trench coat. She then left the room and went outside where it was bustling with people, as the Republic had always been, but perhaps not as happy as it was in the past. 

She pushed through crowds and flew markets to the medical district, finally finding the clinical center her uncle had mentioned to her a few hours earlier. Cotton sat quietly at the desk, humming and enjoying her time, it seemed.

<Oh Hello! what can i do for you tod-….Milk Choco?>

“I know, I know, it’s a shocker i’m still alive.” She’d lean on the counter, having heard it a hundred times, she swore.

<Not really…It’s just been many seasons once i’ve seen you last…Why are you here though?>

“Is Caramel Arrow still available for visitation..? and Is Crunchy Chip here?”

<I can call and check, one second..>

Milk Choco tapped her foot while Cotton made her calls, being patient, she wasn’t in a BIG rush, but also kind of was.

<She is! She’s in the Emergency floor, I think Crunchy is in there with her, but I can sneak you in. Just don’t tell anyone.>

“Sure, Sure, promise.” She chuckled, fist bumping cotton, soon taking a few flights of stairs to the floor she was in.

She fidgeted with the insides of her pockets, being nervous. Would Caramel be okay to talk? What about Crunchy? He’s probably traumatized because of everything that’s happened, and the journey to get help for his friend probably didn’t do any good either.

She soon arrived at the room, peeking in the window. Caramel was resting in her bed, not asleep, but possibly napping with crunchy seemingly tapping his foot out of anxiety. Who is he to blame for that?

She gently knocked, and Crunchy looked over, startled and soon sighing in relief and going to the door to open it.

{Hey…Milk Choco was it?}

“Yeah, You could say that,” She’d laugh a bit awkwardly stepping in.

{What’s up..?} Caramel began to stir slightly.

“Look…I need your help with something. A big favor, I guess.”

{What is it? surely it’s not anything against the king..}

“Surely, you don’t think i’m that blood crazy do you? Anyhow, I need to get to White Cocoa’s temple.”

Crunchy paused, almost seemingly smacked out of his thought process.

{Seriously…? are you crazy..?}

“Yes, but i need her and her friends to help us take down these new…whatever the fuck they are. Our loved ones and everything we hold dear are at stake if we don’t summon them to help us.”

{I see…But i can’t leave Caramel here to help you sneak inside..I still have my keys to some of the passages, perhaps caramel and whisper to you some of her secrets.}

Caramel would’ve woken up now, due to the conversation.

[Whats going on?] 

{This kind woman here needs our help into summoning the kings deceased mother to help take him and his friends down, sister.}

Caramel would’ve give each cookie beside herself odd looks and would sigh, wincing when moving to sit up.

[I love the king with my mind and body’s essence but…I see how it is…We do what we must..the things me and crunchy have seen..it cannot stand no longer.]

“Great. What do I need to know?”

[…Few things. The king won’t care if you casually trespass, unless someone tells him. considering the way things are now, servants and maids WILL snitch. guards and other watchers of mine alike.]

[Unless you know someone, like crunchy, you probably will have no luck getting inside normally. If all you need access to is the courtyard, I can have Crunchy chip and I escort you. The cold is relentless, much more than before. You simply will freeze without preparing.]

“I get that…I’ve heard some things during my time in vanilla kingdom. And I have my guardian, she said she’ll whisk me away or defend me from any attackers…”

[Thats good. There are also some licorice masses throughout the black citadel, who will and totally will consume your body. I mean…I haven’t seen it myself but considering what happened with them and the wall last time, I have no doubts about it.] 

[It may be wise to go during the night, though it may be just a tiny bit colder…but i also need to recover more…I still can’t make my hips much along with my one shoulder.]

“…Interesting. I’m taking note of this, just to make a plan when i get back to my room at the local inn.”

{…So…will i be taking her to the border then..?}

[I may only be a few more days but i don’t think this can wait any longer, all it could take us five more hours and the republic could cease to exist, so i suppose so.]

“I can’t journey alone if you’re able to guide me, I’d rather trust a wolf captain than my own skills, aha.”

[Im putting my trust in you not to screw up, milk choco. With all of me, even my wolves, pet them if you see them, please.]

“Of course. I’ll will meet you tonight once i get the flowers for white cocoas summoning.”

{You know what they are, right?} He’d ponder.

“I do. Vanilla Bean told me.” She’d stretch, cracking her knuckles.

{Then i will see you tonight at your inn, be sharp, we can’t miss a single minute.}

“Of course captain.”

[Good- *cough* luck out there…-] She’d wince again, being almost unsure.

[Will she be okay, crunch?]

{I have no reason to have doubt in her abilities.}

Milk Choco would leave the hospital, go back to the inn after having some munchies, planning how she’s going to steadily trespass into the courtyard without alerting anyone, backups, and the what ifs, such as frigid becoming aware of her presence.

She was nervous. 

What lays ahead beside the tundra itself?

What dangers is it hiding that she is yet to see?

(tagging @cuppajj since they like to see when i post the next parts :] )

[stinkysam]

Eddie Munson - Man crush

Warning : none

Genre : fluff

Synopsis : Eddie is happy to hear you'll live in Hawkins and can't wait for you to meet his friends.

Reader : male (he/you)

Part ONE (Summer of 85)

Your arrival in Hawkins had been better than you thought.

On the first day, you got to reconnect with a friend you made during a summer camp, Eddie. He was crouched in front of a bag of chips while you held a bag of food for your parents.

Just as expressive as you remembered, Eddie was absolutely excited to help you sort your things out of the truck. He judged everything that was going in your room.

"Oingo boingo ?"

"Yes," you say, giving him another heavy cardboard box of your stuff "don't drop it."

"Yeah yeah."

The next day, Eddie was ringing your phone at the first hour in the morning (10am), claiming you absolutely had to meet his friends.

Friends who looked you up and down for a good minute in silence, taking you in first, unable to believe you were really… you.

"Are you really [name] ? You swear Eddie didn't pay you ?" Gareth asked.

"Yeah," continued Lucas. "How do you expect us to believe… this ?"

"Let me recapitulate, the guy you befriended at summer camp and didn't have contact with for a year decided to move, from all the cities in the United States of America, in Hawkins. Without even knowing you lived here too." Mike finally said, Grant and Jeff nodding along.

This time it was Dustin's turn to say something.

"This is worse than pure dumb luck. Or than fate itself, Eddie"

"I mean, I have my ID on me if you want…" you shrugged, scratching your head. You suppressed a smile when two of them held their hand up to you, waiting for your ID card.

"Jesus christ, he's not gonna show you his ID" protested Eddie.

"No no, I can, I can. I have to prove I'm the great [Name], don't I ?"

And so you took your ID card out, ignoring Eddie’s protest, showing it to everyone for good mesure.

"Mh. Okay" said Dustin, passing it to Lucas who inspected it thoroughly. You wondered if he knew how to recognize fake cards from real ones or if it was just for the show. Probably the latter.

"Stop that ! Why would I lie and bring a complete stranger here, mh ?"

Eddie slapped the card out of Lucas's hand to give it back to you, annoyance clear on his face.

-

Months had passed since that day, and you grew even closer to Eddie, practically being attached to the hip and earning the nickname of being his man-crush. He liked to explain it by saying it was to catch up all the missed time. There was no such thing as man-crush. Pfft !

You also got to meet his uncle Wayne and became good friends with him despite the age difference. He told you the story behind all the mugs that were hung on the walls, plus those that got accidentally broken when Eddie slammed the door a little too strongly during his teenage years.

You've learned that he also knows how to play guitar although he is not as skilled as his nephew and you got to hear them both play together —though you never imagined it would be country music—.

Eddie made you promise to not tell a soul.

-

This fucking “man-crush” thing kept following him. He hated it. It was awful because it was true.

Yet, very often he would feel relief wash over him when he remembers you're there. Your voice is clear in his head, not fading. This is a nice feeling. He cannot forget you. But he doesn’t talk about the butterflies he feels in his guts when you wrap an arm around his waist or sometimes just by saying his name. Or the ting of jealousy when you hang with his friends rather than with him.

Eddie had a plain old crush on you.

When you parted, at the end of the summer camp, Eddie had not realized his feelings yet, innocently thinking he just didn’t want to lose a friend. It all made sense somehow when you arrived in Hawkins. Oh yeah, he wanna kiss that friend so bad.

Oh to kiss you like it was your first time.

Oh to kiss you like it was nothing.

Oh to kiss you like his life depended on it.

So many types of kisses to think about. So many ways to plague his mind and you found them all. But he was not the only one with a plagued mind.

It was obvious to the connoisseur eye. The one that knows a special kind of yearning. Robin could not be more sure of her friend's feelings. Each time Eddie came back with you, Robin couldn't help but to stare at the two of you with a smile. It was cute at first, seeing the metalhead acting flustered and oh so excited to spend time with that new guy. Rushing to Family Video to try and subtily ask something [Name] would like, things only gays would take interest in. Steve did not read between the lines and just searched for what was asked while Robin instantly knew.

Eddie wanted what 53:05 in 'Fast Times at Ridgemont High' is for her lesbian self and she made her mission to deliver just that plus a not so subtle wink to let him know she knew. Oh, his reaction was priceless. He blinked several times, taking a micro step back as if he just had been insulted, forgetting what he was saying mid sentence. An awkward smile appeared on his face as he feigned confusion.

"Why the wink, Buckley ?"

"What. That's just how I blink. Munson" she says, mimicking his tone.

"Do you want the tape or not ?" Steve asked, already bothered by their discussion.

-

She figured the movies worked.

One day, you came in with Eddie, she almost didn't notice you holding his hand with how fast you went to the back of the store, briefly greeting her and Steve. She could hear the two of you talk quietly, barely above a whisper. She turned around to see what aisle you were in but you had both ducked your head down to hide. Looking at the computer's screen she saw the two of you kissing.

You were crouched, hands holding Eddie's face as you pecked his lips, he was crouched too, hands by the tapes. He let out a small chuckle before kissing you back, his lips lingering on your-

"There's a camera there too !" Robin yelled from her seat, "But congratulations, though !"

Oh it definitely did work.

[alovesreading]

helloooooo! it’s been a while, and so much has happened irl so i figured i’d share a little life update for anyone who even wants a rant from me lolll

okay so a bit of a backstory for context: i moved to the states back in 2020, about a week before covid got serious and the whole world went into lockdown, and ever since then it’s just been so tough to exist.

being an immigrant is hard just by carrying the name of it, and then just having to deal with the incredible load of working through loads and loads of paperwork, gathering all sorts of documents, spending thousands and thousands of dollars, making sure to fill every blank line with the proper information as to not fuck up such a big process, it’s all just so damn much.

and then comes the wait. i have been waiting for four years for absolutely anything to come out of the process i started back in 2020, every month losing more and more hope. and then the government makes a mistake and you get denied, and then you have to spend another couple thousands to make sure THEY correct their mistake. and after that, guess what? more fucking waiting!

my mental health has been an issue for me since i was a child and it’s not a surprise that coming from a latino household and a third world country, i just had never gotten help because my struggles were waved off as me being spoiled or ungrateful, etc.

so it’s really no surprise that this whole immigration process has been chipping away at my mental health more and more with the pass of time. at first, it was easy to understand the delay since lockdown had pushed so many things back, but then it just got ridiculous. and then just adding coming to terms about my sexuality after years and years of forcing myself to turn a blind eye to it, and feeling lonely cos i had no friends and everyone i was used to seeing every day of my life was back in my home country. it’s been so much.

it’s not an exaggeration to say i have checked the status of my immigration process every day for the past 4 years, and even though there was never good news, i still checked - holding out hope on the daily that a miracle would happen and all those months i’d waited would finally end up in what i wanted, what i needed really.

cos for four years i haven’t been able to study, or work, or get a licence. i’ve had to stay home, trying to pick up hobbies to not drive myself mad while my whole family could go on with their lives, having to take on the responsibility of doing everything around the house cos everyone else would he out and it would just be lazy of me to not take the burden of it all whilst everyone else is studying or working.

so i have watched my life waste away in front of my eyes year after year, seeing my friends back home doing everything i couldn’t do, wishing i could travel places or even just visit my home country but not being able to leave the country at all, trying to find little things i could do to even get twenty dollars on my own so i didn’t have to ask my family for anything.

basically, for the past four years i’d had to watch my life from the sidelines, see everything from a third point perspective, feel as if i was being puppeteered by my awful luck.

september 2023 was the month when everything started crumbling down for my family, and as the eldest, it all fell onto me. having to parent my parents and try to solve all their problems shoved me further into a black hole and just, week after week, it would all get worse.

i remember at the end of november i said it just couldn’t get fucking worse - my dumbass jinxed it clearly cos suddenly the deal my dad had made back in my home country so that i could try to go to uni went through but my shit family back home took the money and so my dad came back empty handed, and my grandma was taken to the hospital only to come out of it in a casket four days before christmas.

i was so fucking angry at life. i’ve had suicidal thoughts since i was child too and well, they hit me quite hard back in december. i was angry at my dad for not fighting to take the money, for not realising he had given me a sliver of hope (move to another state which accepted undocumented immigrants in universities) and just didn’t fight enough for me to continue to hold onto it. i was angry at god for yet again taking another woman that raised me in the most cruel way and not even giving me a chance to fucking say goodbye (again).

and so when i went on holiday at the end of the year, my only goal was to distract myself even for a few days from that void in my chest and all the racing thoughts in my mind, and how much i struggled to simply exist.

it was a nice few days, i had fun with my family and i certainly did manage to distract myself. but then we came back home and i felt so claustrophobic again to be stuck in these same four walls and the cloud of grief over me that hadn’t seemed so heavy whilst i was away, coming down on me on a fucking downpour that made my chest ache.

i was debating going back to therapy but i couldn’t afford it so i turned the idea down as soon as it came to me.

and then suddenly, one afternoon after i had finally finished cooking for everyone and sat down to finally eat, i get a cryptic email from my lawyer telling me to give her a call.

i’m not even joking when i said i pushed my plate of food away and sighed heavily cos all i could think right then is of the worst outcome and i got nauseous thinking about how it would most certainly be that my residency had been denied again cos of uscis being entirely incompetent again.

well, when i called my lawyer and i heard the smile on her face through her voice as she greeted me, i pinched myself to make sure i wasn’t dreaming even before i heard her say, “congratulations, you got your work permit.”

i hadn’t realised the grief of my grandma’s death had been joined by the grief of my own life until i felt the relief flooding me at that very moment.

it’s honestly insane how one simple number or card can open so many doors for you. in a matter of a few weeks i had a valid ID, i went to college and enrolled in classes, got a licence, went looking for a car and actually getting one soon, and applied to a bunch of jobs (got just one interview but let’s manifest i get the job).

so needless to say january has been insane for me. my life has been flipped over and i’m trying to figure everything out slowly.

i do have to say, in the midst of all those years of waiting, reading and writing have been the things to get me through and though i have been making up for the lack of writing lately with getting lost again on books. im really glad im finding myself back to writing. slowly, of course, cos i actually never considered myself that good and after this long without doing it i reckon i really need to make the effort to be decent again, im glad im back reading my silly little notes on my silly little (not little at all) docs and trying to get back into the groove of it all.

if you made it all the way here, i fucking love you and i’m sorry for such a long unnecessary rant and trauma dumping (?) but i figured this helps understand a bit more of me and since you lot have been part of such a sweet escape for me, i wanted to share a little of my life with you.

anyway, i’m honestly so glad to be back. i hope i can adjust and get everything sorted so so soon so i don’t have to go away as much as i have lately. and i also hope i can get back to writing, at least decently, so i can share all the silly stories that flood my brain and that i love sharing with you lot.

okay i’ll shut up now but i love yous and i’m sending you so many hugs and kisses your way xxxx

[jeonqkooks]

supernova | jjk (02)

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards

"When the stars align, I'll meet you then."

Another Life - Surf Mesa ft. FLETCHER, Josh Golden

pairing: jungkook x reader

rating: PG

genre/warnings: idol au, exes to lovers, fluff if you squint??, angst !! with a happy ending thank fuck, not very edited bc this is me we're talking about!!

word count: 5.3k

note: ahhh so the supernova people can speak lmao this is my only fic where the characters have only had approximately 2 lines of dialogue 🥴 anyway i can't believe supernova has ended up here!! from what was supposed to be an angsty as hell oneshot, she's blossomed into - well, whatever this is bc i don't wanna spoil anything :')

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

When the bakery owner – Jiwon is her name, as you’ve come to learn – informed you that she would be closing the place in a month, you could not help but sink.

One month. It feels like a countdown to your ending all over again.

You didn’t tell her that the reason you stayed loyal to the humble pastry shop wasn’t because of their impeccable treats, though they were certainly a huge plus.

You didn’t tell her that this place had become a safe haven for you, somewhere you could always seek refuge in whenever the world became a little too much to handle and all you needed was to reminisce on happier days.

When the smell of cherries on danishes oddly meant apricots and the universe. When stars weren’t just luminous spheroids made of hydrogen and helium but were housed in a pair of dark brown orbs, twinkling even in the presence of the sun. When home was not an apartment with four walls, scattered with crooked picture frames but a person with a bunny smile and a permanent tiger lily on his arm. When love was everything you needed and that was enough to conquer anything at all.

“It’s not easy closing this chapter of my life, but hopefully I’ll be moving onto bigger and better things!” she had told you with a bright smile on her face, eyes crinkling with sheer excitement for happier days in the future, oblivious to the way your poorly bandaged heart started to bleed again.

Your friends, family, and even this middle aged woman who is practically a stranger to you, have carried on with their lives. They’ve all moved onto new chapters, perhaps even onto new books altogether but you’re still here, rooted to the spot on the same page even after all this time. A novel that no one wants to read anymore, tucked away in a corner of a dusty old shelf, hidden from the light of day. Sealed away to be forgotten…

What a terribly lonely place it is.

You tried to mimic that cheery smile and offered her your kindest sentiments – wishing her good luck with her future endeavors, hoping that she will succeed in whatever chooses to do next – but it’s sad that you know you didn’t mean them, not really.

You couldn’t even if you wanted to. All rational thoughts were out the window the second that Jiwon announced the imminent closure of your most treasured place.

The tapestry gets pulled apart at the seams. Another puzzle piece that will inevitably chip away until the perfect picture of you and him will revert back to the blank canvas it once was.

What will you move onto?

You didn’t talk to Jungkook for months after your worlds shattered, not until the boys achieved yet another milestone that you had to text him congratulations. There were, of course, many things to be considered before you finally had the courage to send that one simple line.

Thank you, he had replied then, we all miss you.

You were thankful that he opted for a neutral “we”.

Even after that first message, the texts only came every time a birthday or a major holiday rolled around, or whenever something happened in either of your lives that was monumental enough to revisit the perpetually fresh wound of your break to share your excitement for the other’s successes. Mostly Jungkook’s, and mostly because half of his life was on the news anyway. You, on the other hand, never took the initiative to share anything significant in your own life, not unless he asked.

There’s this thing he always did that you think might have been deliberate, but you couldn’t really be sure; maybe you’d have to ask him in another life.

It’s silly to mull over messaging etiquette like you were a teenage detective and your crush’s texting pattern was the single greatest casefile you would ever solve, but he never leaves you on read.  He never lets you be the one to send a message last. Even after you both have bidded your goodnights and there is no more small talk to be had. Even when the last thing you sent is a mere lol in response to a stupid comment he made after goodbye, he would still tack on at least a smiley face afterward.

Jungkook could easily chalk it up to his hectic schedule and leave your messages to hang in the dead space of your phone, but he doesn’t though, and you never know how to feel about that.

Sometimes, you’re curious if he’s found someone else yet – a new love to take your place and be everything that you couldn’t be for him – and feel your heart twisting in your chest at the possibility that maybe he has. You’re in no position to care about this; you forfeited the right when you asked him to let you go, but nonetheless the human mind is a funny paradox, and the heart is full of nostalgia.

On nights where you’re brave enough to welcome that familiar ache with open arms, you entertain this possibility. It always starts with a woman, faceless but undoubtedly beautiful beyond words. You want her to be kind, you want her to be gentle, you want her to hold his hand while he’s sleeping and kiss his cheek when he wakes up. You want him to be loved and to be happy regardless of who it’s with, and regardless of how much you wish it could be with you instead.

No matter how much the mere thought of it kills you, you hope she fills his heart with so much joy that he forgets the pain of your departure. You’ve always known that eventually, he’ll have to forget all about you.

Jungkook is the sun to your foolish dying Icarus. You were truly in over your head to think that you could ever fit into his world.

Somewhere down the line, you hope there will only be happiness, and smiles so big that they make his cheeks hurt. It’s the kind of happiness that you had with him, where every moment felt like being on cloud nine and where his name was synonymous with every single wonderful thing that you could ever imagine.

It still does – and it forever will, no matter how hard you try to burn him from your daily routine and fail miserably every single day – but even then, it’s colored with shades of melancholy, every letter tinted blue.

Jungkook means the same thing as love, happiness, complete and utter euphoria, your safest haven. Holding hands with a loved one. Freshly baked chocolate chip cookies on a crisp autumn morning. The magical first snowfall of the season. Feeling the sun shining on your face.

And Jungkook means the same thing as sadness, regret, your greatest heartache, your sweetest downfall… The sudden pang of grief that hits you right in the center of your chest when you pass by a familiar street or hear a bittersweet tune. 

It’s hard to comprehend that a person can single-handedly rewrite your entire vocabulary, but he has managed to change you in ways beyond this too. 

It took you a while to familiarize yourself with what life was like before Jungkook. You forced yourself to do things that you usually wouldn’t, just so the discomfort of doing things you hated could overshadow the discomfort of missing him.

Black coffee at 9AM had to taste more bitter than not receiving a good morning text, one that’s littered with smiley faces and kisses.

Morning runs and the burning sensation in your limbs had to ache more than coming home to an empty apartment and crawling into an empty bed, knowing that he’s somewhere out there in the same city, only a drive away from you.

Over time, you got used to it.

Over time, you got used to the absence of him.

In this new life of yours, nothing looks and feels the same as it once was. Colors have all desaturated, though not by much but it’s still enough to throw you just enough off balance. Some days, everything is completely black and white.

Black and white, save for the golden key around your neck. The key to the box of memories he gave you that you still have, tucked away in a soft corner at home.

All of your what if’s, your could’ve been’s, your maybe’s… they all lead back to him. There’s no other solution to this equation; it’s just him. 

Jungkook has altered the very foundation of your life, wedged in between every crevice of your being, left pieces of himself in every facet of your world. Even when he’s gone, his presence still lingers, sometimes like a ghost, sometimes like the remnants of a tattoo you can never fully get rid of. 

Oftentimes, in instances where you don’t have the luxury of being distracted by work, by the hustle and bustle of the city, by just about anything at all, you ruminate on that decision. The one decision that broke two hearts. The one decision that’s still killing you inside.

You aren’t someone who tends to dwell on their past actions, because what’s done is done. No amount of regret or overanalyzing can change what has happened. Life is sometimes cruel like that, and the only thing to do is accept it and move on, learn from your mistakes and try to do better next time.

But Jungkook isn’t a mistake. He isn’t a lesson that you needed to learn because neither of you did anything wrong. It wasn’t wrong to love him, and it wasn’t wrong to leave him either.

Perhaps, the only thing you’re guilty of is getting the timing wrong.

You wonder if you should message him now, to tell him that where your love first bloomed will soon be gone. You wonder if he still remembers this place, if it still holds the same meaning to him as it does to you.

It’s terrible if it doesn’t, and it’s terrible if it does.

Before you know it, the end is here.

As you enter the bakery for the last time, your nostrils are instantly filled with the pleasant smell of freshly baked goods. Jiwon smiles warmly at you from behind the counter when you give her a small wave. The other patrons here move on with their day as usual, paying no attention to you, like they don’t even care that this is the final moment all of you would be spending here.

You grab a pair of tongs and a small tray as you browse through the selection of pastries, looking for your favorite cherry danishes to pair with the hot chocolate that you’ll order at the counter. You pick up a cinnamon roll and a few macarons too, to take home with you afterward.

You hope, in vain, that Jiwon sees it in the way you’re just a beat slower than normal, drawing things out as much as you can, as if it would somehow make her change her mind and keep this place open. Let you live in this bubble for just a while longer.

It’s the finality of leaving. It’s the finality of being left.

Somewhere behind you, the doorbell chimes, announcing a new customer. You don’t notice the person’s sigh of relief as they escape the cold into the nicely heated shelter of the shop, nor the way they take a couple steps and then stop for a minute before their feet continue to carry them to where you are. You don’t care about any of it, until…

A soft voice revives your heart.

“I hear apricot danishes are much better.”

As cliché as it sounds, you freeze. You almost drop everything in your hands, having been rendered immobile while life goes on around you. Chatter continues like nothing has changed. To the people in this bakery, nothing really has changed. They’re sipping on their lattes and catching up with friends over shared blueberry muffins and banana breads, exchanging mundane tidbits in their daily lives and smiling, laughing, drunk on the cozy atmosphere in this wonderful little haven.

“Oh,” you breathe, paralyzed by the many paradoxical emotions running through you at once. Shock, joy, resentment, relief, sorrow… Even though all of it only comes out in the form of a starstruck Hi, but you have a feeling that he understands.

Your voice is small, timid, like a deer caught in headlights, as if he isn’t someone you once knew better than the back of your hand.

His chocolate eyes lock on yours, and he graces you with a warm smile. You’ve missed the simple quirk of his lips. “Hi,” he parrots.

The bell chimes again, and a couple of strangers filter in. You move along to not hold up the line.

“How– what are you– what are you doing here?” you stutter, heart in your throat just at the sight of him. You try and fail at not thinking about the universe bringing him back to you. Because it’s not. This isn’t a cosmic realignment. You two just happen to be in the same place at the same time, and if you were alone right now, you would probably cry.

“I heard they were closing,” Jungkook answers easily. When you look confused, a silent question dancing on the tip of your tongue – How on earth would you know that? – that you don’t know if you should voice, he supplies, “I saw the announcement a couple weeks ago. I still stop by whenever I have time. ”

He puts a hand on your back as if on instinct, when a woman almost bumps into you on her way out. It’s a miracle that you’re still standing upright.

You clear your throat and inhale. “Oh, you do? I’m here almost every other day. Funny how we never ran into each other.”

“Yeah. Funny, isn’t it?” he agrees, smiling at you fondly. It’s a little bittersweet too. “We must have kept missing each other.”

Your mind goes to a dangerous place before you could stop it. Your stupid brain digs into the hidden layers of meaning that might not even be there at all.

We kept missing each other.

I kept missing you.

You don’t trust yourself to say anything, so you gloss over his words, only returning his smile albeit tightly, and continue to move on. Jungkook grabs a tray like you did some 15 minutes ago, and picks a similar danish, foregoing the apricot ones that you tricked him into getting a long time ago, just so you would be able to get your favorites. The cherry danishes that you both have on your individual trays are the last ones. How symbolically cruel.

He hides half his face in the thick wool scarf he’s wearing as you step closer to the counter. When you ask him if the danish is the only thing he’s getting, he nods; and when you tell that you’ll buy him a drink to go with it, he refuses and says he’ll get both of yours, because lord knows he has the money. But you never once gave in, never let him buy you things that you are more than capable of paying for yourself. You don’t this time either, so he relents.

In the end, you pay for the pastries and two hot chocolates, one with extra marshmallows. Once you have your goods, you wonder if he would bid you goodbye and leave, go back to his busy life that demands him to be on the go 25/8. 

If you head outside right now, you two would probably part ways. But you came here today with the intention of burning every little detail of the bakery into your brain for one last time. Having Jungkook here isn’t going to derail your plan. You could pretend that things are fine for now, but then what? You’ve already lost him; you won’t let this place slip through your fingers so easily too.

You head to a spot in the corner where barely anyone can see you but you can observe everything, and to your surprise, he wordlessly follows you. If you were a little braver, you would throw him a cheeky I didn’t invite you to join, even though that’s all you want.

You both take a seat at the small table and talk about your lives and everything that happened in each other’s absence. Like you’re just old friends, catching up after forever apart. You keep waiting for the ball to drop, to see if he would mention a new lover and inevitably ask if there’s anyone special in your life too, but he never does.

It’s been years since you last saw him, and a while since he stepped a little further away from the spotlight that he once called home. Jungkook is still so caring – the occasional texts have already told you as much, and you wonder if it’s because he’s talking to you or if it’s just in his nature to be kind to everyone around him.

The cherries taste sweeter today, and the hot chocolate too. But the aftertaste is painful, knowing that your unexpected and limited time is running out.

At one point, you just sit in silence, watching the people leave. You notice that every time a customer exits, Jiwon’s gaze would linger on the door. You feel like you should’ve brought her something today, like a small houseplant or a bouquet of flowers, as a thank you or a goodbye present. After all, this place has been there for you a lot these past few years.

You try to take in as much as you can. How the wooden table feels under your hands. How the bell sounds when it chimes. How the printed logo on the takeaway cup feels when you brush your fingers over it. Their incredible recipes that always make you feel like you’re taking a bite of heaven. All the photos on the wall of Jiwon and her staff throughout the decade that this bakery has been on this street corner. You can still pinpoint the exact spot you stood at when you first saw Jungkook.

You want this to last a little longer, but you don’t know if you should ask. You want to be selfish just this once and drown yourself in his presence, because this might very well be the last time. 

When the danishes are gone and the beverages are nearly finished, he asks if you have a minute to spare, to walk around and enjoy the last bits of sun for the day.

“Okay,” you say and watch his face light up. A smile graces his lips again and you suppress the shiver that tries to run up your spine. You can still read him so easily. He wants this as much as you do, and it’s absolutely devastating. Just two people who love each other and a casket full of things unsaid.

Once you’ve collected your things and gone outside, leaving behind your second home for good, Jungkook tips his head somewhere to the right with a question in his eyes, and you know what it means instantly. 

You head down a small, hidden street filled with quaint houses that you both used to love. You haven’t been down this road in forever; it feels surreal that the first time you revisit it in ages is with him, and on today of all days. Cosmic realignment.

No. Stop that.

The two of you walk alone down the narrow street, save for the few times that a student in uniform walks by, eyes glued to their phone as they head home after school, or an older woman hurrying past with her bags full of groceries. He lets his arm brush against yours as you stroll and marvel at the way the colors of the sky reflect in the old windows, shifting from blue, to purple, to pink all in a matter of minutes. Ribbons of clouds unravel in the same way you do.

Eventually, you end up at a small park by the riverfront when cement turns into grass. There’s more people here; people walking their dogs, parents and children enjoying hot snacks on nearby benches, couples with their hands in each other’s coat pockets, trying to stay warm. You’re envious of the last ones that most.

Jungkook must have seen you watching them, because his knuckles touch yours tentatively and a long forgotten habit kicks in. When you instinctively pull back and mutter a quick Sorry, it hurts two hearts at once. 

Back then, every time that he let you go when there was someone else around, someone who wasn’t privy to knowing about you, you would apologize even though it wasn’t your fault that you were a secret. He would always lightly scold you, telling you that you had nothing to be sorry about, but he could never remedy this. It wasn’t possible back then, and Jungkook never found a way to not make you feel like a problem to be dealt with when all you wanted was to hold his hand.

No one is even looking now, but you guess it’s just muscle memory, even after all this time.

You clutch the paper bag holding the pastries, feeling awkward that you just jerked back like he had burnt you. Eyeing an empty bench, you ask if he wants to sit down. As you cross the short distance over there, you realize that it isn’t big enough for you to comfortably put some space between your bodies. The regret is almost immediate.

You sit down next to him with your thighs touching. He’s close enough that you can spot a fallen eyelash on his cheek, but your hands remain in your lap, busying themselves with smoothing over your bag of treats, fighting the urge to brush your fingers against his face.

You focus on the river in front of you and how the water paints a shimmering picture of the setting sun. On the other side of the bank, cars faintly honk at one another as traffic piles on, a cacophony of noises seemingly so far away from your little bubble right here. You feel Jungkook’s eyes on the side of your face, but you don’t dare look at him.

All the times that you have spent, caged in the solitude of your bedroom, wanting to call him and knowing that he would be there for you in a heartbeat, no questions asked. He would be there, and he would hold you until the sun rises, until you stop shaking and crying, until everything feels like it’s going to be okay again even though you both know it isn’t.

Because missing him comes in waves. And why more often than not, you want nights to last longer and days shorter, you want the sun to sink under the horizon faster so darkness can embrace the sky. Because when the stars come out, it feels like being wrapped in his warm embrace again, feels like staring into those twinkling eyes again, feels like he’s right there with you as if you don’t carry him in your heart everywhere you go. You started dreading summers and relished in harsh, long winters – it’s ironic how the cold can make you feel such warmth.

Jungkook is right next to you, and you still miss him.

Some say watching the sun rise over the Grand Canal in Venice is the most beautiful sight one can ever hope to witness. Others say the most wonderful experience is to take in a sunset from Piazzale Michelangelo, Florence, with a glass of wine in hand.

Jungkook has done it all – Rome, Paris, London, all the most marvelous cities to have ever existed. He’s been all over the world and witnessed the endless beauty that it has to offer, but you’re still the most breathtaking thing he’s seen by far. 

Here, holding a bag of baked goods and leaning against a backdrop of cotton candy clouds. The wandering sun casts a golden glow upon your profile, though he would think that you look ethereal regardless.

It’s a sight that he’s too familiar with. He’s seen it many times in his dreams, but the last time he got to have you like this was years ago. 

“Do you ever…” Jungkook starts and then stops for a bit, like he’s deciding if he should go through with the question. “Do you ever wonder… what could’ve been… with us?”

All the damn time.

“Do you?” you ask instead, eyes still on the water, how it ripples when the wind blows. The cold nips at your skin, making you shiver.

“Every single day,” he answers earnestly, like you had expected him to. “You’re not someone I can forget about that easily.”

Some kid throws a pebble into the river. Your heart, like the pebble, sinks to the bottom. The sun sets eventually, to give the sky to the moon. 

You don’t know what to say to him next, so you just hum softly. One of your hands rubs absentmindedly between your collarbones, where the key rests under your sweater. You trace the outline of it over the fabric, hoping to soothe the ache you feel.

Jungkook continues, saying something that you wish he hadn’t.

“I’ve missed you.”

Your eyes well up and your chest feels impossibly tight. It’s getting dark now, but the moon is starting to peek through. There’s not a lot of stars tonight, though you can never really see them in the city anyway. You want to tell him to stop, to tell him that neither of you can take this anymore because wasn’t it enough the first time around? It doesn’t matter if you still love each other. It doesn’t matter that you’re both a little older and wiser, and have thicker skin now to weather heavier storms, because the world hasn’t changed. It’s still rooting for your demise at every turn.

But… all that comes out of your mouth is this, cracking foolishly at every syllable: “I’ve missed you too.” I’m missing you right now.

Jungkook nods slowly, mostly to himself. It’s so cold now without the sun, and especially when you’re sitting right by the waterfront. The wind is so cruel, picking up speed when it knows you just want to reach out for his warmth. You want to go home.

“What if we give it another try?”

A tear escapes. You lick your dry lips. “You know we can’t,” you tell him.

“Why not?” he asks, a sense of urgency in his voice now. “I love you. I’m still in love with you, and I know you feel the same way. Don’t even lie to me.”

You frown, not even bothering to wipe the moisture from your face. “Because love is not enough! I don’t fit into your life. It’s never going to work. We’ll just end up here again.”

You feel his shoulders sag against yours, and when he speaks next, his voice is considerably more quiet, deflated, “You are my life. I haven’t been myself ever since you left.”

“Don’t… don’t say that,” you whisper. “You have your dreams. I’ll always get in the way of that.”

Jungkook twists the rings on his fingers, a nervous tick. The conversation pauses, and you think now is probably a good time to just get up and leave. You’ll get nowhere arguing with him about this. It’s been a long day.

You will your legs to stand, already thinking if you should walk a safe distance away from him and call an Uber there, but he tugs at your coat, standing up too.

“I don’t care,” he says.

“What?”

“Nothing is fucking worth it if there’s no you. Why do my dreams matter if you aren’t there? I regret letting you go all the time. I regret always putting my dreams before you.” Jungkook stops to chuckle bitterly before stepping closer. His eyes, filled with all the resolution in the world, pin you to the spot. “I was too stupid to think that I could have it all. But I would leave everything behind if you’re willing to give this another go.”

You’re only aware that you’re crying because he reaches up to wipe the tears away.

“You don’t mean that,” you say.

“Yes, I do. I’ll let everything go if you say yes.”

You utter the same words as you did back then. “You’ll resent me one day.”

“No,” Jungkook says, water pooling in his own eyes as he tells you, “I won’t. Because I’m with you. I’m still with you.”

He takes one of your hands, timidly at first, lacing your fingers together, and your eyes widen slightly, blinking at his face in surprise. You’re looking at him, really looking at him, maybe for the first time today.

And… he’s here.

He’s still the same Jungkook you knew.

His eyes are still the stars. His smile is still the sun.

There’s no love lost here, only found.

He looks so sure of himself, like he believes so ardently in you and him that it makes you want to believe too. That things will work out this time around, that you will never have to lose each other ever again.

Stop, is what you would tell him if this were a phone call, or a text message, where you don’t have to feel his skin on yours or look into his eyes, so full of conviction, or be able to clearly hear every cadence of his voice as he promises you a future where you don’t have to hurt.

It’s what you would say if you were capable of thinking with your head right now.

But in the end, all you have is a heart that loves him.

“Okay,” you say, and Jungkook actually does cry. You wipe at each other’s faces with freezing hands, not caring that people might think you’re a couple of weirdos, crying in the middle of a park in the cold. You notice that the wind has calmed, like it’s stopping to watch how the story unfolds.

“I’m sorry it took me so long.”

You’ve never seen him like this before, with the weight of the world no longer on his shoulders.

You think back to the start of your relationship, when a silent question arose in a bout of insecurity. It’s a question that would cross anybody’s mind when they’re merely mortal, a speck of dust compared to the entire Milky Way. 

You could have anyone. Anyone at all. Why is it still me?

You didn’t have the courage to voice it aloud, but he understood. It’s funny how he always understands the thoughts in your head that you never have the strength to speak into the universe. Jungkook took your hand then too, just like how he’s doing it right now. He turned your head to look at him, into those starry eyes that he made sure you knew shone just for you.

He utters the same sentiment that he did way back when. The last time you heard it, the statement – however true it might have been – was merely a bandaid over gaping wounds. It had appeased you in the moment and managed to calm your raging sea of anxiety and heartache for a split second, but you saw how that turned out to be. You both know that ending all too well.

This time, for some holy reason, his words feel just right as they nestle within your ribcage and settle next to your heart. The meaning behind his simple declaration holds you together and patches up the parts of you that were shattered long ago – infinitely small pieces of your heart and soul – into a mosaic worthy of being loved and adored by him.

Jungkook is the sun, yes, and Jungkook is the moon. He brings light and love into your life just by existing. He breathes, and your world is better for it, endlessly so.

Jungkook is, and always will be, your entire universe.

Cosmic realignment.

I want you, is what he tells you. I’ve always wanted only you.

all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 12.11.22]

[fourmula1]

Would you consider writing more apocalypse maxiel please? 🥺

Daniel knew they couldn’t stay here forever. It was nice to just pretend, for a little while, though.

He’d broken in through an unlocked window, heaved his body up and through where he’d landed in a back bedroom – a guest bedroom, by the bland looks of it.

Daniel adjusted the bandana up over his face a bit, the bottom bits tucked into the zip of his hoodie, close around his face. He’d have to clear the house before he could let Max inside and he didn’t really know how effective covering his face was to the virus but. So far he and Max were okay.

Daniel didn’t want to risk any infected persons being in the house, though. Or corpses. The world went to fucking shit before the research was really out on if dead bodies were a risk or not. No one knew. He didn’t want to risk it.

Quietly, bow knife in his hand, Daniel crept out of the bedroom and into the hall where he peered into a master suite. The bed sheets were rumpled, but everything was dusty. No one had been here in some time. He continued down to the second room, an office, and found more dust and papers strewn about. This neighbourhood hadn’t been ransacked, which Daniel was surprised to learn. They’d seen no signs of other life when they came through and Daniel was kind of grateful. It’d been him and Max alone for a little while. They’d met people here and there, stayed a few nights with a group or two, but for the most part Max didn’t trust anyone but Daniel, and Daniel found it hard to find fault in that.

Creeping down the hall Daniel peered into the living room, the kitchen, and found nothing. Relieved, he approached the front door to let Max in. He’d left Max out hiding in the driveway behind an abandoned car, told him to come find Daniel if he’d not emerged in five minutes.

Turning the lock, the door creaked open and Daniel stuck his head out.

“Max,” he called, waiting for Max to join him, locking the door back behind when Max slipped inside. He tugged the bandana down off his face, safe to breathe in the walls of this abandoned home.

“This is nice,” Max said as he glanced around. It’d be a good stop for the night. For a few nights. Before the need for water and food pushed them on again.

“I checked all the rooms, no one’s been here in ages,” Daniel said as he slid his knife back into the holster on his hip. “I’m gonna see if there’s anything edible in the cupboards,” he said, heading off for the kitchen. Max dropped their backpack by the door and sighed, relieved briefly of the weight of carrying their entire lives on his back.

Daniel opened the pantry cupboards, checked for non-perishables, anything they could eat or take with them. Dusty canisters of baking ingredients, an unopened bag of chocolate chips (he’s definitely taking it), a few cans of vegetables – green beans, corn, mixed vegetables - , and two cans of chicken noodle soup. Daniel groans in appreciation. The expiration dates are good, they’re eating tonight.

“Oh my god!” Max cries from down the hall, but it’s excited, not terrified. Daniel almost panics as he yanks his head out of the cupboard and moves to the hallway entrance to shout after him.

“What? What is it?” He asks, grinning as Max’s head pops out from the bathroom. In his hand he’s holding an electric razor.

“It’s battery operated! It works!” He says, eyes lit up in a way Daniel hasn’t seen in a long time. Daniel can’t help but to laugh – delighted, thrilled, so appreciative of the tiniest things in life, these days. Max absolutely hates his facial hair; patchy, itchy, nothing he’s gotten used to as they’ve been on the move.

“Your lucky day, Maxy,” Daniel grins, laughing and shaking his head. “Have at ‘er,” he says as he dips back to the kitchen. The power grid has been out for weeks at this point and he knows there’s no hope of using the stove or microwave.

Luck strikes him in his investigation of the garage. A camp-stove powered by propane. He lugs it out to the backyard, sets up on the little deck of the house and goes back inside the patio doors to find a can opener and a pot to cook their soup.

When Max emerges he’s almost clean-shaven; as clean as an electric razor can get, and Daniel’s heart clenches. There’s his sweet, beautiful, boyish face. Daniel loves all the Maxes he’s seen over the years but he really hasn’t seen this one in a long time and he takes the opportunity to run his fingertips over Max’s cheeks, pulls him in for a kiss.

“Pretty,” Daniel says before going back to turn the little stove off.

He’s grateful for this little respite with the locked doors and windows, a bed to sleep in. He knows it won’t be forever. Others will be out prowling in the exact same way they are, and they’ve learned by now that most people cannot be trusted these days.

Soon what little food left behind here will run out, and even sooner their water will, and they’ll be off once more.

For now, sat at a kitchen table, eating with real dishes and cutlery like a normal person, Daniel savours it and lets himself have just this moment of peace.

[soo0mi]

When the sun hits .. — 17. human scum (written)

hey guys guess who’s back..

warnings ⚠️ — stalker ex bf ( weirdo 😒 )

wordcount ‼️— 1029 / 1.2k wrds

__ seven - eleven ( 1:58 pm )

beep beep — the noise sounded strangely familiar..

you firstly walked over to the chip aisle, looking for something savory you two could munch on. (ouu u a munch 🙈)

“ermm.. what should i buy..” you eyes wandered all over the shelves, looking for an appealing snack. no luck.

“nothing sounds or looks appetizing ..” you sulk, going thru your contacts to find the person who always came and confided in u ever since middle school.

the plan was supposed to be easy.. you go in the store, find snacks, then leave. you didn’t think you’d spend 20 whole minutes with nothing but your phone in hand and your wallet in your pocket.

ring.. ring.. ring.. waiting for him to pick up felt like an eternity.

“what” niki spoke slowly in a low, raspy voice

“dude, did you just wake up..” you check the time on your phone, 2:18 pm.

“and what about it, u got a problem w it ??” he sounds so hostile

“woahh i just asked a question, gang..” you scoff, “why are you so defensive” you say in a teasing tone.

beep beep — the door opened to an unpleasantly familiar face, that lame excuse for a human.

silence fills the air as you both face each other for the first time in god knows how long.

“yn..?? are you there?” the silence is deafening, “jesus fucking christ.” he mumbled as he hung up the phone.

“ynnie..” how dare he call you that after everything he’s done?

“dont call me that, dont ever think you deserve to say my name ever again.”

“can we talk please.” he seems to be desperate.

you look back at the selection of chips behind you.

a rough hand meets your arm from behind. turning around quickly, he flinched and took back his arm, “what the fuck do you want from me, Lee Jong suk.” (lets pretend hes not like old.. ☺️)

“i just wanna have a little talk.” he comes closer to you

“just say what you need to say, i bet its useless anyways.” you back away from him, “nothing useful ever comes out of your shit-hole mouth.”

he kept coming closer to you but you kept backing up. thud! you hit your head and backed into a corner, that was his fucking plan.

holding his hand out, he reached out to your face.

“jong suk.” you recognized the mans low voice

“..niki.” the scum turns around, “long time no see?”

as your childhood bestfriend drags your lowlife ex out the store, you dialed the police. you reported jong suk to the police after you accidentally stumbled upon his attic.

(flashback) — 10:37 am, monday

he always told you that the attic door was locked shut and that he couldn’t budge it in, you didnt think anything of it until you heard footsteps above his room. you gathered some tools you thought would help you open the door and waited till he went to work. jong suk worked a 9-5 job so you had plenty of time to try and open the attic.

it turns out it wasn’t that hard to open it, just needed s lil unscrewing and 20 minutes!

you opened the “abandoned attic” filled with pictures and information of girls your age. it was startling to know this side of your beloved jong suk.

you cautiously entered and wandered around the triangular room looking for clues on what the hell he made the room into.

what a fucking creep. —

you heard footsteps heading towards the bedroom, it seems like you lost track of time and stayed longer than you expected. you patted your pockets to look for your phone but it’s nowhere to be found, “oh my fucking god, i left it in the bedroom.” you run your hands thru your hair and scrunch it.

you carefully walked over, avoiding any creaking noises, to the computer near the erotic pictures of women, you felt disgusted.

time : 1:29 pm

wait, what the fuck.. why’s he home so early ? you started at the main screen Nd found a folder named ‘Huh Yun-jin.’

you were frightened by everything. the pictures, the folders, the information, and especially your boyfriend. You stood up and [bang!] knocked over a cup of pencils, you didn’t notice that it was there. the footsteps got louder and louder until it reached the attic door, you need to find a way to escape this psycho.

you looked around and found nothing but a window, your only exit. the attic door opened, jong suk grabbed your foot weakly and you managed to kick him down the ladder. you ran to the window and jumped, adrenaline was pumping throughout your veins, you didnt feel anything.

you ran to the nearest station and reported him for the criminal harassment of multiple women.

(which is like 3/4 years of prison idk 😣)

( end of flashback ☺️☺️ ) — 2:47 pm

“are you okay?” niki came back to comfort you

“yeah, but he just got my face dirty!!” you complained while looking at a mirror, “i just did my skin care + a mask and now he ruined ittt..” you say, sulking.

“bro.” he snickered, “just tell your millionaire boyfriend to take you to get a facial or something.”

he took your phone and dialed ‘soon to be malewife’ ; “what the hell is that contact name, noona..”

“hello?” even through the phone, jeongin’s voice was like an angels.

“hyung, your gf wants to go to a salon and do a facial.”

“yahh!! i never said that, he’s lying!” you snatch the phone out of niki’s hands.

jeongin giggles, “ill get you anything you want, just ask, okay?”

your jaw fell to the FLOOORRR. “im going to kiss u so bad, kys” niki cringed at your response.

“i love you too, what snacks u got so far?”

“oh.. abt that..” you both told him what happened (and who the guy is, duhh)

“what a fucking creep, i hope his balls slowly get eaten by a dog.” you and niki giggle at his response, “anyway, where do you guys wanna eat?? ill get you two food.”

(what a gentleman😢😢)

no hate to my bae jong suk 😢😢

<- || m.list || ->

[totallyexhausted]

More Snippets from my BD fic because I need inspiration :)

             It’s super piece-y at the moment but I’m trying to get back into writing after a 3-year hiatus so yeee lol- also trigger warning for depression, suicidal tendencies, and dark thoughts. 

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

 Kazuki wasn’t an idiot. Well, he was sometimes… but when it came to his job, observing was like second nature to him. Part of that had to do with how he grew up. In and out of foster homes and institutions- most foster kids learned quickly to pick up on the behavior of others. It was safer. To learn whether to run or be hit. The problem was, he always stayed. Running wasn’t in his nature. And most of the time, that ended with him covered in bruises or cuts or nursing broken bones. Because it was better to be hit than watch others take the blow… some would say that was stupid. That it was better to run because even if he managed to take the punch of those around him, those who were supposed to protect him, guide him… it didn’t mean he’d won- and it sure as hell didn’t mean he’d be around next time. 

             By the time he was in his late teens, he could read people. Their actions, their movements- understand their feelings towards things, their thoughts. Recruitment came shortly after his 16th birthday when he stupidly picked a fight with several guys 10 times his size. But he’d been drunk and down on his luck… let alone pain brought the feeling of being alive. Needless to say, Kyo had found him lying in the middle of an alley, staring at the rain as it washed over the bruises and blood covering his face and body----

             But despite his observation skills- Rei was a fucking mystery. Depressed, Kazuki would describe him. And lonely. Isolated. With the self-care and social skills of a carrot. Rei didn’t need a roommate, and Kazuki didn’t need a distraction. But Rei took a bullet for him, and Kazuki knew how to cook. 

 So, no, Kazuki wasn’t an idiot. But he could be really fucking stupid sometimes. Now- now was one of those moments he realized as he gripped Rei’s shirt in his hands, shaking the younger man again as he called his name. Panic lacing his voice, Miri’s cries behind him as Kazuki tried again to rouse the 25-year-old. After a few minutes, the younger man groaned, and Kazuki faltered, smoothing his hands against Rei’s shirt gently as the ladder opened his eyes slowly.

Kazuki smiled, running a hand over his face before reaching out and brushing Rei’s hair away from his face. Burning heat met his fingertips, and Kazuki swallowed as Rei’s pale blue eyes met his.

Kazuki breathed loudly, “Hey,” Handsome. 

He’d known something was wrong. Rei was eating less, his movements sluggish, and he was zoning out more and more. But Kazuki figured it was just Rei being Rei- that perhaps he was heading towards another down-spiral. After all, Kazuki had known Rei for 3 years, lived with him for 3 years- he’d seen those moments. Those dark dark moments where Rei didn’t leave the bathtub, or if it was worse, his bed because that meant he didn’t care if an ambush came, he didn’t care if someone came to kill him. Someone like the Boss. He’d seen Rei retreat to his room or bathroom, for days, not touching the sandwich or water Kazuki left for him on the nightstand. He never touched them; not even when Kazuki got clever and started leaving chips or candy- things he’d never buy himself, but if he could get Rei to eat something, anything, then he’d cough up the yen for cheap, tasteless and processed food- but most of time, Rei never touched it. Never drank the water or coffee or soda. He just laid there. In his bed, in the bathtub. For days. And Kazuki would sit with him sometimes, on the edge of the tub or bed, talking or just listening- listening to Rei’s fast breathing, his eyes closed as if he was asleep, but Kazuki knew better.

Kazuki had been through moments like that himself, where he couldn’t do anything, where everything seemed too much, and he’d stay in his room, his bed until he felt like existing again- if you could call it that. Every year since his wife’s death got a little easier but sometimes- sometimes it hit him. Hard. Like stepping in front of a train- his feelings, his thoughts… his memories. The guilt. The heartbreak. Tears never really came even if the 28-year-old wanted them too. Needed them too. Sometimes he’d hear the door to his bedroom click open, light spilling through a small crack in the door; Rei’s shadow hovering over him. Once, he swore he felt strong fingers grip his shoulder, the pressure staying for several long minutes before a sigh filled the room. And then the light was gone, the door clicking. And Kazuki was once again alone. So very alone.

Kazuki had seen Rei at his worse. He’d seen inside some of the darkest parts of Rei’s mind as he him- so the younger man’s behavior, Kazuki had written off as him struggling. He expected to tell Miri that Papa-Rei was sick while letting the ladder keep to himself for several days, because Miri was way too young to understand that sometimes, sometimes sadness made you sick. Made you tired. Made everything around you seem so very impossible. 

But when Rei smacked against the living room floor, Miri shrieking as she yelled for Kazuki across the room, the 28-year-old realized that this perhaps wasn’t one of those moments. 

[sleepdepravity]

DISTRUTHS - trial 4

This one is honestly pretty straightforward because (again) a lot of this hadn’t been fully developed and I didn’t take the time to dig into any twists or ways to reveal things or whatever

First of all, at the trial, Tsubame’s spot is empty, not even a funeral picture stands in her place. Monobear refuses to elaborate.

In terms of the identity of the two bodies, Monobear will claim that they’re the two missing classmates, and that at least one person in the class is responsible for their murders.

I feel like one line of inquiry that gets pursued is whether Tsubame had managed to murder the mastermind and has now taken over as Monobear, but I know literally nobody would take that seriously.

Anyways it’s determined that both bodies are too old to have been any recent deaths.

Probably using details about the bodies and information in the class roster, they work out the bodies are of the (real) headmaster and the neurologist.

And obviously of course we all know where this is going, SHSL luck must be the murderer and the mastermind

But in any case when Akane realizes this she suddenly starts laughing, like, “oh my GOD i GET it now”

“of COURSE you had to kill the neurologist, you couldn’t risk her bypassing the chips!!!! Wow! You utter freak!!!”

Monobear makes an implied threat, suggesting that Akane should probably consider what she says a bit more because it could make the others turn on her y’know

But Akane instead reveals that. She never lost any memories. She knows just about everything that’s happened. She was the one who surgically installed the chips, after all, and it was the neurologist who helped to design them (alongside like, I dunno, some other specialist or something in another class).

When everybody is like “what the fuck why didn’t you tell us” she was like “are you KIDDING me?!?! I didn’t know what was going on! You guys lost your memories and there’s a death game and you think that it’s safe for me to just be like, ‘oh, actually, I remember everything’??? And then you started KILLING EACH OTHER???????”

“ah. yeah. Fair enough.”

This is also why she felt reasonably safer with Noboru, because he’s essentially a clean slate in perpetuity and unlikely to Change Into A Murderer Suddenly.

Anyways everybody is now confident that Monobear is SHSL luck, and that she killed the headmaster and the neurologist, and at this point there’s no way she can turn them against each other.

Monobear gets pissed off and just says “whatever!! Fine!!! You’re still not getting out of here!!!!” And then the trial is…..over??? Yay????

[mega-city-dismal-blog]

MEMORY_002

The Memory Farm. Today was my twelfth anniversary here.

           I watched the spotlight of the departing ship scan the town as it hovered away over an empty ocean.

Headed Home to Mars.

           The square, clay buildings and brightly lit ruined skyscrapers were the shining evidence that people still lived here. Rolling ash choked the walls and barricades outside. I liked staying inside the walls. When I was a younger man, card hunting for this long-term contract made sense.

But nothing of it remains after twelve years. The company I worked for no longer exists, for instance; the byproduct of two centuries of war crimes tribunals finally wrapping up.

The contract got handed over to someone else, and then someone else again. Then the NTO picked it up, and that was it.

The people still living in this hellhole and their ungrateful descendants on Mars had no physical record of why and how the planet became a bio-toxic mess two centuries ago. Everyone has a pretty good idea--something-something megacorporations, something-something androids--but no one’s story is concrete evidence. The kids are taught hearsay and old war stories.

And to clarify, Earth is doing…Fine. It’s fine, I guess. Nothing fucking grows and the sky is either gray or black but we’re still kicking, fuckin’ ay.

People live and play, go to school, get jobs, fall in love, get drunk and scream and hit each other all the same. The clouds just rain poison sometimes and the once cramped, disgusting, sprawling mega-cities of old have largely crumbled in on themselves, leaving behind patches of life.

And in my Ancestors’ trash is an interplanetary ticket off the heap. At least out of this box next to the tech dump.

Oh but of course, my job and what little resources I was first given were administered by a hellishly bureaucratic central council on another planet. I didn’t even know that the Dinosaur Committee was still around, but there they were, administering refugees.

Little red stars on the hats and everything. Can’t make that shit up. The contract was of severe cultural significance, according to a newly appointed handler I only spoke with once.

I stayed on. I still believed in the NTO then. That was six years ago, with no luck finding anything significant since. But hey, they still raise my ration card limits every year without question, so either I’m still worth something to them or they’ve decided this is my retirement plan, either way the lights are still on. It only makes me feel worse, though, like I really owe them and everyone else something.

           Maybe two months ago I caught myself going nuts in my own physical archives in the back of the shop; rampaging through my glass neurocard cabinets like a chip fiend, hunting for that little sliver of data that held the next piece of my puzzle.

           A Neuro-Digital nightmare, I had tens of thousands of hours of peoples’ memories, and barely an idea of what happened. I’ve cross-referenced and debunked every corporate lie and it doesn’t mean very much because half of these greaseball megacorps don’t even exist as some kind of liquidating trust anymore, let alone a single soul that was ever employed by them. Of course the ones that left Earth in shambles had no archival backup of what happened.

Of course! Me being the naive little prick that I was at the time, I thought I would scorch a cauterizing path to knowledge in the wounds of sacred Mama Terra. I thought I’d be the one to bring back the record of just how we ended up here like this, to educate the rest of the inheritors of what appears to be some tacky ring of Hell.

           So we started really getting out into the Ruined Earth, out into these steel corpse Mega-Cities. And everything just blew up in our faces. Expeditions started disappearing, the myths became true tales of horror beyond the walls. Thompson-Jaeger’s original expedition of two hundred thinned out to three people, with one of us ending up a living casualty.

           This poisoned land and its last city, a watchful dot upon the planet, devoid of heroes. Here I was cleaning out the childhood house. You have to stay cynical, in a twisted way it makes me still care about this place despite it being long gone before I was born.

“They owe us a planet, cousin. Don’t ever forget that.”

Someone I knew once said that to me. Bastard’s still on Mars, what does he know?

           Live in the trash or live in a tunnel on Mars. Get high underground, under a retina-melting cold white light, or get high and watch the tuner ships race around in low orbit. Watch the corporate shipbreakers make fireworks cutting up tethered orbital habitats, abandoned by the same companies a century before. The same people are now pitching the between-planet stations as the next hottest real estate. It’ll fizzle out, with a trail of body bags following, like always. You tell yourself you’ll get used to the smell here, just wear your mask every day, with options like those.

[dishtothedeath]

even if it hurts, it will not change || manqian || trial 5.3 || re: verdict

It all starts flooding back to him. He's not sure if he wanted it to. He would have preferred if what was shown to him was just simply an alternate reality, a different timeline, anything-- that the Manqian he saw in the footage was not the same Manqian that sat in this dining room chair right now, that the Manqian who he saw drunkenly defend himself didn't exist. That everything that happened wasn't real. It wasn't a part of his reality; his ideal reality. To deny reality to weave a new one-- running away like a coward was something he had always been good at. But this time, he couldn't deny this. He knew he could never have control of the truth, but was it so much of a crime to try anyway? When the truth did nothing but hurt you? When the truth told you that your love was a death sentence to those around you? ... "My life... ...it's... always been at a dead end." He shakily starts, not caring if those furthest from him can't even hear a single word. "I remember... I remember letting the despair engulf me... I-I didn't care about the motive at first... I mean-- how can some cooking show have the ability to grant any wish? It's stupid... it was bait... But... the more I drank, the more... desperate I got. The more I realized where my life was at right now. The more enticing the motive sounded to me... I was too far gone to consider it was the chips' fault that it got my wish correct. It being right convinced my drunk ass enough to... try something. Anything. I was too scared to keep living the way I have for these 32 years.

I only stopped because I... I didn't want to worry my friends. Tsuki... Inigo and Alfie, too... That maybe, my life wouldn't be that bad if I... had them." And his wish? It was a simple answer, yet, it still hurts trying to unlodge the words out of his throat. It was simple, yet so, so pathetic. "...I'm tired. I'm tired of acting as a fucked up hina doll for my family. You thought this killing game was bad? I feel like I've been in a killing game my entire fucking life. Having to live every day in fear someone or something will finally kill me, as the feeling of death never leaves my shoulders... This life never belonged to me. I was deliberately born to have a fucking curse put on me. That I absorb all my family's bad luck so they won't have any so long as I'm alive. I'm tired of feeling like I can die any second any day now, and I don't think I can stand to keep living like that now that I know the truth... that I was born and ignored by my family for their own benefit... that my family took advantage of this stupid fucking family legend, knowing it meant I'd be miserable for the rest of my life while they ate up all the good luck in the world so long as my miserable life existed." He snivels, and his voice wobbles, but he tries to keep the tears in. And the look he gets from Tsuki makes it sting all the more-- he was familiar with gazes like that, but no matter how many times he'd recieve them, he could never get used to it. He could never stop making mistakes. "I just... I... I wished for a normal life... I wished for a life without curses. Where I don't have to worry every day about fucking dying time and time again... and I don't wanna have to keep worrying about people close to me suffering because I love them... that me caring about someone could kill them. Just because I exist."

He takes in a shaky breath,

"But if I died now... maybe I can come back like the others, and the curse won't be able to affect me then. If I were to keep living, I'd like to keep living that way. Though I doubt I can get that..." Not when his main theory brings him to the conclusion that everyone's still alive. What comes with life is consciousness, and the ghosts have that free will, don't they? Manqian the Shadow Beholder would have loved the conclusion that reanimation existed... but librarian Manqian Hou knows that's not true. It's all digital. It has to be. But this wasn't the place to be saying that. "...Maybe this is for the best. If I had successfully gotten away with it, I'd just be living with a worse version of survivors guilt knowing my love has taken away at least 4 people from me." To keep on fighting, and fighting, fighting so hard to live, only for it to all be in vain, losing to resignation... His train of thought is broken by the sight of his own char siu pork in front of him, and without realizing why right away, it makes him freeze. Ah... It reminded him. That the reason he was on this show in the first place, was because he was inspired by his sister... ... A droplet falls onto his plate. One, and two more. Fingers digging into his thighs, he hunches over, hiccuping as he couldn't hold back his sobs for any longer. Sniffling and whimpering are sprinkled throughout the silence. Disposable, misunderstood, alone.

Cursed to isolate himself in order to protect those he wishes to be close to. He just wants to rest. He just wants to... "I want to go home..."

[softly-potter]

Still Friends | Chapter 14: Luck of the Dead

Summary: After a chance encounter at a party, Wanda and Bucky find they have more in common than they realized.

This fic is heavily inspired by 'Friends' by my lovely friend Poppy. She is aware of this fic and I've been given permission for this marvel-version retelling! If you haven't read her dramione fic 'Friends', I HIGHLY suggest it. I fell in love with the story and couldn't help but wonder, what if it was Wanda and Bucky instead of Hermione and Draco? Thus "Still Friends" was born. Enjoy!

Pairing: Bucky X Wanda

Word Count: 33,068

Warning: smut, drug use, depression

A/N: Find the rest of the chapters here; Chapter 1: Greetings | Chapter 2: Unloading | Chapter 3: Cherries | Chapter 4: Worth the Wait | Chapter 5: Books | Chapter 6: Grief | Chapter 7: Unlikely | Chapter 8: Happy Birthday, Solider | Chapter 9: A Christmas Moment | Chapter 10: The Best Holiday | Chapter 11: Permission | Chapter 12: Revitalize | Chapter 13: Backstabber | Chapter 15: Pain Reliever | Chapter 16: Apologize | Chapter 17: Specially Gifted | Chapter 18: New Day

-

He screams into the emptiness of his apartment as soon as he slams the door behind him. Slapping a hand over his mouth, he does it again, his throat raw as the sound comes out muffled from his palm.

His vision blurs, swimming and as he begins to sob, he realizes his heart is breaking. He can feel it, like glass, the little pieces cracking and falling into his cavity, stabbing him eternally like pin-pricks.

Why did it hurt this much?

He would gladly take Hydra over this. The physical pain can be healed, but this? He didn’t know how to cope with a pain like this.

Like lightning, all the worst parts of tonight whizz by in his mind.

“Two years,” she replies, not even avoiding the question. She knows she can’t anymore. “I’m sorry.”

“You're my best friend, my rock. You’re a miracle, Bucky.”

“I love you,” her voice cracks as she looks down at his hand on her arm. “But…Vision..”

Vision.

What a lucky man. A once-dead-but-back-to-life man. A man that ruined everything, and Bucky couldn’t even blame him.

He’s quick to find the Asgardian liquor, quick to unstop it and gulp the contents down. He winces at the burn, but relishes in the easy pain of it. Lifting it again, he takes another deep swig, hoping it will help.

Bucky wonders if this is it. After everything he’d lived through, Hydra, the Snap, Steve going AWOL, a god-damned world war, he wonders if this will be the thing that kills him.

He’s afraid he might not make it through this one, though. It’s scary being alone with your thoughts, especially when they’re so destructive.

He doesn’t realize he’s punching the wall until his index finger on his flesh hand breaks. Biting down on his tongue he holds his hand to him, swearing drunkenly. He leans against the wall, dropping down slowly, salty tears dripping to his tee.

Bottom hitting the floor, he throws his head back, crunching into the wall. He does it again, and then again, until it aches, paint chips flaking into his hair, and he doesn’t know how else to stop the feelings. The feelings had been at bay for so long, his self worth being halted by the gate that is Wanda, love of his life.

Now the gate has broken, all the anger and hate flooding in, threatening to drown him.

He’s gasping, his lungs aching, and he drunkenly realizes he’s having a panic attack. He inhales shakily, willing his lungs to expand but they don’t listen.

Dragging his knees to his chest, he curls into a ball and he must look fucking pathetic. He attempts to take air in again, raising his head to take another swig. The liquid makes him cough, wheeze slightly, and he sobs into the bottle.

“Make it stop, please, please,” he repeats like a prayer, hoping somehow this pain will end. “Just make it stop.”

He rocks back and forth, head digging into his knees, squeezing himself tightly, hoping that will glue him back together. Every atom of his body is aching, and it's all because of her.

He screams, a gut-wrenching scream, filled with the pain he’s had since he was a child, filled with pain that his sister's absence caused, filled with the pain of Steve's abandonment, and filled with the heartbreak Wanda has casted upon him.

The door creaks open, and he’s surprised it doesn’t fall off its hinges. The apartment is a disaster, multiple holes decorating the walls like portraits, and he recoils from the hand that settles on his shoulder.

“Hey,” Clint whispers, squeezing Bucky's shoulder. His face is covered with guilt, and it only makes Bucky cry harder. “I know, I’m sorry.”

A female gasp is heard from the front door, soft and short, and the sound of footsteps patting around the apartment echo. Clint pulls Bucky to his side, arm resting over his shoulders as gentle hands peel the bottle from his grip.

“I’m just gonna put it away, ok?”

Laura.

She begins to right the flipped over chairs, gingerly picking up large pieces of his broken wall and putting them into a pile as her husband talks lowly to him. Bucky can’t tell what Clint is saying, but he appreciates the gesture.

He doesn’t know when Clint and him had become friends, but he’s deeply grateful for him.

After a while of cleaning, Laura gingerly sits on the opposite side of him, her frame so much smaller than his, but she takes his hand in both of hers, squeezing, attempting to transfer any bit of comfort she could.

“You both knew.” He whispers, his head aching from the assault against the drywall. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Clint sighs. “We knew she was working with SWORD to bring Vision back but we didn’t know about the two of you until-“

“Until Christmas.” Bucky finishes, shutting his eyes. His heart has slowed a little, but it's still aching all the same.

“We tried bringing it up to her afterwards but she said she had it under control.” Laura said gently, her hand still holding his. “It wasn't until today we realized you both…weren’t on the same page.”

Well that's one way to word it.

“When you showed me the ring, asked for permission,” Clint says, cracking his neck for a moment. “I thought you should’ve known. Laura agreed.”

“We just weren’t sure how to tell you.” Laura whispers.

She’s scared. They’re both scared of him; of what he might do.

He doesn’t blame them.

[boldlyvoid]

What To Expect | Part Three: Home Run

18+

Summary: The First Trimester

warnings: food mention, eating, pregnancy cravings and symptoms, multiple orgasms, ultrasounds, doctors visits, fainting

word count: 6.6k

Masterlist

She’s lucky he’s a night owl anyway. 

He’s told her time and time again that he was willing to do any and everything for her while she’s carrying his child. That included midnight rides to the gas station for vanilla ice cream, a bottle of orange soda, salt and vinegar chips and a big dill pickle… no matter how gross it sounded to him, he rolled out of his bed and went to get it for her. 

“Pregnant girlfriend,” the attendant smiled, knowingly. 

“The assortment of flavours gave it away, didn’t it?” he laughs as he pays. 

The cashier bags it all for him and hands it to him, “have a goodnight, and good luck.” 

“Thank you!” 

It was still all so strange to him. He couldn’t believe that he was going to be a dad, it hadn’t hit him yet. He read that it’s common for most first-time fathers to feel this way. The mother bonds sooner because they carry it, they bond while the child is in the womb. It doesn’t typically hit the father, however, until the delivery room. When the tiny newborn is placed in their arms and they can see them. They’re no longer a concept with a name, they were a child waiting to be loved for the rest of their life. Spencer couldn’t wait to experience that. 

She meets him at her door with a big smile, “thank you so, so, much,” she takes the bag from him and pulls him inside. She shuts the door and locks it, dead-bolts it and resets her alarm. 

“Oh…” 

“Did you want to go home?” She’s visibly confused. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to?” 

“Why wouldn’t I want you to?” She’s upset now, leaving him in the hallway and heading to the kitchen. 

He sighs, knowing this was a possibility that she’d have mood swings and an attitude that didn’t match the situation, and that he should just shut up and take it. So he takes his shoes off and puts his coat in the closet and makes his way to the kitchen. 

“I’m sorry.”

She’s busy scooping ice cream into a large cup, “Mhm,”  she nods, opening up the soda and pouring it in. “So when you said you’d do anything for me while pregnant, how far will you go for me?” 

“Like distance-wise? Is there something else you need?” He’s clueless.

“No…” she mumbles, ripping the plastic seal from her pickle and taking it out. With a big crunch, she takes a bite and turns to him, pointing it in his direction, “I mean like, would you rub my back and cuddle with me and hold my hair when I puke in the morning?” 

“Of course?” 

“Cause I am so fucking uncomfortable I want to crawl out of my skin, and I just want a hug,” she starts to cry. “I’m so sorry.” 

He takes the pickle from her hand and sets it on the counter with a smile. “You’re so cute,” he pulls her into a hug and then he feels it. 

“Oh wow, you’ve really popped,” he whispers, feeling her tummy carefully, “I didn’t expect it this early.” 

“Yeah me either,” she’s upset by it. “I wasn’t skinny to begin with so I thought I had some time to grow into it but I look huge now.” 

“You’re still just as beautiful as when I met you,” he’s as honest as ever, even with pickle juice on her chin and her pj’s on, she was the most beautiful person in the world to him. 

“Do you want a creamsicle float?” She just smirks, appreciating the compliment and making amends with food. “They’re good, I promise.” 

He shakes his head, “if I ever want to sleep tonight, I shouldn’t.” 

“Yeah,” she puts a straw in her cup, cleans the kitchen up and takes her pickle, her chips and drink back into her room. 

He follows, getting into bed first, he sits in the middle and spreads his legs, “come sit, I’m going to give you a massage,” he offers. 

“Okay, don’t have to ask me twice,” she gets right in, and snuggles up with her blanket and the tv remote, it was just what she asked for. 

He runs his fingers along her arms, making the hair stand up, he leans in closer and presses a kiss to her neck, right where the cuff of her shirt lay. “Care to take off your shirt?” 

“Yeah,” she was breathing differently, reaching for the hem and lifting it over her head, she tossed it to the side. 

Just in a sports bra now, he pushes the straps down, freeing her arms but keeping her modesty, he presses more kisses to her one shoulder, the back of her neck, over to the other. 

He brought his hands up to replace the kisses, he ground his thumbs into her shoulder blades with considerable force, she lets out an involuntary moan. Her head tossed to the side, “god, that’s all I wanted, fuck.” 

He keeps moving, exploring her muscle and working the tensity out, she moved with his force, leaning forward and stretching when it hurt a bit, but then she leaned back, falling against his chest with her eyes closed still, “if you keep going I might have an orgasm.” 

“What?” He laughs at her, “are you serious?” 

“I’ve been so sensitive lately, riding on the bus could get me off,” she admits, “it’s driving me insane.” 

His hands travel from her shoulders down her chest, “Is that so?” He hums, “tired of being horny or tired of taking care of it yourself?” 

“The later,” she leans her head on his shoulder, looking over at him, “what if one of my cravings happened to be you?” 

“I’ve been dying to devour you for weeks,” he grazes her nipples with his thumbs, playing with them slightly when she moans, back arching. 

“Oh, oh,” she lets go, it’s the sexiest thing he’s ever seen, her orgasm rushes through her with a quake, and he lets her ride it out and catch her breath again, “fuck… told you.” 

But his hands don’t stop there, he goes down to her tummy, under the band of her shorts and underwear. She spreads her legs on impulse, giving him more room to explore, “how many can you have I wonder…” 

“Oh you’re evil,” she smirks, “let’s try it.” 

With her snacks no longer on her bed, their clothes come off and they head under the covers. He hasn’t gotten to kiss her on the lips since they found out they were pregnant. That was 6 weeks ago. He’s kissed her belly, her shoulders, her hand, her forehead, but not her lips. That was too intimate. 

Their eyes meet softly, mouths move with words unspoken, unsure of what to even say to the other. She leans forward, stealing the first kiss and opening the flood gates. He can't stop kissing her, her legs wrap around him, his arms around her and trapped between her and the mattress, they’re so close, it’s more passionate than when they made their baby, it’s different now. 

It’s passionate. It’s lustful… it tastes a little like dill pickle but it was still something that resembled love. 

She breaks the kiss to breathe, “please, Spence, I’m so fucking turned on I’m going to explode.” 

That just entices him more. Sending him down between her legs, he misses no time reacquainting his tongue with her clit.

It’s so easy for him to get her off like this, without much effort, her legs are shaking, her breath hitches and she cums with a thankful moan. She relaxes into the bed, “how are you so good at that?” 

He shrugs and mumbles “I don’t know.” He kisses the inside of her thigh, her tummy and up her chest. Hovering over her, “one more, or bedtime?” 

“Do you wanna cum?” She smirks, reaching between them to stroke his cock, “come ‘ere.” On his knees, he maneuvers his way up until his cock is rested in the middle of her breasts, she squeezes them together, letting him lightly thrust his hips. 

She sticks her tongue out, teasing the tip of his cock every time it pokes through. He makes the most delicious moans, holding the headboard for support, his eyes closed, he’s in heaven. Her breasts are so firm, and her tongue is hot and wet, it’s just enough pressure to send him over the edge just as fast as she did. 

“I—“ he’s so close to warning her when it happens, his hips sputter and still, his voice cracks and he cums. Eyes squeezed shut, he tries to catch his breath, within seconds, he opens his eyes to her laughing, cum all over her chest and chin, “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be,” she smiles, “you look so hot like that.” 

They get cleaned up and comfortable after that. Laying on her left side, she has her leg hitched over her body pillow and Spencer cuddled into her back. He runs his hand over her belly. He presses a kiss to her shoulder one more time. 

“I can’t wait till she can kick, then she can say hello to you too,” she whispers.

“You think she’s a she?” His heart leaps, the idea of having a daughter is overwhelming. 

She nods, “I don’t mind either way, but I heard a rumour that loving passionate sex uses less testosterone so the chances of conceiving a girl are higher, and if I did my math right, the time we got pregnant was a lazy quickie before work.” 

It makes him laugh, “where’d you learn that?” 

“The internet… a mom friend of mine also said that putting olive oil on your vagina, daily, will help you become more elasticated down there and prevent you from tearing.” 

“Okay…” 

She rolls onto her back then, and he props his head up and looks at her in the darkness. She sighs, “I’ve just been looking up everything I can, I’ve seen some moms on YouTube recommend products and things they needed versus things they never used, I want to be prepared but I’m terrified at the same time.”

“I’m scared too,” he runs his free hand over her arm, gently soothing her. “We have so much to do still, the lawyers want to set up a meeting, we have to pick a doctor and a pediatrician, I want to buy a house soon, I’ll probably have to get a reliable car and apply for paternity leave, and decide if I even want to stay with the BAU cause I’ve seen it tear families apart and ruin relationships and I really don’t want to ruin anything that we’re about to build.”

He watches her eyes tear up, “you’re going to be such a good dad Spence.” She places her hand on his cheek and guides him down into another kiss.

He gets close, but he doesn’t follow through. He pulls back again, “what are we doing?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Are we just friends having a baby? Is there a possible future for us or are we co-parents who kiss sometimes?” He lets his worries out. 

“I miss before we got pregnant when it felt like we were dating,” she admits. “you basically lived here, we were having sex all the time and you made the most delicious pasta in the world… I still don’t know what you could possibly mean by people don’t like you 'cause you’re weird? Cause you’re honestly the blueprint for a perfect boyfriend.”

It makes him laugh, “I miss how it was before too… we only have 8 months left until our dynamic changes all over again, so what if we take this time to date? We can do whatever we want together and enjoy it while we can?” 

She nods, “when I’m not sick and tired, I’d love to go to the movies with you after work, sometime this week?” 

He nods, leaning back in and finally pressing a kiss to her lips. And then another, and another, until she’s smiling and pushing him back, “we actually have to sleep at some point tonight.” 

He kisses her shoulder and cuddles into her bosom, snuggling against her boob quickly, he sighs, “fine, goodnight.” 

“Goodnight, Dad,” she runs her fingers through his hair, it’s such a soothing motion it lulls him to sleep quickly. 

But not quick enough for him to miss her saying “we love you.” 

—

It was supposed to be a movie date, Just the two of them on Thursday night after work. It gets pushed to the week after when he’s sent to Alaska for a case, she’s missed him so much she’s willing to do absolutely anything to spend time with him. 

So she went out on her lunch break and bought a new dress for him, it was cute and black and fit her perfectly. Showing off her bump because she expected only Spencer and strangers to see her, until they were in the dark theatre, with eyes preoccupied. 

Her crush on Spencer was enormous, she called it a crush even though it was more than that. She was in love with the father of her child. The man she met online, after everyone in her life told her not to fuck a stranger just to have a baby, she ended up finding the love of her life… and his 7 friends who came with him. 

“I’m sorry…” he presses his lips together awkwardly, meeting her in the lobby of D.C Metro Dispatch. 

“What did you do?” 

“The teams having a party at the house Derek just renovated, I tried to tell them I couldn’t come, but they won’t have it, Penelope literally drove me here to get you so I couldn’t disappear.”

She sighs, running her hand under her belly was her new favourite thing to do when stressed, but it also conveniently showed him how big she’s gotten in the 11 days since he last saw her. “They’re gonna know.” 

“Oh wow,” his hands go right to her stomach, she lets him have a feel, smiling as she watches his hands move around. “8 weeks… are you sure?” 

She nods, “I have the bloodwork to prove it.” 

He just smiles, “I can’t wait to see it later… here, you can wear this to cover the bump.” He takes off his blazer and puts it on her, buttoning it in the middle and fixing her necklace. “It goes together, you look nice.” 

She lets out a deep sigh, “yeah, I guess.” 

“I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s fine, you just have to make up for it later,” she pats his shoulder and walks out the door. “Where’s this friend parked?” 

“You’re looking at her,” Spencer points at the bright orange Cadillac with it’s top-down. 

A blonde woman sat in the front, scarf around her head and big pink glasses on, “get in honey.” 

“Wow,” she walks over to the passenger seat, gently running her car over the paint job. “I love the sparkle in the paint."

“Names Ester,” Penelope leans over and opens the door from the inside, letting her sit in the front, making Spencer hop in the back. 

She’s too mesmerized by the interior to see that Penelope’s eyes are only on her tummy, she knew the difference between a regular sitting tummy and a pregnant sitting tummy… she turned to Spencer with a knowing smirk, “so… I guess you two spend a lot of time together?” 

“Yeah,” she puts her seatbelt on, holding her purse in her lap, “I wanted to go to the movies, but this should be fun. Do you know what food will be there? I’m starving.” 

She just smirks, “it's a feast, don't worry, but if you don’t like anything I’ll order a pizza.” 

“I’m sure I’ll love it,” she smiles back, adoring Penelope already. “Spencer says you go all out for parties, I heard that JJ’s baby shower had a 3-foot-tall cake that looked like a stork delivering a baby in a basket?” 

“Yes,” she smirks, “looking to plan a shower anytime soon.” 

“I fucking told you,” she turns back to him, “what a great help this blazer is.” 

“So you are?” Penelope takes her glasses off, tearing up with her hand over her heart, “really?” 

She nods, crying now too, “don’t ruin my makeup, it’s supposed to be a secret.” 

“It’s safe with me,” she places her hand on Y/N’s knee. “Oh, I’m so happy for you. And when you’re ready to share, I’d love to hear how it all happened?” 

“We had sex,” she changes the mood with a joke. 

“I realized,” Penelope couldn’t help but laugh. “I just mean, were you together before? Are you together now? How’d it happen?” 

“I know,” Y/N laughs too, “maybe one day.”

The ride back is mostly silent, the wind is too loud to have any conversation comfortably and she rather enjoys the way the cold wind keeps her mind off the motion sickness. 

The first thing she notices when they arrive is the for sale sign on the lawn. 

When they park, she’s star-struck by the home. It’s beautiful, the garden is immaculate, and it’s a house she’d see in Home and Garden Magazine and dream about owning one day. “He’s selling this?” 

“Yeah, he likes to flip them,” Penelope says it so flippantly as if it’s not the most beautiful house ever. 

“Like it?” Derek asks from the front door, he takes a few steps out and extends a hand to her, helping her up the few stares like a true gentleman. 

“It’s beautiful!” 

“Care for a tour? May I take your coat?” He offers in an overly chivalrous voice. 

“No,” she’s quick to wrap it around herself more, “I’m a bit chill from the ride here.” 

“Well come in, come in,” he takes her inside. 

He shows her the renovations he did, restoring the natural windowsills and shutters outside, he buffed the railing and painted it white. Every room has fresh paint, the fireplace in the living space has been re-bricked, it’s lively and spacious, she can’t help but think of how she’d decorate it. 

The laundry room is fantastic. The kitchen is a dream. There’s a finished basement with a new water heater and furnace, it’s perfect for a playroom. But upstairs, on the second floor, there are 4 bedrooms and an office above the garage. It’s everything on her list, surely everything on Spencers. She wants it. 

She turns to ask him, but he’s not with them. It’s just her and Derek in what would be the nursery, or at least that’s how its staged for the Realtor photos. “where’d—

“Not sure,” he shrugs, “but we can go back down if you want?” 

“Yeah,” she turns to leave, making her way down the steps when she stops on the landing, “how much are you asking for the house?” 

“Are you in the market?” He comes to a halt, too.

She nods enthusiastically, “I just haven’t seen anything this perfect yet.” 

“We can talk numbers later,” Derek smiles when he sees Spencer waiting at the bottom of the steps for her. 

They’re together again for all of 3 seconds when Penelope comes into the room.

“We need ice,” Penelope hands her wallet to Spencer. “You and Derek, walk down to the corner store and get some.” 

“But—“ he starts to protest. 

“I’ll be fine,” Y/N pats his lower back, “do you need any help in the kitchen, Pen?” 

“This is why I like you,” she tucks her arm under Y/N’s and leads her to the kitchen, “bye, boys!” 

“You remember Emily, right?” Penelope asks as they walk under the archway that separates the rooms. 

“It’s nice to see you again,” she smiles, reaching her hand out to shake Emily’s. 

“It’s been so long since we saw you last,” she whines. “It’s so nice to have you here, Spencer talks about you all the time.” 

“He does?” She gleams. 

They both nod, “non-freaking-stop,” Penelope exaggerates. 

She’s overly bashful, looking down at her belly as she absentmindedly made it look bigger again. “You think he likes me?” 

They laugh, “ya think?” 

“He’s not super vocal with affection,” she shrugs. “Like, I know he enjoys spending time with me, we have all these plans for the future, we basically live together when he is home… I just wish I knew how he felt about Me.” 

Emily sits down at the dining table, causing Penny and her to follow, “the other day on the plane home, he was so excited to finally come home and see you, and Derek was bugging him about having a crush on you…” 

“And?” She wants to hear it all now. 

“Derek said ‘how can you be so obsessed with a woman you barely know?’” Penelope recounts. 

“And Spencer goes on this long-winded rant about the colour of your eyes, the way you talk in your sleep, how there’s one hair at the back of his neck that curls perfectly and you always play with it when you cuddle. He thinks your perfect, I think he’s in love with you.” 

Her heart absolutely melts. “I really hope he does.” 

“Wait…” Penelope is confused. “You’re having his baby but he’s never told you he loves you?!”

She shakes her head, Emily just smirks, knowingly, “he always does things out of order.”

“We only started dating a few nights before you left for Alaska. We were just friends who wanted a baby before that.”

“Congratulations,” Emily smiles. “Don’t worry, everyone already suspected and we love having you in the group.”

It warms her heart to hear, “hopefully I can introduce you to some of my friends at dispatch and we can all hang out?”

“Big party? When?” Derek’s voice cuts into the room before does. He drops the bag of ice on the counter to break the cubes apart, “ice has arrived.”

“What did we miss?” Spencer asks, quickly making his way to her side. 

She leans over and kisses him right on the lips in front of everyone, “just me telling them how much I like you.”

“Oh?” He blushes. 

“It’s nice to see you so smitten,” Emily adds. “Keep it up when the others get here, Will can’t believe you two found each other.”

“She nods along and rolls her eyes playfully, “224-L16 likes to use the open channel to try and hook you up with firefighter Martinez,” she smiles at Emily. “He’s always trying to hook his wife’s friends up.”

“Who’s he?” Emily asks. 

“She’s a very hot, very badass firefighter from the 338, she kinda looks like if JJ and Penelope Cruz had a baby. She’s so cool,” she practically swoons. 

“Hm,” Emily doesn’t have much to add, “I’ll have to ask him about her.” 

“And our Paramedic friend, Jaz Baker, she’s newly divorced and looking for someone that will make her ex pissed that he lost her… so we were thinking about introducing her to Hotch?” 

“Oh, that would be good for him!” Penelope cheers. “we just need someone for Derek now.” 

“aren’t you two together?” From all the stories she’s heard, Y/N really thought Penny and Derek were a thing. 

They both laugh, “no, no, he’s my hunk-a hunk-a burnin’ love in the sense that he’s sexy as hell, but he’s my best friend in the entire world.” 

She leans in closer to Penny, “please tell me you’ve hit it at least once?” 

She swats Y/N’s arm, “you wish!” 

“Hey?” Spencer gets jealous then. 

“I’m perfectly happy with you Spence,” she turns to him with a smile, “I just want the juicy gossip, it can’t hurt?” 

Derek pats Spencer on the back, “don’t worry man, I’ve got my eyes set on someone else anyway.” 

“Gee, thanks, thats a relief,” Spencer rolls his eyes, making everyone laugh. 

Y/N couldn’t help but smile, holding her tiny bump in her hands, she was so incredibly happy that this was the family her little one was going to be born into. It was full of laughs and love, true hugs, comfort and support. She loved all these new people in her life, and she knew their baby would too. 

— 

The 8 week scan was the first time they were getting to see their tiny little baby. Even though she felt huge, she knew they were still so small, like the size of her fingernail, tiny, but she loved them with enough might to fill the oceans. 

She sat anxiously, bouncing her leg while downing another bottle of water in the waiting room. Spencer laid his hand on her leg, “it’s going to be okay. We’re going in and we’re only getting good news. Say it.” 

“We’re getting only good news,” she repeats, reluctantly. “It’s not that I think they’ll tell us something is wrong… it’s what Colin said about my levels after my blood test…”

“What did he say?”

“He was in school to be a nurse before he moved to 911, he also tried to be a paramedic for a little bit but once he made it through all the training he—

“Y/N.” 

“Sorry, he said it was really high so I was either more pregnant or there was more than 1 baby in there…” she hasn’t been sure how to breach the subject since Colin made the joke. But it didn’t feel like a joke to her anymore. Especially after she couldn’t put her jeans on this morning. 

“My mom is a twin, I’m sorry I forgot to tell you,” he looks absolutely horrified. “Oh god, are you sure?” 

She nods, “I already feel huge, I’m going to be like out to here with two,” she holds her arms out absurdly far, mimicking how big the bump would get and instantly feeling a chill run up her back. horrified. 

“How the fuck would I even stretch that far?” 

“Your skin is the largest organ, it generates, it heals, it will stretch and it’ll be uncomfortable, it’s why you’re so itchy, but we’ll get some creams and I’ll rub it into your belly every morning and every night,” Spencer offers, rubbing his thumb against her knee. 

She hears the two other women in the waiting room swoon, “I wish my husband would do that… this is our 4th.” 

“We’re not married,” Spencer corrects her. “I just knocked her up.” 

That got them to shut up, and Y/N giggled. He was so funny, she loved that about him. She loved a lot about him, but the fact that he could always put a smile on her face was her most favourite. She spent so many years faking smiles for other people, that these true genuine laughs mean the world to her. 

When they’re called in for their appointment, she’s poked and prodded, asked a million questions and then finally asked to slip into a hospital gown for her examination. Spencer holds on to all her things, ties the back up for her to keep her modesty and helps her onto the exam table. 

“Hello,” the doctor is extra cheery, in a pink coat with a butterfly clip in her hair, you could tell she doubled as a pediatric doctor as well. “I’m doctor Peters, it’s lovely to meet you both.” 

“Likewise,” Y/N smiles back, “we’re so excited to see our baby.” 

“Of course,” she moves to the sink to wash her hands, “I know you already told the nurse, but when was your last period and predicted conception date?” 

“Uh,” she turns to Spencer, he knew the dates better. 

“You had your period 5 days after the first time we tried, we had sex almost every day afterwards, making sure we hit the ovulation window regardless, and then her next period never came, so it’s unclear exactly how far along she is but we think 8 weeks 4 days,” Spencer explains. 

“Awesome, congratulations,” she snaps on her gloves. “I’m sure you have some app that tells you the size of the little one and everything?” 

She nods along, smoothing her hands over her bump, “they’re a raspberry this week.” 

“Do you mind,” Dr. Peters reaches out to touch her stomach as well.

“Not at all?” 

She rubs it gently, feeling around with a neutral face that Y/N couldn’t read.

“Everything okay?” 

“Perfect,” she smiles, “I’m just going to prep the wand, this is going to be a bit uncomfortable at first, but you’ll get used to it.” 

“Okay.” 

They watch her put a condom on the long stick that was about to be inside her, looking at each other with horrified eyes. Her feet go in the stirrups, lube goes on the wand and it goes in her. It’s just as uncomfortable as she imagined. 

The screen isn’t in their view for the first few minutes. “So I have 3 things to show you,” is how she leads with it. Giving both of them a heart attack. 

“What?” Y/N sits up a little, arching her neck to look at the screen early, “is she okay?” 

“They are fine,” she points to the screen, “I’d like you to meet baby A, baby B, and Baby C, your triplets.” 

“Ha,” she lets it slip, staring at her like she just sprouted 4 heads and caught on fire. “What?” 

“There are 3 babies in here, which is probably why you feel so big for 8 weeks,” Dr. Peters can’t help but smile but it all fades when Spencer hits the floor. 

“Oh god,” she quickly gets a nurse in, they seat him in a chair and get him some juice, fanning him slightly. They take his top layer off, “Dr. Reid? Are you okay?” 

“What happened?” He’s groggy and barely there, worrying Y/N even more as she watches from her spot on the exam table, exposed and alone as she processes it all. 

It was one thing to humour the thought that they’d have twins. It was a whole other thing to accept that she had 3 babies growing inside of her. 3 raspberries sounded like no big deal, but they’d eventually grow to be the size of butternut squash… 3 gourds were going to come out of her and she just had to accept it. 

When he’s fine again, they push his chair back beside Y/N and he apologizes, “it’s fine, are you okay?” 

He nods, “I’m not sure what happened?” 

“you probably stared off for too long, if you focus on one thing you can get tunnel vision and pass out,” Y/N explained, “it happened to my dad at his navy training, he was at attention so long he just went down.” 

“It’s true,” Dr. Peters agrees. “Should we continue?” 

“Please,” Spencer lets her finish. 

“So, it’s di/tri triplets. That means you have 3 amniotic sacs— 3 babies, and 2 placentas,” she explains as she gets the visual back. “Most likely these two, the ones close together here in this dark pocket, those are going to be identical twins.”

“So they’ll have the same gender?” Y/N double checks her limited knowledge of multiples. 

“Yep and this one over here is considered a fraternal twin so they could be either sex. You most likely dropped two eggs, both were fertilized but this one split,” she makes it sound simple, it was nothing of the sort.

Spencer has questions, she can tell by his face before he goes off. “Gestation-wise, how far do you expect her to get? How careful should we be going forward? Bedrest? I’m—“

“It’s okay, just breath,” Dr. Peters assures him. “They’re all doing perfect, Y/N is in great health, you should take it a bit easy but still be you… you’re going to get very big very fast, I’m not going to lie, it’s going to suck. You’re only going to get more uncomfortable, and with the amount of weight your body will be carrying, you’re going to be in a lot of extra pain from the waist down. If you have time, and the means, getting massages and aligning your pelvic floor every few weeks should alleviate some pain, but you’re going to go through a lot with this.” 

She nods along, tearing up at the thought of all of it, “I knew it wasn’t going to be all sunshine and rainbows like they show in movies, but I also didn’t expect to have triplets the first time I got pregnant.” 

“I had twins 5 years ago,” she smiles, “people always commented on how incredible it was that my body could stretch to hold both of them, but the real magic is how your heart expands. There’s a moment after their born, where all the pain is gone, they’re just there and they’re perfect and it was all so abundantly worth it.” 

Thats when she cries, it’s so overwhelming but her heart does have enough room for the 3 of them already. Her life changed in an instant but it was in the best way possible. She wanted a baby for so long that now she was being blessed with 3 at once. It was a great deal. 

—

When she has to get changed back into her clothes, Spencer leaves her in the exam room to use the washroom. But he really just wants a minute alone to panic. 

It didn’t feel real yet. None of it did. 

Without really thinking, he takes his phone out and calls his mom. She often isn’t in the room at the sanatarium, so his calls typically go unanswered, it rings and rings and rings, just as he’s about to give up home, the line clicks. 

“Hello?” 

“Mom?” 

“Oh, hi Doctor Reid, your mother is just in the games room, I heard the phone from the hall,” what he assumes is a nurse, answers. 

“would you mind telling her I’m calling?” 

“One second,” she sets the phone down on the table, he hears the feedback ruffle down the line. 

It takes a minute, Y/N knocks on the door to tell him she’s done whenever he is, he just shouts back he’s coming. He’s not. He’s trapped, frozen where his feet are planted, staring into the mirror as he waits for his mom to pick up. 

“Spencer, dear? Are you still there?” 

“Hi mom,” he lets out a breath he had been keeping. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” 

“Remember I told you I had a new girlfriend?” 

“I do, how is Y/N?” 

“Pregnant.” 

He drops it like that, hoping maybe she’d feel the same level of stress that he does. 

“Oh!! Oh my goodness!! Spencer this is amazing!” She cheers, he can almost hear her shoes hitting the floor each time she jumps with joy. 

“With triplets.” 

“Oh… Spence, please tell me you’re okay?” 

He nods, knowing she can’t see him but if he speaks he’ll cry again. 

“Oh honey, I’m sorry I can't be there to help you right now,” she says, her voice clinging to him like the hug she wants to give him. “This is the worst part about being afraid of airplanes, if I could just get on one I could come to see you and help you. I’m your mother, their grandmother! I should be there to help.” 

“It’s okay mom,” he resorts back to his old ways, calming her down and making sure she’s okay. “Really, I’ll find a way to come to see you, don’t worry we’ll work it out.” 

“Alright, well, you call me when you need me okay?” She makes him promise. 

“I will,” he presses his lips together in a solemn smile. “Love you, mom.” 

“love you, honey,” she hangs up first. Leaving him completely alone with his thoughts again. 

He wipes his tears, straightens his shirt, and leaves the bathroom. Y/N’s leaning against the wall, waiting for him with a smile, “you okay?” 

He nods, “let’s go home.” 

They just sit silently in his car, still parked in the garage under the doctor's office, the car isn’t even on. There’s nothing to say. There’s no way to rationalize how fucking insane was to walk in thinking they had one baby and then walk out with 3. 

“I have to show you something,” he turns the car on, “put on your seatbelt.” 

“Okay,” she follows his lead. Trusting him with her life and the 3 she held inside her.

They drive in the same similar silence they’ve grown used to together. It was often in her bedroom, with a show on in the background and his head buried in a book, or at the dinner table with forkfuls of Indian food. They loved being in the presence of each other, they didn’t have to say words to each other, they just knew they were happy, safe, and entertained just by the other's presence. It was a blessing to have found that in each other. 

He turns down a road she’s never been before, but she’s sent many an emergency vehicle down here. It was a basic cul-de-sac, middle to lower class, mostly rented out, some fully owned. “I’ve been looking at houses…” 

“You see that house there,” she points, “1022, they had a robbery in the middle of the day last week that left a 3-year-old orphaned.” 

“Okay,” he turns around in a random driveway. “It’s the only one that has enough room for us all now…”

“Do you just keep note of every for sale sign you pass? You know you can find houses on the internet, right?” She can’t help teasing him. 

He pulls over, turning to her with tears in her eyes, unable to keep up the act that he’s still fine. “I know, but it’s different being in the front yard thinking about the 3 of them playing with chalk, having a garage for all the bikes and Hoola-hoops, they can learn how to jump rope in the driveway… it makes it feel real,” he shrugs. “I want to have a space for all of us. Co-parenting under the same roof was going to be easier with just one baby, but now that there are 3, I want to be in the same house every night. I want to help as much as I can, I don’t want you to carry more than you need to.” 

She tears up at the thought.

A happy family in a cute home has always been her dream. Ever since she was a little girl. And Spencer was going to give her all of that dream, even if he wasn’t the husband in the equation, his current role was just as appreciated. 

“I know a house with 4 rooms, a beautifully renovated kitchen and laundry room, new wiring, a security system, And it’s in a great neighbourhood,” she reaches out to hold his hand with a smirk. 

His brow raises, “the house Derek just finished?” 

She nods with a smile, “I knew it from the moment we walked in, I wanted to raise kids with you in that home.” 

“Kids… plural?” 

She nods, “I knew I wasn’t going to stop at just one with you… now we get two extra for free?” 

It makes him laugh, terrified, but he laughs it off, “I’m so sorry… you were just so worried about what two could do to your body, now you’re going to be in so much more pain, this is now a high-risk pregnancy, you’re probably only going to go to 32, maybe 34 weeks if we’re lucky, and they’re going to be so tiny.” 

She nods, “I know.”

“Aren’t you scared?” He looks at her calm face like she’s crazy. 

She just shakes her head with the same sweet smile he’s come to love, “with you by my side? Never.” 

Permanent tag list 

@goldensonlyangel @doctorspenceryeet @samuel-de-champagne-problems @reiding-recs @shemarmooresfedora @manuosorioh @mochionly @jswessie187 @k-k0129 @blanchardsbk @measure-in-pain @dreams-in-blxck @doc-padfoot @nomajdetective @xoxospencerreid @mggswhorificlover @dinonuggets1967 @meganskane @kya-li @reidsbookclub @muffin-cup @one-sweet-gubler @shirleyrose @reidsacademia @this-is-doctor-and-its-calm @spooky-goob @strawberryspence @thatsonezesty13 @lonewolf471 @a-mended-pact @ssa-uglywhore27 @hotchandspencearedilfs @venomsvl 

@fightingdragonswithreid @mortallythoughtfulgurl @bohemianrhapsody86 @allybatch @crypticcorvidinacottage @reidslibrarybook @mrsobrien888 @malindacath @simplyparker @gspenc @spenciesprincess @mrskatpotter @starrylang 

more tags in the reblog!!