#'we must fight together' also sticks out but the friends one is forever in my brain

[x-letsbreaksomerules-x]

“He ordered me to kill them. So I did. I killed them all.”

#fenris #dragon age #dragon age 2 #da2 #murphys funny little art pieces #the shit with the fog warriors ALWAYS gets me like. fuck man #i have a lot of little fenris pieces i want to do lately but so little time #but im glad i sat down and did this one it was fun #tarot card style drawings are such a blast #you know sometimes i think about fenris and the fog warriors and then i think about his battle dialogue #theres something about the fact that he shouts 'to me my friends' that kinda gets me #'we must fight together' also sticks out but the friends one is forever in my brain #reminded of that one post about him refusing to turn mages in and i think his experiences of betraying people before add an extra layer #to like all of that. he's been hunted and whatnot but he's also had people who took care of him and fought for HIS freedom #and he killed them once before. he wont do it again. #ok done fenrisposting goodnight

[kumeko]

A/N: For the Of Mews and Men zine! I couldn’t resist writing about my og FE husband, Chrom. Even in an AU, all he knows is suffering XD

…

…

…

…

As I am sure you are all aware, it is election time in Ylisse. It might be impossible to forget that fact, considering how many ads and signs are around. People with even the smallest stake in our country’s politics are popped out of the woodwork, all ready to throw their hat in the ring. You can’t even go for a walk without being bombarded by posters.

Especially that poster. I am sure you know the one I’m talking about. The one featuring front-runner Chrom in, shall we say, a delicate situation. Everyone has questions and I am here to get some answers. After all, it’s the Mews and Men way, though I must say, most politicians never want a tabloid like ours covering them.

Fortunately, Chrom doesn’t have such qualms with our magazine and has allowed me to interview him in his campaign’s headquarters. It’s the same location where his sister ran for office, time and time again, before the incident. I am sure it has a lot of symbolic meaning to him. We are seated in his office, just out of earshot for the hundreds of staffers outside. I recognize some faces from his sister’s cabinet—the well-prepared Frederick, the genius Cordelia, and even the wise Phila are organizing this campaign. They were the pillars of Emmeryn’s campaign. No doubt, it will end in victory if they are on board.

I set the recorder on the table between us. The room is rather sparsely decorated, with only our plastic chairs and his thrifty wooden table. It matches what I heard about Chrom’s frugal living and how little he spends on perks. His campaign money sticks to his needs: advertising and outreach.

Chrom looks stiff. It’s not a surprise, considering that he had never been in the limelight before. When I ask, he rubs his neck sheepishly and laughs. “Is it that obvious? I led as a soldier, but that’s really different than this.”

I can imagine. He had been a decent platoon leader in the army, thriving in the more physical and to the point environment of the Ylissean military. There had been a few rumours about property destruction, but most of it had been swept under the rug. That was also where he met his right-hand and best friend, the tactical genius Robin. Chrom’s expression softens as he recalls those days. “I thought we’d fight together forever. I’ve never really been one to look to the future. That’s changed now.”

And the reason for this change? Well, the obvious: his sister’s hospitalization. His eyes darken as he recalls those memories. “The day I received that call…I’ll never forget it. I think I actually stopped breathing until Robin shook me out of it. I’m just glad she’s alive.”

It had been an assassination attempt by the neighbouring country, Plegia. Not that anyone has stepped forward to claim the attack, though President Gangrel hasn’t hidden his anger over the failure. Whoever the assassin was, they’d just narrowly missed their target, and what would have been a fatal blow had become a survivable one. The entire country had mourned the loss of Emmeryn. She had been a popular leader and many of her ideals would have pushed Ylisse to a better place.

Fortunately, while she won’t be the same, she still lives. The country now lives for her journey through physical therapy, celebrating all of her milestones.

“Emmeryn’s walking again. Lissa always hovers nearby, worried, but she doesn’t need more than her walking stick now.” Chrom’s expression brightens as he talks about his sisters. Clearly, family is very important to him. “The doctors said it won’t be long before she can talk again.”

Emmeryn has already made a few appearances at campaign rallies, garnering support for Chrom and his sympathetic cause. While she can’t implement them herself, her ideals live on in her brother and many of her supporters naturally flock to him. As Chrom puts it, “when I saw that Emmeryn’s work would disappear, I couldn’t let that happen.”

It is an admirable sentiment. A brother championing his sister’s peaceful views, even after her assassination and the people’s cries for vengeance. He’s swayed the public’s opinion from war back to peace.

“I couldn’t do it without everyone’s help, though.” Another one of Chrom’s charming traits is how humble he is. “Robin knows exactly what to do, Cordelia and Frederick make it happen, Maribelle has all the connections—it’s a team effort, more than anything.”

Speaking of things that he can’t do alone, I see my chance and I take it. As fun as it is talking to him, I am here on a mission, after all. “Is there anyone you work with better than the others?”

“Oh, that’s easy.” He smiles brightly as he talks about his two main aides, Robin and Frederick. “Robin plans everything, and Frederick just makes it happen!”

It’s not really a surprise he picked those two—Frederick and Chrom have been friends since childhood, while Chrom and Robin have been inseparable since they first met. While most of the campaign is made up of an assortment of long-time friends, those two are the closest.

Either of them could even potentially be his mysterious lover. I try a different tact to weasel the information out of him. “How about out of the office?”

“Well, for the door-to-door stuff, our outreach heads have been really helpful there. There’s no one who knows the country better than Gaius and Panne is great at keeping things on track.”  It’s no surprise Chrom left those two in charge of his grassroot level promoting. While Gaius’s image has cleaned up recently, it isn’t that long ago that when someone thought of Ylisse’s shadowy side, they thought of a certain red-haired ex-thief.

Of course, Gaius has changed now. He no longer works on the black market for one. There have even been pictures of him at orphanages distributing candy. There’s been a lot of speculation on why Gaius reformed, but nothing concrete.

Perhaps love is the reason?

“How about outside the campaign itself?” I ask, digging for more candidates.

It isn’t a surprise when he talks about his sisters again. I imagine he’ll make a great father, the way he gushes over them. “Lissa’s actually stopped pranking these days! I thought maybe it was because Robin out-tricked her, but it’s because she wants to help Emmeryn.”

He definitely has the vibe of a man who would pull out a wallet full of photos of kids and grandkids if anyone asked about his family.

It is adorable and utterly useless.

“How about you?” With Chrom, the best tact is straightforwardness. I raise my pen, ready for the answer. “Are you dating anyone?”

Chrom flushes. “What?”

I’m sure all of our readers at Of Mews and Men are all aware of the rumours. Chrom is dating his mysterious aid Robin. Or perhaps he was caught kissing the long-adoring Cordelia. Or heading to a hotel with the dedicated Frederick. A steamy romance with the foreign Olivia or Lon’qu. Every tabloid has scrutinized Chrom’s photos with his associates, trying to figure out just which one is behind the poster that’s been posted on every street corner. No one’s had this kind of front row seat to ask. Not until now.

“Are you dating anyone?” I repeat firmly. I owe our readers a duty and I will not let him weasel out of this.

Chrom resembles a tomato as he shakes his head. Entirely too flustered, he denies every allegation, his hands up as though to ward off the rumours. “No one! I, that—this is a professional environment. I would never do that here.”

His wording is interesting to say the least, so I press him. “Does that mean there is someone you’re thinking of? Or maybe that you were with before the campaign?”

He is still full of denials. I feel like I am bullying a teenage boy, but journalistic integrity pushes me to pull out my phone and show him a picture of the infamous posters. It’s benign, as far as scandalous photos are, just an image of a shirtless Chrom surrounded by cats. Yet, the usually composed Chrom looked utterly relaxed as he smiled at the camera, and it didn’t take long for everyone to speculate he was with his lover.

It also didn’t take long for the poster to become a thirst trap. Whenever one’s on a wall, it’s immediately stolen. I can’t blame anyone. Have you seen the abs on this man? Clearly his time with the military was well spent; even with his busy campaign schedule, Chrom keeps himself in shape.

Whoever this mystery person is, they were very lucky. Maybe the poster is their way of bragging.

Chrom shakes with embarrassment and anger as he grabs my phone. I can hear a crack. I hope he doesn’t break it by accident. “Who—when—wait, that’s the local shelter’s cats…Lissa.” His jaw drops. “She’s pranking me.”

Well, that explains a lot. His sister is a known prankster, appearing on a lot of comedy shows as she promotes her brother. It is a disappointing, normal answer. On the bright side, there won’t be any broken hearts over it. Chrom is still available, after all. We can still fantasize that he’ll appear at our doors, sweeping us off our feet.

When I get the phone back, there is a noticeable crack on it. Chrom apologizes profusely, the gentleman he is, and asks me to send the replacement bill to his office. This isn’t the first time he’s accidentally destroyed property, it seems—he is remarkably clumsy for such a strong man.

The interview ends all too soon. His grip as he shakes my hand is overly careful. I wonder what it feels like when he lets loose, what else those hands of his can do.

He’s still single, perhaps I stand a chance to find out one day.

While there sadly is no scoop, I do have a consolation prize. Just as I leave the office, Frederick pulls me to the side and offers me a scrolled-up poster. A gift, he claims. To help promote the campaign.

It’s a pristine version of the cat poster. When I question, Frederick explains. “A campaign is always in need of funding and promotion. So, why not do both at the same time?”

This amazing campaign strategy had come from Robin’s devious mind. There is even a store where you can buy these posters, so no one needs to tear a used one off a fence anymore. It gets better: they have mugs, shirts, and even mousepads.

“It’s been doing so well, we actually have a second collection out,” Frederick adds as he hands me a box full of goodies. I obviously accept: there’s just something relaxing about Chrom’s smile. I have to smile back, no matter how crappy my day is. Even if you don’t vote for him, you should check out the store.

The election is in a month. I hope this piece helps you with deciding your vote. I know where mine’s going in next week’s early voting.

I even circled the date on the Chrom calendar, so I won’t forget.

#fire emblem awakening #chrom #chrobin #frederick fire emblem #emmeryn #lissa #not sure what the other ship names i'm teasing are #but there's light teasing all around #fanfic

[x-other-souled-x]

I'm a little upset right now, due to system related things... I just wanna get it off my chest...

.

Our main fronter from I think around 2019 up till part of the way thru this year has disappeared and we havnt heard from him in a while. Actually, around April it feels as if the whole system disappeared and some new nameless, faceless guy got put in front and had to deal with things just... like that. The confusion was not great, I think. There's still a lot of confusion, since this nameless and faceless guy still has no name and feels as though he's an imposter living a life for someone else.

Even when "older" members of the system started popping their heads back in, none of them where any of who had the attachment to friends and life stuff the same way our former main fronter did. So we abandoned those freinds, I don't know how to talk to them and that may sound stupid but genuinely I feel like I don't know them at all.

Despite now having at least 5 active members who cycle in and out, we still have this lonely feeling. It feels downright BAD to have abandoned friends and just straight up ghosted them, while pretending to live life like normal. And I still wish I could reach out and say "hey we are plural and the guy you're used to talking to has been missing for like almost the whole year now and we don't know what to do."

Cuz like what are they going to do with that information?

I kinda just wanna bite that bullet and if they decide we are horrible for it then that's fine, but then I worry if our guy comes back and wants to try and hang out with them again it will be awfully fucked for him.

I'm someone who came about in the system to help out our missing guy back when he first started putting two and two together, we figured out together that whoever "we were" before 2019 is also gone and disappeared and we were the replacements. I'm really attached to our missing guy tbh, and I miss him a lot, and I'm really afraid that he'll be lost forever just like our previous main fronters.

And if that's truly the pattern, one fronter for several years who takes the main role in life and then after that disappears, well then we have an existential crisis looming. And maybe that's why our new guy hasn't been able to feel attached to anything for his own self. Maybe the fear that it will happen to him too is what's keeping him numbed out, no need to worry if there was nothing to loose anyway right?

Its been causing us some stress, lately we are fronting in pairs without him because being out without any attachment to a name or whatever else is keeping him from wanting to be out at all. I don't blame him tbh. Floating thru life and working 40 hrs a week with no purpose or self recognition sucks, it feels like being a zombie wading thru the hellscape of capitalism and not even being able to enjoy the pay you get for your labor. It feels like what I must imagine being soulless and empty must be.

I've tried to help, but nothing seems to stick. How do you make freinds if when they ask your name you just "uhhhhhhh idk" and blank out? We have eachother but even that gets kinda lonely bc we have very limited communication without typing. (I mean we do have communication but it's not constant and it feels like we have to fight some invisible wall to get through so it's kinda exhausting mentally too...)

And some days I wonder if this has anything to do with having a locked door separating the void where we sit from "everything else" in the brain. I've gone in there before, but once you come back out of the door you forget everything that's inside it.

I've rambled way way too much now. So I'll stop there...

#i dont really have a sign off uhhhhhh

[robininthelabyrinth]

Fic were both JZX and Jiang Yanli are trans? I imagine the engagement would get complicated.

The More Things Change - ao3

“My lady,” the midwife said. “Congratulations. You have a daughter.”

Madame Jin shook her head. “I need a son,” she said.

“My lady –”

“I’m not doing that again,” Madame Jin said, her voice getting stronger. “I need a son.”

“But –”

She looked at her loyal maid, who inclined her head.

A knife flashed.

“Congratulations, my lady,” her maid said, pushing aside the midwife’s body with her foot. “You have a son.”

Madame Jin smiled.

-

“I’m glad you survived the birth of your child,” Madame Yu said to her old childhood friend, wondering why she’d been invited over to visit Lanling City quite so quickly – it hadn’t even been a month. “Were you thinking –”

“I have a son,” her friend said.

“Congratulations.”

“You don’t understand,” her friend said. “There’s a problem.”

-

“A-Li,” Jiang Yanli’s mother said in a strange tone. “Do you like wearing dresses?”

“Uh-huh,” Jiang Yanli said, trying to see if she could stick her fist into her mouth. She’d always worn frocks, the way all children her age did, but at some point soon her mother had been warning her that she’d need to switch over to wearing proper robes for boys. Jiang Yanli had burst into tears, saying she didn’t want to be a boy at all – that she didn’t want to leave her mother’s side, that she didn’t want to join the world of men, she didn’t, she didn’t.

“And you really don’t want to go be a boy? Really, you’re sure?”

Jiang Yanli nodded.

“What if I said you didn’t have to be? You could be a girl, just the way you like.”

“Really?”

“Mm. But you’d have to be a girl forever.”

“Okay,” Jiang Yanli said happily. “I wanna be a girl forever.”

“Good,” her mother said, and picked her up. “Just keep saying that.”

-

“What do you think we are,” Jiang Fengmian asked his wife blankly. “Qinghe Nie?”

His wife glared daggers at him.

“Attempt the impossible,” she said stiffly. “A-Li has been claiming to be a girl consistently for a year. Would you deny her the chance to follow her dreams?”

Well, when she put it that way…

Jiang Fengmian hesitated.

“It does create a problem,” his wife said, and he looked at her. She smiled faintly and leaned forward, showing her curves to their best advantage. “If she’s a girl, she’ll marry out, won’t she? We need a boy.”

Jiang Fengmian swallowed. A boy sounded – nice, he thought vaguely, eyes caught on what he was being offered. A little boy, lively and bright, with a happy smile always on his face…yes, that sounded rather nice.

Wei Changze’s letter upstairs said that his wife had announced that they had conceived, and that she had divined that it would be a son – it was frightfully early to make such predictions, less than a month in, but apparently disciples of the immortal mountain were able to determine such things early. A boy like that, who could be friends with their boy, a reason for them to come to visit and maybe even to stay…

Yes, he thought. That sounded rather good.

“All right,” he said. “A-Li can be a girl, I guess.”

-

Madame Yu and Madame Jin let news of the engagement seep out as rumor for months before telling their husbands. When they did, they took different approaches: Madame Jin pointed out the strategic benefits of an alliance with Yunmeng Jiang and the unlikelihood of Jin Guangshan finding a match for their son that would give him so much more influence in the cultivation world, which had made her husband stop his grumbling and look upon the match with a favorable eye.

Madame Yu stared at her husband, for whom she had just born a son three weeks premature and very nearly died in the process, and said, “What’s your problem?”

“A-Li can’t marry the Jin sect heir! She’s not –” He waved his hands. “The possibility of children –”

“I would have thought that would be a selling point,” Madame Yu said, and he blinked at her. “He’s Guangshan’s son. There will be children enough.”

After some further arguing, Jiang Fengmian begrudgingly backed down.

Madame Yu smiled to herself, and thought of grandchildren.

-

Everyone said that Jin Zixuan was a spoiled brat and incredibly lucky, but he didn’t think he was. Sure, he was rich and legitimate; his father valued him, while his mother loved him and would defend him against any challengers to his position as heir, but privately…

“Why do I have to work so hard?” Jin Zixuan asked, panting. “I’m already cultivating, and my teachers say I’m not bad with the sword –”

“Not bad isn’t good enough,” his mother said sharply. “You have to keep up with all the rest of them, and that means getting ahead now.”

“The rest of who?” he asked. “Do you mean…”

He hesitated, not knowing if he was also included in his mother’s taboo against mentioning the results of his father’s philandering.

“All of the cultivation world’s young gentlemen,” she said, to his surprise. “You have to keep up with them. No, you need to exceed them. You must!”

“But – why?”

“I’ll tell you when you’re older.”

-

“Mother,” Jiang Yanli said. She was clutching a book in her hands. “Mother, can we talk?”

Her mother frowned at her, looking disapproving – and then she saw the book.

Jiang Yanli thought she would yell at her, but she didn’t; her mother only gestured for her to come into her room, ordering her maids to close the doors and windows.

“Mother,” Jiang Yanli said. “Mother, the book –”

“How did you get a spring book?” her mother asked. She looked tired. “Surely you’re still too young?”

Jiang Yanli bowed her head.

It was true, she was too young. And yet…

“Mother, the pictures in the book…”

“I know.” Her mother sighed. “All right. Let me explain.”

-

Jin Zixuan stared at his mother. He felt sick.

“But,” he said, and swallowed. “But what about…?”

“I’ve handled it,” she said harshly. “But that is why you must not allow your father to take you to a brothel. Is that understood?”

-

“Who do you think is the best girl? Zixuan-xiong?”

“Oh, don’t ask him! He has a fiancée, so his answer will be her!”

“A fiancée? Really? What sect is she from? She must be extremely talented!”

“Forget it,” Jin Zixuan said.

“What do you mean by that?” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, and suddenly he was getting into his face. “Say that again if you dare!”

Jin Zixuan opened his mouth, hating him – hating the whole situation, being stuck not making any decisions for himself, his whole life mapped out for him by others – but then hesitated.

Jiang Yanli is the only one fit for you, his mother said. Do you understand? The only one.

“I haven’t met her since I was five,” he said instead of what he wanted, rolling his eyes. “So how could I dare to boast about her in your presence? You all want to know about her, ask Jiang-gongzi.”

Wei Wuxian blinked at him, the wind suddenly taken out of his sails.

Jin Zixuan escaped.

He felt like shit, thought. She was his fiancée, and he didn’t know anything about her – he didn’t want to hear about her, think about her. And yet…

The only one.

He went back to his room and wrote her a letter. It was a mess, the worst thing he’d ever written, nothing at all like the polite and careful phrasing, elegant and beautiful, that he’d been trying to put together, something worthy of his name.

He sent it before he could think better of it.

-

Jiang Yanli held the letter to her chest and smiled.

-

They’d exchanged a few dozen letters. Jin Zixuan knew that his intended was smart and witty, empathetic and kind, observant and well-meaning, but he didn’t know that she was beautiful until after they escaped from the indoctrination camp and the cave with the Xuanwu of Slaughter.

He’d just accompanied Jiang Cheng for the entire seven days it took to get to the Lotus Pier, collapsing right alongside him, and while Jiang Cheng had – somehow – gotten back on his feet and immediately led his father and mother out the door to go rescue Wei Wuxian, he’d stayed down on the floor until someone knelt down in front of him and smiled.

“Can I get you something to eat, Jin-gongzi?” Jiang Yanli asked.

“Uh,” Jin Zixuan said, and turned bright red. He could sure think of some things he’d like to eat – living as his father’s son had certainly given him an education (however theoretical) about that.

“Food,” Jiang Yanli clarified, giggling into her sleeve. “Let me get you some food.”

-

This was probably a bad idea, Jiang Yanli thought, looking down at the head tucked against her chest. I probably should’ve just stuck to food. What if he gets with child? What will we do then?

She couldn’t quite bring herself to regret it, though.

“A-Xuan,” she whispered, and Jin Ziuxan stirred a little. “Can we do it again?”

“You’re insatiable.”

That wasn’t a refusal.

-

“A-Li!” Jin Zixuan shouted, rushing forward. “A-Li, A-Li…!”

She collapsed into his arms.

He looked at the retainers from Meishan Yu, stubborn but pale. “It’s all right,” he said. “She’s my fiancée. I can take care of her.”

“The Jin sect walks in the center path,” one of the retainers said. “Never quite committing to the Sunshot Campaign. How do we know this isn’t a trick to get into the Wen sect’s good books?”

Jin Zixuan bit his lip. He’d pushed his father time and time again, and even that had only gotten them to participate half-heartedly in the fight against the Wen sect. What could he say? What worth was his word?

“It’s all right,” Jiang Yanli said. “I trust him.”

-

“You could do so much better, you know,” Wei Wuxian said. “It’s not too late!”

Jiang Yanli smiled down at her wedding outfit, but thinking instead of the panicked expression on Jin Zixuan’s face a week before when he’d unexpectedly thrown up in the morning when he was supposed to be preparing for the Phoenix Mountain hunt.

“Oh, it’s too late,” Jiang Cheng grumbled. “On that note, you pick the name.”

“The name…?”

“For our upcoming nephew.”

“Shijie! You didn’t!”

Jiang Yanli’s grin widened.

-

“Wei Wuxian has committed a crime in attacking our camp and taking the Wen remnants,” Jin Zixuan’s father announced. “We should –”

“Let it go, Father.”

“…what?!”

“I’m getting married, and he’s A-Li’s shidi,” Jin Zixuan reminded his father. “It would be inauspicious to start a marriage by breaking such a relationship.”

His father looked like he was planning on ignoring that, so Jin Zixuan used his trump card.

“We can’t afford anything inauspicious right now,” he said. “Not when there’s a child on the way.”

His mother dropped her cup.

-

“I have to go,” Jin Zixuan said. “You don’t understand. I have to.”

Jiang Yanli rubbed his hair. “You’re supposed to be in seclusion,” she reminded him. “As am I.”

“I’ve been throwing up every morning for two months, A-Li,” Jin Zixuan pleaded. “I can order them to clear the kitchen. No one would know we were there!”

Jiang Yanli laughed a little. “The craving’s that bad, huh?”

“Yes!”

“Oh, all right. We’ll give it a shot…”

It would have worked, too, if Jin Guangyao hadn’t noticed that too many people were in the wrong place and taken it upon himself to investigate.

“…Jiang-guniang?” He stared at her flat waist, then turned his eyes slowly towards the roundness at Jin Zixuan’s. “Jin-gongzi…?!”

“It’s all right, it’s A-Yao,” Jin Zixuan said to Jiang Yanli. “He won’t tell anyone. Right?”

Jin Guangyao shook his head mutely.

“Seclusion,” he muttered. “No wonder…everyone said it was bad timing that you went into seclusion right before Mistress Jiang announced her pregnancy. But it wasn’t, was it..?” He shook his head. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell.”

“We’re in your debt,” Jin Zixuan said, and thought Jin Guangyao’s eyes upon him were softer than they’d ever been before. “You’ll be a good uncle.”

Jin Guangyao smiled. “Perhaps,” he allowed. “One question, if I may. Who’s the father?”

Jiang Yanli wrapped an arm around Jin Zixuan’s shoulders and beamed.

Jin Guangyao’s jaw dropped again.

-

“Your son needs you,” Jiang Yanli said to Madame Jin. “Go.”

-

“Jin Ling,” Madame Jin said, looking down at the baby in her arms. A son, her grandson…a miracle. “Well. You’re – not what I expected.”

If her husband ever found out…

Well.

She’d just have to make sure he wouldn’t, now, wouldn’t she?

#mdzs #jin zixuan #jiang yanli #madame jin #yu ziyuan #my fic #my fics #the more things change #misaligned

[boldlyvoid]

Amoreena | chapter four

Chapter Four

summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Warnings: fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3.9k

from the beginning <3

Everyone at work was very understanding. Almost all of them saw it coming, he was taking more sick days than normal and he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore when the 30 days was required to take rolled around. They were profilers after all.

He arrives on Thursday morning to pack his desk. The team is finally home and all together to wish him well on his future journey, giving him hugs and kisses as they each visited his desk.

They had already replaced him, Will LaMontagne was giving the FBI a shot, finally. Spending more time with JJ, the kids were old enough now to accept both of them working. And Kate Callahan was back, now that her baby wasn’t a baby anymore either.

Even Penelope and Derek showed up, bringing a cake that said ‘happy retirement’ written across the frosting. They were happy for him, they shared the same excitement he had. There was a thrill in his eyes again as they asked him about his plans.

“Tell us about this Y/N you met,” Emily cut into the laughter to get to the serious topics.

“I’ve been going to the park a lot recently and I found this little reading nook by a pond. She was there with her daughter and they invited me over to their picnic,” he realized how fake it all sounded as he continued to speak. “Her daughter is wonderful and super smart, I took them to the Smithsonian on Sunday and I’m completely smitten.”

Everyone swooned, happy to see him finally finding someone that makes him gush like this. It had been a very, very long time since Spencer has told any of them about a person, let alone someone he was in love with.

“She is wonderful,” Penelope added, “she makes the best tea and she lives in a literal Disney movie.”

Spencer laughed, “yeah she does. They probably read more books than I have, they make so many references all the time and they even dress up for what they’re reading, it’s amazing.”

They were amazed by how giddy he was, unable to stop smiling at him, “here we dressed up for the museum, I was milo from Atlantis and she was the old man in Tarzan,” he pulled his phone from his pocket to show them the photo.

It was his background now, Y/N sent it to him when he finally went back to his place Monday night, knowing he’d miss them. Not wanting him to be alone.

He was beyond proud to show them the photo, beaming from ear to ear as they all complimented his attire.

“She looks like you,” Kate added, “must be the genius gene,” she added, making awkward eye contact with JJ as they both clocked it.

“She’s exactly like me, that’s why Y/N likes having me around, it’s good for Amoreena to feel normal with the way our brains work,” he spoke about her like she was his own. Forever grateful to have her in his life.

“So when are you proposing?” Matt teased him. Knowing the feeling of love like this all too well with his perfect wife and a handful of children.

“I’m not trying to jinx anything,” Spencer admitted. “I actually have a job interview at the Library she works at later, so I’ll be around here a lot more.”

“He’ll be moved in by the end of the month,” Tara smiled, proud of him and the courage it takes to follow your heart.

“I’m going to miss you guys,” he presses his lips together softly, nodding as he avoids eye contact with them. “But you can call me whenever you need my brain, I guess.”

Hugs were exchanged as Spencer had to leave, Derek even offered to drive him back to his apartment to help with 4 boxes of books from his desk, and to have a bit of a talk like they always do.

“It’s surprisingly easy to be a dad, all you have to do is be there and love them,” Derek shared a tidbit of advice

“She told me she doesn’t mind me being like Amoreena’s dad, but I don’t think I can yet. I want her to decide when she wants me in that role.”

Spencer explains his feelings the easiest to Derek. Like he was already in his mind and knew the thoughts before he said them, Derek was never mad or disappointed in him. He loved him fully, and Spencer loved him right back.

“Like when you chose Gideon?”

Spencer can only nod, it’s still too sad to think about him being gone. “You know what it’s like, you love your father but there are other people in your life who fit the role better.”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “You’re going to be great, regardless of the name she uses when she thinks of you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer smiled as they pulled up to his apartment, “you should bring Hank to meet the animals this weekend sometime.”

“He’d love that,” Derek smiled back at him, patting his shoulder lightly. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I wouldn’t have been able to do it if you didn’t first,” he admits. “You’re a strong man who decided to put his happiness first, I can be too.”

“You sure as hell can,” Derek wrapped him up in one last hug before sending him off to live that best life he was talking about.

The only person who didn’t know yet was his mother. He wasn’t sure how to tell her, he knew she’d be proud of him regardless but that anxiety of disappointing her never went away even now that he was 40.

“Spencer!”

“Hey mom,” he smiled when she picked up. “How are you?”

“I’m fantastic, Marge and I are going on a walk later to see some ducks that were born, I really love it here Spencer,” he could hear it in her voice. She was much more joyful when she was surrounded by friends.

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“you sound happy, what’s going on?”

She was his mother, after all, she could know exactly how he’s feeling from just hearing him breathe or being in the same room as him. It was like a superpower, she always knew what was going on.

“I met someone,” he can’t help but smile. “And I quit the FBI to have a family.”

“You’re kidding?” He couldn’t read her tone, not sure if she was surprised or disappointed.

“Her name is Y/N, she has a 7-year-old daughter named Amoreena who is exactly like how I was as a child, you’d really like them,” he explains and he can hear his mother's smile from his end of the phone.

“I would love to meet them, you can bring them to visiting hours next Tuesday?” Diana offered, genuinely happy for him in a way that made his heart burst.

“I’ll see if they’re free and I’ll let you know.”

“I love you, Spencer,” she reminded him. “It’s nice to hear you’re happy, that’s all I’ve ever wanted for you.”

“I love you too, thank you, mom, for everything.”

She hangs up before they can get too emotional, leaving Spencer inside his sad little apartment all by himself. Taking the opportunity to pack his overnight bag for Y/N and pick out some books from his collection to show Amoreena.

There’s an envelope sticking out of one of his books that manages to catch his attention, taking it out to see his name written on it in Gideon’s handwriting. He almost forgot he had this, how important the words were.

Spencer,

I knew it would be you who came to the cabin to check on me. I’m sorry the explanation couldn’t be better, Spencer. I’m sorry it doesn’t make more sense, but I’ve already told you. I just don’t understand any of it anymore.

I guess I’m just looking for it again, for the belief I had in college, the belief I had when I first met Sara and it all seemed so right.

The belief in happy endings. When you find that, never let it go, Spencer.

Don’t let this job do to you what it did to me, get out and get a life when you can. I have faith in you, till I see you again, take care, son.

Gideon

He walked over to the window then, seeing a beautiful red and brown bird perched on his fire escape. He couldn’t help but smile, “I found my Sara, thank you,” he whispers to the bird who turns its head to the side before flying off.

Gideon always did have the best timing and the best advice.

—

“Y/N, your one o’clock is here to see you,” the receptionist at the Library said over the phone, hanging up and returning her attention to Spencer, “she’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Doctor Reid,” he hears her voice as she rounds the corner, appearing behind a stack of books in the most beautiful blue dress he’s ever seen. “Lovely to see you again.”

“You too,” he smiles.

“Right this way,” she can’t help but smile as she escorts him to her office.

“I don’t normally consider people who don’t send in a resume, but I have a feeling you’re going to be good at this,” she teased him as he sat at her desk.

“Allison is going on maternity leave in a few weeks, so you won’t start until she has the baby. If you’re serious about wanting this position, it’s only Monday through Thursday, 9 to 2:30.”

“You’re not going to ask me anything?”

“I don’t know if you know this, but the literary historian and I get to spend a lot of time together, I’d rather hire someone I know I already like,” she smiled again. “And it would be nice to see you every day without a 7-year-old taking all your attention away from me.”

“You just want to live out the fantasy of kissing someone in the encyclopedia section, don’t you?” He teased her right back, making her blush. “I knew it.”

“Sue me!” She laughed, and he finally understood what tinker bell meant when she said farries are born from the purest laughter.

He was in love with her right then and there, he was sure of it.

It had been under a week and yet as he stared at her, hearing her wonderful laughter and seeing her beautiful smile, knowing she wanted to spend time with him, that she genuinely liked him and none of this was one-sided, it made him fall harder than he thought he could.

“Come on then,” he stands abruptly, taking her hand and pulling her out the door.

She tries to giggle quietly as she follows him all the way back to the quietest section of the library. Most of the books on the shelves didn’t even have bar codes because they haven’t been checked out since the 60’s, no one needs them but they can’t seem to part with them.

She backs up against the shelf and pulls him into her space, he drops her hands and holds her face instead, looking at her beautiful eyes as they sparkled in the fluorescent lighting.

“I was expecting this to be hungrier than this when I imagined it all for all these years,” she whispers, biting her lip to force her smile back.

“You’re just so fucking beautiful,” is all he can say, brushing her cheeks with his thumbs lightly a few times before finally placing his lips against hers, ever so gently.

Her hands stretched around his back, pulling him in closer till their bodies are pressed together and then she’s kissing him deeper. Breathing in through her nose like she’s trying to keep him there forever, her fingernails dig into his shirt and he knows she wants more.

He slid his thigh between hers, opening his mouth to give her all the access she wanted and letting her take control of the speed. She wasn’t kidding when she said she expected it to be hungrier. She was kissing him like it was the first time she has had contact with another human being in years, and it just might have been. She said she was single for a while before Amoreena, probably the whole time since as well.

“Spencer,” she took a moment to gasp for air, breathing against his lips as he did the same. “Can we?”

He kisses along her jaw then, moving towards her ear to whisper, “do what? Use your words.”

“Anything, just touch me please, god it’s been 12 years,” she begged as quietly as possible, tugging at his hair as he nibbled on her earlobe.

He kissed down her neck making his way towards her chest. Holding her by the hips now, she arched her back into the shelf as he kissed all the way to where her dress started to cover her breasts but he didn’t stop. Kissing over her clothes as he dropped down to his knees in front of her.

He undid his tie, slipping it off his neck and handing it to her, “in case you need to scream into something.”

She held it in her hand for a second, registering what he just said and moaning softly in response as she held it closer to her lips, he took that as a yes and slipped under her dress.

She was wearing just a pair of regular cut pink underwear, not expecting this in the slightest when she got ready this morning. He kissed her over top of the fabric, spreading her legs so that he could kiss the insides of her thighs as she tried to desperately grind into his face. grazing his teeth against her skin as she shivers, thighs shaking in anticipation.

He kisses right where her clit should be under the fabric, knowing he’s correct when she whimpers around the tie he handed her. It's muffled and adorable as he kisses her again and again, knowing she wants more and teasing her gently.

He pulls her panties to the side, mesmerized by how perfect she is for only a second before returning to the task at hand. Being the first person to pleasure her in years, wanting her to have the best time possible.

With one hand he holds her panties back, using his other to slowly swipe a single finger through her folds to see just how wet she was. Smirking against her thigh as he’s able to slip right in.

“Please,” he hears her whisper, lifting the dress up so she could look at what he’s doing.

“Such a good girl for me,” he pressed the words against her skin.

He spreads her legs even further, resting one of them on his shoulder as he dives in, sucking her clit into his mouth abruptly as he pumps his single finger in and out. She jerks her hips at the sudden contact, stuffing the tie in her mouth and biting down as she whimpers.

He knows what he’s doing, where all the pleasure spots are and what feels the best on most women. Searching around and trying different tongue movements, memorizing the sounds she makes and attempting to hear them again and again, knowing it means she’s enjoying herself.

That’s all he wanted, to please her. Not even realizing how hard he was as he continues to eat her out furiously in the back corner of the DC Public Library. He forgets they’re even in public entirely as he moans against her clit, sending shockwaves through her body.

She’s quaking then, holding onto the top of his head with one hand as the other grips a shelf. She’s panting into the material of the tie, the hot breath making its way through the fabric and stopping the whorish moans he knew she’d make. It had been too long since someone treated her right.

He added a second finger then, wanting to push her over the edge as he curled them, finding her g spot and caressing it with every thrust of his fingers. She clenched around him then, a high-pitched noise left her mouth as she finished around him.

He couldn’t help but smirk, re-moving his fingers and cleaning them off in his mouth. Releasing them with a pop before dragging his tongue along her one last time. Gathering up everything she released and placing her panties back over her nicely.

He kissed over her underwear one last time before fixing her dress and standing up, “did I manage to fulfill the dream?”

She couldn’t help but laugh, looking like she was coming down from a real high, not just an orgasm. She pulled him in close and held onto him for dear life as she continued to catch her breath, and then her hand started to wander.

“Nope,” Spencer whispered, moving her hand away from his aching cock. “As much as I want to, I’d rather fuck you at home.”

“Home huh?” She teased him, kissing his cheek softly as she pulled back.

"I love you," he whispers against her ear, without a fear in the world that she didn't feel the same way.

"I love you too, Spencer."

They couldn’t stop smiling at each other, it felt surreal to be this happy. He kissed her a few more times, staying hidden in the back corner until the blood in his body let this dick and went back to where it was supposed to be.

She just held him in her arms, leaning back against the shelves as they kissed softly, running her hands through his hair gently, over and over. She whispered a few thank you’s to him, letting him know it was everything she waited for.

It was truly perfect.

—

Amoreena was so happy to see him back at the farm when she got off the bus, she missed him during the few days he wasn’t there.

She asked him to help with her homework, her teacher assigning them an “all about me” project to showcase their growth at the end of the year ceremony. It was almost June, she only had a few weeks left before she was off for the summer and free to show him around the whole kingdom.

Y/N brought out a box of craft supplies and a collection of photos. Showing Spencer every single moment of her and Amoreena’s life.

From her first sonogram to the first bump photo, she had and every maternity shot on the farm you could think of, to the day she was born, her first bath, first steps, chocolate cake shoved on her nose at her first birthday, everything. He felt like he watched her grow up in the blink of an eye, staring at all the photos while Y/N and Amoreena made a plan for her project.

She did look a lot like him, in some instances, she even looked like his mom. There was a look Diana would get when she was intrigued with something, or when she was trying to figure something out. She’d bite her tongue and tilt her head, and it was exactly what Amoreena did.

He never thought he’d see a child-like himself this early, he always expected someone to contact him at 18 and surprise him like Rossi. He really never, ever thought he'd have a child in his life who he was blessed with watching grow up. He never believed someone would have a kid so much like him and allow him to see the world through their eyes. He was amazed by how lucky he got, to be brought into an already happy family that wanted him, they didn’t just need him.

There was no need for a father in Amoreena’s life, she was happily living her life with her grandparents and her mother, explaining to him that she had a bunch of aunts and uncles, plus 15 cousins and they all lived close too. Her life was full of people to love her, and yet she wanted Spencer to love her too.

“Can I put the photo of us at the museum on here too?” She asked Y/N, looking at Spencer to see if he was okay with it too. “I already told my friends that you’re my dad.”

He felt like he couldn’t breathe, he didn’t want to cry in front of her so instead he just stopped all movement inside of his body and held it in. Looking at Y/N who was also a little emotional as Amoreena went back to looking through the photos.

Amoreena didn’t even notice how their expressions changed, she didn’t understand the weight of the words as she said them. She was oblivious to the hole in Spencer’s heart that she was filling with glitter glue, making him feel like he was whole again.

“Yeah,” he finally managed to speak. “I’d love to be on your project.”

“I know you said we don’t need dads but I kinda want one,” Amoreena’s soft expression made his heart melt even more. He was putty in her hands, willing to be whatever she wanted from him as long as he could.

“When did you say that?” Y/N asked softly, confused as to where she was when they had a conversation.

“The other morning at breakfast, um, my father left when I was little. It was just me and my wonderful mother until I was 21, then I found someone to call Dad. His name was Jason Gideon, he was my mentor and he made he feel like I was smart and loved,” he smiled, letting her know he genuinely meant it. “There’s a big difference between being a father and being someone's dad.”

“What’s that?” Amoreena’s innocent mind running wild as she tried to figure out his meaning.

“Anyone can be a father when two adults make a baby,” he said softly, making eye contact with Y/N as she blushed. Knowing where he was going with this. “But dads are special, they’re the people who are supposed to make you feel safe and loved. A person who you can turn to for advice and know he’ll love you no matter what you have to say. Dad’s are supposed to love you forever, regardless of what happens in life. Just like your mom does already.”

Amoreena leaned into his chest, pressing her head against him softly. He wrapped his arms around her gently, giving her the tiniest hug he’s ever given. “I pick you then, you’re the best guy I know and I think that means you’d be a good dad.”

Y/N silently cried, getting up from the table and walking into the kitchen so Amoreena wouldn’t see her sob. Spencer tried to widen his eyes so the tears he was generating would slip back into his tear ducts. Not wanting to cry as she held him.

“I’d love to be your dad,” he whispered, kissing her head softly as she held him tighter. “But first I’ve gotta check on your mom,” he whispered into her hair. Watching her pull away and look for where she was.

“Okay,” Amoreena shrugged, returning to her project as he wandered into the kitchen.

She was leaning against the counter when he walked in, her dress pulled up over her face as she cried into the material. Wiping her face as Spencer walked in and looking at him with the happiest smile.

She was laughing into her tears then, shaking her head as she sobbed, “why am I crying?”

He laughed then too, pulling her into a hug and spinning her around gently as she kept laughing. Her face buried into his neck as she smiled, he set her down gently so he could pull her into a kiss.

Her cheeks were all wet as he held her face, peppering kisses to her lips as they both tried to stop smiling.

“I’m going to miss hearing her call you Spencer,” Y/N whispered.

“Me too,” he giggled again. “But dad does have a good ring to it.”

tag list:

@shemarmooresfedora

@spencers-dria

@spookyspence

@reidsfish

@manuosorioh

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

[issaxcharlie]

Owen hosts Couple tag

Pairing: Charlie Gillespie x Artist Fem Reader

Summary: We play pretend world guys✨ (I missed them, I’m SoRryyyy.) So, Charlie wants some reassurance after starting to prepare his proposal to Y/N and makes this “genius” plan with Owen to find her answers without being suspicious. (She totally knows tho) also a lot of friendship fighting between Owen and Y/N because I had to, I made myself laugh a lot so I’ll hope at least makes you smile🤧🤣Anyways, have fun!

This is also my weird and nonsense way of doing sweet @marvel-ousnesss request of the we play pretend couple to do a couple buzzfeed quiz 💖

The blonde takes a deep breath before picking up his phone and heading to the living room, where his couple of friends and roommates are on the couch. Charlie is lying down watching television and Y/N is lying on top of him with her face snuggled into his neck, he hugging her around the waist while gently running his fingers down her skin.

The plan was simple, to help Charlie plan the perfect proposal and give him an idea of what she expects from her wedding, they were doing a “Couple tag” video. That way the questions wouldn’t be as suspicious. Of course, there are easier ways but we are talking about Charlie. They convinced Kenny to call her and tell her that it was to promote the second season that is currently being filmed, and she agreed.

Charlie mentioned many times that someone else had to ask her the questions because she reads her boyfriend like an open book, so his improvisation had to be perfect to keep his best friend’s clever girlfriend out of the hook.

He decided to start the live from his room so as not to give the singer the opportunity to think much about it, so he sits in the living room and focuses the image on his friends who are not affected in the least by their positions. After all, everyone already knows that they are a couple and that they live together.

“Hello, I’m Y/N Y/L! And yes, that sexy, beautiful, adorable and talented man is my boyfriend, Charlie Gillespie.” He blushes as the memory of their first night back as a couple invades the mind of the Canadian, who had his girlfriend in exactly this position when she was, as she said, 'practicing' her introduction. Sadly, this time it will not end like that night because his best friend and about 500,000 people are watching.

“Welcome to my first edition of the Couple tag everyone! Here's my first guest couple, I know it’s not much, but I promise to find someone worthwhile next time, this is just for practice." Charlie laughs but looks nervous. Instead, his girlfriend sits down and rolls her eyes.

"I can't believe you chose him over a puppy or a hamster." The girl says to her boyfriend while laughing at her friend's offended reaction.

“I'm going to write that down in my long enemies list, but for now I have a live to lead. Okay guys, so basically I will ask them questions and I will also choose who answers them because I’m the only one hot enough to call the shots here."

She laughs and sticks out her tongue. Charlie sits down too and she takes his hand to fiddle with it. She keeps arguing for a few minutes with Owen but shows no signs of not wanting to play the game so he starts before she regrets it.

“Okay, first one is for Charlie. How did you guys met? This is actually a good one because a lot of the fans think you met on set and are like this really intense couple who started to date the very first week without even knowing each other’s last names.”

They both start laughing at the comment. The truth is that they have seen multiple posts and comments online from people judging their relationship and how fast they were going, especially when they did that last interview together and Y/N said that Charlie was taking his sweet time to ask for marriage, since for the fans they only have one year and months of knowing each other.

“We have known each other since forever. Our moms were best friends and we were born only a few weeks apart so we've always been together. We grew up as best friends and were dating before Y/N moved to New York to play Daniela on Stardust." Charlie tries to shake off the memory of the last tearful kiss before Y/N got on the plane. Hopefully he’ll never have to part from her for so long again. Sometimes he can't even understand how he managed to get through those 5 years.

"So no, we don't know each other for just one year, but 22." She adds, kissing his nose.

"Y/N, honey. I didn't ask you, don't be rude and wait for your turn." Owen says teasingly, the girl laughs and throws a pillow at him.

“Okay, rude again. Y/N, What is the first thing that he ever gave you?”

“Oh my, this beautiful valentines card! We were like eight I think. The paper is red, and it is filled with gold and silver glitter stars. Inside is a big star that has written in the middle, “My bright star, happy valentine’s day. I love you. And a lot of doodles of my favorite things, like my guitar, a microphone, chocolate, and a little Charlie. Just adorable, I still have it and to date it is one of my favorite gifts.”

The emotion with which she responds makes Charlie's heart melt. That was the first time he called her bright star, and he kept saying it to her during every audition, every performance, every practice. The exact reason not even she knows, but maybe one of these days he'll tell her.

“Rude and a liar. The 22-year-old Charlie's handwriting is horrible, the 8-year-old Charlie handwriting could only be close to a squiggle, nothing more. Oh, and probably only you had the ability to read it. I very much doubt that was beautiful."

She opens her mouth in surprise and wrinkles her nose, feigning annoyance. “I liked you more when you had a crush on me. You were nicer.”

Owen's eyes widen and he turns to see Charlie looking for help but he just starts laughing. “Wh- What are you talking about, mean girl?”

“Oh c’mon, you totally did, Ohio.” She smiles at the camara while showing a superiority face.

“Really? I already told you a thousand times, I'm from Oklahoma. But hey, how funny, forget about Stardust and audition for Funny Girl!”

“Jokes on you, I would nail Fanny Brice.”

“Man, defend my honor!”

“Bro, I can’t. You totally did, I even got worried for a second there.” It is incredible to think about how their friendship has grown and matured over time. They went from Owen fangirling every time he saw her to being really good friends. All these fights are more of a show than anything else, the truth is that when nobody is recording they tend to be very cool around each other and the three of them have quite a pleasant dynamic now that they are living together for the show.

“I won, Idaho. Now, please continue.”

“Well, my friends embarrassed me on my own live. I can already imagine the headlines tomorrow. Anyways, Charlie, Would you let yourself in danger to save her?”

Charlie starts laughing as he drops his head on the girl's shoulder. "I think she's not going to let me lie, I always have and will continue to do so. For me it's always her safety first."

"Which has given me more than a scare but he's so freakin stubborn." She adds while looking stressed and Owen can't help but imagine all the situations Charlie must have put himself in before.

“I prefer you scared than in danger, beautiful.” He grins and kiss her lips, her facial expresions relaxing at his touch.

“Gross. Y/N, do you prefer a small wedding or a big wedding?” She can feel Charlie tense at the question, so she leans her body back to support it against him and give him a lowkey reassurance.

“I hadn't really thought about it, but I know that my almost mother-in-law has been planning it all her life so you should check with her.”

His mom. Y/N is right, as always. His mom is their biggest shipper and the wedding is probably something she’ll want to be an importart part of, maybe way more than with his brothers since she adores the girl as much as her own kids, and the fact that his girlfriend is even more aware of that fact than him makes him smile.

“Do you love it when someone refers you as ‘her boyfriend’?”

“Always. Especially if it's her. She has that little knack of saying it whenever she can and it’s the most adorable thing in the world.”

“Oh I thought she was just showing it off to me because she was intimidated by our chemistry. I don't feel so special anymore.” Charlie chuckles and sends a secret air kiss to his friend, who just smirks and fakes to blush.

“How would you handle it if you thought another man was hitting on her?” Owen asks the guitarist raising an eyebrow.

“She usually takes care of that situations, her method is to take me by the shirt and kiss me hard on the lips. I’m never going to complain about that.” Charlie says smirking and blushing.

“We are a celebrity couple, for better or for worse. I’m not having him in a fight when I can just kiss that beautiful lips and solve the problem.” Charlie smiles as he wraps his girlfriend in his arms, so she can't see his face with the next question.

“What do you dream of your marriage? Mmm, let’s go with Y/N.”

“Anything will be perfect if I spend it with the man of my life. My Char is my everything and my biggest dream is to live my whole life laughing by his side.” Owen pretends to vomit as Charlie fills her with kisses under the ear, clearly moved by her answer.

“Let’s get to someting less cheesy because I really can’t with you both anymore. Has anyone ever tried to break your relationship?”

Charlie rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment. “Yes. We were like seventeen, and this guy from hockey had this big crush on her, so he tried to flirt with her many times even though everyone knew she was my girlfriend, until one day that he made her too uncomfortable and things escalated between him and me. Luckily my brothers intervened before something else happened because he was much bigger than me. I would have totally lost.” He chuckles while his girlfriend turns to see his face and gives him another sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Yes guys, they are this annoying all the time. How do I survive? A lot of yoga. Next question, If three guys are standing, and you have been blindfolded, then how would you recognize him? Guys we actually did this like three days ago on set.”

“It was awesome! We put my bandana on her eyes and since it had my smell she couldn't be guided by that to choose.” Charlie explains excited.

“We got the three of us, first Jeremy then Charlie and then me in front of her, then she began to lightly touch Jer's hand. Then she went to Charlie's, it didn't take her a minute to recognize him and she took him from the hair and draw him to her lips, it was actually a pretty smooth and risky move, I’ll give you a point for that, prodigy brat.”

“Char's body inadvertently reacts to mine. It was pretty easy to tell the difference, especially after touching Jeremy's hand.” She turns her head to give Charlie a soft kiss on the lips and then Owen starts laughing like crazy and telling her to come see a specific comment.

She gets up and goes to sit next to him, Owen changes the camera so that now they are the ones in the image and she begins to read aloud. “Charlie I could give you my... Oh my god!” Owen continues laughing, resting his head on his friend who simply watches the screen in shock.

“Thank god Charlie doesn’t know how to read.” Owen, who was just recovering from his giggling fit, laughs again as Charlie giggles and sticks his tongue out at his girlfriend.

"Who needs to read when you look this hot with sleeveless shirts." He jokes while winking at his partner, which seems to melt in front of the camera that is still pointing directly at her.

“The man has a point. Okay, Y/N move your ass back there I’m still in charge of this show. Would you prefer a silver or gold ring?”

She makes sure to move off the screen and sticks her middlefinger at Owen before heading back to her place with her boyfriend. “Good and really random question.” She smirks, not making contact with her boyfriend. “I don't have a preference, but I would love Char to design it. Obviously with the correct guidance, but yeah he choosing every detail and then explaining to me why he choose it would be the dream.”

Charlie smiles. He was already imagining something like this after so many years of gifting and has already been visiting the jewelry store several times to make sure he designed the perfect ring for his girl, a slight feeling of pride filling him.

“Which series does she thinks resembles your relationship?”

“She loves Boy Meets World and see a lot of us in Cory and Topanga. I can totally see it too, after all they too have known each other their whole lives and have a bond as strong as ours.”

“Well that explains why she’s always telling me ‘Life is though, get a helmet’ instead of actually help me.” She grins at the memory of Charlie’s last prank on Owen a couple of days ago, it was really good since she secretly helped him plan it.

“Man, It wasn’t personal. I do the same with Char. I’m not going to be known for being the one ruining prank war. Take it to the end of the road, if you need me to take you idiots out of jail I totally will... eventually.”

“My girl, everyone. Isn’t she awesome?” He watches her adoringly and she blushes in response, buring her head on his neck.

“She always has this enormous energy and personality but all it takes is for you to see her for her to melt, that’s... kind of cute actually. Okay next question Stardust, What about If Charlie tells you to marry him tomorrow?”

For the thousandth time that night Y/N can feel Charlie stressing out. The fact that he planned together with Owen and Kenny all of this just to make sure he was on the same page with her is the most adorable thing in the world.

“I’m pretty sure he knows I would always say yes. He could have gotten on a plane when we were 18 and told me ‘I don't want to be without you, let's get married.’ And I would have said yes. He’s my person, I have nothing to think about, I have always known it’s him."

Now it's Charlie's turn to melt, and Owen himself can't help but smile.

Charlie's confidence in what he has planned is higher than ever, and the day when he can finally make it official is near. He has been dreaming of this day with his Y/N for years and he will finally get it.

“Well guys, that was it, give it up to my favorite couple of dumbasses and please stop asking obvious questions. Will I be Y/N’s maid of honor? Of course I will. Oh, and tune in next week to see me becoming Kenny’s new favorite after I challenge Y/N in a dance duel with I got the music. Golden star is GOING DOWN."

Thank you for reading✨

NEXT PART HERE

Taglist: @writerinlearning, @ghostofmgg @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13 , @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1 @lukeys-giggle @katie-navarro @crybabyddl @cocopuffs0211 @marvel-ousnesss @blackhood5sos @dpaccione @tuttigunner

#charlie gillespie fic #charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie x y/n #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie fanfic #charlie gillespie one shot #jatp one shot #jatp fanfic #jatp luke #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x reader #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson fanfiction

[yurtletheturtlehenderson]

Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series

• Ch. 12: Changes •

A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!

Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬

𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧

𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬

𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

              - David Bowie, Changes

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    "I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.

    As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.

    "Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"

    "Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"

    "You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.

    "What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.

    "I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."

    Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.

    He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.

    "You still craving fries?"

    "Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"

    Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.

    "Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"

     "Oh, yeah?"

    "Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"

    "Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"

    "Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"

    Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.

    "If," he continues. "you take me there."

    "Take you there?"

    "Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."

    Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.

    Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"

    Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.

    She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    "You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.

    She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.

    "Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"

    "Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."

    She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.

    It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.

    "I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"

    "Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.

    He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.

    "Three plays for a dollar, huh?"

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.

    "Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"

    "And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"

    Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.

    "Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.

    He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.

    "No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"

    And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.

· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·

    By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.

    Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.

    The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.

    Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.

    The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.

    At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.

    "If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.

    Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"

    Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"

    "Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"

    Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.

    She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.

    "Stuck forever?"

    Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.

    "Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"

    He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.

    Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.

    "You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."

    Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.

"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.

    "I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"

    Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.

    "Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"

    Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.

    Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.

    She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."

    She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"

    Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.

    Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.

    "No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"

    "Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."

    "You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"

    "I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"

    The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.

    "No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."

    "Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"

    "Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.

    In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.

    The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.

    "What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"

    And thus began the best meal they ever had.

- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -

    Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.

    Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.

    "Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.

    Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."

    The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.

    "How's your leg?"

    He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.

    She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.

    "I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.

    Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.

    "Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."

    Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.

    "Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"

    She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.

    "No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.

    Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."

    Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.

    He missed the way things were.

    He missed Y/n.

    He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.

    Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -

    "I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."

    He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?

    Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.

    "Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."

    She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.

    "I know, shrimp,"

    Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.

    "Y/n!"

    He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.

    "I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.

    Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.

    "Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"

     His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -

    Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"

     A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.

    His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.

    It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.

    "I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.

    "You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.

    "Yeah, can you go get me something?"

    "Jesus! What do you need?"

    "Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."

    Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"

    The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"

    Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.

    "I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."

    Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?

    Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.

    "Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."

    Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.

    "Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"

   Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.

    "Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.

    Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.

    "Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.

    "For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"

    Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.

    "A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"

    Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"

    "Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.

    There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.

    Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.

    "So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.

    To his relief, Y/n smiled.

    "It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"

    As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.

    "He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.

    "What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.

    Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.

    So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.

    "Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."

    "You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.

    Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"

    "How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.

    "He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"

    Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.

    "No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"

    Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.

    Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...

    "Thanks, Doctor K,"

     He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."

    A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.

    "I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"

    Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?

    But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."

    "Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.

    "Really, it's okay,"

    But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...

    A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.

    "I'll call you."

    There was hope yet.

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

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[gentrychild]

BNHA chapter 291 reactions

That’s one adorable child and that’s also one horrible way to die.

Not that we’re sure that he actually die, since 1. He is here and living his full theater kid potential. 2. For anyone who is reading BNHA vigilante, you would know that it’s not the first time AFO grabbed a hero student who may or may not have died.

Now, my question is “Where do that lower jaw bone came from?” Can you still extract DNA from something that was practically cremated? If not, does AFO have a room with a bunch of bones that he can drop on his way out?

Also, how old is Touya here? I know he looks younger than he is but is he old enough to be in UA?

I. Need. Answers.

That’s the second kid who got white hair after a ridiculously powerful quirk appeared and I now have other questions.

Such as, will I get a white-haired-Izuku anytime soon?

By the way, can we consider that Tenko and Touya have quirk singularities?

1. I can hear half of the writing community weeping because Touya had red hair. And at least one other person grumbling because Touya changing hair color with the seasons.

2. It’s incredible how tiny Touya doesn’t look like the Touya we know. He had a completely different demeanor.

3. Good to know Endeavor was not always a dick. 

Don’t mind me, I am just fascinated at seeing tiny Touya looking at Baby Fuyumi (while clutching my chest because them being twins is jossed). That’s the most adorable thing I have ever seen.

Also, very relieved to know that Rei agreed to have several kids.

Now, I need to know what happened to make that family collapse.

Touya is wearing different clothes than in the first image so that means he might have some resistance at first but his fire grew too hot for his body.

Now, my question is: how come he couldn’t regulate the temperature of his flames like fire users in his family?

Am I... feeling bad... for Endeavor?

Oh my.

You know, you might have been invited if he had known you were alive.

I love Dabi’s face here. He is such a little shit.

Reminder that they are all stuck here until Shigaraki actually tells Machia to move. 

I don’t know about you but I find it absolutely hilarious that Gigantomachia picked them up, brought them to the most dangerous place in the whole combat zone as the number 1 hero and the craziest hero students around are here, and is now refusing to move.

Honestly? If Dabi wasn’t accidentally holding the floor, they would have been incinerated.

What are you trying to say, Harima Oji? 

Are you a secret Todoroki family member too?

Or did you hear Shigaraki call Izuku little brother and you’re now trying to wrap your mind around everyone around here apparently being related and this war being the messiest Sunday family dinner ever?

I actually wanted to talk about that because this DNA test is absolutely useless. I can assure you that people probably can’t even read those pages and even if they can, it would be just so easily to fake.

Actually, you know what? If Dabi didn’t do that on his computer on his own, I would just be so disappointed because waving a DNA around is just pointless in this situation.

Especially as I don’t see when he had the time to get some blood from the Kyushu fight? He only had the time to take two steps in Endeavor’s direction before running like hell when Miruko arrived (which was a rare sign of common sense, so kudos to him, I guess.)

You hear that sound?

That’s the sound of Dabi destroying his family every chance at being normal once again. Forget all the progress they made, they will now be under public scrutiny forever, everyone having an opinion on their family.

That will wreck them.

And I am not even talking about Rei.

I see that at this point, Dabi is just ending for everyone’s career...

I am just going to stay there and stare at the wall as I am thinking about Dabi broascasting a murder on every screen of the country.

That’s just so disrespectful to Twice. He fought for his friends and instead, Dabi turned his last moment in him desperately pleading.

Also, that was a really dumb move.

Listen here, kids, when you throw a mind-breaking revelation at someone, you stick as close to the truth as possible because if people find anything that doesn’t make sense, your whole story will be doubted.

Also, casual reminder... 

Hawks recorded what was going on. 

That means that if this recording thing is found, they can discredit Dabi’s entire story.

At this point, I am just trying to see if he still has his wings. That’s all I am asking. A confirmation that his feathers will grow back.

Just... stay asleep, Hawks. Rest for a week or two so someone can sort this mess. That’s your best course of action because if you woke up now, you would probably crawl back into a coma.

Was that a bird pun?

Now, that’s just being mean.

I think I remember than in Japan, being related to a criminal is not good, but since BNHA is set in the future, maybe things changed?

If not, I am curious to see how this revelation will affect Hawks. You know, just for sociological purposes.

*hangs on to Izuku who is related to the worst villain this country had ever know, and who actually destroyed Kamino and almost murdered All Might not too long ago*

*squints as I am trying to know what they are advertising*

Dabi: “Think more critically! Try to see things through my point of view, right after I admitted I killed 30 people!”

Reminder that the OG group who fought Shigaraki sacrificed everything to stall him, they are half dead, and they are now facing the end of their society as they know it.

That’s what despair looks like.

Be careful what you wish for, Todoroki Enji.

Shouto is just breaking my heart right now. This is a nightmare. He is the boy who made sure that they were alone when he told Midoriya about his family history. He is the boy who was just started to consider forgiving his father, or at the very least, working so their family would be happy. Things were starting to get better, and now, he has to deal with imminent death, his, his friends and his father.

He isn’t even asking Endeavor to fight Dabi. He will do it. He must know that Nejire and him simply can’t win against the LoV and Gigantomachia but it’s not like there is anyone else.

Everyone is down and right now, the number 1 hero is too shocked to even blink, and if he doesn’t pull himself together in the next second, they are going to die.

Damnit, Shouto actually called him father.

Hey, remember that attack that incinerated a noumu with Regeneration? That attack that Endeavor had to use high in the sky or the collateral damage would have been hellish, in every sense of the word?

Yeah, they almost all died right there.

WE STAN ONE HERO.

BEAST JEANIST, BACK FROM THE DEAD, READY TO JUDGE DABI FOR HIS CRIMES AGAINST FASHION (and also the war crimes, if you insist). 

THAT’S WHY YOU FACT CHECK EVERYTHING, DABI. SO YOU DON’T LOOK LIKE AN IMBECILE AFTER YOU ACCUSED THE NUMBER 2 HERO OF KILLING THE MOST FABULOUS MAN OF THE COUNTRY.

#bnha 291 #bnha spoilers #bnha #bnha reactions

[sachigram]

“With Teeth” Chapter 5

((click here to read on ao3!!))

Izaya is frowning down at his computer, his hands hovering above the keys of his keyboard, not moving. Next to him, Namie is typing away, a bemused little smirk on her face. She's enjoying this, clearly, and she's itching to say something biting.

“You're handling this better than I thought you would,” she says, her tone forcibly bored. Izaya blinks at her, lifting his hand to motion for her to continue. “Your little monster friend has a girlfriend now. He'll have less time for you, right? I assumed you'd be setting fires across the city by now.”

“You know what they say about assuming,” Izaya says breezily. “If anything, she's distracting him enough to leave me be.”

The chatroom is full of people chattering away about Shizuo and Vorona, who are spending a lot of time together, holding hands, exchanging glances, sharing beverages. It's sickening. Izaya feels vaguely nauseous just reading about it, but he thinks that's probably due to his insane schedule at the moment, and his lack of sleep. He keeps meaning to take a healing potion, but he forgets every time.

“Distracting. Right.” Namie types another response, fanning the flames of all the rumors circulating about Ikebukuro's hottest couple. Her smirk drops, and Izaya can't resist the temptation to dip into her mind, just a little, to see why she isn't enjoying this as much as she thought she would.

She's thinking of Seiji, of course, but also of Mika, and of Celty's head, and all the times she's been overlooked in favor of someone else. She thinks Shizuo dating Vorona is distasteful, because she's set on the idea that Shizuo must be fucking Izaya, and that's why he comes by so often. Izaya withholds a snort at that, and he graciously doesn't comment on the fact that Namie could probably have anyone she wanted, if she wasn't so obsessed with her own brother.

“Who cares, anyway?” Namie asks, closing her laptop. “The two of them together probably have conversations as interesting as watching paint dry. It's not worth even talking about anymore.”

“I couldn't agree more,” Izaya says, pushing away from his desk. He tilts his head at her. “Let's order out for dinner. My treat.”

“In that case, I'm craving something expensive.”

“Of course you are.”

***

Izaya is watching the sunset from a small window when he realizes he must have fallen asleep. He isn't at home anymore, and this is beginning to feel like the kind of dream he's been dreading to have lately, one where he knows Shizuo will show up at some point.

“Who are you?” A child's voice asks from behind him. Izaya turns, looking down at Shizuo, who is in a hospital bed, his arms wrapped, a brace around his neck. He's frowning up at Izaya, who sighs loudly before plopping into the vacant chair next to the bed.

“Oh, why does it even matter? You won't call me by my name anyway.” Izaya pulls his knees up to his chest and studies Shizuo closely. “You're here alone?”

“My family just left.” Shizuo looks up at the ceiling, seeming to decide that Izaya isn't a threat to him. “They used to stay with me a lot, but this happens all the time now, so they can't stick around as much.”

“I see.”

“I'll only be here one night anyway.”

“So who was it this time? Was it another fight?” Izaya asks.

“It's not like I wanted to fight.” Shizuo's eyebrow twitches. “I threw a swingset.”

“A swingset?”

“Yeah, but apparently it was bolted into the ground or something. Really fucked me up.”

Izaya can't help it. He laughs hard, curling into himself as he does so.

“Hey, fuck you, it isn't funny!” Shizuo snaps, but he seems to be trying not to laugh himself. “Well, maybe it was a little. The look on their faces was pretty funny.”

“Did you at least manage to hit them?” Izaya asks, still giggling at the mental image.

“No. Turns out all the time I spent lifting it gave them some time to escape.”

Izaya laughs harder. When was the last time he found something this genuinely funny? Lately all he does is work until he passes out, and he deserves it, he knows. Still, as he feels tears stinging the corner of his eyes, he thinks he feels good now, here with this kid version of Ikebukuro's monster. There doesn't seem to be anything else to do but talk to him, and their dreams keep connecting them no matter what Izaya does. He's tired of fighting it.

Shizuo is gazing at him with poorly concealed awe and wonder.

Pretty.

Izaya snorts at Shizuo's thought. What's so pretty about this scene right now? The sunset outside? The various machines hooked to Shizuo, beeping idly in the background? Shizuo keeps looking at him, and Izaya realizes, feels his face grow hot.

“Who are you?” Shizuo asks again.

“Your worst enemy.”

“Really? You don't seem all that bad.” Shizuo shifts a bit, winces. “You're not scared of me, are you?”

“Not now, not ever.”

Shizuo nods, and his lip wobbles. “People tell me all the time they aren't scared of me, but I know they are, deep down. How could they not be? They'd have to be crazy. But...” Shizuo chokes up, laughs a little. “I can tell you mean it. And if that makes you crazy, I think that's okay, because it feels good to not be feared, for once.”

Izaya lowers his legs, leaning closer to the bed. He idly touches the flimsy fabric of the blanket draped over Shizuo, who is watching him curiously. Izaya looks away.

“Sometimes you're so pathetically simple it makes me want to vomit. Sometimes it feels like a chore, hating you. Did you know that?” Izaya asks softly, and there's a long pause after his words, no sounds aside from their breathing. Even the machines have somehow gone quiet.

“So then why do you?” Shizuo asks at last.

“Isn't it funny that it's been so long of us hating each other that I forgot what caused it in the first place? I think you did, too.” Izaya crosses his arms over the bed, puts his head down. “People like us will always be at each other's throats. It's just the way it is.”

“You sound like a grownup,” Shizuo says, glaring now. “They always say that, when they don't know the answer to something. 'It's just the way it is.' If you don't know, then why does it matter in the first place?”

“Believe it or not, I am a grownup. I'm only a kid right now because you're one, too. We're always the same age in these dreams, even if only one of us remembers the future at a time.” Izaya lifts his head enough to grin at Shizuo, who blushes and immediately turns away. He seems to be trying to gather the courage to say something, but there's suddenly a knock at the door, and Izaya turns towards it. “Expecting someone else?”

“Huh?”

“There's knocking.”

“I don't hear anything.”

Izaya stands. “Oh. This may be in real life. I think I'm waking up.”

“Waking up? Does that mean leaving?” Shizuo's eyes look panicked. “When will you be back?”

“I never know. Why do you keep wanting to see me so badly? You're the one pulling me back here, you have to be.” The room starts to grow fuzzy as the dreamscape begins to fall apart around them.

“You're not scared of me. You laughed at me instead of running— Fuck!” Shizuo seems to be trying to get up to grab Izaya, but he can't with his arms bandaged. “Tell me your name so I can find you again!”

“You'll just call me a flea anyway, won't you? So it doesn't matter.”

***

Izaya opens his eyes to discover he passed out at his desk at some point. He sits up and frowns at the container of pasta next to him. He remembers ordering dinner for himself and Namie, and then...

“Ugh. Of course she just left,” Izaya mutters to himself. Namie is an opportunist if nothing else. She isn't the type to stick around and see what happens next, unlike Izaya. Another knock sounds at the door. “Who is it?” Izaya calls, feeling sluggish. He checks his phone to find he's been asleep for about two hours.

“Me!” Shinra's voice replies, muffled from the door. “Let me in, would you? I've been knocking forever!”

Grumbling, Izaya makes his way across the room, opening it for Shinra, who waltzes inside like he owns the place.

“Hi! I'm working late tonight, and I didn't have time to eat dinner before I left, so I figured while I was in Shinjuku I could come see what you had—“ Shinra stops talking and tilts his head to the side, observing Izaya. “You look awful. What have you been up to?”

“Also working,” Izaya says. He reaches up to wipe crusted drool from the corner of his mouth. “So you came to raid my fridge?”

“Ah, yes!” Shinra turns and continues his march to the kitchen. “I just got done with an emergency call, and next I'll be going to visit another patient. I didn't want fast food, so here I am! Did Yagiri-san make anything?”

“Should be leftovers somewhere around here.” Izaya looks back at his own pasta, feels his stomach rumble. He can't remember the last time he really ate or slept fully.

“Why don't we eat something together?” Shinra asks. “You look ready to fall over.”

Izaya ends up tossing the pasta. It was congealed together, and not very good in the first place. Namie picked the place to order from, but he'll definitely complain enough about it later to where they don't order from there again. Shinra actually goes through the trouble of throwing together some fried rice, because Izaya doesn't have the ingredients for much else. He'll have to send Namie for groceries.

“So what are you working on so religiously, anyway?” Shinra asks as they sit down. “I haven't seen you this absorbed in work for a while.”

“It's not just one assignment, but multiple. All of them are due around the same time.” Izaya eats a bite of rice and shrugs. “It's just poor timing.”

“More than that though, right? I heard Shiki-san was pissed at you for multiple reasons. Sounds like he's keeping you overloaded on purpose.” Shinra smirks at him. “You can never leave well-enough alone, Izaya-kun.”

“'Well-enough',” Izaya scoffs. “If he had his way, I'd be locked in a cage, of use only to him and his little cronies.”

“That's what you signed up for. You'll get yourself killed if you keep meddling. I mean, come on, Akane-chan? What did you think would happen by sending her off on her own like that?”

“Who says I was behind any of that? Akane-chan has a smartphone. Kids like her are always going to be involved in things, because they want better than they're given.”

“I don't believe you, and I know Shiki-san doesn't, either. It's clear he's punishing you, but...” Shinra leans closer, lowers his voice like he thinks Shiki is in the next room. “To be honest, I thought you'd have it way worse than this. You ordered Shizuo-kun's attack too, didn't you? I thought Shiki-san would hang you upside-down.”

“Again, Shinra, you're reaching way too far. I never said I was responsible for Shizu-chan either.”

Shinra pouts, and then sits back in his chair, shoveling down more rice. “Fine. Don't tell me. Just take better care of yourself, at any rate. It's not like you can't cure the effects of fatigue with your power. You're choosing to suffer, right? But then again, you've always been like that.”

“Don't you have another appointment soon?” Izaya asks, annoyed by Shinra and his big mouth. He's often wondered if friendship is supposed to be this exhausting, but it isn't like he has anything else to compare it to. Shinra was always the only one crazy enough to stick around.

“I'm only saying. You should accept your punishments and actually learn something from them every now and then. It seems like you just bounce back, more determined to make a nuisance of yourself than before.”

“If I don't make a nuisance of myself, I'll die from boredom,” Izaya lilts. “It's really that simple.”

“More like you're worried about being forgotten.”

Izaya resists the urge to throw something at Shinra, who is wearing a strange expression, something akin to actual concern.

“You've improved on your acting ability,” Izaya says, pushing away from the table. “Don't act friendly towards me now. It doesn't suit you.”

“I am your friend,” Shinra insists. “I'm the only one you've got, so maybe you should listen to me once in a while.”

“It always goes back to Celty anyway. What, are you worried I'm going to use her for something too dangerous?”

“Celty agrees with me that it's unusual for you to allow Shizuo-kun to be in your space as you have. Are you actually feeling guilty?”

“Are you?” Izaya stands and grabs a bottle of red wine from his counter before he pads over to his desk. “I don't have the time for this, Shinra. See yourself out when you're ready to go.”

Shinra sighs loudly, finishes his dinner, and picks up his briefcase. He walks towards the door.

“Take care of yourself, Izaya-kun. If you even know how to.”

Izaya uses his magic to slam the door shut behind Shinra, and then he drinks until he passes out.

***

He wakes hours later, in bed somehow.

Groaning, he sits up, trying to remember the night before. His mouth feels like cotton, and his head feels like it's trying to split itself open. He thinks he may throw up at some point in the very near future.

“Feeling better?” Tsukumoya asks from beside him. The shades are drawn closed, and the room is still dark despite the sun being out. Izaya glares at the vampire in his space.

“Why are you here?” he croaks.

“You don't remember? You invited me. We fucked.” Tsukumoya has his laptop, and is typing ridiculously fast even as he speaks. “It was quite the evening.”

“I'm serious. You just keep popping up. It's annoying.”

“Mm. I had a feeling you were being your usual destructive self. There's water for you on your nightstand.”

Izaya reaches next to him, grabs the glass before chugging it. His stomach immediately churns dangerously in protest.

“Why not take a healing potion? I know you have plenty of them,” Tsukumoya says, still not looking at him.

“Don't need it.”

“Right, you don't. The great Orihara Izaya doesn't need anything or anyone, how could I forget?” Tsukumoya finally glances over at him. “You might need to reconsider. Tonight's the night of the full moon. You'll need to be alert when your puppy visits.”

“Fuck, is it? I forgot all about it.” Izaya groans and flops back into the bed, rolling away from the annoying vampire in his space. “You weren't supposed to come until tomorrow.”

“Stop complaining so much. Do you need more water?”

Grumbling, Izaya tries to piece together the night before. He drank too much, he remembers that. Shinra was being annoying. He definitely fell asleep at his desk, meaning Tsukumoya carried him to bed.

“We didn't really fuck, did we?” Izaya asks.

“No. Did you want to?” Tsukumoya's voice is annoyingly smug. “I wouldn't be opposed.”

Izaya snorts and closes his eyes, wills the room to stop spinning. “Don't flatter yourself. You're not my type.”

“I'm not? Here I thought you had a thing for monsters.”

Izaya considers throwing Tsukumoya across the room, but that would be rising to the stupid teasing, and it would require more effort than he currently wants to exert. He stays where he is, listening to the sound of Tsukumoya's fingers on the keys.

“You're being especially pitiful lately, Izaya,” Tsukumoya says after a while. “So you've lost control of your little game, so what? Maybe you should think of what to do next instead of working to the point of exhaustion. You know I hate it when you're predictable.”

“Why does it matter what I do? I'm trapped.”

Tsukumoya sighs. “Yes, you are. And what are you going to do about it?”

“Right now, I'm going to be miserably hungover. Next, who knows? It'll surprise us both.”

“If only I found you sooner.” Tsukumoya goes back to typing. “The things you could've done. Humans are always finding ways to control what they don't understand or fear. But now, you can only help yourself. If you believe you're going to be trapped forever, they've already won.”

“I know that.” Izaya thinks of the work assignments that aren't ever going to stop, and he thinks of Akane, of Shizuo. He knows he went too far, but he has to go even further still.

Tsukumoya seems like he wants to say more, but he pauses, and the typing stops once more.

“You really might want to take that potion now,” he says. “One of your executives is on his way here.”

***

Izaya does not take the potion, and when he answers his door, it's with a slightly green complexion. Akabayashi takes one look at him, and promptly bursts into laughter.

“Oh, wow. And I thought I drank too much. You look awful, brat.” Akabayashi invites himself inside, stepping around Izaya. “I'm doing a wellness check on behalf of the boss. You understand, right?”

“Seems like I have more people in my life than I thought,” Izaya says, closing the door before moving to his couch. “This is my third wellness check.”

“Hard to believe a roach like you has friends, but then again, this city has an infestation. You missed a deadline today.”

“I got a little carried away last night. I've been in bed all day.”

“But you answered the door fully dressed, like you've been up and about,” Akabayashi presses.

“I sensed you coming,” Izaya lies.

Akabayashi hums in thought, and he grins menacingly. “Ya know, I ran into Heiwajima the other day at Sunshine. He seemed really interested in who bit him and why.”

“You should tell him,” Izaya says. “If anything, it would get him off my back for a while.”

“Oh, don't act innocent. We all know who made the phone call that started everything.”

“Clearly what I want doesn't matter. You've made that abundantly clear.”

Akabayashi walks closer to the couch, and he leans closer to Izaya. “Watch yourself, kid. Just because you haven't been caught in the act yet doesn't mean we don't know you're guilty. That magic of yours will only get you so far with us.”

“If your power spans so far, you shouldn't be worried about what I did or didn't do. If you really knew I was guilty, you'd have killed me by now,” Izaya says.

“Assuming monsters like you actually have enough humanity left to die.”

“Why don't we both find out?”

They glare at each other, and Izaya can sense from Akabayashi that the executive would like nothing more than to tear him limb from limb, but he won't. It would be against Shiki's wishes, and as much as Akabayashi hates it, he has to follow orders, or he'll be next on the chopping block. He takes another step towards the couch, but before he can do or say anything, the door slams open with such force that it bangs against the wall and cracks it.

“Hello, Shizu-chan,” Izaya calls without breaking eye-contact with Akabayashi. “Entertain yourself for a moment, will you?”

“What the fuck is this?” Shizuo asks. He growls when he notices Akabayashi. “Oi! I still have questions for you, asshole!”

“I'm sure you do,” Akabayashi says, standing up straight again. He grins at Shizuo. “I can't answer 'em for you, though. Sorry about that.”

“I could always beat it out of you,” Shizuo says, cracking his knuckles. “I'm even stronger than I used to be, since you bastards made me into a monster.”

“You wouldn't get far. I'd relax, if I were you.” Akabayashi turns back to Izaya. “Get to work, brat. Shiki's only so forgiving.” With that, he turns on his heel, and goes towards the door. Shizuo makes to stop him, but Izaya lifts his hand and summons Shizuo backwards, towards the couch.

“What the fuck!” Shizuo shouts, fighting it. “Let me go!”

“Don't make me exert myself, Shizu-chan. I'm having a rough day,” Izaya says. Shizuo turns and glowers at him, but his features soften.

“What's wrong with you? Are you sick?”

“Yes.” The door opens and closes, and Izaya knows he's alone with Shizuo once more. “You didn't knock this time.”

“Didn't think I needed to. It's not like you weren't expecting me.” Shizuo leans down, scrutinizes Izaya. “You're hungover.”

“Don't read my mind,” Izaya huffs, curling into himself.

“I didn't. You reek of alcohol.”

Grumbling, Izaya summons a blanket and throws it over himself. He doesn't know if he prefers Tsukumoya's company to Shizuo's, but at the moment, he thinks he'd rather deal with the vampire. At least for a little bit.

What a messy flea. Shizuo thinks, and then he walks away from the couch. There's the sound of him sifting through the fridge, but there isn't anything for him to find. Namie had the day off, and Shinra cooked what little was available the night before.

“You might have to order out,” Izaya calls. “You have a couple of hours before sunset.”

Shizuo growls loudly, thinks something about Izaya being useless, and then pulls out his phone. Izaya stays where he is and doesn't move, enjoys the silence for a few moments before it's ultimately shattered by Shizuo, who is suddenly sitting on the couch near Izaya, but still far enough to where they're both comfortable.

“I ordered pizza,” Shizuo says, and he leans back against the couch cushions. “You should foot the bill.”

“If you wanted me to pay, you could've ordered something better,” Izaya replies.

“Nah, everywhere else would've taken too long. Pizza is fast and easy.”

Izaya watches sleepily as Shizuo picks up the remote and turns the TV on, flipping through a few channels before settling on a soap opera. It should feel weird, sitting here with Shizuo, watching a woman sob because she caught her husband having an affair, but it really doesn't feel weird at all. Maybe Izaya is too tired to feel one way or another about it, or maybe their strange mental link has done the majority of the work in making them civil towards one another. Either way, Izaya feels comfortable enough to let his guard down a little, and it's an instant relief, like setting down something immensely heavy.

“So, I don't get it. Why are you just sitting here feeling like shit when you can heal yourself easily enough?” Shizuo is still looking at the screen, but he's back to poking around in Izaya's head, whether he knows he's doing it or not.

“Shut up, Shizu-chan,” Izaya says without any real bite.

“Oh. You just want to feel bad. Seems like a stupid thing for someone who's supposed to be some kind of genius, but whatever.”

The woman on screen is confronting her husband's mistress, and it winds up in a fist fight on a balcony. Izaya snorts when the mistress is pushed off to her death. How predictable. Shizuo is scowling at the TV, but he's thinking about his shared dreams with Izaya, and also about some images he's been seeing through Izaya's side of the link. He's also thinking about Shinra, who apparently ran into Shizuo last night after his last appointment. Shinra seemed worried about Izaya.

He's a good actor. Izaya sends. He always has been.

I don't think he was acting. You look worse than you normally do.

I'm hungover, as you so aptly put it. You being in my head isn't helping me feel better.

“I'm not doing it on purpose!” Shizuo snaps, and the sudden loudness has Izaya flinching. “I don't get why it's happening either, okay? I'm only just now starting to believe it's not actually you doing it.”

Because you've seemed like such a mess ever since it started. Shizuo thinks, and Izaya grinds his teeth in frustration.

“I'm not a mess.”

“What did that guy want?” Shizuo asks, changing the subject abruptly.

“Akabayashi-san stops by from time to time to threaten me. It's a pastime for him.” Izaya is starting to feel nauseous again, so he closes his eyes and wills it to go away.

“Don't you work for him, though?”

“I don't work for anybody. I'm a freelance informant for hire, and I give the organization he's part of information when they pay me for it, same as anyone else.”

Shizuo frowns, thinks something biting about Izaya working for the Yakuza. “He seemed like he wanted to hurt you.”

“Oh, he does. They all do,” Izaya says. “They'd kill me if they could.”

Shizuo doesn't like that he has something in common with the Yakuza. He grimaces before he says, “So what? You're just too strong to die or some shit?”

“No,” Izaya replies. “I'm just too important for them do dispose of. I'm part of the reason they're as powerful as they are, and they know it, even if they hate it, even if they hate me. I'm the strongest tool in their arsenal. Killing me would be crippling themselves.”

Silence follows Izaya's words. Shizuo's mind is a whirlwind now, thinking so many things at once, all laced with rage. He doesn't like anything about what Izaya said, the way it was said so flippantly, the way Izaya doesn't seem to mind. Shizuo doesn't like that Izaya thinks of himself as a tool, as something other than human, even if it might be true. Shizuo doesn't want to think of himself as other than human, either.

Shizuo doesn't seem to do well with the truth.

“That isn't true,” Shizuo growls, no doubt in response to Izaya's thoughts. “You're a person. I'm a person. We're other things too, but whatever we are, we're human first. You said so yourself, right? You can die, you can be killed. You're human enough to die.”

“I'm telling you this once, and once only, beast,” Izaya murmurs, opening his eyes to glare at the TV as he speaks. “It would be the exact same as breaking a screwdriver, or losing your favorite toy. If I died, that would be it. They would just replace me. They want to, and they would if they could, but I'm one of the last of my kind, and I'm definitely the most powerful one left. I don't care about it, because I've always known I was only useful for what I knew and what I could do. If you're going to be hated, you damn well better be useful. That's the way it is.”

“Fuck that!” Shizuo yells, and he stands, his hands clenched into fists. “What the hell are you talking about? You think it's okay to sit here and feel sorry for yourself, like you didn't have a hand in being the hated little rat you are? You think it's just because of your magic? You're the one deciding to do the shitty things you do. People hate you. If they knew you were a witch, whatever, maybe some of them would hate you more, but it's only because they hate you already. Get the fuck over yourself.”

Izaya laughs, delighted at the outburst. Doing so hurts his head, and his vision swims. This is pitiful, isn't it? Feeling useless, being forced to lie back and swallow vomit just so no one else can ask anything more of him. If he's a tool, he's a damaged one, and every time he's human, he dulls himself a little more. If this is a game to be played, and his opponents have the winning hand, Izaya will make sure none of them win. He'll destroy himself if he has to. He'll destroy everything.

“Trust me, Shizu-chan,” he croaks, “I know they would've hated me either way. The difference between us is you're searching so hard for a place to belong, and I've accepted long ago that it doesn't exist. Now would you kindly shut the fuck up? My head hurts.”

Shizuo is seething, his breaths labored as he works to calm himself down. He wants to lift Izaya up and shake him until his head pops off. Then Shizuo wants to tear apart everything in the apartment, maybe go punch Akabayashi for good measure. He hates that he sees the reasoning in Izaya's words. He hates himself, and he hates Izaya more than anything else.

“Get out of my head,” Shizuo grits out.

“I'm trying,” Izaya says, and he leaves it at that.

They lapse back into silence, and when Shizuo flops back onto the couch, his brow is furrowed, his jaw set. It's clear he isn't going to let this go, but he at least doesn't want to be in a terrible mood before his transformation. The bloodlust is worse when he's angry. He has to keep reminding himself that Izaya is a liar, first and foremost. Izaya uses words to protect himself, and Shizuo doesn't have to, and won't, ever do the same.

“Well, isn't this cozy?” Tsukumoya's voice asks as he walks down the stairs. He's wearing a hood, covering himself from the weakening rays of sun that still shine through the windows.

“I thought you left,” Izaya calls as Shizuo whirls to growl at the vampire.

“I was going to, but I figured I'd stick around to make sure you didn't die,” Tsukumoya says. He smirks at the scene of Shizuo and Izaya sitting together almost peacefully, watching trash TV in silence. “I wondered how your nights with the puppy went. I suppose I can see for myself now.”

“Why the fuck are you here?!” Shizuo barks, and then he whirls to face Izaya. “Does he always just pop up like this?”

“Not always,” Izaya says. “He stayed the night.”

“What?”

“Relax, Heiwajima-san. Rest assured, I didn't touch him.” Tsukumoya flounces past the couch while Shizuo's face turns a variety of fun colors. “At least, not much.”

Shizuo stands from the couch, and Izaya sighs loudly.

“Don't you have anything better to do?” he asks Tsukumoya, who is still looking at Shizuo appraisingly.

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. I trust you won't drink yourself stupid a second night in a row?” Tsukumoya says, looking at Izaya.

“I don't have the luxury tonight,” Izaya answers.

“Right, you're puppy-sitting.”

“Do you mean me, you fucking—“ Shizuo starts, and he barrels towards Tsukumoya, who easily side-steps him.

“Make sure you eat something at some point,” Tsukumoya calls to Izaya. “That pizza will help you feel better.”

“I don't want it,” Izaya grumbles, covering his head with the blanket. He hates both of the people in his space right now, and he just wants to sleep.

You must be making a conscious effort to not heal yourself if you're still this sick over a hangover. Tsukumoya's voice sounds in Izaya's head. Is this really helping anything?

Yes. Izaya can't escape either of them, can he? They're both annoyingly perceptive and persistent. He can feel fondness radiating from Tsukumoya, but it's quickly being overshadowed by the amount of fury pouring from Shizuo, who is clearly listening to their mental conversation.

“Your pizza is here,” Tsukumoya says, and the knock comes a moment later. “Make sure he eats something, please,” he says to Shizuo, and then he vanishes before anything else can be said.

***

Shizuo scarfs down the entire pizza at breakneck speed, once or twice trying to get Izaya to accept a slice before giving up. He doesn't care if Izaya eats or not, and he doesn't care if Izaya feels sick or not. Shizuo's mood increases as he eats, and by the time he's finished, he's as mellow as he ever is while sharing a space with his mortal enemy.

Izaya, for his part, is starting to feel a little better. His stomach rumbles a bit at the scent of the pizza, but his appetite wanes at the grotesquely barbaric way Shizuo eats. It seems worse than usual, more...animalistic.

In fact...something seems off about Shizuo, even for a full moon. Maybe something happened earlier, or maybe Shizuo just went too long without eating until now, but Izaya can sense the bloodlust permeating from Shizuo like a miasma.

“Shizu-chan,” Izaya says, slowly sitting up to level his gaze at his unwanted guest. “Have you taken your potion?”

“Huh? Of course I have,” Shizuo replies. His hair is glowing from the fading rays of the sun as it descends behind the tall buildings outside.

“Have you taken it exactly as you should, the way I instructed?” Izaya asks through clenched teeth, already knowing the answer.

“Well— I drank it all a couple of days ago. I spent all day with Vorona, and I didn't want—“ Shizuo pauses at the look on Izaya's face. “What? What did I do wrong? You said to take it all before the full moon, and I did!”

“I told you to drink it every day, bit by bit, and to finish it before the full moon. The exact way you've done every month until now, because you're so pathetic in the presence of that woman that you can't follow basic fucking instructions!” Izaya snaps, and Shizuo's eyes widen.

He looks scared. Shizuo thinks, and then a beat later, Oh fuck. He's scared of me.

“Izaya, I—“ Shizuo begins, and then his hands grip his knees as his body begins to shake. The sun's rays fade at last, bathing them in twilight. “I feel...wrong.”

Izaya stands from the couch, the room spinning as he does. He's not at his full power. Even if he weren't hungover, he hasn't been eating or sleeping the way he should, buried in work as he is, and reluctant to care for himself as ever. He starts towards the stairs, in search of the healing potion he should have taken earlier, but he knows it's already far too late, as Shizuo's body is already beginning to crack and twist, and his mind is already gone, replaced by that of a true monster.

“Shizu-chan, you're such a fucking idiot,” Izaya hisses, and his sentence is barely finished before Shizuo is lunging at him, aiming for his throat.

#with teeth fic #shizaya #Izaya Orihara #Shizuo Heiwajima #witchy izaya #werewolf shizuo #shit goes down and also apparently people like Tsukumoya pestering Izaya so I added more of that

[wrenhyperfixates]

The Raven Haired Rebel

Chapter 4

Pairing: Loki x reader Series Summary: After invading New York, it was decided that, as a punishment, Loki would work for SHIELD. Yeah, right. After escaping from their custody and stranded on Midgard, the God of Mischief decides to prove he’s the one thing no one ever thought he was: the good guy. Now a vigilante, Loki attempts to make amends for his past wrongdoings while also evading the Avengers, including their newest member. You. Brought in specially for the case, you notice more and more details about the prince’s story don’t add up. When you get the chance to turn him in, will you listen to your employers or your heart that believes Loki’s done nothing wrong? Chapter Summary: In which Loki and you make a breakthrough. Chapter Warnings: none I believe A/N: Happy reading folks :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedficrecs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90​ @myraiswack​ @mythicalgarlicknot​ @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely​ @laurenandloki​ @fallinallinmendes​ @sophlubbwriting​ @mooncat163​ @lokislittlesigyn​

RHR Tag List: @happygalaxymilkshake​ @electroma89​ @stardust-walker​ @i-would-kneel-for-loki​ @fredweasleyandlokiaremylife​ @aestheticallyholland​

Masterlist 

Disclaimer: Gif not mine

Loki had insisted on moving again before your team got to work. The team, of course, was really just you and him, but he liked the sound of it. Of having a whole little group to belong to. But, in reality, he didn’t. He had you, at least, and that was enough for now. Quite possibly for forever, if he were to be honest. After all, everyone always says it's better to have one true friend than a million who don’t care for you at all. Growing up, he’d had plenty of sycophants attach themselves to his hip, only to ignore him once they got close with Thor. That was before everyone decided Loki wasn’t even worth their time. The lonely, brooding sorcerer prince of Asgard deemed too unimportant to even use as a gateway to greater things.

You, however, were different; Loki could tell. Truly, you had nothing to gain and everything to lose by aligning yourself with him. Yet there you were, listening with rapt attention and big eyes, clinging to his every word. That was why his latest choice of motel was nicer than the previous one. He felt like you deserved it. The fact that there was only one bed was not his doing, he swore on his life. Alas, that was all that was available. He’d offered to take the floor so you could have it to yourself, but you insisted on sharing. And with all your stubbornness, who was he to resist?

Now, that’s not to say there weren’t problems with the set-up because there most certainly were. Like the fact that on the first night, despite falling asleep with his back toward you, he woke up facing you, an arm lazily wrapped around your waist. He could tell your sleep was feigned, an act he assumed was out of consideration for him so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. He’d whipped his arm away as quick as he could, rolling onto his back, the act making you open your eyes and blink innocently at him.

“You know,” you’d said, sleep still in the edges of your voice. “I really didn’t mind.”

“Thank you,” he’d cleared his throat. “But you do not have to say that just for my sake.”

You’d splayed a hand on his chest and leaned your body over his, making his heart stutter in his chest. “I’m not. I mean it.”

Before he could think of some reply- which with the way things were going, honestly could have been kissing you—you moved away from him. He laid there for a bit longer as you fixed yourself a breakfast of cereal. You put together a bowl for him, too, leaving it on his nightstand. Even that he did not touch for a bit, too lost in thought. He hadn’t been in touch with his emotions for quite some time. Now when he needed to most, he hoped he could be again.

Whether he understood his feelings or not, he stopped pulling away in the mornings. Because, yes, without fail, every time he woke up his arm was around you. You kept snuggling closer every night too; just that day he’d woken up to your head resting on his shoulder. He’d adjusted his haphazard grip on your body to hold you closer, tighter. It was a secure little bubble for the two of you to relish in, away from all the troubles of the world. How Loki wished he never had to leave it. Sadly, there was work to be done.

Currently, you were trying to find AIM’s secret headquarters. Loki was flipping through the files of intel he’d compiled, and you were tapping away on that computer device you had. You’d tried to explain how to use it, but it was lost on Loki. He promised to try again once you had more time. Which was odd, he thought, that you’d want to stick around him even after all this was over.

He wasn’t even exactly sure what he was going to do once his name was cleared. He didn’t particularly want to join SHIELD, though he felt that’s what you had in mind. So even if he didn’t agree to becoming the other half to a top secret crime fighting duo with you, would you still want to stay with him? What if he wanted to keep up this rebel, vigilante lifestyle? Would you keep traveling with him? He was pretty sure he’d miss you if you didn’t.

One thing he wouldn’t miss, however, was the fact you decided to put the TV on. The incessant blathering coming from the screen was beginning to annoy him. He’d tolerated it the whole week you’d spent together, but it was really getting on his last nerve now.

“Darling? Would you mind turning that off?” he asked.

“Do I have to?” you pouted. “I think better with the background noise.”

He walked over to the counter you were sitting on, going to grab the remote. You picked it up before he could and held it above your head so he couldn’t reach it. Unfortunately, even with the boost your perch on the countertop provided, he was devastatingly tall. You tried moving it back behind you a bit, too, but after a quick struggle, he seized it from your grasp with a smirk, hitting the power button.

“So some music then?” you asked with a grin.

“How about some peace and quiet?” he chuckled.

You playfully sighed. “Only for you.”

He hadn’t realized it during your little game, but he was standing between your legs so that they were wrapped around him a little. He knew it should have been oh so easy just to move away, yet he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Your fingers began to run through his hair as he stood there, the tenderness startling him.

“What are you doing?” he puzzled when you stopped for a minute, only to start massaging his scalp.

“You seem stressed,” you shrugged, hesitating for a moment but ultimately deciding to continue. “Is this alright?”

“Yes,” he sighed in relief as he allowed tension to leave his body. “It is perfect.”

When you finished, ending by smoothing his mussed hair back down, he rested his head on your shoulder, eyes hidden in the crook of your neck. His arms wrapped around your waist and you held him back, contentedly humming your approval. It was dangerous that he felt so attached to you, he thought. He was also surprisingly worried for you, but he could write that off in his mind as he felt like he was in your debt, something he didn’t like being in to anyone. The only way he felt certain he could repay it was by keeping you safe.

“Are you certain they will not find us, darling?” he checked. “That we should not move again?”

“We’re practically hiding in plain sight, and we haven’t really been out of this room in a week. We’ll be alright,” you assured him.

“Ok,” he acquiesced, though he was ready to protect you at any cost. His clever little darling mortal. But before he could analyze what all that really meant, something else occurred to him. “Wait a minute, that is it! Hiding in plain sight.”

You cocked your head at him as he pulled away a bit so he could look at you. “You mean... AIM is hiding in plain sight. Of course! Why didn’t we think of that sooner?”

“Well, it is just an idea. After all, we have checked their active facilities and found no suspicious activity there.”

“Good point,” you mused, going back to your computer. “But what about a site that’s not up and running yet?”

Loki looked on at the screen as you ran a few algorithms. He must admit, he was rather impressed as you quickly narrowed the options down location by location until only one was left.

“Here,” you said, turning the device so he could see it easier. “A new facility they’ve been ‘remodeling’ to make it the latest branch. But look when they bought it and started renovations; just a little over three months ago.”

“Which corresponds with the spike in their activity,” Loki caught on to your point. He took your hand and led you over to the bed where his files were laid out. “Hold on, I know I have a history of their transactions somewhere... Aha! Here, look; they have not bought very many items with which to refurbish a new building. Plus, those are not any of their usual contractors.”

“So that’s it then. That’s their base,” you said with a bubbling excitement. “So now we just have to get in.”

“No offense, darling, but are you sure you are up for it?”

“Yes,” you glared. “Besides, look at this. They’re ‘hiring.’”

Well, you were determined and clever, Loki had to give you that. The only problem being AIM was too. They were pretty good at keeping up a front, and he somehow had a feeling something would go terribly wrong. Still, some kind of backup would be nice. He didn’t want to hurt your feelings either. Norns, he really was going soft for you.

“Alright. So we go in for an interview and then sneak off to where they conduct their more unsavory business. But if we are going to clear my name, we have to let SHIELD know too,” he thought out loud.

“Easy,” you replied. “I’ll ping them our location once we get there. They’ll ship out immediately.”

“True,” he said, though he wasn’t exactly the biggest fan of letting them know where he was, let alone where you were. However, he didn’t really see many other viable options. “Then I suppose we should set to work, darling.”

You were able to get interviews for that Wednesday, just a mere three days away. Loki had noticed a disclaimer at the bottom of the form that said you may be offered a job at a different location. How very clever of them, he thought, to multitask like that, keeping up a front and expanding their company at the same time. Then again, he felt like it wasn’t the smartest idea to let anyone into a place where you were cooking a nefarious plot. That’s what happened when people got secure in what they did, though. They got lazy.

Regardless, about twelve hours later, you were off to California for your appointments, hoping the cover of night would make it harder to track you. As the sun rose on your car driving along the interstate, Loki broke the comfortable silence that had settled between you, ready to say what had been on his mind for the past several miles.

“You know that if something goes awry, we will not be able to save the other, right?” he began. “It will jeopardize the mission.”

“I know,” you replied. “We have to focus on taking them down. It’s not like SHIELD will be particularly happy with me either if we fail.”

“Yes, well, I thought it was worth mentioning. I am glad we are in agreement.”

After a few more minutes of silence, you spoke again. “Hey, Loki?”

“Yes, darling?”

“I think I’m falling for you.”

“Then,” he answered, turning his head to look out the window in order to hide his blush. He wished he could say it as bluntly as you had, but his nerves made him settle for a slightly veiled confession. “I am glad we are in agreement about that too.”

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki #mcu loki #loki fluff #fluff #loki angst #angst #reader insert #gender netural reader #loki multichapter #marvel #mcu #marvel reader insert #marvel fanfiction #loki fanfic #mcu reader insert #enemies to friends to lovers #mutual pining #friends to lovers #enemies to lovers #loki friggason #loki friggason x reader #loki laufeyson x reader #loki odinson x reader #loki x y/n #endgame timeline

[alinastracker]

for the prompt thing: 62 or 69 <3

you got it bb <3

prompt: I wanted to tell you that I liked you before prom but chickened out and now we’re about to graduate college and I can’t hold it in any longer

i can’t fight this feeling any longer (and yet i’m still afraid to let it flow)

"Mal, I love you."

Alina frowns, shakes her head, and tries again.

"Mal, you've been my best friend for so long, and I love our friendship, but you see, I'm also head over heels in love with you."

She blows out a frustrated breath, her newly chopped bangs briefly floating off of her forehead. Telling her best friend of nearly six years she’s in love with him should not be the number one thing on her mind right now. It’s graduation day, for Saints sake. A day she hadn’t been sure she would ever see. But all she can think about is Mal.

She had met him on one of the worst days of her life. Alina had been transferred to a new foster home in the middle of her junior year of high school. There were few things worse in adolescent life than moving to a new school in the middle of the year — especially in high school, in a small town where everyone seemed to know each other. 

Alina had walked the halls that day clutching onto the straps of her backpack, late to nearly every class because her sense of direction was shit, and had even gone as far as to eat lunch in the bathroom like a stereotypical teen movie, the thought of walking into the cafeteria with all those eyes on her nearly ruining her appetite entirely. She had been stared at enough as it was. 

Her last class of the day was art, and she was praying for it to be the reprieve she so desperately needed. If only she could fucking find it. The warning bell rang, heightening her already raised anxiety. Alina took a corner too fast and slammed right into a wall. No, not a wall — a boy. 

“I’m so sorry!” she blurted, scrambling to her knees to help pick up the papers she made him drop. 

“All good,” the boy reassured her.

Once the two of them had the papers off the floor, Alina looked up and nearly dropped them again. She was looking into the warm brown eyes of possibly the hottest guy she had ever laid eyes on. He had a strong, defined jaw, grown out hair that wasn’t too shaggy, but still long enough to run her fingers through. And Saints, his lips. She was already imagining what those lips would feel like, subconsciously licking her own. 

One side of the boy’s mouth quirked up, just a hint of a smirk, like he was used to having this effect on people. Shit, had he noticed her staring? Say something, Alina. 

“Um, sorry,” she managed finally, handing him the pile of collected papers. 

He chuckled. “You said that already.”

She tried a laugh of her own, but it came out all wrong, choppy and nervous. “Right.” 

The boy stood to his full height, and for fucks sake, he had to be tall, too? She rose from her knees and he still towered over her. It was extremely attractive. 

“So you’re the new girl,” he said, not a question but a statement. “I’ve heard murmurings about you today.”

“Murmurings?” 

“Nothing bad. It’s just a small town. When someone new shows up, people notice.” He smiled, stuck out his hand. It took everything in her not to think about how long his fingers were. “I’m Mal.”

She took his hand, her own so tiny in comparison. “Alina.”

“Nice to meet you, Alina. Where are you headed?”

“220B? History of Traditional Art.”

Mal nodded. “Well, I can’t say that’s a room I’m super familiar with. I’m a shit artist. These hands are much better for other activities.” Her eyes must have widened, revealing just how filthy her mind was, because he quickly added, “Sports! I meant sports!”

A look passed between them, and then they were both laughing. It felt so good to laugh after the day she’d had. 

“Anyway,” Mal continued, “I can help you find your way. I might not visit the art hall often, but I know my way around.”

Alina shot him another pointed look, and Mal groaned. “My way around the school! Saints, I’m really shooting myself in the foot as far as first impressions go, aren’t I?”

She grinned, but only said, “You’ll be late for class.” The final bell was going to ring any second. 

Mal waved her off. “That’s all right. What poor representation of Stag Spirit would I be if I let the new girl walk around like a lost puppy? And besides,” he shot her a grin to match her own, “we can’t have you running around, terrorizing other kids and their poor papers now, can we?”

Alina let out something between a scoff and a laugh. “I said I was sorry!”

He turned, walking backwards toward the stairs. “Did you? Must have missed it.”

She shot daggers in his direction, but she smiled the whole way to the art room. The next day, she dared to actually step into the cafeteria for lunch. People were still staring, but after yesterday, she expected it. Part of her was hoping she would find Mal in the crowded space, but she doubted it would matter even if she did. After some social media stalking last night, Alina had discovered what she should have known from the start — Mal was popular. He would already have a flock around him, friends he had known since childhood, who were just like him — attractive, athletic, alien to a kid like Alina who preferred quiet cafes and sketchpads to football fields and pompoms. He had been nice to her yesterday, sure, but that didn’t mean—

“Alina!”

Her head popped up, scanning the sea of tables until she saw him, standing and waving her over. Sure enough, Mal was at a table filled with pretty, sociable looking people. But there was a space open next to him, and she realized with a little jump of her heart that he had saved that space for her. 

It was the start of the fastest and fiercest friendship she would ever have. Mal was popular and sporty, yes, but he was also kind, funny, smart — and most surprising, had grown up in the foster care system, too. Alina made friends with his friends, a few of her own from her art class, but none of them matched what she grew with Mal. Suddenly she was a football field kind of girl, dressing from head to toe in school colors for each match, cheering for her best friend so loud she gave the cheer squad a run for their money. Over the next year and half, they were entirely attached at the hip. 

And while it had truly started as a friendship, by the time senior prom came around, Alina had to face the fact: she was head over heels for the boy. Hell, she had noticed how attractive he was from that first fateful meeting. Mix that with how genuinely good she knew he was — how caring, how attentive, how it felt to have his head rest on her shoulder as he fell asleep during a movie; who could blame her for falling for him? 

“You have to tell him!” her friend from art class, Yelena, had insisted. 

“I know, I know.” She sighed. “I’ll do it at prom.”

They were going as a group — her, Mal, Mikhael, Dubrov, Yelena, and a few others from their meshed circle of friends, brought together by the two of them. But Mal had still matched his tie to her dress, a stunning royal blue. Mal had still bought her a corsage — a delicate thing of mostly blue irises, her favorite flower. He was not her date, yet in every way except in name, it felt like he was, and Alina basked in the feeling. 

But as song after song played, Alina found herself backing out each time she tried to approach him. Yelena was shooting pointed looks at her all night, murmuring as she passed her, “You’re running out of time.”

Then a punky pop song came on, one of her and Mal’s favorites. She called him over. “Dance with me!” she exclaimed, and laughed as he all but pulled her onto the dance floor. Neither of them were good dancers, but they were enthusiastic, at least with each other. As the song neared its end, Alina sucked in a breath.

“Mal, I have to tell you something.”

He raised a brow, waiting for her to speak. The song ended, and their principal took to the stage. “All right folks, it’s time to announce your prom king and queen!”

Everyone was cheering and turning to the stage, but Mal was still looking at her, still waiting for her answer.

Alina opened her mouth, closed it, then finally said, “Thank you for the corsage. I really love it.”

Mal gave her a quizzical look, lips tugging down — and was that disappointment in his eyes? Before she could fully read him, his face smoothed, his usual charmed smile returning. “Of course, Lina.” 

“And your prom king is,” the principal was saying, “Malyen Oretsev!”

The crowd roared. Mal’s smile turned sheepish, and he took to the stage to accept his crown. Ruby was named prom queen, to no one’s surprise. Alina watched them dance together in the middle of the room to a romantic song that would now forever be ruined for her. A little later that night, Mal came up to her, said, “You can get a ride home with Yelena, right?” He motioned behind him, flushing a little even as he grinned, to where Ruby was waiting. “I’m gonna head out.”

Alina swallowed the stupid lump in her throat and nodded. Mal pressed a kiss to the top of her head, and then he was gone. She would spend the night at Yelena’s, crying on her shoulder that she had missed her chance — if she’d ever had one to begin with. Because of course Mal would choose Ruby. Beautiful, blond Ruby, much more his equal than Alina could ever be. 

Graduation came, and it was happy. But in all of the pictures and celebrations was Ruby — no longer just captain of the cheer squad Ruby, but Mal’s girlfriend Ruby. She watched them partake in a summer romance that she was guiltily happy to see fizzle out once college came and split them apart. Luckily, her and Mal were off to Os Alta University together, home of the Firebirds. They forged a new friend group there: the twins, Tolya and Tamar, Nadia, David, Genya, Zoya, Nikolai. Mal didn’t really date freshman year, sticking to little flings that Alina told herself didn’t matter. In sophomore year, the tension between him and Zoya finally snapped, and the two of them had a brief . . . something together. 

Of course, Alina had her own dabbles in romance — Alexei being the sweetest, Aleksander nearly making her swear off men all together. Her next two flings were with women, both because she had finally fully accepted her bisexuality and because she truly had lost trust in the male species. She even made out with Nikolai a couple times, but they had both just been using each other. They’d spent one night in a club so obnoxiously all over one another that Zoya had stormed out. Her thing with Mal had been off and on at that point, and the next morning, she texted him that they were off for good. 

Two weeks later, Nikolai and Zoya were dating. Mal was single. 

And still, she hadn’t made a move. 

Alina stares in the mirror now, watching the tassel on her graduation cap sway back and forth. In an hour, she’ll be moving it from the right to the left and leave Os Alta University in the rear window. It hadn’t been easy getting here — nothing is easy for a foster care kid, especially one who wants to be an artist. But she’s done it. She’s graduating with top honors. Saints, she even has a job lined up. Everything she worried about growing up — making a future for herself, being swallowed by the system, figuring out who she is without the guidance of her birth parents — she has faced all of it head on. At every step, she’s run after what she’s wanted and grabbed it by the hands until it was hers.

Everything except Mal. 

And try as she might, she can’t imagine a future without him in it.

He’s not seeing anyone — for now. Last night he texted her, laughing about how Ruby of all people had hit him up. She’s going to be in the city this weekend, apparently, and asked if he wanted to get a drink. It felt like prom all over again.

“Alina, come on!” Genya calls. “We’re going to be late!”

“Coming!” she calls back.

Alina follows Genya and Zoya down to the car, sits numbly in the backseat as they drive to the giant building holding their graduation ceremony. 

“Look alive, Starkov,” Zoya says as they get out of the car, linking their arms. “Today is for happy things. New beginnings.”

Genya takes her other arm. “No pouting about boys unless you’re going to do something about it.”

She smiles, and for a little while, it’s not forced. There’s a rush of excitement as they walk inside and find their seats. Genya isn’t too far off from her, but Zoya’s a few rows ahead. In the rows between them, still too far to talk to but not too far to make out the back of his head, is Mal. He’s talking to the guy next to him, even though she’s pretty sure he doesn’t know him. But that’s Mal, blooming wherever he’s planted.

Alina knows she shouldn’t, but the ceremony hasn’t started yet, so she stands and calls out, “Mal!” 

Somehow, he hears her over all the ruckus around them. The smile he gives her has her heart beating double time. “I’ll find you after!” he shouts back, though of course, she already knew that. Mal always finds her.

As the ceremony starts and a handful of different people come up to make speeches, she finds herself slipping into her thoughts from earlier. In her head, she sees Mal and Ruby, meeting for that drink. They pick up right where they left off. Ruby moves to the city, moves in with Mal. Alina’s there through all of it, supporting Mal like she always has, always will. On the sidelines she stays, watching him as he gets married and has ridiculously beautiful babies. None of it is real, not yet, but the thought is so painful she has tears in her eyes. 

Well, at least she can blame the tears on emotional graduation bullshit as she watches her friends walk the stage, cheering for each of them even though they’re not supposed to. Tamar and Tolya, the latter looking pretty emotional himself. David, who walks quickly even though he’s probably the most awarded student of the whole graduating class. Nikolai, who dramatically presses a kiss to the hand of the Os Alta University President after she hands him his diploma. Zoya, who walks the stage as if she owns it. 

Then Mal’s name is called, and she cheers so loud she’s pretty sure he hears it, if the grin on his face is any indication. Genya crosses, graceful as always. When her own name is called, she’s not expecting much. She has no family here save from the one she forged for herself. But as she walks, she can hear a very distinct cheer from a very distinct voice, and butterflies swarm drunkenly in her stomach. 

In the minutes that pass between her walking the stage and the last name being called — poor Nadia —Alina knows what she’s going to do. No backing out this time.

“Congratulations, Class of 2021!”

Everyone cheers, and graduation caps go flying through the air. Alina tosses hers with everyone else, and then she takes off, pushing through her classmates as they jump and shout, running until she finds the right row, forces herself through the bodies in her way, until she’s in front of him. Until she’s found Mal. 

“Alina,” he says in surprise. “What are you—”

“Don’t get a drink with Ruby.”

Mal frowns. “What?”

“I said don’t get a drink with Ruby!” she says, louder this time.

“I heard you. I’m just confused.” He shakes his head, runs a hand through his hair. “Why shouldn’t I have a drink with Ruby, and why did you run to tell me this right now?”

Because I’ve been in love with you from the first moment I saw you. 

Because I wanted to tell you at prom, but I chickened out. 

Because I’ve watched you kiss other girls for almost six years now, and I can’t stand to just watch any longer.

Alina doesn’t say any of that. Instead, she presses onto her tip toes, takes his face between her hands, and kisses him. 

Mal stiffens, but doesn’t give her time to worry before he relaxes again, pulling her body against his, lifting her so she doesn’t have to stretch so far anymore. All around them are the happy cheers of a group of people at the end of one road stepping onto another. Families in the stands hoot and holler for their children, wipe tears and think, they made it. 

But for Alina, it’s like being in a room where nothing exists except her and Mal, her best friend, her constant, the most important person in her life. She’s kissing him, she’s finally kissing him, and he’s kissing her back as if he’s been waiting for six years to do this, too. Like maybe he’s wanted her all along.

“Alina,” he breathes when their lips part, their foreheads pressed together instead. “Thank the bloody Saints.”

She giggles, actually fucking giggles, like a lovestruck school girl. “I’ve wanted this since prom. Before, even.”

Mal smiles, shakes his head the tiniest bit. “Me too.”

They laugh, so close that they’re breathing each other in. Two idiots, that’s what they are. But there’s no room to groan about what could’ve been sooner, no room to drown in regrets. They are young, and there is only room for joy in knowing they have the rest of their lives to make up for lost time. Starting now. Their lips meet again. Mal is steady and warm against her. He feels like home. It’s everything she’s ever imagined. It’s better. 

Alina can see her future so clearly now, because she knows no matter what comes next, she’ll have Mal beside her to navigate through it.

He is all she’s ever wanted — her forever person, who won’t leave when she’s being unreasonable, who’s love is not conditional. He is all she’ll ever need.  

#malina fanfic #alina starkov #malyen oretsev #fanfic #grishaverse fanfic #writing #mine #this didn't quite turn out how i expected but then again when does anything i write lmao #just some nice sweet malina feat idiots not realizing they love each other and lots of fun pining! #I HOPE U ENJOY ANA MY LOVE #it's 2am why do i keep writing at this hour sksksk #also don't entirely know how i feel about this but it issss what it isssss #maybe one day my writing style will be everything i want it to be

[got-svt]

all the boys you’ve loved and lost during the course of our lives, we meet thousands of people, creating either a seconds long moment or memories that last a lifetime. some of them you’ll have the opportunity to know beyond their names and faces, some you may even grow to love. unfortunately, not all of them have the luxury of staying in your life forever.

❥• two: the academic rival 

he’s the one that had you wondering how could you be so similar to someone, yet so different? he knew how to push your buttons and make a competition of everything, whether it was sports, academics or extracurriculars. he was the one that made steam come out of your ears and blood rush to your cheeks. but even you had to admit there was a certain rush that came with it, too bad he transferred schools just before senior year.

pairing: yoon jeonghan x reader genre: fluff, angst, enemies to reluctant friends to ??? word count: 2292

→   you genuinely thought the universe had it out for you when you were placed in the same year level as yoon jeonghan, more so when it placed you in the same class. you first caught sight of jeonghan in your first year of middle school. he was the boy seated three seats behind you. he seemed unassuming at first, somewhat quiet, and — dare you say it — nice and sweet, angelic almost. he only conversed with the other boys that sat near him, not sparing a glance to most. however, it wasn’t until a few years later, when you both started high school that you learned his true personality.

→   it was no secret that you studied hard, spending hours in the library, sacrificing nights of sleep. the results of your hard work showed very clearly in classes, on the nearly perfect marks on each of your exams and essays, how the teacher praised your answers during recitation. you relished in the gold stars, the awards, the quiet envy of your classmates.

→   you had never seen jeonghan open a single book, let alone actually read it. there was not a single time you saw him set foot inside a library. multiple times you’ve caught him answering homework minutes before the teacher walks in the room. which is why your blood boiled when you saw he was getting scores just as good as yours, finishing exams before anyone else in the classroom, his hand shooting up just as soon as yours when teachers call for someone to answer their question. eventually, you both gave up raising your hands altogether, competing to be the one to get an answer out first.

→   you wished he remained that quiet kid in middle school, who only stared at you with wide eyes when the teacher announced you had been the only one in your class to get a perfect score, who acknowledged your existence with a small nod instead of a smirk. 

→  unbeknownst to you, your little rivalry was slightly one sided. you see, jeonghan didn’t care much about winning or losing. truly he didn’t mind much if you had gotten the higher score, or be the one to answer the teacher’s question first. but god, did he enjoy seeing the way your eyebrow furrowed when he did, how you bottom lip forms into a little pout, how you gripped your pen so hard he was afraid it would snap. he still remembered the first time it happened, the birth of your so called rivalry, when he corrected your answer to the class first day of freshman year. since then, you had always been determined to one-up him every chance you got. much to your dismay, he was not one to back down.

→   and unfortunately for you, academics was not the only place you and jeonghan seemed to compete in. while you were in the swimming team, he played on the soccer team. you even had a small notepad to keep tallies of whose team was winning more games. 

“nervous, yn?” jeonghan asked, coming up to you as you were about to prepare for a race. if anyone else had heard him ask, they’d think he was concerned. but you knew this was only the beginning of him getting you riled up. jeonghan had never missed a single one of your swim meets, each time he comes over to you before the competition would even begin. 

“not a chance.” you rolled your eyes, waving a hand to shoo him away to the stands. but he showed no signs of leaving, his feet firmly on the tiled floor of the rec center.

jeonghan raised an eyebrow at your show of unwavering confidence, but he knew in the way your voice slightly trembled that you were not as assured as you presented yourself to be. fortunately, he knew exactly what to do to rid you of your nerves. “we won our game today, so it must be exhausting for you, huh?”

“what is?”  

he grinned, knowing the exact words to say to get your blood pumping just before a competition, “living in my shadow all the time.”

“if anything, you’re the one who’s living in mine.” you scoffed, more fired up than ever, determined to prove him wrong. suddenly, you couldn’t wait to get into the water, “i’m leaving now.”

“good luck, yn!” jeonghan called out with a smile, only to be met with a wave of your hand — you didn’t turn back for he would only see the blush that slowly formed on your cheeks. still it was more than enough for him as he looked for a seat in the stands with a soft smile. occasionally, he would send you a wink when his gaze met yours — though you only rolled your eyes at him when he did. 

and despite the fact that you seemed to be annoyed at his presence during your competitions, jeonghan always cheered you on, his voice clear and resounding even as you swam underwater.

→   but rarely were the two of you ever actively pitted directly against one another. you were always in the same class, and on the same team during activities that teachers found it somewhat remarkable that both of you were still able to find a way to compete against each other. it was always who could be the one to lead their team to victory, who contributed more points, who their own teammates liked better. 

→   it wasn’t until your phys ed teacher decided to make her two star pupils team captains in a friendly game of dodgeball that you were actually engaged in a direct, head-to-head competition.

“you totally cheated!” you yelled out as soon as the whistle was blown, signalling the end of the game. eyes ablaze with irritation and frustration, you pointed a single finger at jeonghan, recalling how you saw the ball lightly graze jeonghan’s leg but he made no attempt in leaving the court.

“i did not.” he held his hands up in mock defense, but a smile was on his face as he took in your angrily shaking figure. jeonghan wanted to burst out laughing, not even the least bit threatened or afraid as you stomped your way over to him. “my team just happened to be better than yours.”

you wanted to wipe that smug grin off his face, it didn’t matter how, you just desperately wanted to. your steps got longer and quicker at his words, cheeks flaming up both from being out of breath from playing and anger. your teammates swore they saw steam come out of your ears. “how dare you!”

your phys ed teacher stopped you just as you were about a couple of feet away from only lightly shoving jeonghan — you weren’t actually going to hurt him. grabbing you by your shoulders, she asked you to calm down and join your teammates in cleaning up the equipment, the agreed upon punishment for the game’s losers. 

but jeonghan wasn’t done with you yet, staying behind as his teammates went straight to the showers, “hey, yn.”

“what do you want?” you asked with a frown, not in the mood to hear him flaunting his win so soon. 

“maybe i did cheat.” he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

your eyes went wide, feeling somewhat proud that your suspicions were correct. but as you were about to open your mouth to retort, he leaned down so his face was level with and merely inches away from yours. you never fully noticed how good he looked, even though he was drenched in sweat, his hair sticking down his forehead. with a confident smile and a quiet whisper, “but i don’t think anyone’s going to believe you.”

“bye, yn!” he moved away and leaves the gym before you could even reply. but you weren’t even mad, more confused than anything else, remembering how close his face was to yours and how quickly your heart started beating because of it. 

→  since the dodgeball incident that had you nearly injuring both yourself and jeonghan, most of your teachers decided that it would be best to keep you two on the same side as it would probably be the best way to keep you two from fighting. they also knew of the incredible potential you and jeonghan could hold if you actually worked together. you both were incredibly smart, talented, and resourceful. whatever you lacked, jeonghan made up for and vice versa. 

→  which is probably why your english teacher decided to pair you up for your final project during your junior year of high school. both of you thought it was unfair, since everyone else got to choose their partners. the rest of your class thought it was unfair too, why did you pair up two of the smartest kids in their year? but they were also kind of interested to see what the both of you could come up with.

→   this is how you found yourself in the library, working with yoon jeonghan of all people. you would’ve much rather be paired up with the girl that sat next to you — she was quiet, but sweet. you’d rather even be paired up with your childhood friend, chan. but he was not in the same class and you hadn’t been speaking much lately. so you’d have to make do with jeonghan.

“i’m tired, i’m taking a nap.” jeonghan yawned, stretching his arms out to further prove his point. 

“we’ve barely started.”

“and yet i’m already bored.” he sighed dramatically, making a show of hitting his head on the table with a quiet thud. 

“what do you want me to do about it?” you didn’t bother looking up from your book, knowing that seeing his disinterested face would only put you in a bad mood. 

his eyes light up at your question, thinking that you were actually asking him for a suggestion, “let’s go for a drive.”

“what? no—” was this boy serious? you had another class in thirty minutes, where would you even go?

jeonghan groaned, cutting off your words and your train of thought, “live a little, yn. not everything’s about being number one. you can miss one class.”

you told him that if he wanted you out of the library, he’d have to drag you out kicking and screaming. which is exactly what he did, much to the amusement of your fellow students and even the librarian. now, you find yourself sitting in the passenger seat of his car, aimlessly driving around town — you were sure you passed the same tree four times. still, you found the drive somewhat relaxing; especially since you two weren’t arguing. 

but it was much too quiet for jeonghan’s liking. you were just staring out the window, arms crossed. he feared that he’d done something wrong. “hey, yn.”

“what?”

jeonghan chewed on his bottom lip, gripping the steering wheel tighter than he intended, “you don’t hate me, do you?”

you laughed at his nervousness. truth be told, you needed a bit of a break, so you couldn’t be too mad at him for taking you out of that stuffy library. you also knew he was asking for your opinion on him beyond this little trip. “on the contrary, i like that you keep me on my toes.”

jeonghan grinned, turning his gaze on you for the quickest of moments, “so you should be thanking me instead of grumbling in the passenger seat.”

you spent the rest of the afternoon talking, learning more about the other outside sports and academics. you were surprised at how much you had in common and he enjoyed the intense debates you had on your differences.

→  that was the car ride that changed your relationship from rivals to reluctant friends. though you were never really rivals to jeonghan to begin with. arguments became few and far in between. your cheeks tinting pink less out of frustration and more out of being flustered as he became as  flirty as he was teasing. 

→  unfortunately, he would be transferring schools the following year, just as you started to see him as more than a rival or a friend. 

→  and you didn’t find out about it until the first day of your senior year.

“wait, where’s jeonghan?” you asked your friend, noticing the lack of his usual teasing voice greeting you in the morning.

“didn’t he tell you?”

“tell me what?”

“he transferred schools yn.”

❥•  jeonghan knew he’d be transferring schools months before he even took you on that drive. he also knew he had grown feelings for you much before that. but with his father’s job needing them to relocate halfway across the country, he couldn’t find it in himself to confess. not when he knew he eventually would have to leave you. so when you bombarded his phone with texts, demanding that he explain why he couldn’t notify you of his move, all he could offer was an apology and another text telling you to check the last page of your english notebook.

you huffed as you looked down at your phone, that was all he had to say to you? after acting like he wasn’t just about to pack his bags and leave town for months on end.

still, you shook your head as you went to your closet, picking up the box where you kept your past notebooks. you shuffled past your science, math, art notebooks to find the one you used for english — still as neat and organized as you remember it to be. you flipped the notebook to its final page.

a quiet gasp escapes your lips as you read the words that were unmistakably in jeonghan’s handwriting,

don’t forget to live a little :) and don’t forget about me either. 

seventeen as all the boys you’ve loved and lost. next  ➤  vernon chwe, the first love

taglist: @t-secretpot @serenadesvt @chuu-soulmate​

ask/message to be part of the taglist <33

#seventeen imagines #jeonghan imagines #jeonghan x reader #jeonghan fluff #jeonghan angst #yoon jeonghan imagines #yoon jeonghan x reader #yoon jeonghan fluff #yoon jeonghan angst #seventeen scenarios #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #svt jeonghan #svt imagines #svt scenarios #svt fluff #svt angst #svt x reader #svt

[inevitably-johnlocked]

STEPH I ACCIDENTLY REWATCHED TSOT AND NOW I'M FUCKING SOBBING. I JUST HAVEN'T WATCHED THE ACTUAL SHOW IN FOREVER AND FORGOT HOW SAD SHERLOCK LOOKS IN THIS EPISODE. GOD. so yeah i just wanted some fics where john & sherlock dance together, whether it be at a/their wedding, "for a case", some kind of ball, or my favorite- sherlock teaching john to dance. it's maybe one of my favorite situations/tropes in media. (also welcome back!! and i love you <3)

Hi Lovely!!!

AHHHH I’ve been putting a “dancing” list together before I even had a system in place to do my lists, so I’m going to use your ask as an excuse to finally post it because I can’t find the original ask, LOL LOL!!!

And to pad out the list, I’m adding any that I’ve tagged from my MFL List, so I hope you enjoy that, LOL.

As usual, add your own, friends!! Hope you enjoy!!!

DANCING

You Lead, I Lead, You Follow, I Follow by BrighteyedJill (M, 862 w., 1 Ch. || Fever, H/C, John Whump) – John wakes up after a chase gone wrong to find Sherlock watching over him, but he’s a little hazy on the details.

Velvet by headlessjess (G, 1,155 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Angst, Jealous Sherlock, Loneliness, Sad Fic) – It's the day, the wedding day - John and Mary, getting married. And then there's Sherlock, in pain and in love, without knowing how to deal with it.

Your love it feels so good by Hotaru_Tomoe (E, 2,843 w., 1 Ch. || Gay Club / Gay Bar, Lingerie, Stripping, Anal) – Sherlock is last at a quiz night and is forced by Anderson to perform in a gay stripclub. John must be with him, because he will have to record the performance. Sherlock takes the task very seriously. Part 20 of The English job

Behind Closed Curtains by twisting_vine_x (G, 2,939 w., 1 Ch. || Dancing, Angst, Pre-Slash) – Set loosely during season two, when Sherlock and John are still, ahem, dancing around each other. Sherlock teaches John how to dance.

Unimpressed by 221b_hound (M, 3,106 w., 1 Ch. || New Year’s Eve, Dancing, Jealousy) – Sherlock has no intention of attending the Met's New Year's Eve party. The start of a new year is all but meaningless to him. But he ends up there anyway, having odd conversations, and John does not find Sherlock's jealousy the slightest bit cute. And then there is dancing. Part 10 of Unkissed

Every Step of the Way by Shi_Toyu (G, 3,795 w., 1 Ch. || Car Accident, John Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Caretaking, Pre-Slash) – When John is injured on a case, Sherlock can't forgive himself. Everyone expects him to give up on his flatmate and get bored, but he'll prove them all wrong by sticking with him...every step of the way.

No Good Without You by textsandscones (T, 4,021 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, Sherlock’s Violin, Dancing, Soppy Fluff) – A diverting new case surrounding musicians and stolen instruments captures Sherlock's attention, the consequences of which lead both detective and doctor to see one another in a different light. Part 1 of Prompt Fills

Living Musical by VeeTheRee (G, 4,149 w. 1 Ch. || Est. Rel., Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Domestic Fluff, Hobbies, Summer, Song Fic, POV Sherlock, Painting, Play Fighting, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Love Declarations, Hair Petting, Promise of Forever) – A one-shot of John and Sherlock being domestic during summer. There is paint, fluff, and music from Imagine Dragons, namely from the album 'Speak To Me', specific song in this one-shot is 'Living Musical'. Part 1 of the Happy Fluffy Johnlock Time series

But Tonight You Belong to Me by esplanade (T, 4,296 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Pining, Stag Night, Sad Ending) – “You. It's always you. John Watson, you keep me right.”

The Dance Lesson by bittergreens (G, 4,596 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Missing Scene, Dancing, Pining Sherlock, URT/UST, Romance, Angst, POV John) – Sherlock teaches John to dip. Part 1 of Goodnight, Vienna

Sway by CrackedMetal (K+, 4,602 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Drama, Dancing, Mary is Nice, Canon Divergence, Song Fic) – Sherlock doesn't leave the reception and Mary wants the best friends to have a moment to talk… So she suggests a dance. Johnlock with a side of John/Mary.

Sherlock and John Go Clubbing by wendymarlowe (E, 4,716 w., 3 Ch. || Clubbing, Dirty Talk, Dancing, Coming Untouched, Coming in Pants, Bi John, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Flirting, Sherlock is Lost for Words, Sexy John, Mutual Pining, Possessive John, Floor Sex) – John pinched the bridge of his nose - even for Sherlock, this was a new level of no bloody boundaries. “You want me to go with you to a gay club, wait around twiddling my thumbs while I let you get pawed by a criminal, then out-flirt him and talk you into coming home with me instead?” Part 32 of John and Sherlock's Kinky First Times

a very soft epilogue (my love) by darcylindbergh (E, 5,395 w., 3 Ch. || Retirement, Domestic Fluff, Dancing, Dogs, Grumpy Old Men) – Across the pillows, Sherlock shifts and hums, the creases of his face deepening and then smoothing before settling. John watches him wake up, his chest swelling with affection and fondness, and thinks he’ll never get tired of Sherlock in the mornings, sleepy and soft. It’s been some forty-odd years, and John hasn’t gotten tired of it yet. Part 5 of things fairy tales are made of

Second Waltz by Atiki (T, 6,685 w., 1 Ch. || MCD, Angst, Fluff, Cancer) – "The night I died, you wished I could wait for you."

What I Hide By My Language, My Body Utters by PixChuu22 (M, 9,047 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, For a Case, Friends to Lovers) - Based on a prompt from Tumblr user thetwogaydetectives - “fake relationship that ends up being so real, they finally realize they are in love.”

Down with this Ship by FrostedFlame (PinkOrchid) (M, 10,862 w., 10 Ch. || For a Case, Gay Bar, Pining Sherlock, Coming Out, Slow Burn) – Sherlock drags John undercover to a gay bar - for a case, of course - looking forward to seeing John flustered by their surroundings (since you know, he's NOT GAY). John decides that he has hidden both his orientation and his feelings for his daft flatmate for far too long. He is done hiding, time to be honest with his bloody best friend in the world. He just hopes it won't change anything between them. And then it does.

the first day of forever by darcylindbergh (E, 11,850 w., 8 Ch. || Est. Relationship, Domestics, Light Angst, Insecurity, Emotional H/C) – “I’m going to marry you,” John murmurs with against Sherlock’s smile, and they both giggle in the joy of it. “We’re getting married.” “Yes,” Sherlock says, just to hear himself say it out loud. “We are.” A June wedding. Part 4 of things fairy tales are made of

All the Girls Love a Soldier by Book7BrokeMyBrain (E, 12,951 w., 1 Ch. || Military Kink, Frottage, Domesticity, Post S3, Pining Sherlock, Kilt John, Wedding, Dancing) – John is invited to a stag party and a wedding. The related accoutrement suit Sherlock to a T.

Twelfth Night by yourdykeinshiningarmor (E, 15,139 w., 5 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Christmas, Mutual Pining, Friends to Lovers, Angst & Fluff, BJ’s, Anal) – John is invited to his aunt's Twelfth Night ball. Sherlock offers to attend with him as a friendly face among strangers, but John's family force him to address his true feelings for Sherlock.

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Out of the Woods by SilentAuror (E, 20,471 w., 1 Ch. || Post S4, Romance, Slow Burn, Flirting, Drunk Sex, Practical Jokes, POV Sherlock, Bottomlock, Possessive John, Pining Sherlock, Frustrated Wanking, Frottage, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, First Kiss/Time, Virgin Sherlock, Love Confessions, Soft Sherlock, Dancing, Bum Appreciation, Hanging out with the Yard) – Sherlock is fairly certain that John has taken to flirting with him of late, but can't be entirely certain of it. At least, not until a case takes them into a forest, along with Lestrade's team and something happens that will change everything about their lives...

Sonatina in G Minor by SilentAuror (E, 22,574 w., 1 Ch. || Case Fic, POV Sherlock, Angst, UST, Sherlock’s Violin, Post-S3, Romance) – John has come back to Baker Street, but Sherlock doesn't understand the strange tension between them, even after he begins teaching John to play the violin at John's request.

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 36,420 w., 7 Ch. || A Royal Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Prince Sherlock, Soldier John, Alternating POV, First Kiss, Bittersweet Ending, Homophobia, Dancing) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Guilty Secrets by Ellipsical (E, 55,086 w., 16 Ch. || Drumsticks, First Kiss/Time, Love Confession, Self-Sexual-Discovery, Anal, Rimming, Orgasim Denial, Butt Plugs, Cooking, Furniture Sex, Bath Sex, Rimming, Double Penetration, Anal Beads, Dancing, Romance, Tantric Edging) – John has a prostate exam and discovers something surprising about himself. Experimentation follows. Sherlock wants to help. They're in love. You know the drill.

The Bells of King's College by SilentAuror (E, 64,019 w., 5 Ch. || Post-S4, Missed Opportunities, Angst with Happy Ending, Fake Relationship, Case Fic, John POV, Jealous John, John in Denial, Travelling / Holidays, Virgin Sherlock, Wedding Proposals) – It's only been two weeks since Eurus Holmes disrupted their lives when Mycroft sends John and Sherlock to Cambridge to pose as an engaged couple at a wedding show in the hopes of solving six unsolved deaths...

Hell Sent, Heaven Bound by ConsultingHound (M, 64,381 w, 16 Ch. || Angels / Demons AU ||  Fallen Angel Sherlock / Angel Cop John, Alternate First Meeting, Slow Burn, Case Fic, John & Lestrade are Friends Before Sherlock, BAMF John, Mind Palace John, Friends to Lovers, John in Denial, Sherlock Picks Out John’s Clothing, Clubbing / Dancing, Mildly Jealous John, Awkwardness, Kidnapping, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Sacrifice, Worried / Anxious Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, Immortal to Mortal) – Ex-War healer and current angelic guard John Watson is not having the best day. He overslept, he’s underpaid, and now there’s someone tagging the Council’s building walls. However things may be about to get interesting: there’s an unusual stranger hanging around (the definition of tall, dark, and handsome), a literal underground cult is brewing, and rumblings are coming from hell. Can he keep his neighbourhood safe, how and why is he being connected to all this, and who the hell is Sherlock Holmes?

White Knight by DiscordantWords (M, 69,840 w., 13 Ch. || S4 Compliant/Post S4, Marriage For a Case, Jealous John, Pining John, Janine / Sherlock Fake Relationship, Serial Killers, Case Fic, Undercover as a Couple, Weddings, John is a Mess, Misunderstandings, Wedding Planning, Jealousy, Drunkenness, Love Confessions, Angst with Happy Ending) – Green. The word green was used to convey a great many things. Illness. Envy. Inexperience. Standing there amidst Janine's chattering bridesmaids, watching Sherlock furrow his brow and study fabric swatches, watching him smile and simper and flirt, John thought it a remarkably apt colour choice. Because he felt quite sick to his stomach, he feared the source of said sickness might very well be jealousy, and he had absolutely no idea at all what to do about it. Or: Sherlock needs to fake a relationship for a case. He doesn't ask John.

Not Broken, Just Bent by Schmiezi (E, 87,585 w., 43 Ch. || Pining, Love Confessions, Torture, Hurt/Comfort, Heavy Angst, Villain!Mary, Suicidal Ideations, Main Character Death, Sherlock POV, Eventual Happy Ending) – "For a second, I allow myself to remember teaching John how to waltz. There is a special room in my mind palace for it. A big one, with a proper parquet dance floor. For a second, I go there. I remember holding him, closer than the World Dance Council asks for, excusing it with the fact that we are training for a wedding, not for a competition. For a second, I feel his hand on mine again, smell his sweat, hear the song we used. For a second, I allow myself to love him deeply. For a second, only a second, that love reflects on my face." Fix-it for S3, starting at the end of TSoT. Evil Mary.

Shatter the Darkness (Let the Light In) by MojoFlower (E, 109,683 w., 23 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Genie/Djinn AU || Magical Realism, Kidnapping, Genie Sherlock, First Kiss / Time, Case Fic, H/C, Angst, Clubs, John Whump, Mild DubCon, Hand / Blow Jobs, Torture) – Fairy tales are for those who remember how to dream; not John Watson, broken and hiding from his bleak future in a beige bedsit. But then he discovers a lamp and finds himself in the dangerous riptide of an enigmatic man whose very existence is unbelievable, murder charges against his sister, and the growing pains of feeling alive once more.

Proving A Point by elldotsee & J_Baillier (E, 186,270 w., 28 Ch. || Me Before You Fusion || Medical Realism, Insecure John, Depression, Romance, Angst, POV John, Sherlock Whump, Serious Illness, Doctor John, Injury Recovery, Assisted Suicide, Sherlock’s Violin, Awkward Sexual Situations, Alcoholism, Drugs, Idiots in Love, Slow Burn, Body Image, Friends to Lovers, Hurt / Comfort, Pain, Big Brother Mycroft, Intimacy, Anxiety, PTSD, Family Issues, Psychological Trauma, John Whump, Case Fics, Loneliness, Pain) – Invalided home from Afghanistan, running out of funds and convinced that his surgical career is over, John Watson accepts a mysterious job offer to provide care and companionship for a disabled person. Little does he know how much hangs in the balance of his performance as he settles into his new life at Musgrave Court.

MARKED FOR LATER

He really can’t breathe. by Luna_sharp618 (NR, 696 w., 1 Ch. || Pining Sherlock, Dancing, Sherlock Teaching John to Dance, TSo3 Fic) – In which Sherlock teaches John how to dip his dance partner for the wedding and has some pining thoughts.

The Gay Bar Scene that never was by MadSophHatter (T, 1,372 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Gay Bar Scene, Confused Sherlock, Jealous John, Humour) – The gay bar scene from The Sign of Three as I envisioned it. Featuring a confused Sherlock, halfnaked men, sexy dancing and John who is absolutely not jealous.

Tango by standbygo (M, 1,424 w., 1 Ch. || Different First Meeting, Dancing) – “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” “Shut up and dance – a man’s alibi depends on it.”

Operation Synchronous by Daziechane (NR, 1,691 w., 1 Ch. || Dancer Sherlock, Lip Synch Battle, Abuse Of Umbrellas, Bets) – Sherlock never welches on a bet. That doesn't mean he'll give in easily, however.

on his mouth like liquor by chrysanthemumsies (T, 1,780 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3, Stag Night, Gay Bar, Romance, Dancing, First Kiss, Fluff) – The gay bar scene from Stag night that the creators didn't want to show! Pure crack with a bit of angst and a whole lotta fluff (if you squint). Sherlock and John on the dance floor - what's not to love?

Take me to Baker Street by MorganeUK (G, 2,087 w., 1 Ch. || Adult Ballet AU || Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Doctor John, Song Fic, Pre-Slash) – I always loved Sergei Polunin interpretation of Take me to the church so I decided to write a version where Sherlock is a ballet dancer in serious need of a doctor…

May I Have This Dance? by ScaryFairy13 (G, 2,297 w., 1 Ch. || Slow Dancing, Fluff, First Kiss, Wedding) – John drags Sherlock to Greg's and Molly's wedding. Dancing ensues as well as the discovery of certain sentimental feelings.

Under the Lights by CarmillaCarmine (E, 2,872 w., 1 Ch. || TSo3 Fix It, Stag Night, Gay Club, First Time, Dancing) – Following Sherlock’s map marked with all the streets where they had found a corpse, John and Sherlock stumbled into a gay club. Part 1 of TSoT Fix-It

Dirty by standbygo (E, 5,093 w., 1 Ch. || Established Relationship, PWP, Dirty Dancing, Romance, Smut and Fluff) – “Yeah, I actually learned how to dance like that, like in the film. I was quite the hit at parties while the craze lasted. Some of Harry’s friends called me Johnny Castle, after the character. Or Swayze.” “Swayze? What kind of word is that?” John did not reply, but gazed at Sherlock, his lips pressed together but still smiling. After a moment, he stood and held out his hand to Sherlock. “Dance with me,” John said.

The Posh Purple Pirate (Enter My Life and Make Me Drown) by  Loveismyrevolution (E, 7,408 w., 1 Ch. || Exotic Dancer AU || Alternate First Meeting, Strangers to Lovers, For a Case, Lap Dancing, Hand Job, First Kiss, Pirate Sherlock, Drama Queen Sherlock, Dancer Sherlock) – When Mike Stamford invited him to a fun night out, John Watson never expected it would become such a wild ride - captivated by an enigmatic pirate his life suddenly gains speed in an unexpected direction. Part 1 of PirateDragQueenVerse

Life's Uneven Kilter by theslovenlyfool (T, 14,877 w., 4 Ch. || Canon Divergence S3, BAMF John, Secretly Married, Camp Gay Sherlock, Dancing, John is a Good Actor, Fake Relationship, Mycroft Plays a Role) – "According to Sherlock, the game began on September 21, 2005 at precisely 10:37:04 am. John complained that, with that logic, the game had actually begun on January 7, 2000, at around 1:30 am. But for Sherlock, games are only fun when others are willing to play. What is a game without an adversary, after all? And what is a proper dash across London without a partner? Now, Sherlock thought as he assessed the doctor with the unforgivable cane, the game is on."

Thirteen Dances (Or, The Doctor Dances) by Knackorcraft (E, 17,544 w., 13 Ch. || Dirty Dancing, Tango, Ballet, Frottage) – John is a great dancer: we're talking all types. Not only is he able to pop and lock it, he's got some great ballet technique. He was best at lifting / holding girls.

The One Where Sherlock Doesn’t Ruin John’s Holiday by nutmeag83 (T, 18,898 w., 11 Ch. || Pre-TRF / S2 Timeline, Friends to Lovers, Cruise Ships, Vacation / Holidays, Fake Relationship, For Science, Bed Sharing, Cuddling/Snuggling, Mutual Pining, John POV, Minor Case Fic, Cooking, Dancing, Drunk Shenanigans) – John wins a cruise vacation for two and brings Sherlock along. But when it turns out to be a couples cruise, they have to pretend to be a couple themselves (for science). How many pretend kisses will it take before they can’t deny their feelings any longer?

Lockdown by johnwatso and Salambo06 (E, 23,376 w., 20 Ch. || Quarantine, COVID-19, Lockdown, Fluff, Parentlock, Reunion, Dancing, Soft Idiots, Sex Toys) – The world is in lockdown due to Covid-19. This is how Sherlock and John spend their time.

Dance With Me by Silvergirl (E, 24,813 w., 12 Ch. || Post TEH, Dancing, Met Charity Gala, Sally/Sherlock Friendship, No Mary, Fluff) – Sherlock rescues Sally Donovan, and in turn she tries to help him get John to stop faffing about and get on with Johnlock.

Mountebank by Odamaki (M, 26,514 w., 2 Ch. || Fake Relationship/Dating/Marriage, For A Case, Jealous John, Suits, House Party, Crack, Trapped, UST, Dancing, Idiots in Love, Confessions, Friends to Lovers) – “I am calm,” John snaps, leaning on the door to glare out at the dark streets around them. Sherlock’s not said where they’re going; all he knows is they came off the ring road to the west of London and have vanished somewhere into the depths of Berkshire. All he knows is that he’s been trussed up in a suit that wasn’t hired from anywhere and if brought new would edge up into the triple figure margins. “Be calmer,” Sherlock advises, with a trace of irony. “We’re going to a party.” Part 29 of the The Sherlexicon

Time Of My Life by fiveainley_ohmy (E, 29,719 w., 8 Ch. || Dirty Dancing Fusion || Bisexual John, Dancing, Gay/Demi Sherlock) – John Watson takes his alcoholic sister to a summer camp in attempt to rehabilitate her. He didn't expect to fall in love with the dance instructor.

Brooklyn Heat, Summer Jazz by Zigster (E, 41,820 w., 10 Ch. || New York Ballet AU || Jazz Pianist John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Modern Setting, Brooding Sherlock , Confused John, Non-Linear Storytelling, Sexual Tension, Angst, Alcohol / Pot / Club Drug Use, First Time, Not-Good Mycroft, Happy Ending) – "There was, however, one thing that made it easier to stay on his piano bench every day. One thing that kept John Watson showing up to class on time, every morning at ten with a large thermos of honeyed tea and a conviction to see a job well done. His name was Sherlock Holmes and he was the most confounding and extraordinary thing John had ever come across - the most exotic of birds and the most unattainable of men."

Blond Barista Seeks Dashing Ballet Dancer: Inquire Within by prettysailorsoldier (E, 43,847 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock Coffee Shop AU || Rugby/Barista John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Fluff) – Between classes, his job at a local cafe, and being captain of the rugby team, John Watson's life is plenty stressful enough without the addition of a mysterious ballet dancer he can see through the windows of the dance studio across the street, but, somehow, he can't bring himself to mind.

My Pictures of You by 72reasons (E, 50,527 w., 19 Ch. || Fashion AU || Model Sherlock / Photographer John, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, Past Viclock, Past Warstan, Cocaine / Drug Use, Mary is Not Nice, Angst, Pining, Case Fic, Kidnapping, Human Trafficking, Past Jolto, Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, Frottage, Oral / Anal, Fingering, Dancing, Non-Con Drug Use, Rimming) – John Watson, a photographer, gets an assignment to shoot gorgeous, young fashion model, Sherlock Holmes. He feels an instant connection, but Sherlock uses drugs and has an old friend who's just landed himself in a lot of trouble. When Sherlock comes to John for help, he reluctantly agrees. Angst, past loves, and insecurities threaten to end their budding romance, but ultimately love and trust wins out.

Focal Point by PuffleLock (E, 60,913 w., 13 Ch. || Post-TRF Divergence / Different Reunion, POV John, Slow Burn, For a Case, Friends to Lovers, Suicidal Thoughts, Sad Wank, Sherlock in Makeup, Dancing, Mentions of Torture / Depression / PTSD, Love Confessions, Idiots in Love, Frottage, Blow Jobs, Scars, Rimming, Anal, Toplock, First Kiss / Time, Gay Sherlock / Bi John) – John comes home early from a medical conference to find that every once in awhile, Sherlock can surprise the hell out of him. Can John surprise him back?

A Moment's Surrender by anchors (M, 64,272 w., 10 Ch. || Dancer AU || Ballet Sherlock, Swing Dancer John, Angsty Fluff, Romance, Swing Dancing) – Sherlock tours worldwide with the English National Ballet. John dances the Lindy Hop competitively all across the globe. That they would meet, then, by the slimmest of chances in one lonely city, is pure coincidence. The whole 'dancing together' bit is a little more planned.

This Is Your Song by agirlsname (E, 79,990 w., 19 Ch. || Moulin Rouge Fusion || Prostitute Sherlock, Poet John, Acting, Singing, Dancing, Writing, Poetry, Musical, Song Fic, Heavy Angst, Unreliable Narrator, Sherlock is French, Love at First Sight, UST, First Kiss/Time, Frottage, Coming in Pants, Anal Sex, Switchlock, Clothed Sex, Crossdressing, Secret Relationship, Forbidden Love, Jealousy, Terminal Illnesses, Grief/Mourning, Breakup/Makeup Sex, Past Drug Use, Attempted Rape, Canon-Typical Violence)– When John Watson is invalided home from the army in 1895, he moves to Paris to rediscover his writing and find a new meaning in life. His old friend Stamford invites him into a group of artist friends, and suddenly John finds himself auditioning to write a show for the famous brothel across the street. There, he meets the most beautiful man he’s ever seen - Sherlock, the star of the Moulin Rouge. But Sherlock is already promised to the investor of the show, the rich Duke Moriarty.

A Case of Identity – The Musical by shamelessmash (E, 83,147 w., 15 Ch. || 1950′s Hollywood AU || Musical, Case Fic, Undercover as an Actor, Dancing, Happy Ending, Kidnapping, Drugs, Fluff and Angst, Humour, Writer/Director John, Slow Burn / Romance) – A mysterious death on set causes chaos in Stamford productions latest movie. With the premiere date left unchanged, they must find a new lead actor and reshoot an entire movie in two months. Sherlock Holmes goes undercover as a lead actor in a Musical: a juggling act to solve a murder while singing, dancing and charming his way through 1950s Hollywood. The last thing he expected was to fall in love with the screenwriter along the way. Or as I like to call it: the case where Sherlock finally gets to dance. Based off this prompt.

Rewind by All_I_need (E, 87,593 w. || Fake/Pretend Relationship, Pining, Angst, Sharing a Bed, Dancing Lessons, Oblivious John) – About a month before John's wedding, he and Sherlock embark on one last case together: a murder at a remote hotel in the middle of nowhere. A lot can happen in a week. And a lot doesn't. But what if ...?

Rosethorne by suitesamba (M, 98,888 w., 28 Ch. || Secret Garden AU || Injured Sherlock / John, Recovery, First Times, Minor Character Death, Disability, Past Domestic Abuse [Mary/OMC]) – John Watson, WWII army doctor, is injured in the line of duty and can no longer wield a scalpel. Sherlock Holmes, Britain’s best code-breaker, is side-lined by his own devastating injury. In a work inspired by Frances Hodgson Burnett’s “The Secret Garden,” the two men must find meaning and purpose in a world which seems to have taken away all they hold most dear. But of course, it really hasn’t.

October to Hogmanay by snorklepie (E, 127,318 w., 25 Ch. || Post HLV Fix-It, Awkward First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Sherlock is a Mess, Shameless Smut, Sherlock’s Past, Scotland, Poison, Holmes Family, Kilts, Dancing, Angst) – John stared at Sherlock’s profile against the cab window and exhaled slowly. After a long moment, he reached out and touched Sherlock’s long fingers where they were fiddling with the button on his coat. The tall man didn’t look around again, but his fingers slowly unfurled before curling deliberately around John’s hand. Part 2 of Scotland

Shatter Me by Loveismyrevolution (E, 162,856+ w., 20/24 Ch. || WiP || Sherlock Dances, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Angst with Happy Ending, Misunderstandings, Introspection, Mutual Pining, UST, Idiots in Love, Big Brother Mycroft, Implied Drug Use, Suicidal Thoughts, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions) – This is a story about two men trying to find their way back into the comfort of their companionship. No easy task in the aftermath of the events of Reichenbach, a wedding and a shot through the heart. They are facing a very rocky road ahead with a lot of introspection, misunderstandings, angst and pining. They each try to cope in their own particular way. Eventually, they'll find a way to communicate and learn about the true nature of their feelings.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #my fic recs #dancing fics #themiddlenameslove #long post

[midnightsnyx]

Mathew Barzal - A Year In The Making

pairing: mat barzal/reader

word count: 5.5k

warnings: fluff, angst (me writing sad stuff?? shocker), and there may be a couple swear words? also, this is not edited so i apologize in advance lol

a/n: so this isn’t the soulmate mat fic i am supposed to be writing lol but its still mat! i’ve been working on it f-o-r-e-v-e-r for @hannahmb​ so hannah, i hope you like it!

my masterlist

Mat Barzal

Summary: Y/N looks back on an entire year with Mat.

 January

When you say that meeting Mathew Barzal swept you off your feet, you mean he literally swept you off your feet. It was cold and icy when you were walking to your favorite coffee shop. You weren’t watching where you were walking so when you ran in to him, his foot accidentally (and you question to the day whether it was truly accidental) tripped you up, he managed to catch you before you fell and when you looked at him and saw warm hazel eyes and brown hair sticking out from under his gray hat, you knew you were a goner.

. . .

You knew the reputation hockey players had. They slept around, didn’t give girls a second look after they got what they wanted and you were dead set on never giving Mathew Barzal a second thought but when you ran into him at the grocery store and he asked you to go for coffee, you agreed. 

Looking back, it was probably the dumbest and smartest decision of your life.

Coffee led to lunches which led to a movie night at his place which led you to your first hockey game. You knew absolutely nothing about hockey but what you did know, was that Mat loved to celebrate after a win. Whether it was heading to the bar with a couple of his friends or spending the night home watching a movie, he was always in the best mood after. 

After your first game, he decided that the best way to celebrate was to go for a walk and get hot chocolate with you. Despite only knowing each other for a little under a month, it felt like the two of you had been the best of friends forever. It was something that attracted you to Mat. How easily he was able to get you to open up to him and vice versa - how much he trusted you with his thoughts and feelings. 

It’s definitely how you found yourself standing under a lamppost, snow falling around you like some cheesy romance novel and Mat kissing you softly.

And thinking back, you wouldn’t have changed a single thing.

February 

Things between you and Mat were… interesting to say the least. You weren’t a couple but you know that both of you weren’t seeing other people either. Labels were messy anyways. They caused more tension between the two of you than good. Your friends, however, had their opinions.  

“I just think it’s a little weird that he hasn’t asked you to make things official yet.” Your friend said. “I mean, you don’t know what he does on the road or during the nights you don’t spend together.”

Her words certainly hit a sore spot but you tried to brush it off. “It’s casual,” you said. “We don’t want to jump into anything.”

“If you say so.” She hummed, going back to eating her pasta. 

Her words were in the back of your mind though, no Mater how hard you tried to push them out. You and Mat had been open about not seeing other people, it was a lengthy discussion that made you feel better about not putting a label on anything. But, there’s always the possibility that he would change his mind. You didn’t know what he did on the road. Maybe your friend was right, and even though you and Mat had talked about it, perhaps it was just his way of making sure you stuck around while he was home.

Maybe you were just the pathetic girl that waited at home for him while he did whatever he wanted while on the road.

 March

You’d swept your uneasy feelings about Mat under the rug until a Snapchat video surfaced of him on the internet. It was him with the other guys sitting at a table in a bar with some girls sitting with them. 

They were sitting with Mat and not on him is what you kept telling yourself. He didn’t look like he was interested in them but you couldn’t get rid of the awful feeling in the pit of your stomach that he would take one of them home with him.

You knew that letting your friend’s words about him would ruin things but you couldn’t help it. So you ignored him when he called you the next morning. He knew that you had early classes and wouldn’t call you after games when the time zones would be too different.

You ignored his call and then the texts he sent. He would be home the next day so you decided he could wait until then because you still weren’t sure what exactly to say to him. What would you tell him? That you didn’t believe him when he said that he only wanted to see you? That you didn’t trust him, or that you let your friends words get to you?

You still didn’t know what to say when he showed up at your apartment. He looked worried and mad and you weren’t sure which was worse.

“What’s wrong?” was the first thing he asked. There was no hello, how are you?

“Nothing.” You lied but he shook his head. 

“I know you better than that.” He said. “Something’s wrong.”

You wanted to lie to him again, tell him it was nothing, and to forget about it but you needed to know. 

“Those girls in the video.” You said, and he looked confused for a moment before his expression turned into understanding. “I know we aren’t a couple, technically,” you said quietly and watched as he slowly walked towards you. “But it bothered me.”

You waited for his reaction, watched his face warily. What you weren’t expecting was for him to take both your hands in his and squeeze them gently.

“Can I be honest with you?” He asked softly and even though you weren’t ready for his honesty, you nodded.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you that entire night.” He chuckled and shook his head. “Tito kept asking me why I wasn’t making a move on one of them.” His head tilted a little as he studied you. “But all I could think about that night was how much I wanted you to be there with me.” 

You couldn’t hide the smile that crossed your face and you wrapped your arms around his waist and hid your face in the crook of his neck. 

“I kinda wished I was there too.” You whispered and your smile widened when he picked you up and spun you around. He was laughing when he put you down.

“Let’s go out tomorrow night. A couple of the guys and their girlfriends or wives are going to Joe’s.” He gave you a hesitant look but continued. “I want to introduce you to them.” 

Your brows furrowed. “I’ve met your teammates.” 

“I want-” he cleared his throat. “I want to introduce you as my girlfriend.” 

Your smile could have lit up the room.

April

You quickly learned that being exclusive wasn’t all that it was cut out to be. There was a certain pressure that came with dating a professional athlete and as time went on, you felt yourself begin to crack under that pressure. You weren’t sure if it was the media, intense fans or the fact that it was difficult to spend as much time together during the Playoffs but you started to question things with Mat.

Your mother always told you that you were an over thinker and always managed to think of the worst possible scenarios and though you would never admit it to her, she was damn right.

Your overthinking is what typically caused an fight between you and Mat. You were never one to pick fights but it just felt like every single thing that happened made you upset. Whether it was you feeling that he played video games too much when the two of you hung out or that he thought you made a big deal out of small things, the two of you were arguing all the time.

It left you spending many nights questioning whether being with him was even worth it when all it seemed to do was cause stress. You wondered if he ever thought the same things.

. . .

The loud cheering in the Barclays Centre did no good to your mood on a Monday afternoon game. You weren’t even sure why you went to the stupid game in the first place after a terrible argument between you and Mat the night prior. It might have been Tito’s many, many texts that day asking you to come because “Mat is always in a bad mood when you don’t come to games” that had you sitting in the stands sporting your Barzal jersey. You knew that you were welcomed in the Wives Lounge but sometimes you enjoyed sitting surrounded by random people you didn’t know and not having to socialize.

It definitely was a good idea at the time because yours and Mat’s fight had unfortunately been in front of some of his teammates and their other halves so you didn’t feel like getting questioned about it.

A loud bang caused you to nearly jump out of your seat and when you looked up, Tito was standing in front of you, grin on his face and waving. You had been distracting yourself on your phone so you wouldn’t look at Mat during warm-ups but you caught his eye when Tito had made you look up. You couldn’t really read the expression on his face. Part was probably irritation and the other maybe relief that you had shown up. The door slamming in his face the night before was probably still fresh in his mind.

Tito waving his hand in front of you brought you back from the memory and he had a puck in his hand, pointing it to you. You furrowed your brows at him because you already had a few pucks from games when you and Mat had first started dating because he had a habit of gifting you with a lot of Islanders things. So you caught it when he chucked it over the glass, intending to give it to the kid sitting next to you until you caught sight of some scribbles on the back. You flipped the puck over and your heart warmed when you realized it was Mat’s handwriting.

I’m sorry with a small heart was written messily on it and when you looked up and caught Mat’s eyes, you smiled and nodded and that must have been enough for him because he grinned and winked at you.

It was enough for now.

. . .

Meeting him at the locker room doors was not anything unusual but you were on edge that evening. You were pretty sure Mat had forgiven you for slamming the door in his face the night before but you were still nervous. When the guys started coming out of the locker room, dressed back in their game suits and grins on their faces, you kept your eyes trained on the doors waiting for Mat.

“He’ll be a few more minutes.” Tito said, stopping in front of you. “He’s doing an interview - game winning goal scorer and all.”

You smiled and let him ruffle your hair like you were his little sister despite the age difference between you two being minor. He always treated you like a sister from the moment you met and you liked that compared to some of Mat’s other young teammates who tried flirting with you in the beginning.

“Thanks, Tito.” You said, waving as he smiled again and walked away.

A little longer than a few more minutes, Mat walked through the doors. He was dressed in his suit again and his hair was wet from the quick shower he must have taken before coming out.

“Hey.” He said quietly, hesitating as if he had been trying to decide whether to approach you or not. When you held out your arms, he walked straight to you and wrapped his around you, lifting you off the ground slightly.

The two of you stood there for what felt like longer than it probably was before he loosened his arms and pulled away a little.

“I’m sorry.” He said, resting his forehead against yours.

“Me too,” you told him and stood on the tips of your toes so you could reach his lips. The kiss was gentle and slow and when you pulled away, you took a step back. “The fight was stupid and we both know it.”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “I know. I just… I feel like sometimes we fight for no reason and it frustrates me. I hate being mad with you.”

Deciding that Barclays Centre wasn’t the right place for his conversation, you took his hand and pulled him towards the exit.

“Let’s go home and talk.” You said and he nodded, squeezing you hand gently and pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

As you both walked to his car, you idly wondered when home stopped being a place and instead became a person.

May

The Islanders got put out of the playoffs during the second round and although you knew Mat was upset, he shrugged and said, “there’s always next year.” You wondered if that was what got professional athletes through the losses in their careers.

The end of the hockey season meant Mat going home to B.C and it left you in an odd place. He didn’t directly ask you to come with him for the off season but the way he described his summer plans, made it seem like you were involved.

But you being you prevented you from outright asking if he wanted you to come home with him. It was a big step and you weren’t sure you could handle the rejection.

As the date he was leaving quickly approached, he asked if the two of you could talk and your stomach plummeted at his words. You agreed though and during the drive to his apartment, you mentally prepared yourself for the rejection.

He greeted you at the door with a kiss which eased some of your worries but when he started making you your favourite ice tea, you started getting worried. He was mindlessly babbling about random things until he sat on the stool next to you and when you looked at him, he was uncharacteristically serious.

“You could have told me you didn’t want to come to B.C,” he said. “I wouldn’t have been offended, I know you have friends here and probably had summer plans-”

“Mat.” You said quickly, cutting him off. “I want to come with you. To your home.”

He stopped his babbling and looked at you in shock. “Wait, really?”

“Yeah.”

“But you didn’t say.”

“Well I mean, you never asked.”

He rose his eyebrows comically high. “I didn’t think I had to.”

A smile broke out across your face and you leaned forwards so you could kiss him. He chased after you when you sat back making your grin widen. “I just didn’t want to push. We spend nearly all year together so I didn’t know if you wanted space for the summer.”

“Y/N.” He said seriously. “I want to be with you. Forever.”

And if that wasn’t the sweetest and most romantic thing a man had ever said to you, you weren’t sure what was.

June

Summer with Mat was, well, amazing. Days spent on the lake and nights spent under the stars ended up making that summer one of the best in your life.

Meeting his family for the first time was equally frightening as it was exciting. His father, Mike and mom Nadia were two of the kindest people you met and you quickly bonded with his sister Liana. They took you in as if you were their own and Mat frequently joked that they were stealing you from him.

You didn’t mind though. You loved spending days shopping at the mall or going to the beach with Liana. Brunch with his mom was always lovely and she always managed to tell you the funniest and most embarrassing stories about Mat. It gave you a little leverage when you needed it and on top of that, Mat was overly cute when he would pout at you jokingly poking fun of him.

Every single day, you realized you fell a little more in love with him and that realization nearly knocked you off your feet.

July

“Let’s go out tonight together.” He said one morning. “Just the two of us.”

Not having spent much alone time together as you would have liked, you quickly agreed. Mat didn’t tell you where he planned on taking you but he must have told Liana because she chose an outfit for you. It gave you a small idea of what he might have been planning.

She didn’t pick out a fancy dress which told you that he wasn’t bringing you to a high end restaurant which you were secretly pleased about because you never quite felt like you fit in at places like those. You much more preferred to go to a small diner so when she chose a cute romper with a pair of sandals, you had a bit of an idea of where you might be going.

“Any hints?” You asked, placing a hand over his which was resting on your thigh.

He shook his head and grinned. “It’s a surprise.”

You pretended to be bothered by it but you felt giddy inside that he was putting so much thought in to your date. It was also fun playing a guessing game, throwing ideas at him of where he was taking you even though you knew he wasn’t going to tell you. You had carefully watched his reactions to your guesses so you weren’t overly surprised when your ride ended at a park.

It was pretty late in the evening, getting close to dark so there were very few people out and around. He parked his car and reached in the backseat to grab a bag before climbing out of the car.

You knew he liked opening the door for you so you waited until he opened it before getting out as well. He took your hand and lead you to a park of the park that was empty and then dropped the bag on the ground and dug around, pulling an old blanket out.

“Picnic?” You asked, grinning from ear to ear.

“Is it okay?” He asked and you sat down when he spread the blanket out.

“It’s perfect.” You told him, watching as his face lit up. He sat down next to you and started pulling different snacks out of his bag, handing you some of your favorites.

“Mom helped pack the lunch.” He paused. “I had to stop her when she tried to cook a three course meal for us.”

You couldn’t help but laugh because it was a very Nadia thing to do.

“I love your mom.” You said. “I love your entire family.”

He smiled, looking at the ground as if he was concentrating on something. You knew the look enough that it meant he was going to say something but was either nervous and was working himself up to saying it or would decide not to say it at all.

But you wanted to know what he was thinking so you nudged him.

“What’s going on in your head?”

His cheeks were red when he lifted his head and he shrugged, smiling.

“I love you.”

Your smile was as bright as one of the stars and he met you halfway when you leaned towards him.

“I love you too.”

August

August was one of your least favourite months because it meant that summer was coming to an end. It also meant that off season was coming to an end and it meant that you and Mat would soon be heading back to New York. You loved it there, you really did. You missed your friends and your job but you knew you would miss B.C even more so when the day came that the two of you had to leave, you weren’t ashamed of the tears that were shed. Nadia made you promise to visit again soon and it was an easy promise to keep.

As soon as you got home, Mat was right back at training for the new season. It was a big change from spending basically every single day together to having to share him again with hockey. You loved Mat and you loved that he did what he loved but sometimes you did wish he had a normal nine to five job. He knew you felt that way some days and you could tell he sometimes felt a little bad about it but what you came to learn throughout your relationship with Mat, was that hockey nearly always came first. It was something that you struggled a lot with in the beginning of your relationship but it got a little easier as time went on.

On your best days, you would watch Mat train and feel pride in how determined and hard working he was.

On your worst days, you laid in bed at night and tried to think of your first kiss with the snow falling softly around you, warm sunny days at the lake and late nights under the stars.

Sometimes it was enough but sometimes, it wasn’t.

September

Wake Me Up When September Ends is the most played song on your playlist for an entire month.

October

You never know the biggest fight of your life is coming until it happens. It’s something that starts as the smallest of things until suddenly it hits you like a freight train and the impact is devastating.

That’s what the biggest fight of yours and Mat’s relationship was like.

You hated shouting and screaming. You hated threats to give everything up and walk away. You hated how easy it felt to do just that.

But what you hated most of all, was feeling like you were never enough. Like no Mater how hard you tried, failure was bound to happen and there was no way you could stop it.

And that was exactly what happened.

Slamming doors was your thing. It was childish and immature but it was a way of you making a point when you were angry about something so when Mat slammed a door, you knew he was past anger.

Mat rarely got angry with you. It could be counted on one hand the amount of times he even raised his voice at you but that night, the two of you yelled at each other until your voices were hoarse.

“Why can’t you understand where I’m coming from?” You snapped, watching him pace back and fourth across the living room. His hair was a mess, he had been running his hands through it and tugging enough that you thought he would tear it out.

“Because it makes no sense!” He yelled, “you knew what you signed up for when we started dating! I can’t be your typical nine to five boyfriend who comes home every night.”

“I’m not asking you to be that! I’m asking you to try and put more effort in to this relationship!” You shouted, not caring about the noise complaints you received from your neighbors a week later. “Do you know what it feels like when you feel that you’re the only one putting any effort in? What it feels like when you look at your friends relationships only to realize that yours isn’t even close to how good theirs is?”

“So you’re calling me a terrible boyfriend.” He said dryly.

“That’s not what I said and you know it. Stop putting words in my mouth, Mat.”

“I’m not putting words in your mouth if that’s what you’re saying. If you’re so unhappy, then why are you still with me, huh?”

His words stopped what you planned to say and you stared at him in shock. A small part of you wondered what the answer to his question was. Were you really that unhappy that you considered leaving?

“I…” you began but trailed off as you watched any emotion leave his face. The hurt and even anger disappeared and you didn’t realize how quiet the room was until he shook his head.

“I’ll make it easier for you.” He said, grabbing his coat and keys. “I’m done.”

You felt like you were frozen in place as you watched him leave, slamming the door behind him. Minutes passed before you slowly walked towards the front door, opening it in hopes that maybe just maybe he was standing on the other side but when you opened it, the hallway was empty. It was dead silent and when you looked at the floor, you saw Mat’s key to your apartment laying there, the little heart and smiley face you had drawn on it staring up at you as if it was mocking you.

You knelt down to pick it up and suddenly it felt like you couldn't breathe, like all the air was pulled from your lungs and your heart was cracking open.

If meeting Mat felt like breathing for the first time, then losing him felt like drowning.

November

You thought that heartbreak was something that passed eventually, that it got easier every day but it was a lie. You didn’t get over Mat quickly, in fact, it felt like every day got harder and you always told yourself you wouldn’t be that girl. The girl who gets her heart broken and can’t get over him. You wouldn’t cry yourself to sleep some nights or be afraid to turn the TV on in case it was the sports channel and you saw his face.

You scrubbed your apartment clean of him, everything he gave you and anything that reminded you of him sat in boxes on the top shelf of the spare bedroom. It didn’t help though because the memories, those were impossible to forget. They were engraved in your brain forever.

You hated him for how easily he left, how easy it was for him to walk out of your life as if he was never here.

Tito texted you a few time in the beginning, first asking what happened and then asking if you were okay or if you needed anything. You guessed he got the message when you didn’t answer because you haven’t heard from him in weeks and you weren’t sure if that made you relieved, or sad.

Falling in love was easy you realized.

Falling out of love was impossible.

December

A year passes swiftly. Especially when it’s both the best and worst year of your life. You hated yourself for it, but when December hits, you wondered how Mat was. You wondered if he got over you quickly or if he struggled the same way you did. You suspect it was the former.

At the end of every year, you liked to go through your things and donate what you don’t need or want. You started with your clothes and as you went through it, you noticed that you were missing several of your favourite outfits and your heart sank when you realized they were at Mat’s.

It left you with a dilemma. Leave them, or be a big girl and go ask for them back. You could go through Tito to get them back but you don’t know if he’s upset with you for ignoring him just because you broke up with Mat. He was your friend and it was unfair what you did but at the time, you were hurting.

But still, you decided to do it yourself and go get the clothes from Mat’s apartment and whatever else you might have left there. You did your best to get ready and look presentable and when you felt ready, you grabbed your keys and headed for the door. When you opened it, a hand nearly collided with your face as the person standing there was starting to knock. They jumped back and when you looked up, you found yourself staring in to the eyes of the exact person you were going to see.

“Mat.” You whispered, feeling like you needed to reach out and touch his face to make sure he was actually standing there and you weren’t hallucinating. But you didn’t because that would just make you look insane.

“Hi.” He said quietly and the two of you stood there for an unknown amount of time staring at each other.

Eventually, you found your voice.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, not harshly but confused.

He opened his mouth to say something but it was if he couldn’t get the words out. Like they were stuck in his throat.

“I’m sorry.” He finally said and you looked at him in shock.

“What?”

He scratched the back of his head and looked at the floor. “What I said to you… it was unfair. I know I fucked up, and I don’t deserve a second chance but these past two months, I missed you like Hell.”

You were lost for words. You couldn’t lie and say you didn’t miss him too but were you really willing to put your heart on the line again and it got broken so easily last time? Could you even handle another heartbreak like that?

“Can we… can you give me a second chance?” He asked so timidly and quietly that you barely heard him.

You let yourself think back over the past year, remembering every single detail. All the joy, laughter, love and heartbreak. Was it worth it? Risking everything again even though you could end up broken again?

You found yourself looking at Mat again, hazel eyes warm and hopeful and it makes you think of the very first time you met. You were faced with the same decision - to let him in or let him go?

You knew you could live without him but you realized standing there, thinking about the past and what the future could be - you didn’t want to live without him.

So you stood up on the tips of your toes and pulled his lips down to meet yours and it felt like you were whole again.

“I can.”

(a couple years down the road, you’ll be saying I do in front of your friends and family with the love of your life and you’ll realize that yes, the risk was worth it.)

#mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal imagines #mat barzal fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine

[telehxhtrash]

On the cultural lore behind the late Hunter Exam Arc and the Testing Gates Arc.

Hi ! Today I want to talk a bit about Togashi’s use of mythology, legends and lore as a way to emphasize the narrative in his story. 

It’s no secret that Togashi loves to use details and symbolism in his story, but I think the Testing Gates arc is the one arc that uses this writing technique the most. In only a few chapters, Togashi manages to reference and intertwine 3 different legends to highlight the message in his narrative : Gon’s rescue mission is emphasized by the legend of Orihime & Hikoboshi, the legend of Eurydice & Orpheus, and the legend of Izanami & Izanagi.

As you may know, the early part of Killua’s character arc reflects the Tanabata legend, and it’s reinforced by the fact that his birthday falls on July 7th, the day Tanabata is celebrated. I’m going to link this post that is better written than anything I could ever write on this, so I suggest reading this before reading this post ! I’ll still go over the general details of Tanabata below though.

The legend of Tanabata can be closely paralleled to Killua’s early story arc. 

Orihime worked relentlessly for her father and weaved the most beautiful clothes. She was very, very talented and worked very hard for her father. 

However, Orihime lamented the fact that because of her job, she couldn’t meet someone and fall in love. All she craved was human connection, and her working for her father kept her from meeting someone and falling in love.

Her father eventually allowed her to meet someone, Hikoboshi, and they instantly fell in love.

But sadly for her father, that meant that Orihime didn’t focus on her job anymore and only focused on appreciating her time with her lover.

In anger, her father decided to separate the two lovers and forbade them to meet. (don’t take this too literally - the Zoldyck family in its entirety represents Orihime’s father)

As you can see, Killua follows Orihime’s story pretty accurately. He used to work for his family as a skilled assassin, the most skilled one in the entire Zoldyck family’s history. However, Killua lamented the fact that because of this, he couldn’t make friends. That’s his primary reason for leaving the Zoldyck Mansion : see if he could make a friend. And then, he met Gon, and it was pretty much love at first sight. The two of them enjoyed their time together, joking around and sticking together most of the time, until the final phase of the Hunter Exam where Illumi forbids Killua from seeing Gon and manipulates him into going back to the Zoldyck Mansion.

This isn’t how the Tanabata legend ends, but this is where the other 2 legends I want to talk about come into play.

Gon, after being passed out for hours as a consequence of his fight with Hanzo, learns about Killua’s fight with his brother and completely flips out. He proceeds to confront Illumi about it directly and asserts that Killua is his friend and that he’ll bring him back no matter what. After this, Leorio, Kurapika and Gon make their way to the Zoldyck Mansion to get Killua back. As they arrive at the Mansion, the tour guide proceeds to explain one of the particularities of the Zoldyck Mansion : there’s a huge gate that can only be opened by brute force. Anyone can enter, as long as they go through this door. And this is where it gets interesting.

The tour guide mentions that this gate is called “黄泉への扉”, yomi he no tobira. The gate to Yomi.

But Tele, why the fuck are you mentioning this, you may ask.

Because 黄泉, Yomi, is the land of the dead. Togashi is expressing that this is the gate to Yomi, the gate to enter the land of the dead : the Zoldyck Mansion. The Zoldyck Mansion is directly compared to Yomi. 

In Japanese mythology, Yomi is where all souls go after they die. No matter if you were good or bad, you’ll end up in Yomi. It’s not Heaven, it’s not Hell, it’s just…. A place where you end up rotting forever. It’s described as gloomy and dark, empty and cold. It’s not burning in hellfire, it’s just a place where you just sort of wander aimlessly, empty for the rest of eternity. 

And this cold and gloomy, empty atmosphere can directly be correlated to the Zoldyck Mansion. The tour guide mentions that this is the gate to Yomi, because if you enter, you’ll never come back, but this applies more to Killua. Killua is in Yomi right now after a trauma-induced dissociative episode. He was forcefully sent back to the Mansion, and is now being tortured by his family. If Killua stays there, it’s obvious he’ll never come back psychologically from this. He’ll be trapped in this meaningless existence, cold and empty, devoid of any passion. A life his parents chose for him, a life he doesn’t want to live, a life as Zoldyck heir. He’ll be stuck in Yomi, the land of the dead, forever.

But Gon won’t let that happen. He planned this rescue mission because Killua opened up to him about who he wants to be. He doesn’t want to live according to his family’s plans for him anymore, he wants to live a life for himself and be free. And Gon wants to help him achieve that, because he saw the good in Killua. Which is why he insisted he’d rescue Killua himself and will drag him out of the Zoldyck Mansion. He’ll get him out of Yomi.

Which leads us to the story of Izanami and Izanagi. Yomi is commonly known as Izanami’s retreat after her death, so when you hear Yomi, you automatically associate it to Izanami. And there’s an interesting piece of lore when it comes to Yomi and Izanami : Izanagi’s rescue mission. Izanami died a horrible death after being burned giving birth to the fire god Kagutsuchi : she descended to Yomi. However, Izanagi, her husband (and brother but we don’t talk about that) found himself miserable. He missed her terribly and couldn’t live a life without her. That’s why he decided to make the trip to Yomi to get her back. Izanami ended up pleading to the Gods of Yomi to let her go back to Izanagi, and the Gods ended up making her an exception and allowing her to leave.

I’ll spare you the details but the story ends tragically with Izanagi trapping Izanami in Yomi forever, her ruling over it and the both of them pretty much getting divorced. 

Anyways. What matters is that when you talk about Yomi, it’s automatically linked to Izanami, and Izanami is automatically linked to Izanagi and his rescue mission. A rescue mission that also happened in HxH. Just like Izanagi, Gon decided to take the trip to Yomi, as the tour guide said, to rescue Killua from eternal damnation and be reunited with him once again.

Additionally and still in the spirit of the Yomi lore, the etymology of Yomi (黄泉) is uncertain, but it is theorized that it could come from 山, yama, meaning mountain. Izanami was buried in the mountains and Yomi was thought to be located in the mountains in ancient society, which is leading me to believe this could be the reason why the Zoldyck Estate has a mountain. So it could simply be because the Zoldyck Mansion is referred to as Yomi, and Yomi was thought to be in the mountains : hence the Zoldycks living on a mountain, fitting the Yomi lore perfectly.

There’s one last interesting thing about Yomi. Since Yomi is not Hell, it’s not where peoples’ souls go to get punished but more of a place of eternal wander, it’s oftentimes related to the Greek Underworld also known as Hades. So usually, when japanese media refers to something as Yomi, translators choose to go with “Hades”, which is the translation choice Viz made here.

So by insinuating the Zoldyck Mansion is considered as Yomi, it also connects it to the Greek Underworld, since the two are deeply connected. And interestingly enough, the first thing that pops into my head when I think of the Underworld is Orpheus and Eurydice’s story.

Orpheus and Eurydice fell in love at first sight, and enjoyed all their living moments together, however, this provoked the jealousy of one man who despised Orpheus and desired Eurydice for himself. After multiple events including a chase through the woods, Eurydice got bit by a deadly snake and died, leaving Orpheus heartbroken and alone. He couldn’t do anything but grieve and he lost his will to live without his beloved. That’s when he decided to take a trip to the Underworld in an attempt to get Eurydice back. Orpheus, armed with his lyre and his voice, was pretty much protected by the Gods as he walked through the Underworld and sang his song of love to anyone who would listen. His song and story brought tears to Hades and Persephone’s eyes, and Hades eventually accepted to make a deal with Orpheus : Eurydice has to follow him and he must not look back under any circumstance as long as they’re in the Underworld, or she will be sent back there forever. 

I’ll once again spare you the depressing details, but basically, Orpheus turned back because he couldn’t bear to not look at his beloved anymore, they got separated again and Orpheus ended up grieving his entire life, ending up being killed because of it.

So once again, here, there are similarities between Gon and Killua and Orpheus and Eurydice. Falling in love at first sight ; Illumi despising Gon and wanting Killua for himself and his family, thus ending up causing a separation and sending Killua to the Zoldyck Mansion ; Gon deciding to get Killua back. And for this one, there’s one interesting thing, and I thank @gallyl very much for telling me this, but it’s very important to note that Orpheus got Eurydice back because he sang songs of love and proved his devotion to Eurydice. Gon did the exact same thing. During those 7 chapters where Gon rescues Killua, the word friend is highlighted 7 times.

Gon, and therefore Togashi, makes it a point to emphasize that his rescue mission is solely based on his love for Killua. He’s doing it out of devotion and care for him. Just like Orpheus rescued Eurydice with his song of love and brought tears to everyone’s eyes, Gon managed to go through every hardship he faced by highlighting that Killua is his friend. That’s how he managed to convince Zebro to let him train to pass the gates, that’s how he got to Gotoh and to Canary, and eventually to Silva. Because he kept on saying that he’s doing this because of his love for Killua, which eventually softened all of these people and made them get on board with his rescue mission. 

Another parallel is the fact that Hades strikes a deal with Orpheus with a condition, and should the condition be broken, Eurydice will return to the Underworld. Here, it’s slightly different but still under the same spirit. Silva strikes a deal with Killua, making him promise to never betray his friend, and that if he does… he will be unworthy of his friends and will have to return home. 

There are also a few other references to the Underworld in the way Togashi portrays the Zoldyck Mansion and Silva and Kikyo, but I won’t get into it too much for fear of not being too objective and reaching, so I’ll just go over one. The Greek Underworld is kept by Cerberus, a gigantic 3 headed dog. And while Togashi didn’t make Mike a 3-headed dog, he did include 3 different dogs as gatekeepers of the Zoldyck Mansion, thus keeping a connection to the Cerberus lore.

So by making one random character talk about Yomi, the japanese underworld, Togashi calls back to those two myths : the japanese myth of Izanami and Izanagi and the greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. Togashi put imagery for both of these legends to emphasize that they are connected to the story, and as a way to further highlight the narrative of someone rescuing someone they deeply care about.

I never finished talking about Orihime and Hikoboshi’s story, so I’ll do it now! After being forbidden to meet, Orihime pleaded for her father to let her see Hikoboshi again, until he finally agreed to let them reunite on the 7th day of the 7th month. However, when they reunited for the first time, there was no bridge to cross for them to be able to meet. That’s when a flock of magpies came and promised to help the lovers reunite, creating a bridge between the two of them, and allowing them to finally reunite.

This is once again reminiscent of the Testing Gates arc. Killua asked his dad to be able to see Gon again, until he finally accepted. However, Gon found that it was hard to cross the metaphorical bridge that are all the hardships of the Zoldyck Mansion, until a bird finally helped him : Canary. Canaries are birds that symbolize happiness, freedom and that spread joy. On top of that, I could even reach a bit and highlight that magpies, the birds that reunited Orihime and Hikoboshi are mostly recognizable by their long black tail. Canary and Gotoh, butlers, are the main reason Gon managed to get to Killua, and butlers outfits are characterized with a longer back, reminiscent of a tail, detail that Togashi also put. So it’s easy with that to associate the butlers with the flock of magpie, since they’re the reason Gon managed to get back to Killua.

The Tanabata lore started from the moment we got introduced to Killua’s character up until Killua and Gon finally reunite, and this lore was complemented by 2 other legends that highlight this beautiful narrative of rescuing a loved one.

All 3 of these legends share common themes : they feature lovers who got separated for multiple reasons and one of them pleading to higher forces to let them have their lover back. There’s a common theme of love and devotion that ends up moving the higher forces and lets the person be reunited with their lover at last. All these missions were rescue missions done in the name of love : Orihime pleaded with her father out of love, Orpheus sang his song of love to plead to Hades to let him get Eurydice back, Izanami asked the Gods to let her come back to Izanagi. And Gon begged everyone to let him see his friend. He shouted on top of every rooftop that Killua was his friend and that he’s rescuing him out of love and devotion for him, and that’s exactly what made people help him get Killua back. It’s seeing Gon’s love that made people help him, just like in those legends.

So by giving us references to these legends, by making Gon and Killua follow the same tropes as these myths, Togashi is highlighting the beautiful narrative of Gon’s rescue mission. Togashi is putting little details and symbolism to give his story more depth and make us subconsciously link together a legend about lovers wanting to reunite after being separated, and two legends about people going on a rescue mission to save their loved ones. 

Killua’s story follows the Tanabata legend closely, he meets Gon and it’s love at first sight, they are happy together, until they’re separated. Then he gets sent back to the Mansion, Yomi, the Underworld, which prompts Gon to organize a rescue mission out of love, just like Izanagi and Orpheus. It’s thanks to this love that he moved Zebro, Canary, Gotoh and finally Silva, just like Izanami’s pleads moved the Gods and allowed her to (almost) leave, and just like Orpheus’ love songs moved Hades. Finally, they are reunited by a bird, Canary, and a flock of magpies, the butlers, just like in the Tanabata legend. The lovers are reunited at last, after a long rescue mission.

I can already feel the panicked asks, “but Tele, all these tales end tragically, is Killua and Gon’s relationship broken forever? Are they going to die?”. No. HxH is not a retelling of common legends. It’s not accurately and faithfully translating myths into a manga. It’s using cultural references to emphasize some narratives, and here, it’s the narrative of two lovers going against all odds to reunite with each other once again after being separated. I’ll link you to this post by @/buzzykrueger that explained it better than I could, but don’t worry, I can promise you, Togashi will never head this way. HxH is not a retelling of old tales, and he loves to subvert common classical tropes. He already subverted them many, many times in his manga, and I can guarantee you that Killua and Gon will be fine in the end.

Also, yes, I’m referring to Killua and Gon as lovers in this post, because Togashi made the conscious choice to refer to 3 pieces of lore focused on romantic love. 

Thank you for reading this ! If you’re interested, I’ll link all my references below! Also, Tumblr hates me and won’t let me appear in tags anymore, so reblogs are very appreciated. Ty for reading!

• On the general legend of Tanabata : here and here

• On Yomi : here and here

• On Izanami & Izanagi : here and here

• On Eurydice and Orpheus : here

#hxh #hxh meta #meta #my meta #killugon #idk why i even bother tagging tumblr hates me #reblogs r very appreciated!!

[serenityseventeen]

Love & Letter: To The Thirteen Boys I've Loved Before

The Sixth Letter

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

To: Lee Jihoon

From: Y/N

I'm sorry.

Jihoon, I will not blame you for anything. If I were in your shoes, I would have been even more irritated than you were. I'm still irritated, actually.

I know for certain that you probably hate me so I will begin this letter for you by reminding us of our good times when no one was there to butt in.

When we first met in tech audio, I was really surprised that you were a musical genius. You knew how to work the garage band app right away and since we sat next to each other, I could already tell that you were familiar with it.

You were also able to play the guitar and the piano. I've always liked music so seeing someone play those two instruments just fascinated me. Not only that, but you also played the clarinet well.

You've probably lived around music all your life, right? I listen to music almost everywhere I go, every day, it's one of my human needs, but I have to admit, even after learning a bit of piano from you, I still have almost no idea about music. Genres of music are still hard to identify for me and I can still barely tell the difference in chords. I'm still thankful that you took the time out of your worktime to help me understand more about music.

Honestly, when I first saw you, Jihoon, I was intimidated. You didn't like exactly friendly and I just stupidly thought that you were one of those ‘perfectionist’ students who only cared for their grades and being the best. Also, just the way you looked when you didn't smile gave me that impression. However, when you smiled, you looked completely different. You looked cute. We laughed a lot together too.

I bet you that on our first assignment, I must've looked like a complete tech idiot. The assignment was just to come up with your original piece of music by messing around on the app. Was my confusion that easy to see through?

I don't know, but I think the moment that you helped me was when I started to realize you as the person you are now. You taught me how to use the app in such a gentle tone, you know that? I still feel like I can listen to your voice forever and I won't get bored of it.

I was happy with our forming friendship. I felt like I could truly be your friend. Plus, we had one other class together so I was able to talk with you a lot about music. Everything you say fascinates me and makes me believe that you are a musical genius. I still believe that you are even if I can't hear your songs anymore.

Speaking of your music, I think you should become a ‘pro’ music producer, lyricist, composer, songwriter, of them all. Your talent in music is truly undeniable!

That first piece you showed me called “17”, I have to say that that song may be my favorite out of all the songs you've sent me. I still have all the music files stored in my phone and I'll never delete them. It's not because I still like you that I'm keeping them but it's because I like the song. I might put them into an mp3 player and stick them on the back of this letter. Out of the 13 songs you've shown me, there was not one that I disliked.

Your voice is also heavenly. I love it. I don't understand why you aren't getting yourself a whole career already! You don't know this but when I was playing your song “Rock”, my father was totally digging it! Even my next-door neighbor wanted to know who was the artist behind “20”!

There was also that time when you were helping me learn how to read music using the piano and our hands kept brushing against each other. Our shoulders were also glued together because the seat was so small. If your heart was racing just as much as how pink your ears turned, then please, believe me, my heart was beating twice as fast.

You didn't just teach me music and show me your creations, you also shared music that you enjoyed. A lot of the songs are still in my playlist. You have great taste in music too, Jihoon. I enjoyed every moment we spent just sitting at the window of the classroom, sharing headphones and listening to the songs you liked.

When they were love songs, I just couldn't help thinking that you chose the song for a reason. I'm quite an overthinker. I always thought that maybe one of the songs you showed me held your heart and maybe they did, but now I'll never know.

I'm your fan, Jihoon, even though you probably wouldn't want me to be anymore. I still admire you and I respect you a lot, that's why I'm deciding to write you this letter. I'm not going to get too close to you, I won't even try to bring us back to what we were because now, it's too awkward between us. I know that deep inside, you must feel so a deep hatred toward me, even if it wasn't entirely my fault.

I've realized what kind of person you are, Jihoon. You're kind, caring, talented in almost everything, shy, and stubborn. You love music. You hate it when someone who isn't close to you gets all up in your business as if they know everything. You also hate narcissists. You're selfless and humble.

I don't know who you told but I'm sorry. Your trust must have been completely broken. I mean, I can just imagine how painful it would be, being an introvert and telling someone your crush while trusting them to keep the secret only to have them spill it to the person's friends.

I hate my friends because they ruined our relationship but since they are my friends, I just can't abandon them as if we didn't spend years being best buddies. I've been distancing myself from them for a while now but I think it won't be long until we continue hanging out again. I want to hang out with you too but you must feel so... angry.

I heard that you're not friends with the guy who leaked the secret that you liked me. I truly hope that you can find a friend that is a true friend. I don't want you to live in fear and keep everything to yourself. I'll always be here for you though, so please, even if I don't speak with you, you can speak to me.

Gosh, what am I saying? It can't be fixed.

You must've overheard it when my friends dragged me away from your cafeteria table and whispered to me, “Did you know? He likes you!”

I was flustered and when I turned back to you, I still remember seeing your hands clench. That's when I sort of knew that we wouldn't be friends anymore.

Even after having your trust broken, you continued to hang out around me, which made me believe that if I confessed my feelings to you when the time was right, we could fall in love. So, I spent a lot of time learning about you.

That's when my friends came in again. They started teasing us in front of the whole class, saying all that stupid cheesy shit. I was ready angry and kept telling them to stop but they wouldn't because they just thought I was like them.

‘When you're in high school, you don't want the person in the relationship, you just want a relationship.’

That was not the case for me but that's what they thought. I wanted you, Jihoon. I was ready to teach you about me and get to know you better so that when I was ready to love, we would be able to stay together.

My friends are stupid.

They continued to pressure us to be together.

Knowing you, you must've gotten extremely annoyed and fed up with it, enough for you to end your friendship with me. And that's exactly what happened, right?

Each day, for a month, they came to our desks singing stupid love songs meant for children. They were so childish and I was growing so sick of it. I knew that you didn't like that shit. I knew that you were just enduring it but I couldn't stop it and I'm sorry.

We went through all that humiliation together. I think we could have had a better love story if your friend didn't leak your secret and my friends didn't act like children. I saw sparks in your eyes, that's why I had hope that we could fall in love together, but we couldn't even get ready to love.

I just remember that day when you ignored me. I was telling you that your piece sounded good and asked if I could get a listen, but you didn't reply to me at all. You still don't talk to me. It makes my heart ache.

When our friendship got ruined, I almost ruined my other friendships too. You don't know this but they kept pestering me, asking if you and I were finally dating and if we had a couple fight. They kept reassuring me as if they knew what we were going through and saying that it was just a small love fight and that we would recover soon. They didn't even know the problem was them so I yelled at them.

In the middle of the cafeteria, I slammed my hands on the table and shouted at them. I'm sure you heard me, you were in the same room. I'm pretty sure that you didn't know about this either but when I left the cafeteria in anger, I cried in the stall of a bathroom.

Now, I'm fine.

I wonder what you thought of me then. I mean, we still had to see each other but we didn't talk to each other like we were strangers. I was angry at you for not understanding me so I didn't want to speak or even glance in your direction, even if it did hurt to ignore you.

I think I know what you feel but all I'm thinking about your emotions are just assumptions in the end. You're a stranger to me now. A stranger that I loved.

You brought me the colors of music.

If only things didn't have to turn out so negatively. If only one friend kept his promise of keeping a secret... If only a group of friends didn't tease so annoyingly... Maybe then, things would be different.

Oh yeah, I'm sorry about this too. I overheard you playing a song the other day. Don't worry, I didn't record it but I cried to it. I just have a feeling that the song was about me. All the lyrics, the depressing but gorgeous sound of the piano, your emotional voice, it all brought tears to my eyes. Were you in pain?

I had never heard the song before. When I cried to it, I had my hands covering my mouth to keep noise from slipping. I don't know if you heard me because you just continued singing.

“Maybe I could have been a man

when everyone was telling me to.

But both choices were selfish,

keep you close or let me go,

so I chose

let's just not fall in love.”

I think your choice was for the better.

Sincerely,

Y/N

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

© serenityseventeen

6/21/21 - 11:01 am

a/n: sigh... I feel like this letter was so relatable on so many levels. My former friends were like that, always wanting a relationship but not the person in the relationship. They're too desperate. + ARTHUR KYEOM COMEBACK!??!? SVT CHINESE DRAMA OST!?!?

#love & letter: to the thirteen boys i've loved before #이지훈 #우지 #lee woozi #woozi scenarios #woozi seventeen #woozi #seventeen woozi #woozi imagines #svt woozi #woozi svt #lee jihoon imagines #lee jihoon #svt jihoon #seventeen jihoon #jihoon seventeen #jihoon #jihoon svt #lee jihoon scenarios #woozi oneshot #jihoon scenarios #seventeen kpop #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #seventeen imagines #svt kpop #svt imagines #svt #svt scenarios #kpop imagine