#trying to stop feeling bittersweet about good days cause it’s been a while

[stockholmgf]

this too shall pass 😄

but this too shall pass 😢

[lovelookspretty]

routledge!reader x rafe, after big john comes back and finds out that both of his kids are dating the camerons, he gets mad, especially at his daughter, cause he thought that she wasn't thinking straight. After a few days, he throws a stupid comment about rafe when they were with the rest of the pogues and reader just snaps at him. pure angst now 🥰 she realises that he's never been a good father, only caring about treasures and yells that she wishes he never came back. Then goes to rafe, crying, for comfort 💕 (i love angst im sorry.)

hold me close

rafe cameron x routledge!reader

warnings: angst, swearing, a kiss, pretty safe !!

authors note: OKAY ik thats trevor n not rafe but erm, we’ll pretend bc that pic is what gives the energy for this oneshot. anyway hii, hope u guys enjoy this one. feel free to send any requests guys! n thank u for 1k followers yesterday. ilyasm <33

you sit in the backyard, the soft hum of cicadas filling the warm night air. the pogues are just behind you, laughing and talking in a huddle. it feels good to see them like this again—normal, for once, after everything.

after the chaos of the last year, of treasure hunts, betrayals, and close calls. you’ve always tried to stay out of it, letting john b and the others chase after the gold while you lived your life. but eventually, you couldn’t stay on the sidelines, not when rafe got involved, not when it became a matter of life and death.

it’s been hard, being stuck between two sides, torn between your brother and your boyfriend. but tonight, you just want peace.

you glance over at your dad, sitting a little ways away from the group, leaning back in his chair with a satisfied grin on his face. big john routledge—alive, after these three years. you still can’t believe it sometimes.

he looks different, a little more worn, a little rougher around the edges, but the way he carries himself hasn’t changed. he’s still larger than life, still full of stories, still your dad. and god, you missed him.

he catches your eye, and for a moment, it’s like nothing has changed. like you’re just a kid again, sitting with your dad, listening to him talk about his crazy ideas, his wild adventures.

“you know,” he starts, leaning forward, “i remember that time you and john b tried to catch that fish out by the dock, and you both fell in. i swear, i thought i was gonna have to drag you two out myself,” he says, chuckling to himself, shaking his head like the memory is some long-lost treasure of its own.

you smile, even though it feels a little bittersweet. “yeah,” you murmur under your breath.

you pull at a piece of grass by your feet, your fingers absentmindedly tearing at it. you’ve waited so long for this moment—for him to come back, for your family to feel whole again.

but now that he’s here, you don’t know what to do with it. you can’t shake the feeling that something’s changed, that he’s not just the dad you remember, but something else entirely. still, you can’t help but feel like the little girl who always looked up to him, who wanted nothing more than to make him proud.

“i never thought we’d see you again,” you mumble, your voice low, barely above a whisper. you don’t look up from the grass, your fingers still picking at the blades, but you can feel his gaze on you.

“i never thought i’d be back either,” he admits quietly. “but i couldn’t stop thinking about you two. every day out there . . . i thought about coming home.”

you scoff softly, a bitter smile pulling at your lips, even though you don’t mean for it to. “but you didn’t,” you say, barely above a whisper. “you didn’t come back for three years.”

he shifts in his seat, his fingers tapping against the arm of the chair. “it wasn’t that simple, y/n,” he says. “i was trying to protect you. there are dangerous people out there, people who want what we’re after. i couldn’t come back until i knew it was safe.”

you nod, but it’s a hollow gesture. you’ve heard it all before from other people—the excuses, the treasure, the danger. it always comes back to that.

you glance at your friends, laughing and sharing stories with each other. you’ve spent so long trying to push this life aside, to live outside of the mess of treasure hunts and betrayals. but it always pulls you back in.

“yeah, you always did put the treasure first,” you murmur as you face forward again. you’re not even sure if you mean to say it out loud. it’s more to yourself, just a thought that’s been living in the back of your mind for too long.

“don’t do that.” he leans forward, his voice soft, almost pleading. “i did it for you and john b,” he says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “for our family. i wanted us to have something—something big, something that would change everything.”

“yeah, but we didn’t need that,” you say, your voice small, but firm. you’re still pulling at the grass, twisting it around your fingers. “we just needed you.”

he doesn’t say anything for a moment. it’s like he’s trying to figure out what to say, but there’s nothing that can fix the years of distance. nothing that can make up for what you lost when he left.

there’s a long silence, and for a moment, you think maybe this is as close as you’ll ever get to understanding each other. you don’t want to fight tonight. you just want to sit with him, to pretend that things could go back to how they were before.

“so,” he starts again, his tone shifting back to playful, like he’s trying to lighten the mood, “you and john b teaming up with the others to chase down treasure? guess it runs in the family.”

you laugh, but it’s a little forced. “yeah, well, i tried to stay out of it. but . . .”

“but what?” he presses, leaning forward with a smirk. “got a little taste of adventure, didn’t you?”

you glance up at the marsh, a faint smile on your lips. “something like that,” you mutter.

but you don’t mention rafe, don’t mention how he’s become a part of this tangled mess, how hard it’s been being caught between him and your family. you’ve already told your dad the day you reunited a few days ago in barbados. didn’t end well that time either. you don’t want to ruin the moment, don’t want to start another fight.

but, as if the universe is reading your mind, your dad shifts the conversation in a way that makes your stomach drop. “just promise me,” he says, suddenly serious, “you won’t let that rafe cameron kid get too close. he’s no good, y/n.”

the words hit you like a slap, and for a moment, you just sit there, staring at him. it takes you a second to process what he’s said, to even understand the casual way he’s dismissed rafe, like it’s nothing. like he’s nothing.

“and i hear john b’s with sarah now, too?” his tone shifts, bitter and disapproving. “so now both of my kids are wrapped up with the camerons. hell of a choice you both made.”

you freeze, your stomach tightening. there it is. you knew it was coming, but it still hits you like a punch to the gut. it’s not the first time he’s made a comment about rafe, and you thought you were doing the right thing confessing what’s changed since you last saw him, but now he’s dragging john b into it, and that makes it worse. so much worse.

“dad,” you start, trying to keep your voice steady, but there’s an edge to it, a warning. “don’t.”

he shakes his head like you’ve said something ridiculous. “no, i am gonna say something. sarah, rafe, they’re cameron’s kids. ward cameron’s kids. you’re smart enough to know better than to get mixed up with people like him. they’re bad news. always have been.”

“yeah, but they’re not like him,” you snap, your voice sharper than you intended. “sarah’s not ward. rafe’s not ward. they’re not their father.”

he just laughs, but there’s no humor in it. it’s harsh. “you really believe that?” he asks, shaking his head again. “they’re camerons. it’s in their blood. you think you’re any safer with rafe than you were without me here? because i’m telling you right now, you’re not.”

you stand up, your hands balled into fists at your sides. you’ve heard enough. for days now, you’ve listened to him make little digs about rafe, about the camerons, and you’ve kept your mouth shut. but tonight, it’s too much. you can’t keep it in anymore.

“three years, dad. three years you were gone, chasing your stupid treasure, while we were stuck here. john b and i had to figure it out on our own. so don’t stand there and act like you have any right to tell me who i should or shouldn’t be with.”

big john looks at you, stunned, like he’s seeing you for the first time. but you’re not done. there’s too much you’ve kept bottled up, and now it’s all spilling out.

“you care more about that gold than you ever did about us,” you say. “you care more about treasure than you do about being a father. you don’t know anything.”

big john’s face hardens, his jaw clenching as he stares at you. “i know enough,” he says, his voice cold. “i know who the camerons are.”

“yeah?” you snap, your voice breaking. “well, maybe if you’d been here, you’d actually know something about me too.”

you turn on your heel, ready to storm off, but the moment you move, you notice it.

the pogues are silent now, all of them watching. sarah, jj, pope, kie—they’re still, their conversations dropped as they stand there, wide-eyed and uneasy. john b, though, he’s just sitting there with his can of beer held low in his hands, lips pressed together. you can tell he’s heard it all before. he’s not going to step in because he knows you need to let it out.

you’re just done with it. you take a step forward, ready to leave this backyard and the suffocating tension behind. but something stops you, a feeling gnawing at your chest, pulling you back. you hesitate, turning just enough to glance at your dad over your shoulder.

he’s still staring at you, his expression set like stone, as if he’s waiting for you to say more, to take it all back, maybe. but you won’t. not now.

your voice wavers, but it’s steady enough. “i wish you never came back.”

his face doesn’t move, but something flickers in his eyes. you don’t wait for him to respond. you turn away for good this time and walk out, leaving the backyard behind.

before you know it, you’re at rafe’s house, your knuckles rapping against the door almost frantically. you pace, glancing down at your phone, watching as the notifications keep coming—texts from john b, a few from kie, and even jj. they're all asking the same thing: ‘ where are you? ’ or ‘ are you okay? ’

you drag your hand down your face, trying to ignore the tightness in your chest. before you can get lost in your thoughts, the door swings open, and there he is.

rafe stands in the doorway, his expression unreadable. he leans against the doorframe for a second, his lips slightly parted, taking you in. you know he’s already pieced together what’s happened from the voice messages you left on the way over. not that he’s the type to acknowledge it with some grand gesture or comforting words.

he doesn’t say anything, but he steps aside without much ceremony. you slip past him and leave your phone in the foyer, tossing it carelessly on the side table as you pass, the pinging of messages finally fading into the background.

you make your way down the hallway, not even sure where you’re going, but your feet carry you to the living room. rafe follows close behind, his presence looming, but not overbearing. his eyes are trained on you, watching as you take in the dimly lit room. there’s a bottle of whiskey sitting on the coffee table, a glass next to it, already finished. it’s so rafe—quiet, controlled chaos.

you stop, your breath shaky, your chest tight, and before you can hold it back, everything comes spilling out.

“he doesn’t get it, rafe. he just doesn’t fucking get anything,” you start, your voice louder than you intend. you turn to face him, your hands gesturing wildly as you try to make sense of the mess of emotions coursing through you. “i mean, he’s been gone for years, and he comes back, and suddenly he thinks he can just . . . control everything? like he gets to have an opinion about my life after everything he’s done. he doesn't even know me anymore.”

rafes eyes are fixed on you, and he’s listening, letting you get it out. his jaw twitches slightly, but he stays silent, just watching as you unravel in front of him.

“and it’s like . . . it’s like no matter what i do, no matter how hard i try, it’s never enough! not for him, not for john b, not for anyone!” your voice cracks, and you press your palms against your temples, trying to hold yourself together, but the tears are already brimming, threatening to spill over. “i didn’t ask for any of this. i didn’t ask to be stuck in the middle of all this shit with my family and you and . . . god, it’s too much.”

you turn away from him, your breath coming out in shallow gasps now as you try to steady yourself. but it’s no use. you’re falling apart, and it feels like the weight of everything is finally crushing you.

before you can say another word, rafe steps forward, his arms sliding around you in one swift motion. “alright, alright, c’mere,” he murmurs, his voice soft but firm. “c’mon.”

you collapse into him, burying your face into his chest, the tears coming freely now. he holds you tight, his chin resting lightly against the top of your head as his hand rubs slow circles on your back.

rafe’s not one for words, and you don’t expect him to be, but this—this is enough. the steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his arms keep you grounded, it’s enough to make the world stop spinning for just a moment.

you don’t say anything else. neither does he. the silence stretches on, but it’s not uncomfortable. for once, you feel like you can breathe.

even though he’s holding you, his mind seems elsewhere—his jaw clenched, muscles rigid beneath the surface. it’s not hard to guess where his thoughts have drifted, especially after everything you told him in those voice messages.

you can tell he’s upset. not just because you’re upset, but because of what your dad said—about him, about his family. his body is stiff as he holds you, and you know him well enough to see the silent anger simmering just beneath the surface. his eyes aren’t on you; they’re somewhere distant, staring past you as if he’s imagining your father’s words in his head.

“i’m sorry about what he said, rafe,” you whisper into his chest, feeling the way his breathing shifts, more shallow now, controlled. “he said something about sarah and john b, too.”

he doesn’t respond right away, but you feel his hand pause against your back, fingers pressing a little harder. for a moment, it feels like he might pull away, but instead, he just tightens his grip on you. his silence speaks volumes. rafe is the type to internalize everything, to let it fester until it boils over, but you can feel it now—the tension thrumming through his entire body.

“doesn’t matter,” he finally mutters, though you can tell by the way his voice is low, that it does. “it’s nothing i haven’t heard before.”

you pull back slightly, just enough to look up at him, and his eyes flick down to meet yours. they’re darker than usual, clouded with frustration, but he still tries to soften his expression for you.

“he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” you say quietly. “he doesn’t know you.”

for a moment, neither of you speaks. rafe’s hand resumes its slow, steady motion against your back, though the tension hasn’t fully left his body. you can feel the war going on inside him—the part of him that’s angry, defensive, but also the part that’s trying to be here for you, to let go of his own frustration long enough to comfort you.

“fuck him,” rafe mutters after a long silence, his voice barely above a whisper. “he doesn’t get to talk about you like that. or me.”

there’s a dangerous edge to his voice now, but you know it’s not directed at you. he’s angry, not just at your dad, but at the situation—the impossible mess you’ve both found yourselves in, caught between your family and his.

“i don’t care what he thinks,” you murmur, holding onto him tighter. “i’m here with you. that’s all that matters.”

he doesn’t respond, but his hand moves to the back of your neck, his fingers curling gently into your hair as he exhales, long and slow, like he’s finally letting go of whatever was eating at him.

for the first time tonight, the room feels quiet as the two of you stand there, wrapped in each other’s arms.

you’re gazing up into his eyes, searching for something—comfort, understanding, maybe a little reassurance. your hands find their way up his shoulders, one resting gently on his collarbone while the other slides higher, rubbing the area around his ear and jaw.

“you know that i love you,” you murmur, your voice soft but steady, as if the confession can dissolve the tension still hanging in the air.

rafe stares down at you, and in that moment, you can see everything in his eyes. he’s never loved anyone more than he loves you—the way you stood your ground against your own dad tonight, defending yourself and defending him and his family. it’s a vulnerable space, one he doesn’t often let himself occupy, but with you, it feels different.

he nods, pressing his lips together as if trying to hold back a flood of emotion. then, with a sudden urgency, he leans down and kisses you deeply. the taste of whiskey lingers on his lips. it’s a kiss that speaks of everything unspoken.

but just as quickly as it begins, he pulls away and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. you close your eyes into the gesture, feeling the warmth of his lips linger against your skin.

rafe goes back to resting his chin on your head, his breath steady as he holds you close again. you breathe in his familiar scent, a mix of sea salt and something distinctly rafe, and let the silence wrap around you like a comforting blanket.

in this moment, nothing else matters. not the fights, not your dad’s harsh words, not the stupid tangled web of family and expectations.

just you and him, together, holding onto each other for as long as you can.

[unseededtoast]

I'd Wait For You | Spencer Reid x F! Reader

Summary: In which you find that a broken engagement leads you to the love of your life. (Friends to lovers)

Also cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. Link to my masterlist for everything else I’ve posted

wc: 6.9k

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you." 

There is something weird in the air this morning, Spencer feels it the second he wakes up, but is unable to put his finger on what it is. As he goes about his morning routine he continues to ponder what this feeling could be from. He hadn't forgotten to turn in any papers, there is no rush to get to work, there is simply nothing going on that would cause this unsettling feeling that takes residence in his chest. But it persists nonetheless.

His commute to work is no better either, the sense of dread looms over him for no particular reason, and the anxiety causes him to pick at the skin around his nails, a bad habit he had stopped long ago. Spencer doesn't consider himself to be superstitious, but this is all beginning to feel a little foreboding to him. But he tries his best to mask the feeling as he walks through the familiar BAU doors, ready to distract himself with whatever tasks get assigned to him today.

The rest of the team shows up a few minutes later than he did, everyone taking their time to get settled at their desks. They had just returned from a case yesterday, so a day in the office is much appreciated.

The minutes slowly tick by and everyone but Spencer begins working on something, he just can't seem to focus today. Instead of trying to force himself to do work, he decides a cup of coffee might bring some sense of normalcy to the morning.

He picks his favorite mug and makes his coffee just as he usually does, but he takes his time stirring in the sugar, becoming entranced in the swirl within the cup as he stirs and stirs. Emily and JJ's voice outside the break room break his trance and he tosses the stir stick away as they walk in, happily talking about something.

"Did you hear?" Emily asks Spencer with a smile on her face. Spencer's eyebrows crease and he recalls the past few days, trying to remember if she is expecting good news. But he comes up short. With a shake of his head, he glances between the two.

"Hear what?" With his question, JJ turns her phone around to show Spencer a picture. As he realizes what is on her screen, he swears he feels his heart stop beating.

"She got engaged!" JJ exclaims, as if it's the best news she will hear all year. And while it might be the best news for her, it couldn't be worse for Spencer.

"About time too." Emily says, looking at Spencer expectantly. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he nods shortly.

"Yeah." He tears his eyes away from JJ's screen and brushes by the two of them to get out of the room as quickly as possible, forgetting his coffee on the counter.

Spencer swiftly walks through some of the quieter halls in the office until he finds a secluded conference room. With unsteady hands, he closes the door behind him and lets out a breath he didn't realize he was holding. His mind races with a hundred different thoughts at once, all of them revolving around the photo of you with a shiny ring on your finger.

Spencer should be happy for you, he should be over the moon that you had found happiness. But instead all he feels is sick to his stomach and like he had been kicked in the chest. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to keep tears at bay as he vividly remembers the moment he knew he was head over heels for you. It's a bittersweet memory for him, and one he thinks of quite often.

You had been on the team for a few months when Hotch assigned you and Spencer to put together the geographic profile together. You jumped at the opportunity, eager to learn something new, and he was excited to get to know you better. While the two of you worked together, Spencer couldn't help but notice the sweet smell of your perfume and how you nibbled on your lips as you concentrated. He found himself getting sidetracked by you more and more often, and couldn't help the pink flush of his cheeks whenever you glanced his way. It was on the third morning of working together when he realized that he had started to fall for you; the shiver that ran down his spine confirmed it as your hands brushed when you handed him a cup of coffee.

But that was four years ago, and nothing is the same.

As the memory fades, Spencer tries to pull himself together by straightening his tie and taking a few deep breaths. He's sure that Emily and JJ will have questions, but he's hoping they won't pry into the matter. Although he's sure that they've told everyone else how he ran off.

Once he feels like he's not going to cry at the mention of your name, he leaves the empty conference room and goes back to his desk where he has reports waiting for him. It's wishful thinking, but he hopes they offer some distraction from you. His foot taps with each pen stroke across the page, and he does his best to ignore Morgan's eyes staring at him a few feet away.

"You okay?" Morgan doesn't let Spencer ignore him any longer. With a sigh, Spencer puts the pen down and looks to Morgan, who appears to be studying every microexpression on Spencer's face.

"I'm fine." Spencer tries his best to keep his tone even and nonchalant.

"You don't seem fine." Spencer knows that Derek is just trying to be a good friend, and he appreciates that, but he knows he can't talk about what's bothering him here. Not in front of the team, and not in front of curious eavesdroppers. So to deflect the conversation away from what's really bothering him, Spencer gives a halfhearted answer just to be done with it.

"I guess I'm just ready for the weekend." Spencer quickly averts his gaze away from Derek's, his eyes catching the only photograph that resides on his desk.

It was a picture taken four years ago with the whole team, you had asked for a group photo before you left, and Spencer had printed one for himself as well. You were in the middle of the group, one arm wrapped around Spencer while the other wrapped around Emily. A wide, bright smile was on your face, but he knew if he looked hard enough he could see the tears you fought away, the same ones that broke loose immediately after the camera's flash.

Before you left you had admitted to Spencer that you didn't really want to leave, but your boyfriend had received a job offer he couldn't refuse, one that was across the country. Every bit of Spencer wanted to beg you to stay, but he knew how happy your boyfriend made you, and he couldn't bear to see you unhappy. So he swallowed his pride and encouraged you to go, to embrace new opportunities; but he made a point to let you know that you would always be welcomed back with open arms.

The night you left Spencer remembers how he cried for hours, looking at the photo and knowing that he would likely never see you again. He knew he would never be able to forget your smile, your kindness, and all of your quirks that he had fallen in love with over the years. His heart constricted with the thought of another man's hands on you, but he could only blame himself, for he had never found the courage to tell you how he really felt.

-----

Rain splatters on the windshield as you speed down the highway, the wipers trying their hardest to keep your view clear. Your mind had become numb to the inclement weather at this point, having already traveled eighteen hours of the twenty five hour journey; a journey you never thought you'd make. But here you are, driving on an empty highway in the middle of the night, alone.

Mile after mile flies by, your thoughts replaying yesterday's events over and over again like an unhealthy obsession. It had come as a shock, walking into your home to see your fiancé with another woman on his lap. You weren't expected back home for a few more hours, but your boss had let you go early.

You remember vividly how excited you were to come home early for once, to spend time with your fiancé because work had been keeping you busy. But that excitement turned to nausea within a second. She had her arms around his neck, he had his hands on her waist, both of their faces flushed. Of course he tried to tell you it was a misunderstanding.

"It's not what it looked like." He begged you as you zipped up your last suitcase. Without sparing him a glance, you wheeled the luggage to the front door, unusually calm despite the circumstances. Your hand rested on the cold handle and you cleared your throat.

"Don't call me, don't text me. If I left something here I will have my attorney contact you." Is all you said before you left your home of four years. Maintaining composure, you placed the bag in the back of your car and got inside.

As soon as your home disappeared from view in your rearview mirrors, the dam broke. Tears fell quickly down your cheeks, harsh breaths wracked your chest, your hands tightly gripped the steering wheel. You must've cried for hours before the tears dried, your breathing had leveled, and your aching hands eased up on the wheel. Within the blink of an eye, your life had been turned upside down and you had no idea how to pick up the pieces.

You decided to go back to Washington D.C., the one place you really ever considered home, after a few hours of driving East. Truthfully, you have no idea what you're going to do or where you're going to go once you get there, and you only have a few hours to figure it out. But you have blind faith that you'll figure something out, even if it does take a few days.

-----

The next day, you wake in a hotel room, enveloped in pristine white covers. The sun peeks through the heavy curtains, and you rub the sleep from your eyes. Checking your phone, you see dozens of missed calls and unanswered text messages from your now ex-fiancé. It seems he can't follow instructions very well. You ignore his messages and delete his voicemails without listening to them, you have no desire to waste your time listening to his lies.

You scroll through your contact list and block his number, eager to be rid of the man as fast as possible. While scrolling, your thumb lands on a distantly familiar name, and an idea blooms in your mind. Your eyes read over his contact card for a second, Aaron Hotchner, your old boss. You could always call and see if there's any chance the team would take you back. Though it would be humiliating to explain why you had come back, you'd be lying if you said you didn't miss the team who became your family.

The thought of being reunited with them is enough to send Aaron a text before you can talk yourself out of it. It's a simple message, and right to the point. If there's one thing you remember about Hotch, it's how he appreciated conciseness.

Your phone finds its way to the side table as you get out of bed and get ready for the day. You had no plans in particular, and you had the hotel room booked for another week, so there was no immediate rush to get out. Today you would allow yourself to meander aimlessly and tomorrow you would get serious about finding a place to rent.

Halfway through your unplanned day, your phone buzzes in your pocket and your heart drops. There's only one person it could be. Not having the patience or restraint to wait, you pull your phone out immediately and read the text from Aaron.

"Come by the office tomorrow." The message is simple, in true Aaron fashion and a smile breaks out on your face, happy that something is finally starting to look up.

-----

Familiar glass doors are feet away from you, the FBI logo engraved into the glass, they look exactly like you remembered. Your heart thumps in your chest with each footstep towards the door. You hadn't told anyone but Hotch about wanting to come back, but you know when you walk through these doors that all hell is going to break loose. With a deep, calming breath, you open the doors and start towards Hotch's office casually.

But of course, as fate would have it, you don't make it there without being noticed. To your right, you hear a gasp, then another, and then suddenly your name is being called out by your old friends. Turning to face them, it's like everything is starting to click and fall into place. Emily and JJ rush over to you, smiles on their faces, and you can't help but smile as well. You've missed your team dearly.

"I didn't know you were coming!" Emily says as she wraps you in a warm hug, to which you return.

"Yeah, it was kind of unplanned actually." You say, stepping back from her arms. JJ and Emily look at you expectantly, but instead of giving them the answer they're wanting to hear, you take another step back and look to Hotch's office.

"We'll catch up later." JJ smiles, noticing your eagerness to get to Hotch. You nod before turning away. With a light knock, you knuckles make contact with the wooden office door.

"Come in." Hotch's deep voice calls out.

When you enter, he stands with a ghost of a smirk on his face and extends his hand. You return his handshake and take a seat in front of his desk.

"It's good to see you again." He says as he sits back down and you sigh, looking around at the office. Hotch really hasn't changed anything since you've been gone.

"Yeah, it feels good to be here again." You answer truthfully, meeting his eyes.

"I assume this isn't just a visit?" He questions, interlocking his fingers together in front of him.

"Perceptive as always. But you're right. Listen, I haven't told anyone but I am no longer with my fiancé and I was wondering if the team had a vacancy you're looking to fill." You get right to the point and your stomach turns with anxiety. Hotch's eyebrows lift at your words and you can tell he hadn't been expecting those words to come out of your mouth. But after a few moments of contemplation, he finally answers.

"We would be glad to have you back. When can you start?" You blink a few times, trying to process that he had actually welcomed you back and hadn't let you down gently, like you had half been expecting.

"I um, I can start whenever." You say, stumbling over your words with excitement. This time, a noticeable smile adorns Hotch's face.

"How about you get settled back here first, then we can talk about coming back." He says and you agree, knowing that having a stable place to live first is probably the right thing to take care of before diving headfirst into work again.

After catching up with Hotch, he allows you to mingle around the bullpen, where your old friends have been anxiously waiting. You can tell from the look on their faces that they're expecting some sort of explanation, and you can't help yourself but share the news.

"I'm back!" You say with a wide smile. JJ and Emily cheer, Morgan comes and claps you on the back, and even Penelope comes out and talks a million miles a minute about how you need to tell them everything. And while you love being back with your team, you can't help but notice how Spencer lingers in the background.

Spencer and you had grown very close over your years together, and once you had moved away you hadn't really heard from him. It hurt, but you understood and didn't want to pressure him to keep contact. But you really had missed him. You catch his eye from across the room and you smile, knowing that once you're back full time that you will have a lot of time to catch up with him, and you hope that you're able to pick up right where you left off.

----- "Well it looks like you're getting quite the welcome back. Four women went missing in Athens, Tennessee. All four of them were found on the same day in the same manner. They had their arms tied behind their backs and their heads were submerged under water. But the medical examiner does not believe they died by drowning." Penelope briefs the team on the newest case and as she speaks you study the images in front of you.

It's been years since you've worked a case, or really in any law enforcement capacity at all. Once you had moved out west with your ex-fiancé you had decided to take a job as a daycare teacher. It was a nice change of pace for a while, but it makes getting back into the BAU lifestyle that much more difficult. After being surrounded by innocent children for years, you're now being re-immersed in a world full of psychopaths and it feels overwhelming.

You sit back as the team discusses early theories. Once upon a time you would have jumped in with your own thoughts, but you suddenly feel under qualified to be here. It has you second guessing whether this was the right decision or not. But before you can dwell on that for very long, the team is loading the jet and speeding off to Tennessee.

While on the jet, Hotch assigns everyone their duties, and you find yourself being paired with Spencer, just like you usually were. Being paired with him ignites a feeling of excitement within you. You still hadn't been able to catch up with him properly, but you're hoping this could change that.

Everyone keeps to themselves for the majority of the ride, busying themselves with reviewing the case and resting up. Once upon a time, you usually tried to sneak in a nap on the way to a new case, but the nerves creeping around in your veins keep you unable to do so, instead you worry about performing well for the sake of your reputation.

When the plane lands, the team hits the ground running. Some members go to the medical examiner's office, others go to interview the families, while you and Spencer are left to piece together the geographical profile. He's spread a map out on a table and marked where the bodies were found.

You pitch in when you feel comfortable with your findings, such as where the victims were last seen. The beginning of the process is fairly straight forward, it isn't until the deduction part until you start feeling dread and nervousness. Spencer hadn't said a single word directly to you, he's only spoken into the open air and you've responded.

"Well, what if they were all going to the doctor for the same condition?" You pitched in and Spencer hummed in response. And for the first time, he finally acknowledges you directly.

"You might actually be onto something. Let me call Garcia." His words are rushed and he leaves the room as the phone dials. Your heart sinks as he leaves. This isn't like how it used to be at all. No, you and Spencer were always a dynamic duo, but this feels very static and compartmentalized.

Perhaps it's because he's unsure if your abilities are still up to par. Or maybe he's still upset that you left in the first place. You couldn't be sure, but you hoped that this phase would pass soon so that you could have your dear friend back.

-----

You look at the clock with burning eyes, seeing that it's already one in the morning. The rest of the team had left for the motel hours ago, but you and Spencer had stayed at the station, having struck gold with Garcia. Apparently, all of the victims had contracted a very unique disease and so you and Spencer had researched that disease extensively to locate where they could've contracted it from.

So far, there was a very limited list of possibilities. With your mind becoming more fuzzy with exhaustion you know you're not being a very good teammate. Yawning, you break the long-standing silence and stand from your seat.

"I think I'm going to go to the motel, I'm exhausted and I can't comprehend anything I'm reading anymore." You announce, throwing away your empty coffee cup from hours earlier. Spencer caps the marker he's using and straightens his posture.

"Yeah, I'll go with you." He rubs his eyes as he stands, and the two of you walk out of the station together.

The night is warm and you appreciate the night sky as the two of you walk back to the motel. Your brain feels like it's been put through a meat grinder, and the unrelenting nerves double down on your exhaustion. It feels like your feet weigh twenty pounds each and so when you finally reach the motel, it's like seeing an oasis in the desert. Spencer goes in for the keys to your room and to his room and you notice the teams' cars parked in the lot.

"Bad news." Spencer says as he walks back from the lobby.

"What?" Dread fills you and you're not sure how much more you can take before you mentally break and physically collapse.

"They had to rent out one of our rooms, I guess they made a deal with Hotch for a partial refund. So, the two of us are going to be in room B12." He says, swinging the keys from his finger.

"You're kidding." Your voice is monotone. All you had wanted was some space alone, but you can't even be afforded that luxury. Instead of arguing or complaining further though, you just sigh and head towards room B12, where you trust the others have relocated your items.

You hear Spencer follow closely behind you and he unlocks the door once you reach it. Inside, there's one bed and one small armchair. The two of you just stand in the doorway, staring at the inadequate accommodations.

"I can go see if I can get the keys to one of the cars." Exhaustion is thick in your voice and you feel beat down and defeated from the day.

"No, you don't have to do that. I can take one of the cars." Spencer speaks up as you turn to leave and you meet his eyes, tiredness obvious.

"Spencer you're too tall. No, just let me it's okay." You take a step forward, but he catches your upper arm.

"Listen, Hotch needs the sleep, he hasn't been resting well lately. So why don't we just try to figure something out here." He lets go of your arm and closes the door behind him. At this point, you just want to sleep and so you agree.

"Yeah, sure. I'm going to get changed." You say and rub your eyes as you go to rummage around your bag for something comfortable. As you go to the bathroom, you hear Spencer messing with the blankets.

Once the door is closed behind you, you grip the edge of the counter and look in the mirror. Your bloodshot eyes stare back and the anxiety of the day catches up to you with full force. Feelings of inadequacy and disappointment fill you and you worry that you're letting the team down by not being able to solve things faster. Once again you find yourself wondering if coming back was the right decision.

You let go of the counter and change, ready to pass out for a few hours and be dead to the world, hoping that your anxieties don't also infiltrate your dreams. When you exit you see that Spencer has changed as well, and has also constructed a sort of pillow wall in the middle of the bed. You can't help but smile at his efforts.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" You ask, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. After all your years of knowing Spencer, you knew he valued his personal space. He nervously nods and clears his throat as you approach the bed.

"Yeah, it's fine. Are you sure your fiancé isn't going to care?" His words are calculated and from the look on his face you can tell he had been stressing over this for a little while.

Looking down at your finger, you see the glistening ring and you spin it around a few times, remembering what it used to symbolize. You hadn't wanted to tell anyone about the break up just yet, but you know you have to tell Spencer now, or he'll be up all night worrying about the fiancé he thinks you have.

"I um, I don't have a fiancé anymore." Your voice is soft and you hear the vulnerability in it. Unable to meet Spencer's eyes, you just keep staring at the ring.

"But I thought, you're wearing the ring, and JJ said that-" He stumbles over his words and you finally look up to him, seeing him in an almost panicked state.

"We broke up. I left him, actually. I came home and saw another woman on top of him." You admit, fingers leaving the ring as you mention the infidelity. His eyes glance down to the ring before he meets your eyes again.

"I'm sorry I didn't know." He says with exasperation and you shrug but beneath your calm demeanor you feel the repressed sadness and anger within you.

"I wasn't going to tell anyone yet but I didn't want you to worry. But yeah, I left that same night and haven't looked back." You sit on the edge of the bed and Spencer follows suit, the two of you almost shoulder to shoulder and it feels like your friend is coming back to you.

"You didn't deserve that." His voice is kind and soft.

"I know. I just wish I hadn't wasted all that time on him. I wish I hadn't moved away from everyone. I missed you all every single day and for all of it to have been for nothing is just, it's a hard pill to swallow." You tell him, unable to keep your thoughts to yourself for any longer. You feel tears burning the rims of your eyes and for the first time since that day, you allow yourself to feel the emotions you've worked hard to ignore.

"Come here. I've missed you too. We all have. But we're so happy to have you back." Spencer wraps an arm around your shoulder and pulls you into him. He rubs small circles on your back as you sniffle, and you're thankful for him. This feels like the Spencer you know and a familiar comfort overcomes you.

You remember all the cases where he would help you deal with the trauma. After particularly hard cases, he would always remind you that you were welcome to call or drop by anytime, that he would be there any hour. In the mornings he would bring you coffee and he'd ask about your night or weekend. Everything with Spencer was always effortless.

And after a few minutes had passed, you and Spencer get into bed, pillow wall be damned as you link your pinky with his, just to know that he's here with you. That night your fears and anxieties did not follow you into your dreams.

-----

Spencer knows he shouldn't be happy to hear that you left you fiancé. As your friend, he should be upset with you and sympathetic. But instead all he feels is a deep sense of relief.

Since working side by side with you, the shiny ring on your finger had become quite the annoying distraction. Every time it caught the light it served as a reminder that he could never have you. But now, it no longer holds any power over him.

And when you link your pinky with his, an unfamiliar feeling blooms within him. One of hope, one that had long died inside of him when you moved away.

He's happy that you came back and before he falls asleep with you by his side, he promises himself that he will not lose this opportunity. This is his second chance and he will take it when he finds the right time.

-----

Three days later and the case is coming to a close, you can feel it in your bones. You and Spencer had begun working as a duo once again and successfully put together a full geographic profile.

Now, all that's left is to locate the suspect and bring him in for questioning. You and Spencer sit around a table waiting for the others to come back from their field investigations, and you can't help but notice how his hair is curlier than you remember.

Not only is his hair curlier, but you notice how the sun brings out the honey tones in his eyes. His long fingers lock together as he looks over a map, which is what you should be doing as well, but instead find yourself admiring Spencer.

He had grown in the last five years, blossomed into the bright man you knew him to be and he seems more comfortable in his own skin. You're happy he's finding his stride. And you can't deny the newfound confidence looks good on him.

With the realization that your thoughts had taken a turn, you snap yourself back to focus on the task at hand. There's no way you were just checking out Spencer of all people. No way. As quick as they manifested themselves, you repressed them deep within your mind.

Thankfully the others arrive back with good news, they've found the suspect; he was almost exactly in the center of the projected safe zone you and Spencer had established. They don't stay long as they gather the sheriff and some deputies before they go and arrest the man. You're sure that the team has found the right man, and you believe he's going to crack as soon as they put some pressure on him. You and Spencer stay behind to lend technical support if they need it.

Turns out, you were right again. It took all of ten minutes before the suspect confessed. The man who wanted to be seen as confident crumbled into a sobbing mess under Hotch's questions. He was taken to the county jail in cuffs and the team was left to pack up and head back to Quantico. You had forgotten what it felt like, what it really felt like, to solve a case. The feeling sinks in and you remember just how much you've missed this job. 

The jet ride back to Quantico is fairly silent. Everyone has found their own thing to do and while they decompressed you looked out the window. The view from the jet never really got old, you always found some beauty staring out into the clouds. But eventually, your eyes drift from the wispy clouds to Spencer, who has opted to take a nap on the journey home. And once again, you come to appreciate him more so than you ever have for his continued friendship. 

You're happy that you came back, and you look forward to what the future may hold. 

-----

The night is chilly but the sky is clear. You and Spencer walk side by side down a path alongside a river, the two of you stressed about work and thankful to finally have a Friday night to yourselves. Of course, the others all had plans, except for you and Spencer, so you both decided to take a late night walk.

You look up to the sky and admire the stars, seeing some shining brighter than others. You're sure Spencer has a fun fact as to why that is, but you're perfectly happy to just walk beside him in quiet content. It's been a month now since you've been back and you feel like you and Spencer had grown closer than ever before in that short amount of time. 

Your gaze shifts from the stars to him, admiring his side profile and how defined his features are. There's no denying that he's grown into his features nicely, and you can't help but to appreciate his beauty, inside and out. 

Eventually the path leads you to a small stone bridge that arches over the river. Crickets chirp in the distance and the moonlight reflects beautifully off the calm water. Leaning forward on the stones, you take a deep breath of crisp air and close your eyes to appreciate the moment of peace. 

"You're still wearing your ring." Spencer's voice breaks the silence between you. Looking down, you see how the diamond is reflecting the moonlight. It's a beautiful ring, yet you had never been so disgusted with a piece of jewelry. 

"Yeah." You twist the ring around and around on your finger before you take it off.

"Are you going to tell the others? I know they've been asking." He says and you nod slowly. 

"Yeah, I'm going to tell them, I just don't know how to I guess. They're all so happy that I've 'found the one' but, he was the furthest thing from my soulmate. I just don't want them to pity me." You say, meeting his eyes. Spencer leans on the bridge's railing as well, his eyes trained on the ring in front of you. 

"You know you don't owe them anything, right? They'll understand." He encourages, and you know he's right but you can't help but feel anxious about it. 

"I know they will." You say, looking back down to the ring. 

What once used to symbolize loyalty and undying love is now nothing more than a reminder of the time you had wasted and the time you'll never be able to get back. It reminds you of how you bent over backwards to please that man, one who used and took advantage of you. Anger rises within you and in a split second decision, you toss the ring into the river below. 

It sinks to the bottom, out of your sight forevermore. And as it sinks it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders. You feel free, untethered.

"I didn't mean for you to throw it away you probably could've sold it for a good amount of money." Spencer rattles off, obviously flustered that you just threw a thousand dollar ring into the river. But you just shrug, at peace with your decision. 

"It was worthless." You say with conviction. Spencer's lips fall apart and your heart beats faster when you meet his eyes. 

"Come on, it's getting cold out here." You break yourself out of your own thoughts and Spencer nods, offering you his arm. 

You link your arm with his as the two of you walk back to the parking lot and it feels right. Being around Spencer feels effortless and you feel like you can be your true, most authentic self around him without worrying about judgment. His presence makes you feel safe and secure, and as you walk you rest your head on his arm lightly, grateful to have him.

-----

"No I think you put it on backwards." Spencer says, reading the instruction manual again. You take a step back and look at the chair you're trying to assemble and see that he's most definitely correct. 

"I think you're right. Why is building a chair this complicated?" You ask as you sit back down and begin disassembling the part you had just put on. 

It's now been four months since you've been back. In that time you've found an apartment and have decided to finally furnish it. And thanks to Spencer, you don't have to assemble the furniture alone. The two of you had put together a credenza, a bookshelf, a side table, and now are tackling the chairs, which are proving to be more of a challenge than anticipated. 

After another hour, the chairs are finally assembled. Spencer collapses on your couch dramatically as you push the last one in to complete the dining set. Feeling like he deserves some thanks for helping you today, you go to the kitchen and pour him a glass of wine. 

You return to your couch and sit next to him, putting the glass in his hand. He hums in appreciation and takes a sip. Before you partake in your own glass, you go and turn on the fireplace, feeling like it would complete the atmosphere. The amber glow from the flames envelope the two of you in warmth, and you take a long sip of your wine. 

It's not unusual for Spencer to be over at your apartment anymore, he had been coming over pretty consistently since the night you two had taken a walk over the river. It's like something changed that night between the two of you; like throwing the ring was symbolic of more than just unloading past baggage. It's like it allowed you to move on and start anew. 

Lately, you found yourself thinking about Spencer more and more often. When he wasn't around you find yourself missing him. You miss his humor, his comfort, just everything about him. Every time he knocks on your door butterflies erupt in your tummy and you're unable to keep the smile off your face. 

You had denied the feelings for a while, explaining them away as just sentiments of friendship. But eventually, you had come to realize that you had slowly fell in love with your best friend. He makes your days brighter and brings peace to your soul. 

As you sip on your wine, you move closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. There's just something about Spencer that draws you in, almost as if he has his own gravitational pull. Like he's the sun and you're just a planet in his orbit. But you wouldn't have it any other way. Spencer puts an arm around your shoulders and hugs you closer, sending a warm feeling down your spine. If only you could stay like this forever. 

The two of you finish off the wine in a comfortable silence, and it's not too long after that you find your eyelids growing heavy. You burrow yourself closer to Spencer, who adjusts so that you two can comfortably lay on the couch together. The crackling of the fire and Spencer's warmth lulls you close to sleep, and you might have fallen asleep, had it not been for feeling Spencer pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. 

The kiss was quick, gentle, but you know he had meant it. As you lay on him, head on his chest, his arms wrap you up and hug you tight, like he's afraid you'd float away if he let you go. You feel warmness creep up into your cheeks as his hands start rubbing slow circles on your back. It's almost like he wants you to fall asleep on him. 

Before you're pulled into sleep, you look up at him through your lashes, only to be met with his warm, tender gaze already on you. Your lips fall apart as you feel the butterflies take flight in your tummy. Up close and under the soft glow of the fire, you're sure Spencer was actually an angel in human form. You had never seen such delicate beauty before. 

Unable to stop yourself, your hand travels up his torso before it rests on his cheek. Your thumb gently strokes over his cheekbone as the two of you explore each other's eyes. It's unspoken, but you feel as if there's an agreement between the two of you, an acknowledgement of sorts. 

Feeling a surge of confidence, you lean up and press your lips to his. He's warm and soft, and his hands cradle your face as if you were made of glass. Your lips move in perfect tandem, as if you had done this a million times before. 

When your lungs begin to burn, it's only then that you pull away with a heated face and swollen lips. You blink a few times as you gaze into his eyes, seeing his pupils dilated and his lips pinker than they were just a moment earlier. His hands hold your face delicately and he looks at you as if you had personally put all the stars in the sky. 

"You have no idea how long I've waited for you." He whispers before leaning in for another kiss. His words are deliberate and genuine, and you know he's not lying. 

As you break away again, a smile finds its way to your face. Spencer smiles back and it feels like things are falling perfectly into place. You wish you had the ability to bottle this moment up and preserve it. Your heart and soul had never felt such peace than when you're in Spencer's loving arms. 

You lean your forehead against his and close your eyes, knowing with every fiber of your being that Spencer Reid is the man you're going to spend the rest of your days with. 

[htpssgavi]

JUST A PRANK PART THREE

The weeks after that final meeting with Y/N were some of the hardest of my life. I threw myself into football like never before, trying to drown out the pain with exhaustion. But no matter how hard I trained, no matter how many goals I scored, nothing could fill the void she had left behind.

I tried to move on, to focus on my career, but every time I saw her in my mind, with someone else, it was like a dagger to the heart. I wondered what he was like, if he treated her better than I did, if he made her laugh the way I used to. The thought of her being happy with someone else was bittersweet—I wanted her to be happy, but I had always hoped that happiness would be with me.

Days turned into months, and the pain slowly began to dull. It never fully went away, but I learned to live with it, to accept that Y/N was no longer mine. I started spending more time with my teammates, trying to fill the emptiness with friendships and new experiences. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had lost something irreplaceable.

One day, about six months after that meeting, I ran into her by chance. I was walking through the park near the stadium, headphones in, lost in my thoughts, when I saw her sitting on a bench. She was alone, reading a book, and for a moment, I debated whether or not to approach her.

Before I could decide, she looked up and spotted me. Her eyes widened in surprise, but she smiled, a genuine smile that made my heart ache with nostalgia.

“Pablo,” she said, standing up as I walked over. “It’s been a while.”

“Yeah,” I replied, pulling out my headphones. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good,” she said, her smile never wavering. “And you?”

“Better,” I said honestly. “It’s been hard, but I’m getting there.”

She nodded, her eyes softening with understanding. “I’m glad to hear that. I’ve been thinking about you.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised.

She nodded again, a little shyly this time. “I wanted to see how you were doing, but I didn’t know if it would be too painful to reach out.”

I hesitated, then asked the question that had been gnawing at me since our last meeting. “Are you still with him?”

She looked down, then back up at me, her expression unreadable. “No. It didn’t work out. We realized we were better off as friends.”

I wasn’t sure how to feel. Part of me wanted to jump at the chance to win her back, but another part of me knew that rushing things would only lead to more pain. We both needed time to heal, to figure out who we were without each other.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said, meaning it.

She smiled, a little sadly. “It’s okay. I’ve had a lot of time to think, and I realized that I need to focus on myself for a while. But I also realized that I miss you, Pablo.”

My heart skipped a beat. “I miss you too, Y/N. More than you know.”

The months that followed were some of the most challenging of my life, but they were also some of the most rewarding. Y/N and I took things slow, just as she had asked. We started meeting up more often, sometimes for coffee, sometimes for a walk in the park, each time a little less awkward, a little more like the way we used to be.

But it wasn’t easy. There were moments when I could see the doubt in her eyes, moments when I knew she was holding back because of the pain I’d caused. I had to be patient, had to prove to her with every word, every action, that I was serious about winning back her trust.

One night, about six months after we had reconnected, we were walking along the beach, the sun setting in the distance. We had spent the day together, and for the first time in a long while, it felt almost like old times. We were laughing, joking, the tension that had hung between us finally starting to lift.

As we reached the end of the beach, where the sand met the rocks, Y/N suddenly stopped. She turned to me, her eyes searching mine in the fading light.

“Pablo,” she began, her voice soft but steady, “do you really think we can make this work?”

I looked at her, my heart pounding. “I know we can. I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”

She hesitated, then reached out and took my hand, her fingers lacing through mine. “I believe you,” she said quietly. “But I need to know that you’re in this for the long haul. No more pranks, no more games. I need to know that you’ll always be honest with me.”

“I swear,” I said, holding her gaze. “No more games. No more lies. Just us, building something real.”

She smiled then, a real, genuine smile that made my heart soar. “I want that too.”

In that moment, I knew that we had finally turned a corner. It wouldn’t be easy, and we still had a lot of work to do, but we were finally on the same page. We were ready to move forward, together.

Two years later

The church was filled with the soft hum of whispered conversations, the air thick with anticipation. I stood at the altar, my heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and excitement. The past two years had been a journey, full of highs and lows, but they had led us here—our wedding day.

As the music started, signaling Y/N’s arrival, I felt a wave of emotion crash over me. The doors opened, and there she was, walking down the aisle with a smile that took my breath away. She looked stunning, her eyes locked on mine, and in that moment, I knew that every struggle, every tear, had been worth it.

When she reached me, I took her hands in mine, feeling the warmth of her touch. The officiant began to speak, but I barely heard the words. All I could focus on was her—my love, my future, my everything.

We exchanged vows, promising to love and cherish each other for the rest of our lives. When the officiant finally said, “You may kiss the bride,” I didn’t hesitate. I pulled her close, our lips meeting in a kiss that sealed our promise to each other.

As we turned to face our friends and family, who were cheering and clapping, I knew that we had made it. We had overcome the past, rebuilt our trust, and now, we were starting a new chapter together.

As we walked back down the aisle, hand in hand, I couldn’t stop smiling. We had been through so much, but in the end, love had won. And I knew that, whatever the future held, we would face it together.

@spidybaby @gavisfanta @gadriezmannsgirl @pablitogavii @lucy90712

[zayne-li]

Bloom

I do what I want in this fandom ok I write indulgence for myself. SFW.

Length: 1.2k

Pairing: Zayne/trans masc reader

Warnings: none

Other: Fluff, hurt/comfort, reader is a trans man who's been on T for a year

It's a quiet afternoon. A rare one, where Zayne and you both ended up having the same day off for once. Well. So he thought. Neither of you had been able to see much of each other lately, with his long shifts and your own busy schedule as a hunter. And well… You might have asked Xavier to trade a shift with you so that you could spend the day with your sweet boyfriend, but Zayne doesn’t need to know that. 

Anyway, he looks so content right now, like a big happy cat. Both of you are curled up on the couch, his head resting on your thigh while you watch a movie together. Well, you were watching the movie, but your poor sleep deprived Zayne dozed off about 20 minutes in. Your fingers carding through his short, soft hair probably hadn’t helped him stay awake either. Not that you mind. You hum and continue brushing through it almost absently as the credits start to roll, looking down at him as he takes in a sharper inhale, indicating that he’s finally waking up.

 

Zayne sighs, his hand coming up to wipe at his eyes as he yawns and his eyes crack open. Adorable. You give him a second to regain his bearings as he rejoins the waking world, but your fingers continue to pet his hair as he watches the names scroll by on the screen. He frowns and pouts a little as he looks up at you, and there’s something that flashes in his eyes you’re not sure you recognize.

“I slept through the entire movie?” He asks, disgruntled, his voice hoarse with sleep still, and you laugh, the hand in his hair moving to stroke his cheek as he turns onto his back to look up at you more fully.

“Clearly you needed it. It’s okay. You’re cute when you’re sleeping.” You respond, and he looks like he’s about to retort, but instead he yawns and rubs at his face again. 

“It’s been a long week. Month.” Zayne manages once the yawn subsides, and grunts, turning over so he can grab around your middle and press his face into your stomach. His voice becomes muffled now, rumbling against you in a way that’s almost ticklish. “I missed you.”

Your thigh fell asleep a long time ago, but you aren’t about to tell him that. Not when he’s acting so cute it makes you want to squish him like a stress ball. 

“I missed you too.” You shift a little, and his arms just hold on tighter. 

“Was the movie good?” 

“Yeah, it was…” You start, like you’re about to continue, but pause… It ended up being a pretty sad movie, actually. One where the couple at the beginning was so happy together, and throughout the course of the hour and a half, watched them slowly fall apart because one of them changed. They grew apart as they found themselves as individuals, rather than who they had become and remained for each other. It had left you with an odd, bittersweet feeling. The joy of becoming who one was meant to be versus the heartbreak of losing someone you thought would be with you forever. 

“What was it about?” Zayne asks, nuzzling his nose into your belly button, getting under the hem of your shirt and pressing a soft kiss to your hipbone. It makes you shiver a bit. 

Instead of answering the question, you find yourself blurting something else. “Zayne… Are you still attracted to me?” 

That causes him to pause, his lips stopping their gentle kisses on  your warm skin, and he looks up at you entirely bewildered. Your eyes meet for a long moment, and his own bore into you like he’s trying to determine the source of such a sudden and ridiculous question. After all, you’d had sex once already today, before either of you had even gotten out of bed. 

“... Have I done something to make you think otherwise?” He asks after a pregnant pause, and the hand you have resting on his shoulder drifts a little lower on his arm as you look away and shift beneath him.

“No… I just…” The thought of speaking the worry you have out loud is embarrassing, because you know it might sound silly, or maybe just insecure.

Zayne sits up. Propping himself on one of his arms, and you feel a tingle in your leg where he was resting as blood begins to flow properly again. 

“Tell me.” 

You can’t meet his eyes, and he doesn’t force you to, instead waiting patiently. 

“I just mean… I’ve changed a lot the past year, you know?” You’re trying to dance around the subject, but he catches on almost immediately. 

“You have.” Is his simple answer. You can almost hear the gears turning in his head as he tries to work out the puzzle you’ve placed before him. 

“And… I’m going to keep changing.”

“Is that not one of the beautiful things about life? My love, we all change.” Zayne says, and leans a bit closer, his free hand coming up to your cheek. “You’re afraid that the more masculine you become, the less attracted I will be to you.” It might have been a question, but coming from him it’s a statement. 

Your face feels hot, but you lean into his large palm, just nodding, afraid of your own voice at the moment. There are tears that seem to be pricking at the backs of your eyes as you keep them fixed on your own hands in your lap. 

Zayne sighs, and out of the corner of your vision you see him shake his head. 

“Look at me.” He says, and you obey, the lump in your throat growing tighter once you see his earnest expression. 

“I just… I don’t want to lose you because of it.” Your voice is small, and Zayne sighs again, leaning in to press his forehead against your own as he strokes your cheek with a thumb. 

“If you believe that’s even possible, then I’m not sure you truly know me at all. If anything… I love you more than I did before you began this journey. I feel as if I am getting to see you for the first time in my life, and it has been a privilege to be by your side and watch you bloom.”

“Zayne…” You whine, unable to handle the surge of affection in your chest. 

“Your gender makes no difference to me. And it never will. What matters to me…” He continues, determined to quell the anxiety in your chest, and his hand slides down to rest on the beating of your heart, “Is this.” He turns his head, his nose brushing against your cheek, and presses a soft kiss to your lips. “And this.”

You lean into the kiss, reaching up to hold him closer by the back of his neck. “What about when I start growing back hair and a beard?” You ask. What if he doesn’t want that? The person he fell in love with was soft and dainty, and nowhere near who you’re becoming now.

Zayne chuckles. “If those things make you happy, then I will love them too. As long as I get to see your smile.”

[finnydraws]

don't eat that (r.a/reader)

Pairing; Rhett Abbott/Reader

Word count:905

Description: While hiking with Rhett you get to show off your knowledge about the native plants your boyfriend tries to eat

genre(s) slice of life, fluff

warnings: while not explicitly stated, I did write this reader as autistic. While not ALL autistic people are like I've written her, I’ve loosely based her off my own flavor of autism so…. Mention of poisonous plants and their side effects.

Hiking with Rhett was always a trip. Half of the time he packed enough snacks to feed a small village, and the other half you would only get about a quarter way through the hike before he began to complain about being hungry. If it were anyone else asking to go on such a trip Rhett would say no with very little hesitation, but with you looking at him with those eyes he can't help but hide that he's more of a horse rides and working kind of outdoorsy than the willingly walking 5 miles to relook at the cool plants growing around the Abbott ranch kind. Today was an “I'm hungry” day. 

Normally at this point you and Rhett would turn around, make lunch and try again another day, but today had been particularly hard for you and he would hate to see your disappointed look at the thought of turning around. So he came up with a different solution. “Hey baby, you wanna go look for some berries with me?” Wyoming forests were good for berries, many growing rampant and wild and just perfect for the taking. The thought of the tangy taste of the native red currants growing all through the forest already making Rhett's mouth water.

And so began the hunt for Rhett's favorite fruit, which mostly consisted of Rhett bringing you fruits that looked VERY different from the hard red berry he should probably recognize. At this point it was comical just how far off he was at identifying a fruit that his mom had cooked with for the majority of his life. For about forty minutes this back and forth of Rhett asking “are these them?” and you responding with a soft “no baby, it's not” only for him to lose a little hope of ever finding something to eat (which he would have 20 minutes ago if he had just listened to you when he held up some very much edible red chokeberries. But when he heard you say they weren't HIS fruit he stopped listening) went on. Until just when Rhett had fully given up hope, and was about to ask you to head back and get a snack, he spotted them. Hiding in the trees, small, round, some orange, and others red, currants.

He grabs the fruit without thinking. Picking as many ripe red berries as he can carry without crushing them in his calloused hands, and excitedly bringing his haul to you. “Baby look! I found ‘em!” He's so excited he barely even waits to confirm the fruit with you before holding one up to his mouth to take a bite.

“DON’T EAT THAT!” You yell before he can. “Don't forget, bittersweet grows out here too, and they look very similar. But bittersweet berries will kill you so quick, and also painfully” you continue. Rhett drops his horde of berries like they were burning him (which now that you pointed them out he did notice the subtle itching, burning feeling in his hands) “bring me to the plant you got this from please.” and so he did, leading you to a large oak tree, with a thick wood vine creeping its way up the tree. Attached are yellowish green,smooth leaves, and orange capsules split into three sections, opening up into the red berry. “These are bittersweet berries baby… they’re part of the nightshade, or Solanaceae, family. If you eat them it can cause headaches, dizziness, abdominal pain, internal bleeding, slowed blood circulation, paralysis and even death” you try to continue your speech about the deadly plant but the sad look on Rhett's face stops you in your tracks.

He looks so defeated, and hungry. “Can we go back baby, ‘m hungry and i don’ wanna get us killed jus’ cause i wan’ food.” you know you can’t argue with his logic, there are more poisonous plants out here than edible ones, and he’s been so sweet continuing the hike despite him wanting to go home that you give in almost immediately. You follow him home, trailing just behind him and still eying the plants you pass, just in case. And then YOU spot them. A low to the ground shrub, with green palmate leaves, with three bluntly toothed lobes.

And red fruits.

“Baby” you call. Yet nothing in response. You try again, a little louder. “Baby. come here.” he does turn around at that, approaching you and eying the small shrub you’re wildly gesturing to. “RED CURRANTS!” Rhett lights up.

“Really? They ain’ those nightshade plants?” he questions, looking at you hopefully.

“Nope!” you say, popping the p. You stick one of the juicy red berries into your mouth for good effect, before making your shirt into a makeshift basket and picking as many ripe ones as you can. “Let's bring them back and make some jam” but Rhett is more preoccupied with stuffing his face with the berries than gathering any for later. He looks cute like this, hunched over the shrub he looks like when a child is given candy on halloween, worried someone will take the sweet treat from him before he can thoroughly enjoy it. You give him a moment to pick the shrub clean, happy to see him feeling better.  “Come on now love, let's get you some real food.” Rhett stands up, brushes the dirt from his pants and gives you a small smile.

“Let's go home baby.”

[xxshewritesinblacknwhitexx]

Off The Market

Chris Evans x Black Wife!Reader

WARNINGS: tipsy!Chris, mild fluff, flirting, nosy tv interviewer, very mild nudity

AUTHOR’s NOTE: An oldie from my old page, edited and brought over here. Also regardless if my fic has no smut or dark mentions, all of my work is still 18+. This isn’t apart of the Chris x Wife series I was thinking about. Just a stand alone one-shot.

BETA’d: @titty-teetee

Chris Evans was standing dressed in his best on the red carpet for the premiere of the final Avengers movie, rightfully titled, Avengers: Endgame. Tonight was going to be a little bittersweet, as this would be the last time that all six original members of the Avengers would walk the red carpet together. It was finally time for the torch, or in his case, Captain’s shield, to be passed on.

This was also Chris’ very first red carpet appearance since the two of you tied the knot a little over a couple of months ago.

Of course news had been buzzing for weeks about your very secret nuptials. People were questioning if it happened or if it didn’t happen. Paparazzi scrambled for days outside of your home in Los Angeles, trying to get a small glimpse to see if the two of you were wearing your rings. But they’d come up with nothing. Especially, since the two of you had fully relocated to his hometown in Boston.

But your wedding definitely happened, and it was definitely a secret. Your wedding was so secret, in fact, that your small group of guests, who thought they were arriving to celebrate your engagement, got the surprise of a lifetime when you showed up in your beautiful wedding dress, while you and Chris exchanged vows moments later.

Both yourself and Chris, much like most of your relationship and engagement, wanted to keep this to yourselves for a while. You just wanted to enjoy being husband and wife before the press found out and started hounding you with future plans of starting a family, which of course, you and Chris were definitely excited to be practicing. Especially the horndog that was your husband.

The two of you had a date set for when you were going to announce that you had gotten hitched, but that didn’t stop the vultures from their prying.

Chris, who smiled coyly at the flashing photographers, gave a small wave and a curt nod. He was nervous, and his anxiety was on a high level, which he tried to calm with shots of whiskey earlier with his co-stars, Jeremy Renner and Mark Ruffalo. But with every scream of the paparazzi and the surrounding fans, his nerves seemed to grow a little bit more intense.

Chris continued to make his way down the carpet, saying his hellos to his other fellow cast mates, while sharing jokes with his buddies, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan. Luckily, most of the interviewers kept things professional in their questioning, only asking about the film and his future projects. Even asking him to give shout outs to other countries.

His last stop on the interview trail was with Nancy O’Dell from Entertainment Tonight. Now Chris has known Nancy for quite some time, as she’s interviewed him plenty of times in the past, but he also knew she was never too shy to get personal with him. And that scared the living hell out of him.

“Here we have Chris Evans, ladies and gentlemen,” the beautiful, older blonde celebrity anchor announced as Chris stepped up to his spot next to her. They quickly exchanged a casual hug. “How are you feeling tonight? You look amazing.”

Chris cleared his throat, nervously running a hand across his tie. “Thank you. I’m feeling pretty good. How are you?”

“I’m great, thank you.” She smiled, leaning into him. She was also a little too clingy with him at times, you’ve clearly noticed. But that was usually when you weren’t on his arm. Like tonight. “So, Chris, this is it. Final Avengers movie for you all. How did it feel to put that Cap suit back on for the last time?”

“A little tight.” Chris joked, causing Nancy to giggle softly. “No, it was amazing. Being on set with some of my best friends made for such a fun, great experience— a little bittersweet though since it’s the last time a lot of us will be in the same room with each other. But I feel we all did it justice. 10 years is a long time to be doing this, and I’m very proud of what we’ve accomplished in the end.”

“I can definitely see lots of emotions running high with everyone. Especially on this night.” Nancy stated, and Chris nodded in agreement. “Aside from the movie premiere here tonight, I really have to ask: Where is your better half? I’m surprised she’s not here with you tonight.”

Chris chuckled softly, again, running a hand down his tie. “You know, she really wanted to be here, but her schedule is just as crazy as mine. If not more, but, she’s definitely here with me in Spirit.” He gave the nosy news anchor a smile.

Well, wherever she is, we are sending her the best.” Nancy replied, reaching out to throw an arm around Chris’ shoulder. “And speaking of your better half, I feel like there are just a few things we need to get cleared up. Maybe some of those rumors you want to address?”

This time Chris let out a nervous chuckle. He knew exactly where this was headed. “That depends on what rumors you are referring to?”

“Well,” Nancy paused for dramatic effect, “is Chris Evans officially off the market?”

Yep, she went there.

“Oh,” Chris immediately jerked his head back, as he finally started to feel that whiskey warming his system. “Oh,” he repeated over and over.

“I mean, is it true?” Nancy questioned him, desperately trying to see if she could get a glimpse of the wedding ring on his left hand. Of course, it wasn’t there. You made sure of that.

“We’re not doing that.” Chris shook a finger at her, laughing.

“Why not? I know everybody at home,” Nancy pointed to the camera, “would love to know if our favorite superhero, here, finally got his happy ending.”

“Sh,” Chris shushed her, leaning to stroke her microphone. “Sh, sh, shhh.”

“He’s petting my mic.” Nancy, again, turned to the camera, giggling. She knew that she wasn’t going to get her way tonight. “So, is this your way of leaving this one alone?”

Chris looked back up at her and gave a nonchalant shrug. “I mean, you will know when it happens. But we both are happy where we are right now.”

“And that’s all that matters?” Nancy questioned, and Chris just nodded, stuffing his hands back in the pocket of his pants. “Well, we appreciate the honesty, Chris. Good luck tonight.”

“Thank you.” Chris smiled, giving her one last hug and walking away.

The moment Chris was out of the way of the paparazzi, he immediately pulled out his phone from his pocket and sent you a quick text.

dodged that bullet

His phone buzzed only seconds later with your response.

Wifey: I’m guessing you got asked & it was by Nancy wasn’t it?

yep & yep

Wifey: well it’s a good thing I have your ring with me

Chris smiled to himself, adamantly typing on his phone.

Yeah I’m going to need that back

Wifey: you’ll get it back soon

you’ll just have to take it off of me first

Chris’ phone buzzed a third time. But it wasn’t a typed response like he’d been expecting. It was a picture of you. You were currently wearing his platinum, engraved wedding ring on a necklace, secured safely around your neck, dressed in a white lace push-up bra. The barely there material stood out amongst the softness of your gorgeous brown skin.

Chris sucked in a deep breath, staring down at the image in front of him. Goddamn it, he missed the fuck out of you. He quickly started typing again.

Mrs. Evans you’re driving me fucking crazy here

Wifey: well Mr. Evans my husband just abandoned me

what’s a girl to do by herself in this big, empty house

Before Chris started typing again, the three dotted bubble —as if you were still typing— appeared on his screen. Within seconds, another photo of you showed up. This time it was a matching lace thong you were wearing.

Fuck this premiere

I’m getting on a plane

And coming home right now.

Wifey: I’ll be waiting

Chris sighed heavily, stuffing the phone back in his pocket, and immediately tried to find the nearest exit. He needed to get home to you. And he needed to get home now.

[multifandom-simp-page]

Long Time No See

Pairing: Adult!Atreus x Freya’sChild!fem!reader

Word count: 1.8k

Summary/request: based on this request

I’m so honored to fulfill your first request on tumblr! I’m doing alright and I would be delighted to write this for you! And I appreciate you resending your request when my tumblr broke but luckily I was able to get yours! Anyways I hope you love this!

Also so sorry there’s no GIF, my internet won’t load very well unfortunately.

When Atreus decided that he needed to leave to go find the other giants, the goodbye was bittersweet. You knew it was something he had to do but it didn’t make it any less hard to watch him leave. Especially after he and his father had stumbled into you and your mother's forest, you and the boy had grown close. 

When Atreus decided that he needed to leave to go find the other giants, the goodbye was bittersweet. You knew it was something he had to do but it didn’t make it any less hard to watch him leave. Especially after he and his father had stumbled into you and your mother's forest, you and the boy had grown close. 

You hated to admit it but you bore a childish crush on him, that was up until he and his father had killed your prodigal brother Baldur. You silently thanked the valkyries for Kratos’ interference, Baldur had caused your mother so much grief during your time in Midgard. 

You inadvertently winced as you thought of the rift Baldur’s death had caused between you and your mother. You sighed and stood up out of the garden you tended to. When your mother, Freya had vowed vengeance against Kratos and Atreus she left the woods, to do what you could only imagine being prepping herself to fight a god and his godly child. 

You walked out of the small garden you had been trying to nurse back to life since Fimbulwinter ended a few winters ago, you smiled at Chaurli as he stood and allowed you into the house you’d been living in and trying to repair. 

You grimaced as you stirred the cauldron you remembered Atreus coming to you in a panic after Ragnarok, informing you of the extremely poor state that Chaurli had ended up in. You swear you had almost broke down crying when you heard about it, feeling nothing but guilt for leaving him to try and stop your mother on her revenge path for your brother. 

You huffed and stood, brushing your hands off and cleaning up the small messes you had around the living space. Your mother had dedicated herself to aiding Kratos in his adventures through the realms in his son’s place and when she wasn’t doing that she was in Vanaheim or with her Valkyrie sisters, which means that whenever she came into the woods she was more of a visitor than a fellow occupier as she once had been. 

As you finished up the small chores you felt the ground slightly rattle, signaling that Angrboda and Fenrir were here, after Atreus left you and the giantess had become close, you often visiting her in Jotunnheim and her often visiting you in Midgard. 

You opened the door and smiled to see your favorite giant wolf and giantess walking up the path through your woods, a basket in her arms and a smile on her face. You strode down the path to take the basket from her, smelling the flora of Jotunnheim wafting off her person. 

You gave her a warm smile as Fenrir lent down so you could pet his cold nose. “Hello, Angrboda! You’re looking well since the last we met” You chuckled as she picked some paint off her hand and nodded. 

“Yes, sorry about the delay, Fenrir didn’t want to help me with chores so I had to get Jalla up to help me,” She said and you both laughed, walking toward the door to sit down. Fenrir was good at occupying himself outside while you and the Giantess made conversation in the small home you grew up in.

Once you sat the basket down on one of the many surfaces you hurriedly poured some stew you had roasting over the coals since the day before. Sitting at the table with your friend, eating good food, and talking about whatever came to mind was your favorite pass time in recent days. 

And it was always enjoyable with Angrboda, she often had many good stories about happenings in Jotunnheim in your time apart, whether it was something silly Fenrir did or something she found, or more commonly talking about recent murals she had been working on. 

Before you knew it, hours had passed and the sun began to paint colors of pink and orange across the summer sky and you were saying goodbye to Angrboda and Fenrir. You hugged her tightly, your arms wrapped around her midsection as she squeezed you in return. Over the winter’s she had really sprouted up, now at least a head taller than you.

“Bye Angrboda, I better see you and Fen again before the autumn season you hear me?”  You said sternly as you released her from your vice grip and smiled at her. She laughed sheepishly and shrugged. 

“I’ll try, but sometimes things get busy, and with the whole time difference thing, it's easy to lose track of it” She laughed and smiled at you, and you nodded and smiled back to the giantess. 

“I know, be safe on the way back though okay?” You said and reached out to hug Fenrir’s muzzle. He grumbled as you leaned into his thick wiry fur. When you finally let them go, the warm hues of sunset started morphing into cool blues. You hummed as you walked inside, allowing Chaurli to settle for the night. 

You threw another log onto the fire to keep the coals warm throughout the night and stripped yourself of your day gear, before settling into the summer furs you kept on your bed.

-

The next morning you were awoken by the familiar rumbling of ground that you recognized to be the giant realm walking wolf you’d befriended long ago. You tumbled out of bed and felt Chaurli rousing from his slumber as he lifted your house out of the ground. 

You barely managed to throw a frock on before swinging the door open to find the giant wolf laying in front of your house and a familiar auburn haired boy, well man now, standing next to him, playing with the fur on his face. 

Your body moved before you could even think as you sprinted toward your childhood best friend and tackled him in a bone crushing hug. You both lay in the dirt as your arms remained around his body, squeezing him. 

He managed to laugh and asked you to release him when you did he stood and offered a hand to help you out of the dirt as well. When you finally got a good chance to look at him the wind spirits swept the breath from your lungs. 

Over the time he had been gone, he had grown beautifully. He certainly resembled his father in the way he carried himself and the way his shoulders were broad and intimidating, but he was still the Atreus you’d known all that time ago. The goofy smile on his face, the lighthearted aura that surrounded him, the kind look in his eye- Oh thor you were staring. 

You almost didn’t care that you allowed your eyes to take their take and examine his every detail, the wrinkle in his brow, the scars that were both faded and new. Your grin widened as he pulled you suddenly into another hug.

“Gods I missed you” His voice was almost the same as when he left, just a pitch lower and gravelly, as though he had rarely had anything to drink. Your fingers dug into the layered clothing he wore as you leaned deeply into him, tears burned your eyes as you realized how truly you had missed Atreus. 

You laughed and squeezed him once more before releasing him, allowing your hands to slide down his arms and grip his wrists, not quite knowing if this was real yet. His actions mirrored yours as you stared at each other in silence for another few moments. 

You inhaled deeply as you smiled so hard your temples were starting to ache, “You’re really here!” You softly cheered and he chuckled, giving you a half nod. “The Norns have been kind to you Atreus” You spoke mostly to yourself but he laughed again the tips of his ears turning pink. 

“Hey, that's my line! You’re the one who looks like not a season has passed since I left” he spoke softly and gave you a sincere smile, clearly meaning the sentiment.

You barked in laughter and couldn’t help but look at the dirt beneath your feet, gods you were like a teenager again. Your gaze was brought back to his face when he squeezed your forearm, the smile on his face had you basically melting into a puddle beneath you. 

“How long are you staying?” You couldn’t stop yourself from blurting the words out, you didn’t want to get your hopes up, only for him to be whisked away again in a few moons. 

You saw his jaw tense as he looked beside him where Fenrir had rested his head “I don’t know yet, I got back last night and my father really wants me to stay awhile, but-” He inhaled sharply “But, I hope to at least stay for a few moon cycles” He said and gave you a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You exhaled in slight relief, at least you had a bit of time, you didn’t know if your heart could handle him leaving again so soon. You abruptly hugged him again mumbling “I missed you Atreus” into his tunic and you felt his cheek press into your hair had he spoke a soft “I missed you too little witch”. 

You burst into laughter and lightly shoved him, his dad gave you that nickname after their second visit, and Atreus had soon picked it up after then, despite your very vocal disliking of it. 

“Oh shut up archer boy! You know I hate that nickname!” You huffed in mock displeasure as he chuckled. 

“And you know I hate ‘archer boy’ and yet there you go using it” He teased and you rolled your eyes, but felt a smile creep onto your face as you watched him gesture to himself “And besides I'm an archer MAN now!” He said proudly and you snorted at him, rolling your eyes again, but harder this time. 

“Yeah yeah, sure whatever archer boy. How about you come inside and sit down so you can properly tell me about the exciting adventures you’ve gotten into hm?” You offered and started walking to the ajar door of your home. 

Atreus simply scoffed and followed you inside, giving Chaurli a greeting as he walked down into the small cottage you occupied, leaving Fenrir to his own devices. 

Seeing him sit so domestically in the place you made your home after all this time made your stomach twist with butterflies and almost brought you to tears. You had to look away from him as you made breakfast fixings or you figured you might just cry. 

God’s you really missed him. 

-

This was really fun to write, sorry for the kinda half assed ending, I really wanted to just post it after working on it for what feels like forever. I really hope you enjoyed it, have a wonderful day or night.

[ohallthecrushes]

"Need A Little Love"

A/N: Why is this so freaking sad? Well, I was in a mood for a good cry, so I gave myself something to cry about. ;( The song: Need a little love

Summary: Reader is in love with Morpheus and wishes he feels the same. She puts all her feelings to this little love song she sings. And Morpheus hears her.

The night had been slowly crawling into your bedroom through an open window. You were sitting on your bed, holding a guitar. Alone with your thoughts and hopes. Your heart was beating in your chest a melody dedicated to him.

You were hopelessly in love with the Lord of Dreams. You were trying to tell him that on numerous occasions, but could never bring yourself to do that. The fear of rejection stopped you from giving yourself a chance to know if he felt the same about you.

Your thumb ran smoothly across the guitar strings. The vibrations created a sound you were looking for. Even though you were never good at expressing your feelings with words, music always gave you a way to freely speak what was inside your heart.

It was time I figured out what everybody knew Life is lived in black and white if I don't have you

You knew he tolerated you in the Dreaming, liked you perhaps at times. There was evidence, cause sometimes you spent most of the night with him while he was telling you all those wonderful stories he had... But there were also times when he left you on your own as if he almost ignored your presence. You understood when he was busy, but sometimes he wasn't and yet, he couldn't bother to even look at you.

Oh, you can make my head spin all night long By your sweet side, that's the place where I belong

Couldn't find the answer, oh, I lived for ridicule Some girls they made eyes at me, played me for a fool

You couldn't figure what he felt about you. Always so enigmatic and reserved. but you guessed it was ok... Someday you'd tell him what you felt.

Need a little love, I won't say no Need a little love, I won't say no...

In the quiet depths of the Dreaming, Morpheus stood amidst the walls of his palace. The soft glow of moonlight bathed his pale face as he listened to the ethereal melodies that filled the air. Y/N, a mortal with a heart full of love, had struggled to express her feelings to him. And now, she had found her voice in a love song dedicated to him. As the haunting notes reached his ears, Morpheus closed his eyes, allowing the music to weave its way into his essence. The lyrics carried your emotions, your longing, and your vulnerability. So he listened attentively.

Need a little love, I won't say no Need a little love, I won't say no

Need a little love, I won't say no Need a little love, I won't say no to you In that moment, the Lord of Dreams felt a stirring within him, a flicker of something he rarely experienced. It was as if the song had pierced through the walls he had built around his heart, reaching a part of him that had long been dormant.

Found me just a taste of heaven, every day was bliss How can flesh and bone collide and make me feel like this? A bittersweet smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he contemplated the significance of your gesture. He could feel the weight of hope your heart was holding that he, The Lord of dreams, perhaps could love you back...

You could deny this world and I'd agree Now you're out there keeping all your love from me

The song echoed through the Dreaming, resonating with the dreams of countless souls who sought solace in his realm.He knew you loved him truly. His Little Dreamer... Morpheus found himself drawn to you, his footsteps carrying him towards the waking world. He materialized beside you, his presence both comforting and enigmatic.

Need a little love, I won't say no Need a little love, I won't say no... You looked up, surprised to see him here. You didn't realize your song could have reached the Dreaming. Your hand stopped moving. Your eyes filled with nervous anticipation. The words you had struggled to say were now written on your face, waiting to be acknowledged. "Morpheus..." you whispered, you voice barely audible. He reached out, his hand gently cupping your cheek. In that touch, you could feel the depth of his emotions, the complexities of his being and the heartbreaking answer to the longing of your heart. "You have found a way to speak to me," he said proud of you, his voice a low murmur. "In the language of dreams and music. It is a gift." A tear escaped you eye, mingling with a smile. You had hoped for understanding, hoped for connection. "I love you," you confessed, your voice steady and resolute. Hope never dies. Morpheus leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead, a gesture both tender and comforting. "And I, in my own way, cherish you," he replied, his voice almost apologetic.

You closed your eyes, letting this shared moment to sink into the softness of the night. When your eyes fluttered open, Morpheus wasn't there. Your fingers slightly trembled before they brushed the guitar strings again.

Soar on a trip to the stars Never thought I'd slip out of your atmosphere

Your shaky voice, heavy with feelings filled the room and the song continued to play.

Now it's clear if you reappear I'd pray softly and then maybe You could break this spell

[sweethibiscustea82]

can I ask about ur au? :33

of course!! All under the cut and stuff, all of this is just bits and pieces of stuff because there’s not a super clear like outline of events and stuff but here’s some basic thoughts and ideas and stuff lol. Uh warning its very long, very rambley and kind of just jumps from one thought to another sorry 😭

Okay so basically this isn’t a very nice au to Steven sadly (I do it out of love for the character 💗💗), when I first got back into Steven universe I kept rewatching the diamond days episodes and I really enjoyed them. So basically this au is called diamond years, where Steven ends up staying for a very long time (about I wanna say year and a half) on home world pretending to be pink diamond so that he can change the diamonds ways.

This takes a while though, he’s failed again and again at trying to talk to white, so end he focuses on trying to change blue and yellow’s minds first, on not hurting defenceless planets and trying to stand up to white (they never take him up on standing up to white until about the last year). At first he is completely put off and ignored just like in the show but the longer he stays there the more they begin to listen to him. But despite how well Steven is doing at changing homeworld from the inside, it’s been taking a toll on him.

He finds himself questioning his identity more than ever before, and it really stresses him out. He also feels bad for bringing the gems into this plan with him, he feels like he’s forced them back into their homeworld lives and it makes him feel horribly guilty a lot of the time. In my head it’s like all of this fighting in the rebellion just to end back up here serving diamonds and it sort of starts to make Steven feel like a disgusting person. Like pearl doesn’t belong to him and amethyst shouldn’t have to wear limb inhancers but like whenever he like debates it with blue or yellow they chastise him.

I think eventually he’s permitted to go visit beach city, as a gift for his good behaviour since he came back and it makes him so happy that he finally gets to be Steven again, but whenever he’s there the moments are sort of bittersweet because he knows that if he messes up at all on homeworld, he might lose getting to see his friends on earth. So he throws himself even more into the pink diamond role.

When the first year finally passes and he’s made a significant amount of progress (not enough in his mind) he’s never Steven in public. Only when no one else but his family is around does he consider himself actually Steven, yellow got on him about his pearl calling him Steven still after a year of being on home world officially. They offer to help like recondition her but he refuse’s absolutely. So now pearl calls him pink in public, which sets it in stone in his mind that oh right now I’m not Steven.

When Steven turns 16, is when he not only updates his pink diamond outfit to something newer and slightly different, but his eyes look like pinks and it doesn’t go away even after he stops living on homeworld. Pearl is the first one to notice it and tell him and he’s horrified. The next days when some of the other gems starts to see his eyes, he can tell they’re a little shocked, a little uncomfortable. None of them bring it up besides amethyst who’s like woah cool eyes Steven cause she’s trying to be jokey. It doesn’t work but he laughs.

All this time he’s seen white maybe a dozen times and she’s barely even talked to him. He’s making changes, blue and yellow are more merciful but it’s still not enough. So around the end of the second year blue and yellow finally actually help him go confront white, and he has relief all of this all of this horrible pain and issues and pink diamond stuff wasn’t for nothing and so when they go confront her it starts the yk white diamond confrontation in the show except she’s like oh starlight you’ve been doing so good, why did you have to mess it up now. And this is the first time in so long that he’s protested about being pink, he’s Steven and he gets punished for it with white pulling his gem out to prove that pinks still there and that he isn’t.

It plays out mostly the same as the actual show except what happened in like the third episode of the diamond days arc, happened 2 years after the first episode of the diamond days arc lol.

And so now after that huge fight stuff he’s free, he’s Steven. But he still has the lingering feelings of being pink for so long. When he steps into his house for the first time he doesn’t even know what to do really. He hasn’t seen some of his favourite foods besides the things Connie sneaks in for him, he hasn’t watched tv in so long. he hasn’t seen almost all of his friends on earth. They all celebrate him coming back, he’s fixed everything but why does he still feel so just empty, like he’s living someone else’s life. It’s horrible, that’s how he felt when he first had to act like pink and now he feels like that for his own life.

His friends tell him he doesn’t have to act so formal around them when they’re out in public. People don’t greet him by saluting their diamond. And he doesn’t miss it at all, he’s happy that he’s finally home but it takes so long for him to get used to being himself again.

Anyways sorry for like dumping a pile of random thoughts on you lol, I hope you find it good. I don’t know how good the ideas are at all, it just started from my fascination with characters pretending to be someone and then the lines blurring between them and the person they’re impersonating

oh and uh here’s an official reference for DY!Steven

[miyasi]

genre: comfort-hurt, angst, one sided love

pairing: Seok Matthew x gn! reader

word count: 400+

note: I took too long on my smau and another fic going on so I took a break and wrote this at 2 am lol

“Matthew? What are you doing here?” You opened the door and Matthew suddenly collapsed on your shoulder, his bag falling from his shoulder to the floor and burrowing his face in to your body. He didn’t even bother to take off his snow jacket. You knew what this meant. He’s been trying to confess to his crush for years, secretly admiring them and always ranting to you about it. Honestly, you didn’t mind it at all maybe just a little. Of course, you listened and tried to help your friend and today was the day, the first snow of the year.

He started crying, and you only knew cause he didn’t spoke at all. Matthew wasn’t ever a loud cryer, he only shed long streams of tears and hiccups when he tried answering your questions when you first were friends. Even so, seeing him sad made you sad.

You threw your arms around him, dragged him down to the floor. Both of you were sitting in the hallway, your back layed against the wall. He wrapped his legs around your waist, his arms by your neck.

“A little more-” He hiccuped and dug in to your body, hugging you even tighter and your shirt getting soaked with his tears. You looked outside, seeing a pour of snow from the sky and the breeze flowing in your doors and windows. You couldn’t imagine how terrible Matthew must have felt getting rejected under this bittersweet weather.

You knew not to be happy since Matthew was in so much pain, but you can’t help but feel relieved.

You have a chance.

Maybe it was your turn this time.

“I shouldn’t have confessed-“ He hiccuped again, laying his face of your shoulder. Matthew hasn’t stopped crying immediately, he was still hiccuping but his tears stopped for a while. You softly caressed his hair, hoping he would feel better.

“You did great, people are missing out on such a great person like you.” He ever so slightly smiled, digging his face in to your shoulder again.

“I love you.” Your heart stopped. You knew it meant nothing, just a way to show appreciation. He smiled, sadly but ever so sweet and soft looking.

“I love you too.” You replied.

It wasn’t in the same way as he meant it. After all you were just his friend, someone to be there for him, to look after him from behind. But your words are genuine, there is nothing in the world that can compare to your love for him.

You sighed.

Maybe it wasn’t your turn.

You didn’t need a chance.

As long as you were there when he needed someone, that was good enough for you.

You can always love him in a different way as he loved you.

thanks for reading<3

[spectralarchers]

Ghost is stopped by a mother and her young boy on the street because the boy liked Ghost's skull mask.

(614 words)

bittersweet ending ♥

___

"He's scary."

Ghost looks down and to the side from where he stands and sees a small boy half-hiding behind his mother, half holding onto the legs of her pants. He's staring while the mother looks horrified back at Ghost.

"I am /so/ sorry," she hurries to say as she awkwardly smiles at him. "He's been talking about you since you paid, he liked your skull face-mask a lot," she explains, as the child scoots a little bit further back, face now barely visible behind her legs.

Ghost smiles under the mask, forcing it slightly, trying to make eye contact with the kid as he turns to face them, as he slacks his shoulders a little bit to appear less tall than he is.

"Don't worry, it's okay, it's not the first time," he says to her.

She looks between him and her child as Ghost goes down to one knee on the pavement, putting down the bag of groceries he's been carrying in one hand by his side. As he does so, he reaches into the pocket of his vest and pulls out a zip lock bag.

"They're a bit too big, I think, but I've got some spare ones, if you want one," he says, opening the back with his thumb and index, and pulling out a clean and unused mask from it.

"Oh, you really don't have to do that-" she starts, only to be interrupted by the boy.

He's taken a step towards Ghost, his chin down on his chest, eyes looking up, like he doesn't dare make entirely eye-contact with Ghost, but too enticed by the idea of a skull mask.

"Here, you can take it," Ghost says, putting out his arm and hand towards the kid.

"Skulls are cool," the kid says then, and Ghost laughs, a chuckle rumbling in his chest.

"Yeah, they are. That's why I wear them," he responds and the kid's chin lifts slightly, his eyes going from the mask to Ghost's eyes and back.

"You're scary," the kid says then, and Ghost nods, his knee touching the ground to steady his own body weight as he stays at the kid's height.

"It's only an act," he adds, and the kid comes closer, as the mother trails half a step behind.

"If I look scary, then the scary people won't come and find me. It's why I wear this," he continues, as the kid's little hand goes up to take the mask from his.

As soon as the mask has changed hands, the child is back behind his mother, almost falling over his feet in the rush.

"You sure it's okay?" she asks, as Ghost stands up again, one hand out to indicate it's fine, as the other picks up the groceries again.

"It's fine, I've got plenty," he replies, folding the zip lock back into the pocket again.

"Thank you," she says then.

"Say thank you, to the man, Tommy."

Ghost's breath leaves his lungs and his heart misses a beat as the little boy steps forward and says a polite "Thank you Sir," his small hands wrangling the mask into a ball.

"Have a good day, and thank you again," she adds, unaware of the reaction she's just caused in Ghost. He stands there, watching them leave, groceries feeling heavier than they were before. The boy chatters back at his mother, and Ghost sighs.

He watches them until they've left, turned behind a corner up another street, and then looks back towards where he was walking himself.

At least one child will wear a skull mask without being terrified of it now. But why did the kid have to be called Tommy?

[hinatastinygiant]

4 | The Weight of Lost Souls

Pairing: Todoroki x Fem!Reader

Until the End Masterlist

As the sun begins to rise the next morning, your group gathers their belongings and prepares to embark on another day of survival. While you zip up your bag, the new member approaches you, his intense gaze fixed on you.

"Hey, Y/N," he calls out curiously. "Where are we headed today? You're the one in charge, right?"

You hesitate for a moment, feeling a sense of responsibility weighing on your shoulder. "Well, it's not just me. All of us have a say here. We make decisions together. But, uh, Todoroki has more of the leadership role."

He raises an eyebrow, a skeptical expression on his face. "Really? And where does the group say we're going?"

"Aren't you going to introduce yourself first," you shake your head at him. "I mean, you've been here all night and you still haven't even said your name."

His eyes meet yours and he lets out a chuckle. "It's Bakugou Katsuki. Remember it well, 'cause I bet you'll be screaming it when I save your ass again."

You can't help but laugh at his brash confidence, finding his cocky demeanor oddly endearing. "Bakugou Katsuki, huh?  Thanks for having my back out there yesterday."

He shrugs nonchalantly, a hint of a blush dusting his cheeks. "Don't get too used to it. I just hate the idea of anyone else touching my stuff."

You raise an eyebrow, playfully challenging him. "Oh, am I considered your stuff now? I didn't know misogyny was still a thing post-apocalypse."

"What? No, I wasn't talking about you. That jackass stole my knife," he scoffs. "Now can we get back to what we were talking about?"

You roll your eyes, masking the flutter in your heart with a playful scoff. "Sure, whatever. Anyway, I'm pretty sure that we're going to start actively searching for other survivors. There are bound to be people out there who need help. We can split into smaller groups and cover more ground."

Todoroki watches you closely as he approaches the two of you. "That sounds like a good plan," he chimes in. "Why don't the two of you work together? I'll let the others know. Then let's meet back here at the end of the day to share what we found and regroup."

"Sounds like a solid plan," Bakugou nods in agreement.

"Stay alert and be prepared for anything," Todoroki looks at you intently before turning to walk off.

Bakugou crosses his arms, a slight smirk forming on his lips. "Alright, Y/N, let's see if we can find someone who can handle your bossiness."

You chuckle at Bakugou's remark. "God, you're such an asshole. Come on, already. Let's go."

As the group disperses, you and Bakugou set off together, stepping into the unknown with determination. 

After a long walk, you and Bakugou take a moment to stop and catch your breath. You lean against a crumbling wall, your gaze fixed on the horizon, ignoring the desolate landscape as best you can. But after a moment of silence, you turn to Bakugou and say, "You know, Bakugou, before all of this happened, I had a different life. I was studying comp sci, working on my programming projects, and dreaming of a whole different future for myself."

"Why are you telling me this?" he asks, but you ignore him.

"It's crazy to believe that'll never happen now. It's all rather meaningless. It makes me wonder what the point of it all was."

Bakugou's eyes meet yours, his expression surprisingly attentive. "What made you choose computer science?" he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his voice.

You take a deep breath, a hint of nostalgia in your tone. "I've always loved the idea of creating something out of nothing. The power of coding to shape the digital world fascinated me. It was a way to leave my mark, to make a difference."

Bakugou nods, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. "Sounds like you had some big plans."

You chuckle softly, the weight of your past mingling with a bittersweet longing. "Yeah, I did. But now, everything feels so uncertain. It's like we're all starting from scratch, trying to rebuild what's left."

Bakugou's gaze lingers on you, his usual fiery demeanor softening. "I'm sure we'll figure it out."

You shift your gaze back to Bakugou, curiosity piqued. "What about you, Bakugou? What were you doing before all of this?"

He hesitates for a moment, his brows furrowing as if he's searching for the right words. "Ah, you know, nothing special," he replies nonchalantly, a touch of defensiveness in his voice. "I was just... doing odd jobs here and there. Nothing worth mentioning."

You raise an eyebrow, sensing that there's more to his story than meets the eye. "Come on, Bakugou, I've shared mine. You can't leave me hanging like that. I'm sure you have some interesting experiences."

He grumbles under his breath, clearly uncomfortable with the topic. "Fine, fine. I guess I can spill a bit. Before all this mess, I was... a janitor. Yeah, that's right. I spent my days scrubbing floors and taking out the trash. Glamorous, I know."

You can't help but chuckle at his attempt to downplay his past. "A janitor, huh? Well, someone had to keep the place clean. I bet you were the most badass janitor out there."

Bakugou smirks, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Damn right I was. No stain stood a chance against me."

You shake your head, unable to suppress a smile. Despite his rough exterior, there's a certain charm to Bakugou's honesty, even if it's laced with a hint of deception. 

After your conversation, you and Bakugou continue on your journey. It takes hours, but finally the two of you come across a small community nestled amongst the ruins where makeshift shelters dot the area. Smoke rises lazily from cooking fires, mingling with the scent of earth and decay.

As you step into the community, you can feel the gazes of the survivors upon you, curiosity and caution blending in their eyes. They've grown wary of outsiders, their experiences shaping a sense of mistrust.

A man your age with tired eyes approaches cautiously, his voice tinged with wariness. "Who are you? What do you want?"

You raise your hands in a gesture of peace, a warm smile on your lips. "We're just survivors like you, looking to offer help and find others in need. We've come a long way."

Bakugou's presence, brimming with his signature confidence, seems to catch the man's attention. He narrows his eyes, sizing up the explosive blonde at your side. "And what makes you worthy of our trust?"

Bakugou's voice is sharp and direct. "I'm Bakugou. I can handle myself in a fight, and I'm damn good at protecting people."

The man's expression softens, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Bakugou? That name sounds a bit familiar..." He glanced at you, his gaze now more curious than skeptical. "And what about you?"

You offer him a warm smile, trying to alleviate the tension. "I'm Y/N. I can help with repairs, provide medical aid, and offer support to those in need."

The man sighs, the weariness evident in his voice. "We've been let down before, you should know, by outsiders who promised help but only brought trouble." He then studies both of you, his eyes lingering on Bakugou. "But we're willing to give you a chance. My name is Midoriya should you need anything from me at all."

You nod appreciatively. "Thank you, Midoriya. We understand your caution, and we'll do our best to prove ourselves."

As you made your way towards the gathering area, Midoriya turns to Bakugou. "You seem capable, Bakugou. We could use your strength to defend our community."

Bakugou smirked, his ego momentarily inflating. "Damn right you can!"

The conversation then continues as Midoriya introduces you to other survivors and explains the community's pressing needs. The two of you listen attentively while onlookers watch, some showing signs of cautious hope.

"We need food, clean water, and medical supplies," Midoriya tells you, his voice tinged with desperation. "But we also need to find more survivors. We can't survive in isolation."

You then speak up. "That's where we'll start then. We can gather what supplies we can find. Let's meet back here in an hour and share any information we've gathered."

Bakugou nods, his agreement clear. "We'll go together. I'll watch your back, Y/N."

As the day draws to a close, you and Bakugou return to the meeting point. Midoriya and a small group of survivors stand waiting, their expressions a mix of weariness and hope.

You approach Midoriya with a warm smile. "Midoriya, we've been thinking. Since we're stronger together, and it's clear that we share a common goal, would you and your group consider joining us? We have a shelter, supplies, and a community of survivors who are willing to help."

Midoriya's eyes widen in surprise, a glimmer of hope dancing in them. "You would do that? Take us in?"

You nod, your voice firm. "Absolutely. We've seen the importance of unity and supporting one another. Together, we can increase our chances of survival and make a real difference."

Midoriya glances around at his group, silently conveying the offer. They exchange hesitant glances, murmuring among themselves. Finally, Midoriya turns back to you, his resolve evident. "We accept your offer. Thank you, Y/N."

As you prepare to embark on the journey back to your shelter, you can't help but feel a sense of renewed hope. The addition of Midoriya and his group brings fresh perspectives, skills, and resources that would bolster your collective survival chances.

Until the End Masterlist

[gednerbedner]

2am rant time. Sorry if it doesn't really make sense.

I don't like to wear my skirts as much as I used to, and it's bugging me.

I was a tomboy for a long time growing up. Shirts and jeans. Didn't get my ears pierced until I was 15 cause I was scared it would hurt. Never liked makeup cause it felt weird going on, and I was scared my eyes would get poked, and lipstick is sticky and horrible, and oh gods don't get me started on washing the makeup off afterwards.

And then I got a little older. It was junior year of high school and covid before I actually got into that stuff. I realized I liked edgy plaid skirts. Makeup can be fun when you actually learn to do it right. I feel more confident if I have eyeliner.

But then, the past year or so. I'd been doing makeup consistently for about three-quarters of my first term at college, but then it got cold. The eczema kicked in in ways I'd never seen before, and I had to stop doing so much makeup. I even got a pretty bad eye infection from pushing it too hard. Luckily I've learned how to handle it for this year, but I still have to be careful to stay on top of my routine and not to overdo the makeup.

Then the clothes. I still liked my skirts, but I got my hands on a flannel and started feeling more butch in it. And sometimes I'd tuck my hair in it, and it would look shorter, and I'd kind of like that. And I started feeling less like wearing my skirts.

I think it was winter break that it started it really started to hit me. I started wearing a lot more jeans and shorts. I started really thinking about it, though I was too scared to say anything.

Fast-forward to now. (On a side note I'm considering reposting a couple of my Gender™️ posts from my old diary account on here, since I don't really use that one anymore. They're not really relevant to now though.) I've more or less settled on calling myself genderfluid, if only to one or two people. I'm like half-out to a handful of my friends, I'm out to my girlfriend, but that's it. And most of the time, that's fine. I wear what I'm comfortable in, and it doesn't usually bother me too much.

But I have started to realize that what I'm comfortable in, and what motivates me to do the laundry when I have to wear it, have changed. I really only wear my skirts for parties or for character performances. And that's a little bittersweet to me.

I know that guys can wear skirts as much as girls can wear pants, and that I'm in a very queer space right now anyways and I shouldn't worry about it. But it feels bad when I try to on a day I'm not feeling it. I do my laundry a lot more frequently, so that I don't have to wear my skirts. And it's confusing to me, because they were very much a good thing for me a couple of years ago. Starting to wear them was when I started actually feeling pretty.

I think it's worse because I really don't want to do much actual transitioning. My name is pretty neutral, so while I have a couple of nicknames and my name I use online, I'm probably not changing it any time soon. I like my body parts, so I'm not looking for any kind of surgery. And I hate both sweat and body hair way too much to actually want testosterone. About the biggest change I've really considered beyond some pronoun adjustments and getting a binder is cutting my hair. And I have family who I'm dependent on who would have a shit fit if I did, so that one is going to have to wait a while.

But with me not wanting to do a lot of "transition"-y things, I think it makes the little things that would normally slot into the grey areas of my gender feel harder to ignore. My skirts feel girly, and I don't want to feel girly most of the time right now. And yet, I still miss them. I remember feeling really cute in them for a couple of years, and in a way, I think they were the first thing I really enjoyed that was heavily gendered. My first source of gender euphoria now feels almost dysphoric. It's confusing, and frustrating.

I'm not sure exactly where I'm going with this. But yeah. As much as I'm happy to be feeling out the more masc sides of my gender and getting comfy there, I miss when I enjoyed my skirts.

[fallen-gravity]

I'm trying to make a playlist. What are some songs that you think have Huntlow vibes in them?

oooh, what a coincidence, I was recently thinking about huntlow playlists too! I haven't started one myself, but there have definitely been a few songs here and there that have reminded me of them that got me wondering about other songs out there with similar vibes. Here's a small snippet of what I'm thinking:

but you wouldn’t know good for you if it looked you in the face, promised you forever baby, i’m good for you

what’s it gonna take to see there’s nothing better? even if the stars spelled out my name with yours you wouldn’t know it

this is the only one I think will need further explanation, but I have this headcanon that while Hunter has feelings for Willow, and Willow has feelings for Hunter in return, Hunter feels like he doesn't deserve that kind of love. He's too much of a screwup, he's done too many wrongdoings, there's so much things wrong with him that he can't imagine that he even deserves a loving relationship. To me, this song is Willow speaking to him, saying, can't you see? can't you see how much I love you?? can't you see that I see all of your flaws and your trauma and that I still love you?? it's a very bittersweet thing, convincing someone who believes themself to be unlovable that you're right there, already loving them.

This pain, these problems You know they're not forever My love, my sweetheart We're on to better weather

It can't rain forever Some days it will pour Love is the best umbrella It can't rain forever

Gotta take the time you need Clean up the mess and make it neat Get your head right just believe It all gets better if you lean on me

Don't remind me That some days I'm the windshield And other days I'm just a lucky bug These cold iron rails Leave old mossy trails Through the countryside The crow and the beanfield Are my best friends, but boy I need a hug

'Cause my heart stops without you There's something about you That makes me feel alive

If the green left the grass on the other side I would make like a tree and leave But if I reached for your hand, would your eyes get wide Who knew the other side could be so green

basically: love songs where one party feels underserving, or songs about first loves where one or both people involved can't believe how soft and kind and well, loving this feeling is, because they've experienced so little of it in the past. I really hope these help, and if you ever feel comfortable enough to come off anon, I'd love to see how it's coming along!!

[snow-system-wol]

S'ria isn't exactly ready to retire quite yet -- and life goes on, even if it scares G'raha. That doesn't mean he can't try to keep S'ria as safe as possible, though.

Ao3

It took months before S'ria was cleared to do so much as pick up his daggers from where he'd left them gathering dust. It said something about S'ria, or perhaps about the situation, that G'raha had never needed to argue about this. Another time, S'ria would have maybe protested, tried to overdo it anyway – but not this time.

At least G'raha did not feel immediately worried about that reaction – he was far more glad than anything else. S'ria did not willingly place combat aside with the air of someone giving in to despair and depression. No, it was much more so the actions of someone who felt trying to be gentle with his body and considering his own limitations were finally worthy endeavors.

G'raha was there when he first tried to use weapons again – of course, in case he did anything that caused injury, yes, but also to be supportive.

Watching S'ria pick up his daggers sent a bolt of fear through G'raha's heart that he did his best to dismiss. It wasn't as though S'ria was simply going to… settle down and never fight again. G'raha wasn't ready for that either – there was so much of the world to see. Perhaps, some day, they would quietly live out the rest of their lives somewhere… but not yet.

S'ria had… struggled, that first day – unsteady on his bad leg, weak and uncoordinated with his weapons. He was frustrated nearly to tears, and G'raha was glad they had decided that S'ria first try with a dummy, as opposed to sparring, for his own safety. Still, it was obvious that trying to move the way he was used to was uncomfortable at best, and painful at worst.

G'raha sat by S'ria while he recovered during breaks, hands twitching with anxious sparks of magic, and S'ria just sadly shook his head – it wouldn't help to try to heal something that had already mostly done so.

He'd been given a knee brace, and that did something for pain and stability, but the rest was just up to him. 

It was obvious S'ria was frustrated by his own limitations, by how blatantly easy G'raha went on him as they moved into light sparring. Slowly he improved, as he found ways to compensate for being less easily agile. It was an odd thing to try to be careful for – sprinting a few yalms was mostly painless, but stopping suddenly or pivoting his footing hurt. When he did too much, the ache in his ribs worsened, but the most important part was that he could breathe.

Another development that put G'raha's heart somewhat more at ease was S'ria's inspired idea to somewhat return to his Limsa roots. Newly holstered at S'ria's hip was a modified flintlock pistol – lovingly retrofitted to a modern cartridge design. While it was not used during sparring with living partners, it proved a useful addition to S'ria's arsenal – something that could both be fired point-blank if he got cornered and couldn't dodge, and that could work across the battlefield if his mobility flagged during a fight. 

That was the best they had for now –S'ria, struggling to get back to a functional form, and now with the addition of an entire gun for safety. 

 ----------

It was with a tinge of bittersweet feelings that he watched S'ria get back to a point where fighting was fully manageable – he did not wish to see S'ria's injuries take him permanently off the battlefield, but he would also be fine if S'ria never had need to fight so intensely again.

Being able to defend himself was good, if they traveled together then they could have each other's backs – but that wasn't how it would be, surely someone would end up asking S'ria to do something lethal once they realized he was available for use again.

G'raha had expected it to be another Scion out of desperation, or a city leader demanding S'ria's assistance as he bitterly recalled them doing so often – he did not expect it to be someone here.

When S'ria was called down into Labyrinthos to take a look at something, G'raha had not thought anything particularly odd about it. S'ria's work with the Students of Baldesion led him to meet with researchers frequently.

It was only when S'ria came back to their room with a guilty expression on his face that G'raha realized it had not been anything so simple.

G'raha's first thought, to be frank, was how dare they?

The people of Sharlayan should know better – they'd seen the months of S'ria clinging to him, winded and in pain and barely able to support his own weight. And those that worked in or near Thaumazein should know better than most.

They'd been clustered about when the ship had landed, had been all but shoved out of the way while rushing to get S'ria medically stabilized. S'ria had at least briefly woken on the ship, but remained ilms from death – a fact that would have surely been obvious to anyone watching them panic or catching a glimpse of S'ria himself. 

“Back to Elpis? Ria, that is the one place where none of us can accompany you.”

“I – I know. But this is important. What if our newly saved world is destroyed by this?”

G'raha frowned. “Or… what if that is the wrong way ‘round? We are still alive in this time – mayhap this timeline is the one where you simply let it be. Mayhap –”.

“Raha.” S'ria sighed and let his shoulders relax. “We both know that you wouldn't be making this argument if not for you wanting me to refuse. Also – I can prove you wrong. Elidibus met me in Elpis, in this timeline, and that hasn't happened yet. I need to go back.” S'ria squinted. “Or, I already have, I mean.”

“You've… you have hardly even practiced against living foes that mean you harm, are you truly ready for this?” G'raha lowered his head, face no longer visible from S'ria's view. “Please, I do not –”.

He fell silent, at a loss for words. Yes, he could beg S'ria to stay, but that would not accomplish anything – only delay the inevitable and hold S'ria back, something that there would surely be resentment over.

But that didn't mean it was fair – S'ria deserved more time, and G'raha could not bear the thought of –.

G'raha stood on shaky legs. “I am not angry with you, but – I need some time, some fresh air. Please… do not leave before I return.”

“I'm sorry.” S'ria offered him a smile that was equal parts strained and reassuring. “I don't intend to leave today at all, don't worry.”

He leaned down to kiss the top of S'ria's head. “We are alright, I merely need to be alone for a bell or few.”

G'raha felt more than saw the tension drop from S'ria's body.

“I'll be here.”

 ----------

S'ria couldn't help but flutter about their room nervously. He knew why G'raha had not taken this well – but they also both knew that these quiet days would not last forever. It still felt unpleasant, though, for the task he must complete to also be one that upset his partner greatly.

It wasn't even placing the greater good over G'raha – if the world chanced to end a second time, he'd want to save it for his loved ones.

It was still a relief for G'raha to, true to his word, return to their room shortly after sunset – looking far calmer as well.

S'ria did not ask how his time wandering had been, but G'raha smiled at him as he hung his coat up, and that was enough.

G'raha sat upon the bed and gently patted the spot next to him, holding some small object in his other hand. S'ria stared suspiciously at it upon sitting down. It was a small box, easily able to fit in G'raha's hand, and clearly hinged. It looked quite familiar in general structure, even if the colors were more Sharlayan in sensibility.

“I, uh.” S'ria's voice climbed higher as he spoke. “Are you proposing to me? Now?”

G'raha's tail thumped against S'ria's lower back, and S'ria glanced out of the corner of his eye to see it swishing in agitation.

“Ah, I – er, no! This is not –”. G'raha blinked. “That is, unless you wanted me to be proposing, in which case –”.

“Breathe.” S'ria chuckled fondly. “No, that is a chat for another night. Sorry for assuming – what is it, then?”

G'raha shook his head, face slightly flushed. “No, you were perilously close to being correct. These are meant for marriage, it just… I do not see why we must be wed for this.”

He opened the box, showing two gold bands – simple, yet there were faintly visible etchings on them. S'ria could make a guess at what they were, but he had not knowingly seen them in person.

“Are those…?”

“Eternity rings? Yes. I must confess to having been considering it for some time, but my footsteps took me past an arcane jeweler’s shop – far less busy than normal – and it felt like a sign. They are already attuned to each other, and once they are put on for the first time, it will adjust to your aetheric signature.” G'raha smiled. “So it should be far easier for you to use than a normal aetheryte.”

S'ria stared, voice dropping to a whisper. “Raha, those cost a fortune. How am I supposed to safely wear that in battle?”

“Every gil will be worth it. And worry not – you may freely remove the ring, but it is enchanted to never leave your finger unless you choose to do so.” G'raha cleared his throat. “So, do you, er… accept this gift?”

“Why would I refuse? It is kind of you and makes perfect sense.”

G'raha glanced away. “If it feels like too much commitment, or… well, you know what other people will assume about the rings.”

S'ria cupped G'raha's face in his hands, leaning down carefully to kiss him. “All the better to stop other people from trying to court me – Raha, I hardly mind if people think that, most already know we're together.” He paused. “Though I would like to keep things clear among friends, or else they'll be mad that they weren't invited.”

G'raha laughed at that, a wonderful sound in the aftermath of all his nervous apprehension.

S'ria let go of G'raha, instead pulling his legs up onto the bed and turning to face him. “How do we do this?”

“There is still a certain amount of ceremony. Er, we just need to put them on each other, that is all. Nothing more complicated.”

“That's easy enough.” S'ria offered G'raha both of his hands. “I… I don't know what is traditional for you.”

G'raha took his left hand, a slight tremble to a normally steady hold. “‘Tis the same here as in Eorzea.”

Once the ring was placed on S'ria's finger, there was a brief odd sensation – like a painless zap or a brief vibration – and then it felt like any other piece of jewelry.

S'ria reciprocated the gesture, oh so carefully fitting the band on G'raha's ring finger, and then he could sense it – a faint link between his own ring to something else, a reassuring and almost grounding thing. 

Their hands were still clasped together when G'raha looked back up at him. “You shall not need to distract yourself from your surroundings while trying to sense a distant aetheryte, I know that is difficult for you to do suddenly – just focus on the ring and it shall do the rest.” His grip tightened, thumb tracing the metal of S'ria's ring. “This Pandæmonium… the moment it is too much – please, come home to me.”