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babesonly · 3 years

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fic recs 2.0!

hello kings (gn) ive got significantly more fic than last time which means this is gonna be a little more organized than the last post bc it is much longer <3 categories in order are non casefic canonverse, casefic/roadtrip fic, finale fixits, endverse, non supernatural aus, and then non destiel ones. titles will be in bold for my favs! also within each category they’re in order from shortest to longest

Canonverse

I’m a tulip in a cup by godtiering (1.2k)

I worry that I never really came back from hell. I wonder why, if I got remade by heaven, I’m still the same screwed up kid that I always was.

Sometimes I worry I’m not into women at all.

"Guess not,” he looks at his shoes.

a REALLY good fic that’s basically just a look inside dean’s head during my bloody valentine do not read this looking for a fun time but please do read it

on vessels by flightsofangels (1.9k)

“You know,” Cas mutters into Dean’s bare skin. “When I was still… an angel, I used to dream that I would take you as my vessel.”

hello consumehimnatural fans!!!!! read newt’s fic right now its incredible

dean winchester is not a nicholas sparks protagonist by microcomets (1.9k)

Dean fell in love with Cas the way you fall asleep--slowly, and then all at once. Or some other hackneyed and trite bullshit. God, this is embarrassing.

dean is in LOVE. he’s also a disaster who keeps staring at cas’ hands. sigh

Stay by aeli_kindara (2.5k)

Coda to 13.06 (Tombstone). In which Castiel reckons with the aftermath of Dean's grief.

hello fellow widow arc fans <3 click here to see cas find out abt the events of advanced thanatology !

walking on a string by swordfishtrombones (2.7k)

Between the doomed offensive at the Firmament and the impending retreat from the ravaged northeast border, Castiel left camp long enough to answer one of Dean Winchester's prayers.

S6 DEAN IS A WAR WIFE. been really into early seasons deancas lately and this one is very good. god

the flesh of the mighty by Mudprophet (2.7k)

Ezekiel 39:17 "you shall eat the flesh of the mighty and drink the blood of the princes of the earth."

MY GOD. anyone who saw the @autisticandroids purgatory cannibalism talk and was interested read this right now. also anyone who enjoyed nbc hannibal OR raw (2016). if romantic cannibalism is remotely aligned with your interests read this right now. god

Sam Winchester, Ally At Law by alittleduck (3.3k)

Sam was pretty sure he could read every single gay friendly guide to coming out or supporting queer family members ever written and literally none of them would even imply that arguing with gay people that they were actually just homophobic constituted as "ally behavior". However, Sam was equally sure that none of those book authors had found themselves accidentally watching their brother get pounded by an Angel of the Lord at 9 am on Tuesday, so Sam was pretty sure he might actually still have the higher ground. Now, if only Jack would stop trying to bond with Dean using gay slurs long enough for Sam to convince everyone of that, he might just be able to cobble together some remnant of sanity or, failing that, dignity.

Or, the one where Sam desperately wants to invent PFLAG but Dean won't stop teaching Jack gay slurs

JACK VOICE HEY COCKSUCKERS.

hummed low by microcomets (3.3k)

Dean pulls the Impala over at a cider barn about thirty miles out; doesn't really think about it, just sees the hokey orange lettering off the roadside and lets his hands guide the Impala off the interstate with gravel spitting under the wheels.

they get a nice day out together and dean has a gay crisis and it’s written beautifully mwah

Vena Amoris and Other Old-Fashioned Bullshit by pyrebi (3.9k)

In which angelic marriage bonds are apparently stupidly easy to trigger, Cas wages multidimensional war in Heaven, Dean can't catch a break like ever, Sam rather enjoys being a dick, love saves the day, and nobody consummates anything.

sometimes i think about this fic and it hits that at this point dean and cas would have been married for more than a year. cas my beloved...

an exploration of gender; angelic by sometimeswelose (4k)

Castiel's true form is made of electromagnetic radiation. He has spent the majority of his life, if you really want to add it all up and average the whole thing out, as a wavelength of celestial intent.

The thing about being made of light: it's light in the physics sense of the word. Castiel's waves are gamma, x-ray, micro, and radio. He's visible light too, of course, a visible light so intense that it is blinding to most humans.

hello trans cas community <3 he’s literally trans he was assigned genderless and then went hm actually i will be a man! love of my life

Some Boys are Sleeping Alone by prosopopeya (4.2k)

This isn't something that's okay, not for him, but it chases him through the years until it turns into something he can't -- doesn't want to deny.

ohhh deans tenuous relationship with his sexuality my beloved...

love. worship. consummation. consumption. by redeyedwrath (4.3k)

ConsumehimNatural (copyright marcusantonius) the Series!

These are all snapshots centered around the idea of you know. Hunger in Supernatural. Both carnal hunger and other kinds. Fics are shown in semi-chronological order but this series is generally nebulously early seasons.

for ANYONE who is a consumehimnaturual this is required reading it is INCREDIBLE and gorgeous and very visceral and i am so very obsessed with it. thank you redeyedwrath for enabling my brainrot

the reach of human sense by perilously (4.5k)

“You know what Jimmy Novak looked like. You think he was beautiful—gorgeous, hot, all of it. It’s him. Not me. This isn’t my face.”

“But,” Dean says. He doesn’t know where he’s going with it. Just that Cas’ face is right there, brows drawn together and cheekbones gleaming in the lamplight. It’s a face that’s made his heart skip probably a couple hundred beats collectively since they met.

And it used to belong to someone else.

this one is just very nice <3 cas gets uncomfortable w dean calling him attractive since dean has never seen his trueform and they work it out

Down in the River by Ias (4.7k)

Alone in Purgatory and hunted by Leviathans, Castiel finds himself praying to the one person who can't hear him.

cas i love you <3 cas alone in purgatory praying to dean bc dean is the only thing he still worships i love you so much

Creature of Habit by trinityofone (5.1k)

The more you love someone, the more you want to kill them. Or: How Cas developed some bad habits, and Dean coped surprisingly well.

written in s5 when cas was depowered and completely nails the later seasons bitchy husbands dynamic it’s very good and fun <3

sink by crackers4jenn (5.4k)

"Where to?" A 9.06 coda.

very bittersweet very well written and also canon compliant so do not go into this one looking for a happy ending but i DO recommend it it’s very good

Sensational by castiowl (6.1k)

“When I first came to earth, it was advised that we temper the senses bound to our vessels. They were a distraction, we were told. An antiquated form of experiencing existence that would hinder our ability to complete our missions, whatever that may be. My true form can better facilitate these experiences. What you would recognize as heightened senses of sight and sound, among other things.”

Or, how Dean helps Cas experience all five human senses for the first time in one night.

early seasons deancas man. i love the sound part i love dean being so worried about doing a good job with this. god. read this please

Something to Protect by Sass_Master (6.2k)

Dean’s violent reaction to being unexpectedly woken has become something of a running joke among them, but Castiel can’t help but look past it to the underlying cause. It makes him ache to think that Dean feels so unsafe, so persecuted, before he’s even fully conscious.

Secretly, Castiel has been determined to work on that, to ease Dean into awareness in a less jarring way, smooth away one of the many stresses that follow him even in sleep. Now’s as good a time as any to try.

oh to sleep more soundly in the presence of someone you love...this fic is very nice i enjoyed it a lot

all this and heaven too by ftmsteverogers (7k)

“Hey,” Dean said. “I’m not ashamed of you, okay?”

Cas raised skeptical eyes to meet his.

“I mean it,” Dean insisted.

“I understand you mean it,” Cas said. “But I don’t think it’s any better if you’re only ashamed of yourself.”

hello trans dean community here is 7k of trans dean having to deal with his internalized homophobia now that he’s sleeping with cas <3 it is SO good

The wilderness. by orange_crushed (8k)

He takes a shower and the pressure is not especially good, but it doesn’t matter. It’s warm and he stands under the spray a long time. Human skin, he knows, constantly renews itself, shedding the dead cells of the epidermis. He wonders how long it will take until he is an entirely new person, until every cell on his surface is a new one. He looks at his hands under the water. It might take less than a month.

this might be the only post 9x03 fic on here with a happy ending actually? plenty of good melancholy leading up to it though <3 canon divergent after 9x03 though which means no 9x06 fanfiction gap but it is absolutely worth reading

till the juice runs by deathbanjo (8.4k)

Apparently whoever drew up the venn diagram of Dean’s sex life decided the circle labelled ‘good sex’ and the one labelled ‘sex with men’ should be kept far apart.

hello this one is SO funny dean finally gets comfortable enough with his bisexuality to start having sex with men and it goes so very bad every time so sorry about your shitty choices beloved </3

First Date by aeli_kindara (8.9k)

“We should go on a date. You and me.”

Castiel wishes he could see Dean’s face. He wishes he had any idea what to say.

“I’m asking you out, Cas.”

this one is very sweet i liked it a lot <3 good refreshing little fic where they just get to have a nice evening together

Entertaining Strangers by cadignan (9k)

Dean settles on to his side, lying in the bed facing Castiel. “So you had sex without me and you bit all my moves. I think I deserve to hear about it, at least. What was her name?”

op im in love with you. premise is established relationship deancas and cas mentions he did have sex before dean and not only that it was a threesome. good for him <3 this fic is cas describing the story of what led up to the threesome and what happened during it while dean interrupts regularly. incredible

the shape you take by noviembre (10k)

“What?” Dean says, fake-offended. “I’d be hot as a girl, you know I would.”

And this is when he really, really should have stopped talking. When he shouldn't have whipped back around and asked, “Cas, if I was a woman, you’d fuck me, right?”

Because if he hadn’t said that, then he wouldn’t have had to deal with this:

Cas, meeting his eyes, forehead wrinkles all smoothed out like there’s nothing to be confused about anymore. Cas with something at the corner of his mouth that might barely be called a smile.

Cas saying, calmly and without hesitation, “Yes, Dean.”

Dean Winchester fucks around and, with the inadvertent help of some witches, Finds Out.

dean winchester your gender is diabolical. this fic is insane and its the only thing that matters actually. dean fully convinced its normal and straight to think about being a woman so you can fuck your male friend. incredible. op im proposing to you

Sinnerman by a_good_soldier (10k)

Dean listens to Nina Simone, reads Anne Carson, and makes out with a dude (sort of).

yall want to read about dean realizing he’s in love with a man as a direct result of learning to better respect women right?

you’re fooling yourself by cowboydeanwinchester (13k)

Dean Winchester and Castiel retire from hunting to raise baby Jack. Dean struggles to allow himself the things he truly wants.

Jack is two, Castiel and Dean are idiots, and Sam's gotta solve everyone's problems.

love a married couple who doesn’t know they’re married <3 everyone say thank you sam for bullying dean

The Girlfriend Experience by rageprufrock (15k)

While it's not like Dean hasn't had a couple of truly regrettable hit-and-runs in his sexual history, this is probably the saddest fucking thing that has ever happened to him.

a classic for good fucking reason. we’ve all talked about dean thinking holding hands is too gay after having just had gay sex but my personal favorite was sam accusing dean of cheating on cas because dean bought condoms. incredible

No Kingdom To Come by domesticadventures (16k)

“We should fuck,” Dean says.

Cas looks up from where he sits on his bed, hair still damp from the shower, frowning as he places a finger on the page of his book to mark where he left off.

There are a million things Cas could say here; Dean has rehearsed them. After lunch, his restlessness had given way to a vague panic, a dread that matched his every step and crept along with him from room to room. Eventually, he had returned to his bedroom and spent the rest of the afternoon pacing back and forth, playing out all the possible scenarios. When Cas asks him Why? or Are you being serious? or when he sighs and says, in that way he has, Dean, he knows exactly what he’s going to do. He’s going to shrug casually, like he isn’t invested in the answer, like he isn’t desperate for an outlet, and say, Why not? He’s going to raise an eyebrow and say, What, are you not interested? He’s going to crowd into Cas’ personal space, he’s going to shove himself right up in there and whisper Cas against his ear.

Instead, Cas says, carefully, “Okay.”

literally the only quarantine fic i’ve ever bothered to read in any fandom and completely worth it it’s SO good. they become fwb and dean has an existential crisis and he keeps bringing up meaninglessness and death during sex

Bodies by Speary (18k)

It was a secret they never acknowledged even with each other. It would change everything, end everything if either of them ever dropped the act. So they became very good at acting, at keeping up the lie that gave them what they wanted. Even if that lie involved constantly seeking out temporary, consenting female vessels, Cas would do it. He told himself it was worth it for Dean. He just hoped that he could stop wanting more, or maybe one day Dean might stop pretending that he wasn't really sleeping with Cas every time.

i don’t even have anything to add tbh if that summary did not immediately make you click we are very different this fic is incredible. god. fellas do you ever make yourself a woman so you can fuck the man you love without him having to talk about it or confront his sexuality

it’s such a mystery (the way you know me) by fleeceframe (20k)

So the man crouching in front of Castiel is named Dean. He wonders if that’s supposed to mean something to him.

“Cas must’ve got hit with something earlier. He just dropped like a sack of fucking potatoes a minute ago. By the time I was checking on him, he had already woken up again, but now he doesn’t fucking know who we are.”

“I’m right here you know,” Castiel says testily.

Sam’s eyes are wide even as his eyebrows are furrowed, and he looks between Dean and Castiel again.

“What do you remember, Cas?”

“Firstly, that I’m not Cas. I don’t know who Cas is, but it’s not me. I don’t know who either of you are, either."

or the one where castiel is hit with a memory curse that makes him forget the winchester brothers and is stunned to find out he has a family... also why can't he stop thinking about dean?

BEST amnesia fic oh my god. cas my beloved you deserve the world. everyone read this that is not a request.

More Than Ever by Sass_Master (20k)

Dean’s getting some pancakes together for breakfast when Cas saunters in after a run.

He’s trying to focus on whisking batter, unfairly distracted by Cas a few feet away, breathing heavily and shining with perspiration. Dean’s been painfully aware for a long time that Cas is pretty easy on the eyes, but he’s used to seeing Cas buttoned-up and unflappable, looking straight-laced in a stiff oxford and an unflattering trenchcoat.

Now Cas is sweating, Dean’s borrowed t-shirt clinging to his skin, flushed from exertion and Dean really can’t deal with that in his kitchen right now.

this entire series is really good i enjoyed it a lot, i’m just putting this one specifically on the list bc the rest of the series is very explicit and this is really good as a standalone for anyone who wouldn’t be into the rest of the series!!

Being Dean Winchester by Anonymous (20k)

"You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in."

Who the fuck was this bitchy "warrior of God" doing talking to him like that? Fuck Cas-tee-el and his dumbass trench coat and abrasive motherfucking attitude.

Dean was done with this shit.

***

Wherein a monster of the week steals the essence of Castiel's vessel, so he must use Dean, recently raised from hell, as a vessel instead.

it is at this point i realize that there are more fics than i expected there to be on this list that involves a threesome with only two people/using the presence of a female body to act like what’s happening is heterosexual. deangirlism is a disease

I Shall Not Want by domesticadventures (20k)

His grace is burning out, and the wasteland it leaves inside him becomes an echo chamber for all the memories, all the fear and doubt and self-loathing he's collected over the years. Things said and done hound him on endless repeat until he's convinced they’ll break through his skin and fill the silence of the bunker.

His head is killing him, and he sits hunched over an open book, not really reading, just digging his fingers into his skull and praying nothing slips through the cracks.

this one is GORGEOUS i love it so so much. dean and cas are both struggling so much to get by and they’re trying to support each other but fucking it up and they have to grow together and learn to cope with the fact that this is where their lives are and they fall in love i need everyone to read this

To Boldly Go by 8daysuntiltheapocalypseiguess (24k)

Title: Just One of Those Things Author: Impala67 Series: TOS Rating: M Summary: Four years into their five-year mission, and all the planets start to look the same.

In which Dean is not Gene Roddenberry, but he does write Star Trek fanfiction.

mx winchester writing star trek fanfiction to process his own trauma <3 this is a wip but it’s SO good and i also have not consumed a single piece of star trek media so it IS definitely readable to anyone who isn’t a star trek fan. please read this

where the weeds take root by deathbanjo (30k)

“Are you happy? Y’know. Just—being here,” Dean says, gesturing to the yard with his beer bottle. “Being with—I mean, you used to fight in celestial wars and—and save the world. Now you’re growing vegetables and talking about chickens.”

this is on here just for the 1.5 people who were putting off this one like i did for no reason. it’s extremely good and it is just gentle. i enjoyed it a lot

Heroes for Ghosts by pantheon_of_discord (42k)

After Sam and Dean are arrested, Castiel is left alone and scrambling to find them. He knows they’re locked away in a government facility, and he’s still able to hear their prayers, but no matter how he tries Castiel can’t seem to track them. He chases leads and even attempts to hunt on his own, but Mary is AWOL, Crowley refuses to help, and Castiel’s options are running out.

Weeks pass, Castiel’s hope dwindles, and through it all Dean prays, keeping them connected. His voice is comforting, frustrating, and occasionally annoying, but in his solitude Castiel comes to cherish it. But then one day, without warning, Dean stops praying, and Castiel is forced to confront some uncomfortable truths about his feelings.

yall ever wonder what it would’ve been like if the sam and dean arrest storyline in s12 was interesting? yeah <3

Teaching Poetry to Fish by aeli_kindara (52k)

In which Castiel teaches poetry to fish. Also, himself. Also, eventually, Dean.

(A series-long story, diverging slightly from canon after S14.)

cas learning about humanity through poetry before dean and thats what led to him developing enough emotion to be lobotomized....cas i love you so much

Emergence by ellispark (58k)

Something’s been missing from Dean’s life for the past three years, a void left after a hunt gone terribly wrong. He often feels a sense of longing with no discernible cause, a need to talk to someone who isn’t there.

A call from an acquaintance leads Dean to James Novak, a man who disappeared more than a decade ago, and suddenly Dean gets the feeling he’s found what he’s been missing. But James isn’t really James — he’s the angel Castiel, who’s wanted by angels, demons and hunters alike. And he may be at the center of the storm that wrecked Dean’s life all those years ago.

another cool amnesia fic!! for unknown reasons everyone forgot cas three years ago but cas didn’t forget anything. cas deserves so much love and support. god

a turn of the earth by microcomets (95k)

Dean’s your typical half-orphaned, monster-killing 22-year-old until a trenchcoated stranger crashes into his back windshield one September night, claiming he’s an angel that knows him from the future and that he’s on the run.

Frigging fantastic.

(Or, in which Castiel gets stuck in Dean’s timeline preseries and Dean kind of hates it—until he doesn’t.)

cas getting to meet and fall in love with pre hell dean just as much as he loves the dean he already knows oh my GOD. i love this fic so much. turn of the earth my beloved

Crossing Lines by sometimeswelose (122k)

Two Deans, one Cas - it's not as sexy as it sounds

An ethics lesson from Hell

The one where Dean from the past meets Dean in the present. They're not sure they like each other very much.

deans intense self hatred vs cas’ unwavering love for every version of dean oh my GOD also this is a wip fair warning but it’s so worth waiting for updates i’m having such a great time with this one i cannot wait to see how it gets ended

Plot Holes by saltyfeathers (160k)

Of course it wasn’t over after the apocalypse.

There was season six. Then there was season seven. Against all expectations, there was season eight. There were the alphas and purgatory, and then the Leviathans, and then the angels fell. Enter season nine. Loose threads Metatron, Abaddon, and Crowley have to be tied up. Sam, Dean, and Cas have to try to tie them while at the same time dealing with their evolving relationships and newfound graceless states.

Amidst all the chaos, someone has started publishing the Supernatural novels again. Convinced there’s something amiss in the pages, Charlie starts her own quest to suss out the truth behind the Winchester Gospels.

With the help of various faces, old and new, they must now not only deal with the typical runs of demons and recently fallen angels, but also reconcile the battles raging inside themselves, as the fate of the world, once again, quite literally lays in the palm of their hands.

saltyfeathers said i WILL make the plot holes in this show mean something because the showrunners are sure as shit never gonna adress them ! and i thank them for it bc this was a really cool read

Casefic/Roadtrip Fic

Deprived Of Every Planet by KelpietheThundergod (9k)

Dean's breathing is audible in the scant space between them, irregular. The motel room is dark, pale blue shadows falling in through the gaps in the blinds. Throwing a pattern of uneven white stripes over the bunched up covers. Over Dean's fingers twisted in the sheets. One half of him in shadow, softened by the dark. The heat of his skin. The tremble of him under Castiel's touch.

He caresses a hand over Dean's chest, slowly. Dean's mouth falls open, his body arching into Castiel's touch. Castiel stops over Dean's heart. Through the fever of his desire, he rejoices about the wonder of experiencing another's heartbeat through one's own senses.

Dean gasps, but then he turns his face away and towards the dark. Eyes closed tight and brows furrowed like something is hurting him.

Castiel stills.

“Dean?”

the case is background on this one but it Does take place over the course of a case so im putting it here. god touchstarved dean trying so hard to work through his shit for cas head in my hands i love this fic so much

before and after breakfast by spocklee (10k)

The monster of the week is a ghost who hates meat, alcohol, and feeling yourself. Guess who it is during the commercials.

chapter 2 of this one.....god. dean and cas you are both so unwell <3 i love everything abt this fic everyone read it now

we shovel all the ashes out by xylodemon (15k)

Dean’s always known things were headed this way. He just figured getting dragged under would be cleaner and easier than jumping in feet-first.

fics that make you go Oh they love each other...also there’s lesbians in it literally what else could you want.

thunder road by dothraki_shieldmaiden (20k)

After Chuck is defeated and the Winchesters settle into life without God, Dean Winchester is bored.

OR: Dean and Cas take a road trip and figure out some stuff along the way.

this fic is just like. it’s kind! this fic is kind it’s just a pleasant experience and i enjoyed it thoroughly. they’re in love and it’s good

Suck It, Judy Garland by GlitterDwarf, midrashic (20k)

It had to be St. Louis. Or, the one where Sam and Cas get fake married for a case, and Dean loses his mind.

actually im gonna defend dean here imagine youre dean and cas gives what definitely sounded like a deathbed love confession while making eye contact with you and then immediately afterwards fake dates your brother. who among us would not have been a bitch about this

best friends without benefits by lizbobjones (20k)

It’s nearing three a.m. and they’ve been on the road a long time. Sam’s been asleep in the back seat since eleven. Giving up and handing the wheel over to Cas and letting the guy who doesn’t sleep drive had seemed like a good idea.

the premise of this fic is so funny. cas voice dean you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid. everyone read this

the taste of gravel in the mouth by deathbanjo (22k)

This is what Cas gave up Heaven for: greasy diner food, shitty motel rooms with even shittier cable, long car rides spent in complete silence except for the same six tapes playing over and over again, and a burnt-out husk of a man who can barely hold a conversation anymore.

alt version of getting rid of the mark of cain, the darkness never happens. this one is VERY heavy but it’s so good and it has a hopeful ending. ive read this one twice and loved it both times

Someone Who’s Feeling For Me by ellispark (45k)

Dean sees her for the first time in nearly six years in some no-name town in Idaho, and it's panic at first sight.

Lisa Braeden, the one woman Dean ever actually had a shot at a real life with, back from where he buried her in his mind. And her hand is on Cas's arm like it's no big deal, like it belongs there. Cas, Dean's dorky, sweet, badass, angelic best friend, and he's just standing there next to Lisa and not moving her hand away.

Dean feels the jealousy rising, and it's not directed where he expected it to be. Because it takes this exact moment for Dean to realize he's in love with his best friend. He's in love with his best friend, and Lisa is looking at Cas like he's the best thing since automatic rifles, and Dean is utterly fucked.

hello op please contact me. please contact me and let me see the inside of your brain. this fic was an unparalleled experience and everyone should also go through it. i love it so very much

Bumper Cars by mansikka (111k)

Two teenagers are missing from an abandoned carnival, and there’s enough to raise suspicion that their disappearance involves a ghost. Dean, Sam, and Cas arrive in town to investigate, though what they find leads them away from those teenagers, and on the trail of a ghost story that churns up things from their past.

Can newly-human Cas, and Dean, with the help of shipper!Sam, work out the mystery behind the abandoned carnival and its ghost, and along the way, figure out the riddle that is them?

one of my absolute fav case fics it forces dean to confront some aspects of johns parenting and work through some shit and also him and cas fall in love and it’s really well done. love this one a lot <3

Finale Fix-its/Finale Denial

Sorry Jimmy by K_K_TiBal (2.1k)

Based on the tumblr textpost:

jellydeans: so are cas and jimmy novak just up in heaven existing at the same time katebushstandean: #jimmy moves to heaven timbuku so that dean stops trying to make out with him every time they run into each other at the heaven grocery store

this one is just extremely funny. local midwestern heterosexual man is forced to play relationship counselor to the dumbest gay people in existence because one of them wore his face

Dean Winchester Really Needs To Make Some Gay Friends by AreYouReady (2.2k)

“Like, I’m trying to think if I’ve had, I don’t know, crushes. If I ever had a gay thing before you came along and just didn’t notice,” Dean said.

Cas suddenly looked down, and away from Dean. If Dean didn’t know better, he would swear Cas looked guilty.

“What is it, Cas?”

“You have had several… gay things before.” Cas still wouldn’t look at him.

“What? When? How come you know this better than I do?”

There was no way the answer to this question wasn’t funny as hell.

dean learning about gay ppl via the memories of dean smith...incredible.

tiny difference (between ending and starting to begin) by sunforgrace (2.4k)

Sometimes Dean catches Cas staring at the sky.

It doesn’t happen often. Not when Dean’s around to tell, anyway. But often enough that he starts to notice.

Eventually Dean starts to recognize the pattern.

Cas just doesn’t watch the sky. He watches the birds.

Chuck is gone, Cas is human, and the world is safe. In the quiet aftermath Dean and Castiel find each other again.

i really don’t have much to say abt this one it is just very good and they love each other so much

Bring Home by cenotaphy (3.8k)

Dean's phone doesn't ring on the drive back to the Bunker, but that's okay. Because—well, maybe Cas lost his cell, what with getting shuffled back and forth between a cosmic void dimension and all. And anyway, Dean doesn't want this conversation to happen over the phone, he wants to—he wants to talk to Cas face-to-face. They should talk face-to-face.

Dean will tell him—

Dean doesn't know what he'll tell Cas. Dean is, in fact, terrified by how utterly and completely he does not know what he'll say to Cas.

cas being forced to face the consequences of sending the risky text that was despair <3

dean’s coworkers vs the heteronormative agenda by cowboydeanwinchester (4.1k)

Dean started working at a local auto repair shop in Lebanon, Kansas about a year ago. His coworkers don't know much about him. Except that he has a wife. Or maybe he doesn't. But he has a kid. Who is either a toddler or a high schooler. Who is either named Jack or Sammy. He also might have a best friend named Cas, but that also might be his wife.

Truth is nobody knows what to make of Dean.

obsessed w people not knowing a single fucking thing about dean because he talks so much and never explains anything. this fic is SO funny

Enhanced Extraction Techniques by goldenraeofsun (5.8k)

The Empty takes Meg’s shape, Samandriel’s, Duma’s, every one of the thousands of angels Cas killed up in heaven. But in the middle of lecturing Cas in the form of Balthazar, it explodes in a burst of light and sound.

Dean Winchester stands in the aftermath.

the empty playing mind games on an awake cas bc it can’t put him to sleep is a thing i like a lot and this is very very good

Speak Silence No More by rea_sunshine (8.1k)

When Dean imagined this moment, it went like this:

Dean bursts into the Empty—guns blazing, chin high, righteous anger coursing through him. No matter what form his plans and fantasies and whiskey-drunk-whispered-promises took, he is always, always successful. When he imagined it, he was finally the hero Cas deserved.

The reality of the moment is this:

It’s fucking cold.

dean and cas STILL managing to not communicate with each other properly after the confession is so funny to me and this fic does it really well. also i like that a human being in the empty, where humans do NOT belong, had some like. consequences

my heart is a compass by lagaudiere (10k)

“There you are,” the Empty says, in Dean’s voice. It’s cold, like Dean’s eyes are cold, his expression set in contempt. It’s the expression Cas feared, he realizes, all the times he thought about saying it. Revulsion. It makes him feel sick in the way that goes beyond physical, here where there is nothing physical left.

The moment before it happened had been so sweet it covered up all the hurt. For years, Cas had been holding back those words, biting down on his tongue to keep from saying them. And now he had said it, and he knew that it was good, knew that it was worth it. But on the other side there is only this.

In the Empty, Cas dreams of his regrets, until someone comes looking for him.

one of thee best dean rescues cas from the empty fics out there i love the way his memories are written i love how many of them were ones that this fic came up with to give me new things to have brainworms over instead of just making me more fixated on He Watched Him Rake Leaves than i already am

killing time by orestespdf (11k)

It's been four years since Dean saved Cas from the Empty and confessed his feelings in return, and in their Vermont lakehouse, the retired couple is now learning how to heal. One morning, Dean gives Cas a haircut.

(A character study of Castiel.)

perfect fic perfect fic no notes no complaints they love each other so much and now dean is giving cas a haircut and they’re spending the day together. god.

and every time we kiss, i swear i can fly by knameless (14k)

Every time, Dean tells himself it’s the last.

aka, twelve times dean and cas kiss.

a just boy best friends kiss for every season <3 mwah

for which no words exist by MediaWhore (14k)

'a prayer for which no words exist' // richard siken

"Dear Cas who art in my bathtub, give me the strength to be honest about how I feel. For your sake and for mine. Forgive me all the times I wasn’t in the past, all the words I should have said but didn’t. And please stay. Please stay with me when all is said and done. Amen. "

Dean rescues a newly human Cas from the Empty. That's the easy step.

mediawhore i am in LOVE with you oh my god this fic. this fic. dean taking care of cas after rescuing him dean wrapping cas in a blanket oh my GOD

swimming with the fish pond fish by februyuri (17k)

Some time between Dean bleeding out on a makeshift hook in a barn in Ohio and Sam making marshmallows on his funeral pyre, Dean was brought back to life. By Castiel. Again. Dean agreed to it if only to give Jack time to work out the glitches up top. So, now Dean’s back in the land of the living and things are ... actually good, for once.

Or, as good as they can be when demons are attacking Earth, Dean’s failing to get over why he died in the first place, and Cas is suddenly, inexplicably taking every opportunity to casually tell Dean that he loves him.

this is a wip! but it is so good and so worth the read i love it a lot and am very excited for the last chapter. it IS pretty heavy though dean has a LOT to work through

looking like a true survivor (feeling like a little kid) by courfeyrac (20k)

"Jack’s a clever kid—has been ever since he was born, maybe even before that—but Dean’s pretty sure he hasn’t figured out where they’re going yet. And Dean’s… Dean’s excited about it. He remembers planning surprises for Sammy when they were little—saving up quarters and sneaking off to the arcade the year he turned seven, or slipping a book Dean had seen Sammy admiring into his jacket before sprinting out of the store the year he turned twelve. There was only so much Dean could give him back then, hindered by lack of finances and transportation and a father who paid attention. Now, though, Dean’s got a wallet full of cash, a tank full of gas, and the freedom to give his kid the kind of birthday he deserves."

Or, it's Jack's fourth birthday, and the kid wants to go to Build-A-Bear.

EVERYONE READ THIS RIGHT NOW. that is not a request this fic undid me. oh my god. oh my god. they’re a family and they’re going to build a bear and they love each other. oh my god. also no it isn’t a baby jack fic he is 4 and he is also alcal

what’s missing is found (our souls can exhale now) by sobsicles (27k)

It's not the first time Claire has ever gone missing. It is, however, the first time Kaia panics about it. Dean's dragged into the mess, but he soon finds that it's the best thing that could have happened to him.

~~~

"But have you ever just met someone and maybe it wasn't from the first moment, maybe it was after all these other moments that meant more than you ever expected them to, and it seems like your soul just—just—" Kaia makes a helpless gesture with her hands, pushing out, and she breathes out loudly. "Like it can finally exhale. And that person isn't guaranteed to make you happy, but they're—they're important. You just know it, you can't even escape it, you can't let them go. Ever met someone like that, Dean?"

"I—" Dean halts, his mouth hanging open. He's looking at Kaia, who's looking at him, and his heart is fluttering in his throat like a caged bird aching to soar again. His mind threatens to spiral out of control, but he focuses, swallowing hard. "Yeah. Um. I—yeah, I have."

deancas AND dreamhunter we love to see it also dean DOES smoke weed with kaia and apologizes for pulling a gun on her what more could you want in a fic

Command Me To Be Well by prospopeya (28k)

Dean did a lot of thinking about when and how he would get Cas back. Months of it, actually, stretching into a year, because while Sam and Eileen were settling into their new lives, Dean was stuck. He was stuck in a faraway corner of the bunker, dark and empty and hollow, ringing with the sound of a vibrating phone.

So when he falls to his knees in that same room, exhausted, hurting, breathless, and he feels a hand on his shoulder and looks up to see Cas, he realizes that he doesn't have a single clue about what to do now. Getting Cas out had been easy--actually, it'd been the opposite of that--but the planning of it, the methodical desperation of one attempt after the other had been a familiar rhythm. It'd been soothing almost, solid, something to focus on that wasn't Cas's eyes, watery and jubilant in a way Dean hadn't ever seen that up close on anyone, let alone Cas.

And now Cas is pulling him to his feet, and Dean's stumbling, and he instinctually grabs Cas's arm, and his hand lights up with a fire that he isn't prepared for.

"Hello, Dean."

oh post despair lack of communication....oh dean refusing to work through his feelings...this fic is incredible i love it everyone who enjoys dean doing everything in his power to avoid talking about feelings up to and including having sex with the guy who’s in love with him multiple times should read this

break the skin (to break the barriers) by sobsicles (29k)

The first time she meets him, he's nothing more than an almost-missed appointment.

SOBSICLES TATTOO FIC MY BELOVED. dean grieving and getting tattoos and it turns into tattoo therapy. im SO in love with mitzi it’s insane. requires some suspension of disbelief for how long a tattoo takes but it’s an incredible fic and an unparalleled experience. sobsicles does not miss

ascend by quiettewandering (53k)

Something in the world is wrong.

Demon activity is rising where mysterious black substance oozes and unusual ecological events are shaking the world. Dean, grief hanging on his shoulders, restlessly searches for answers that might lead him to the Empty… and to Cas.

But what Chuck wrote can’t be undone. The narrative thread pulls Dean along, forcing him to comply. Because once a story already has an ending, it can’t be rewritten.

Or can it?

SUPER cool concept i liked this a lot i’m pretty sure everyone’s read it already but just in case someone hasn’t you absolutely should

oh sooner or later it all comes down to faith by sobsicles (62k)

Getting used to Heaven is something of a marvel. It ain't perfect, and Dean thinks he'd hate it if it was, which is probably why it isn't.

~~~

"You don't understand," Dean whispers, exhaling shakily. "I know you don't, because even I don't. The instant you were gone, I wanted you back. Cas, I wanted you back. I wanted—I wanted—"

Cas stares at him, searching his face. After a moment, his own face falls slack, eyes widening just so. "Oh," he breathes out.

Dean wants to be furious that Cas has figured it out before he has—whatever it is—but he's not even that surprised. Cas knows him too well, always has, even more than Dean knows himself. He's been kicking Dean in the goddamn teeth with how deeply he understands him, even about the things Dean doesn't, ever since they first met. You don't think you deserve to be saved, that's what Cas had said. All bundled up in impossibilities and power, this being that looked at Dean Winchester and knew every single inch of him, as if he had a right to each part.

"What?" Dean grits out.

"I love you, too."

the ONLY heaven fic. i do not read heaven fics bc i refuse to budge in my finale denialism i refuse to read fic where it is accepted that dean dies. i was hesitant to read this but god im glad i did it was so good. literally the best possible outcome of dean dying

Endverse

final fantasy. by orange_crushed (1.9k)

“If I’d actually been born human, would I have gotten sick like everyone else? Would I be running around gnawing on the neighbors?” Castiel tilts his head up and even from here Dean can see the black ring of his pupils, wide and dark as dead stars. He’s high as fuck and he’s been loading the guns for forty-five minutes. He stares into the space where Dean is. He smiles and shows his teeth. “Maybe you’d have already put a bullet in my head.”

"This is why you don’t lead storytime anymore," Dean says. "This kind of shit."

endverse last night on earth fics are something that can be so personal actually. god

The Last Song by Moorishflower (3.5k)

The very last song is the Song of Solomon, and Castiel sings it only for Dean. Set in "The End."

this is like. pre endverse and the tone is so like. wistful? is the best word ive got? it’s gorgeous i love it but fair warning there is graphic description of like. viscera and infected wounds

to think that we could stay the same by cipherwriter (6.5k)

cas has all he needs; himself, his creation, and enough power to continue this cycle for a long time. he's fine. dean wants to take care of him anyway.

oh my GOD this one is good it’s based off the thing of how originally endverse cas was supposed to be just sitting in a room killing and resurrecting the same cockroach over and over. very bittersweet at some points i love it a lot, do not read it if youre looking for something happy though lmao

the first church at the end of the world by withbloodstainedclothingon (11k)

The angels don’t eat the brain. Only Croats do that.

this one is fucked but it’s incredible it contains very heavy and violent subject matter and cas is an Actual cult leader he doesn’t just have orgies it is SO well done and i had a great time reading it i recommend it very highly if the warnings sound like something you can stomach

Down to Agincourt by seperis (1.1 million. i know. yes it’s a wip)

There is no such thing as a guarantee when it comes to war.

The outcome's known. Why try? Return your rusty sword to battered sheath, bow your head and bend your stubborn knee. Why take the field when you cannot win the war? But Harry -- he went down to Agincourt.

PLEASE. i know the length is intimidating i KNOW it’s a very long fic but please. please read down to agincourt i am begging you. head in my HANDS this series is incredible.

Non Supernatural AUS

Long-Term Relationship by bendingsignpost (2.7k)

Castiel says, budging over to make room for Dean on the couch, “I thought we should have a serious talk about our relationship.”

Reflexively, Dean laughs.

Castiel does not.

“Uh, Cas... you know we’re not dating, right?”

look man it’s bendingsignpost okay. it’s bendingsignpost it’s good and it’s sweet and you should read it

One White Lie by komodobits (11k)

Castiel takes a deep breath and rings the doorbell. He doesn’t need to run through what he’s going to say – he’s already planned and edited and rehearsed it a thousand times. He is going to ask Dean Winchester out to dinner. If it’s not too forward, he’ll say, perfectly charming. You see, I’ve seen you around the neighbourhood and you always seem so earnest and I’d really like to get to know you bette— The door swings open, and Castiel panics.

He intends to excuse himself. He means to apologise and come back some other time. However, in a moment of blind fear, what comes out of his mouth instead are the words, “Could you spare a moment for Jesus Christ?”

do you ever pretend to be a jehovahs witness for months to hang out with the guy you like because you fucked up asking him out? yeah.

separate ways and sleeping dogs by sobsicles (53k)

Dean is three years sober when Cas comes back into town.

~~~

For a moment, they just stare at each other. Dean, once again, has to swallow the urge to offer to swallow something else. It's very hard to resist the gut-wrenching pull of want that hooks in his chest whenever he looks at Cas. And to think, he used to have him, used to be able to act on that want.

God, he's so fucking stupid.

Well, there's no point in kicking himself three years later for shit he can't change. He'll just sit right here and pretend that his fingers aren't twitching with the urge to reach out and touch. He can't do that anymore, and it's his own damn fault.

"Three years ago," Cas prompts.

Dean huffs a weak laugh. "Yeah. Eventful."

this fic hit me SO hard emotionally oh my god. don’t have much to say bc most of my thoughts on this fic are very personal but my god read this please

Everyone’s a Critic by Englandwouldfall (109k)

The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

this one is SO fun. dating the food critic who called your garlic bread closeted and lying about your career because you’re embarrassed and you want to redeem your food in his eyes but then you fall in love with him

Non Destiel Centric

gender? you mean that thing i have that pisses people off? by bigender dean winchester (homosexualitie) (946 words)

sam and dean paint each other's nails and dean abuses the technicalities of her gender. what more could you want?

HELLO HE/SHE DEAN COMMUNITY oh my god the pure rush of euphoria reading this. oh my god. oh my god.

the quiet road to a distant city by rottingbrains (1.2k)

Sam stares out the windshield again. They’re approaching a city, and she can see the lights in the distance. She’s past the danger zone, and she feels like the world around her reflects that in some way she can’t put into words- as if God is telling her that it’s okay. She did the right thing, and soon she will be past the lonely unknown and into the warm, forgiving light of acceptance. Or something. Come to think of it, the lights only look warm from far away, and she knows that the actual city will seem far less welcoming. Still. Best not to imagine the worst when it’s already going well.

required reading for transfem lesbian sam fans. fics that live in your ribcage to make your heart feel good

Four People Ruby Seduced & One She Actually Fell For (Or: Ruby's Epic Love Affair with Humanity in General and Sam in Specific) by tuesday (3.7k)

In which Ruby has a lot of sex, is not any kind of therapist that would be legal, and helps a few people out for her own reasons. (S4/S5 AU)

for everyone out there who enjoys ruby being a girlboss <3

Fractured Link by Trell (orphan_account) (5.5k)

Meg goes on, resolute despite the way Dean flinches, "He likes me. He likes me a lot, and I like him back, and that's probably good enough for both of us. But fuck me for saying so, Dean-o, he loves you, probably more than anything else on his daddy's green Earth, and you need to man up and give back what Clarence over there has been devoting to you for years."

this is meg/dean/cas which is not smth i really seek out but this was extremely good. set in s7 so it’s meg and dean and honey cas and it’s a lot of dean figuring his shit out and trying to forgive cas and i love meg a lot in this

#spn #supernatural #destiel #deancas #mine

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jojoboisimagines · 3 years

Text

Alucard (Castlevania) x Reader :: First Impressions

::Summary: You’re an average villager living in the new village, Belmont. A certain vampire happens to catch your eye, but you’re hung up on your plain-ness compared to his effortless beauty. But thanks to a certain persistent headwoman, you come face to face with the dhampir.

A/N: hi ive been doing this instead of sleeping. This might actually be one of my longest one shots so far; Greta is best wingman/woman

.::.

It had taken all of your courage to tell Greta that you had a thing for the dhampir she had quite clearly noticed you eyeballing for the past 3 weeks.

You had been under the impression that he and the village head woman had something going on, considering how much time they spent around each other and how happy they looked whenever the other was present. Anyone with eyes could see they had pretty perfect chemistry even from the start where the village had moved to the castle.

Your occupation was just a mere merchant in Danesti. You had to move along with everyone else, bringing all your supplies with you (which made you a good target for the monsters, considering how slow you were moving). While you had been at the back most of the trip, the beautiful half-vampire's skills were so apparent, no one couldn't not watch him as he made easy work of the night creatures everyone feared so heavily.

That's practically where the crush started. Not only was he a gorgeous man to behold, but he was also a hero to your people. It was hard not to fall for him.

But you were just a regular villager. And honestly you preferred not to be in the way of the more skilled fighters, so usually you stayed behind with the children hiding and watched over them while the battles were going on.

Truly, you were nothing that could possibly catch Alucard's eye, even if you wanted to. There were times where you had offered him something to eat, but that was a hit or miss move. The man probably just saw you as some nice stranger and thought nothing of it once you went away.

It made your heart ache how the strong and beautiful Greta so effortlessly talked and joked with the dhampir while you sat on the sidelines. At some point it made you feel kinda creepy for staring so much. Not to mention his time would either be occupied with her or those strange friends of his that suddenly showed up at the village.

The social anxiety you harbored in meeting new people didn't help either. Sure, you talked fine with the other villagers, but you've known some of them for years. This man was different. Not only in demeanor, but his whole species was different.

And yet you couldn't simply let it go.

Greta blinked. "Huh?"

You swallowed the lump in your throat. "Well, you and Alucard are dating, aren't you? Or at least, on the verge of that, surely?"

It takes the woman a minute to process that. You silently hoped you didn't offend her.

Another pause, before she gives a light chuckle, patting your shoulder. This couldn't get more awkward for you.

"He's all yours, (y/n). I've no time for relationships, I've already got my hands full here." She reassures you.

"O-oh.." was all you could mutter. How on Earth were you supposed to know that?

"Besides, I've seen you looking at him like a lovesick puppy this whole time. I think this is the perfect time to finally make a move, eh?"

"Oh, no Greta. I'm fine right now, I wouldn't even know what to say-"

"Oi, Alucard!" She hadn't even paid attention to you, looking for the dhampir across the land of the castle porch, spotting him standing near some firewood.

"Wh--nononono." You panicked, why would she DO that? What did she even expect you to say if she knew you were shy about it? Greta was pushy at times, sure, but you hadn't expected she'd do THIS.

Almost robotically, the half vampire turns to the two of you and walks towards you, taking his time. It felt like you had hours to panic, which is probably what you did need realistically.

Your palms even started to sweat, which annoyed you greatly, leading to you awkwardly wiping them on the inside of your apron.

Speaking of your apron...crap, you probably looked awful. You took a nap outside earlier and you were probably a little dusty. It was too late to wipe all of that off, he was making a B-line to where you were.

The expression you held was that of one if Death itself was heading for you, so you tried to muster up the least nervous looking face you could.

He was standing right in front of you and Greta now. It was hard to tell what Alucard was feeling at the moment, but when wasn't it?

"Alright, (y/n), do your thing." The woman winks, walking off to attend to other matters.

You swiftly turned your head. "W-wait! Greta!" You called.

This couldn't get any worse. You'd at least think that she'd back you up all the way on this. You heave a sigh you couldn't keep in, even if Alucard was standing there.

"A handful, isn't she?" He mutters, barely loud enough for you to hear.

You give a half hearted chuckle. "That's funny, I'm sure she's said the same about you."

"Straight to my face, yes." You could see his lips turn up slightly.

"S-so, um.." a strand of hair is brushed behind your ear. "How are you today, Mr. Alucard?"

He scoffs. "Not another nickname. Just Alucard is fine."

"I'm sorry.."

"No, it's fine. It's actually a bit funny. I hear new nicknames just about every week."

You snicker, hoping he'd tell you the full story behind that.

"I'm doing about as well as I can." He answers your question. "What about yourself?"

You rub your elbow with your gaze slightly lower than his gold eyes. "I'm fine, thanks for asking."

Well, you haven't exploded so far, but you could tell this conversation wasn't going to go anywhere if you greet him just like you do everyone. How many other villagers casually greet him? No matter than number, it goes without saying (and your own experiences) that no one falls in love by just saying hello like a mannerful person should.

A blond eyebrow is raised. "You aren't looking at my teeth are you?"

Your (e/c) eyes widen. "W-what? No! I'm just a little nervous to look you in the eye."

Very smooth, (y/n).

"...so I scare you?" His monotone voice wasn't making this any better.

“Of course not! I just…." Truthfully you didn't want to reveal to him that you were nervous, that probably wouldn't help much.

You tried to change the subject. "I admire all the work you've done for us, truly, thank you."

He didn't seem to mind the subject change, but theres no doubt he noticed it.

"It's no issue."

You cringed. Although you were thankful and was glad you could tell him personally, but he's probably heard this a thousand times by now.

"Is there anything specific you called me over for?" He asked.

What could you even say to the dhampir? That you wanted to take him on a date? The chances that any place in this vast forest would make for a good date were slim to none in your opinion. There were also the possibility that straight up confessing to him was a bad idea, seeing that this was your first time even talking to him. Even you would be confused if you were in his shoes.

"I um..uh.."

Alucard gave you a look that practically said 'its okay, take your time'

You nervously fiddled with your nails while trying to come up with what you thought was the best thing to say. The half vampire also wasn't the most social from what youve seen, so really you were taking a shot that'd be a hit or miss.

Whatever happens, at least you'll get all this yearning off your chest.

"I wanna know you a little better, I-if you don't mind. I can make you dinner at my shop, o-or we could take a walk."

He brings a finger to his chin, thinking it over. You desperately wanted to see what was going on in the dhampir's mind.

"Sounds nice. I'll see if my schedule's free." He said with a smile.

"O-oh, well you don't have to if you're busy.."

"That was a joke." He said flatly.

You felt your face heating up at the fail of not being able to catch it. It earned a breathy laugh from him at least.

"Oi, Alucard! Get over here!" Shouted his brunette friend from across the field.

"Oh for god's sake..” He muttered under his breath. Alucard turned around, lifting up his hand to wave before he departs.

“I’ll see you soon.” There’s a hint of a smile. You wave back to him with a smile of your own.

You’d wait till he got a good amount away from where you were before doing a fist pump like a lovestruck teenager would.

The experience almost gave you a heart attack if you were honest, but having that perfect man as a boyfriend soon would make it all worth it.

#alucard castlevania #castlevania x reader #Castlevania #Alucard #alucard x reader #adrian tepes x reader #adrian tepes

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | Chapter Eighteen

Amoreena Chapter Eighteen

main 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.

Chapter Warnings: hospital visits, fainting, IV's and ultrasounds!

word count: 5k

from the beginning <3

Y/N heads off to work at 8 on Wednesday, sick and miserable but it's her job. Leaving Spencer with the girls. “So, what are our plans for today?”

“We need to pick up some paint samples so we can pick for my room,” Jo replies, shovelling waffles into her mouth right after with syrup dripping down her chin.

Spencer passes her a napkin with a smile, “do you guys want to go visit my friend Penelope? She’s really good with aesthetics, as she calls them, she’ll be able to help the best.”

“She’s the one you told me about?”

Spencer nods, “yeah, I’m just going to call and see if she’s free today. Put your dishes in the dishwasher after, your mom doesn’t need to come home from work to do the sticky dishes okay?”

“Yes sir,” they both groan, jokingly, smiling at each other as they do so.

He runs up to his bedroom then, sitting on his side of the bed and taking his phone out of his pocket. He dials Luke’s number instead, knowing she’d kill him if she’s still asleep while he’s calling her.

“Hey man!” Luke answers, cheerful and very awake. “How’s the new kid?”

“Jo’s great, she’s settling in really well,” He smiles, news travelled fast in the BAU, “I actually want to introduce her to Penelope, is she awake and willing to take visitors this early?”

“Um,” he can hear Luke’s panic through the phone, “you know, here she’s beside me, she can tell you.”

“Hello, Spencer,” Penelope’s voice carries down the line and invoking a smile on Spencer’s face. “What’s up?”

“I wanted to introduce you to Josephine today, are you busy?”

“We have a doctor's appointment to go to in 10 minutes, but we’ll be home around 10:30?”

His brain stalls, malfunctioning a small amount at why Luke would be going to the doctors with Penelope. “You can’t be pregnant too, me you and Derek can’t all have kids the same age.”

“Savannah’s pregnant too?!” Penelope screams down the line, “holy shit.”

“Penelope!” Spencer shouts, “are you kidding me?”

“No, we were going to tell you soon, when you made that wine comment a few weeks ago I knew she was pregnant because I am too,” Penelope’s voice is so soft he knows she’s smiling on the other side.

She always wanted kids, that’s why she spoiled Henry and Hank so much, they were like her honorary babies until she was in the right place to have kids of her own. She has told Spencer time and time again how much she wants a family, how badly she wanted one but couldn’t find the perfect partner… then she met Luke.

“Put Luke back on,” Spencer sounds sterner than he means to, Penelope puts him on speaker instead.

“Are we going to have the father-to-son chat?” Luke teases him through the phone.

“I just wanted to thank you, this is going to be a really cool experience,” Spencer feels incredibly emotional at the thought of all 3 of their kid's meeting and being best friends.

“You just bumped Spencer to the top of my suggestions list,” Luke jokes in response, not able to handle the sappiness this early in the morning. “Thanks, man, So Derek’s going to be a dad again too?”

“I wasn’t supposed to tell you,” Spencer feels a bit like an idiot, “I don’t know how far along they are so just keep it a secret for now.”

“She’ll probably tell me when I tell her,” Penelope rationalized it, “it’s fine, Spence, all of us are having babies it’s a good secret to spill.”

“When are you due?”

“January 29th,” Penelope smiles, “you?”

“Y/N doesn’t know for sure, but she’s thinking it’s February 20th, if she got her math right,” Spencer confirms with a smile, “we have a doctor's appointment to see the little one in 2 weeks.”

“We find out if it’s a boy or girl today,” Luke added, and he can hear Penelope smack him.

“We’re not finding out! I want it to be a surprise!”

“I’m going to find out, I’m going to stare that sonogram down till I see a pee-pee or not,” Luke bickered back. Making her furious on purpose, like always.

“Good luck with that, it’s a blob and you’re a dork,” she fought right back, probably even more feisty now that she was pregnant.

That made Spencer just shake his head, he couldn’t even picture it. It was insane when Haley got pregnant and Hotch became a dad, he was so shocked when JJ got pregnant and her small body was able to do it. He’ll never forget seeing Derek become a father, it was way too eventful not to. But this, he never thought he’d see it.

She probably felt the same with him.

“We’ve got to go in now Spence, but we can pick up some brunch and meet you at ours around 11?” Penelope cut into his awkward silence, “you can see the ultrasound and be the first to know.”

“Sounds good, I’m really happy for you, Penny,” Spencer added with a smile. “Bye.”

“Bye!”

After he hangs up he shoots a text over to Y/N, “taking the girls to Penelope’s house, is there an extra booster seat for Amoreena anywhere?” And slides his phone back into his pocket.

Down the stairs, Jo and Amoreena are doing the dishes instead of just placing them in the dishwasher. Amoreena is on a stool, washing the plates as Jo dries and is able to reach the cabinets better to put them away. They don’t even know he’s there watching as they pass plates back and forth.

Then Amoreena jumps off the stool as the water drains, finally turning around to see her dad, “all clean! Mom shouldn’t have to do anything while she’s making a baby.”

Spencer couldn’t stop smiling, his girls were so perfectly kind and caring. It was like he won the genetic lottery being blessed with them.

“She’d really appreciate us keeping the house clean for the next few months,” Spencer agreed. “Are you guys excited or nervous about the baby?”

They both shrugged and moved in closer to the counter, resting against it as they thought it over. He pressed his lips together awkwardly as he waited, “I’m really nervous.” He announced, watching their faces turn to worry.

“Why?” Jo asked, “You’re really good at being a dad.”

“I haven’t done it from the beginning yet,” he’s open and honest with them, letting them know he doesn’t always have every answer but he’s brave enough to try.

“If anything,” Amoreena’s smart little mind gets to work, “because you’ve been so amazing without really knowing us, I can imagine Elly will love you the most because she’ll know you the longest.”

“Elly?” Spencer smiles, remembering how serious they all are about the next kid is a girl too.

Amoreena nodded, “she has the choice of 3 nicknames, Elly, Leo or Nora…” She’s clearly thought it all through.

“You know, I was thinking we should get something for Y/N and the baby, do you guys want to go to the store before we go see aunty Penny?”

They both nod enthusiastically, “can we go get changed first?” Amoreena asks, “I want to wear something nice.”

It makes him laugh, “of course, hey, before you go do you know where any more booster seats are for you?”

She bites her lip to think, “hmm, I think there’s one in poppy’s truck?”

“Okay, you go get ready, I’ll go talk to poppy,” Spencer replies, and before he can even turn around both of them are running up the creaky, loud, wooden steps and into their rooms.

He’s already in jeans and a plaid shirt from feeding the chickens that morning, adding just his running shoes and Grandpa’s hat, it was basically his now. He loved it, it felt right, it made Y/N and Amoreena smile when he wore it, and it completed the look of stay-at-home Farm Dad.

He walked right into Y/N’s parent's house, pulling back the screen door before walking, “knock, knock,” he says, smiling as he sees Linda rounding the corner from the kitchen.

“Spencer!” She cheers, wiping her hands off on her apron before pulling him into a hug. “How are your girls?”

“Good,” he smiles again, holding her close quickly before letting her go again. “I’m taking them to a friend's house, does Amoreena have a booster seat here?” He asks for the 3rd time that morning, not wanting to drive her anywhere unless she’s perfectly secured.

“Bob’s got one in the truck, leave your keys here in case he has to go anywhere and just take the truck, it’s easier than taking the seat out and putting it back in,” Linda problem-solved like it was her job.

“Okay,” he places his keys in her hand.

“Bob’s are on the wall by the door, have fun today!” Linda waved him off, “oh, and tell Y/N congratulations.”

“Oh, thanks,” he smiled, “the wedding was really fun.”

He’s just taking the keys off the wall and opening the door again when he hears her small laughter, “I meant on the baby.”

He turns quickly, “how did you know?”

Linda shakes her head, “there are 3 cases of ginger ale in the fridge and 8 empty boxes of saltine crackers in the recycling.”

He turns pink, embarrassed for some reason as if Linda didn’t know he was sleeping with her daughter. He nods with a press-lipped smile. “She didn’t want to tell anyone till the ultrasound.”

“I understand,” Linda smiled. “I’m ready to talk to her when she is, let her know that.”

“I will,” he smiled one last time, “see you later!”

And they were off.

—

He’s in a big red farm truck, wearing a farm hat and plaid while listening to Taylor Swift with his daughters.

He can’t help but shake his head at the insanity, agreeing with Taylor’s current lyric that’s being burned into his head, “fever dream high in the quiet of the night you know that I caught it!”

Amoreena and Jo are in the back, singing together as they share what songs are their favourites. It’s surreal, every single moment is, if it wasn’t for how badly it made his heartache to see them so happy he’d think it was all a dream.

The girls are very adamant about going to TJMaxx for a present for Y/N, saying it’s the best place to find nice things for a good price. Spencer would spend a million dollars on her if he could, but this was a group decision, and there were 2 of them now, so he never won anymore.

They get a decent parking space, getting out together they look insane. Spencer is a walking talking Woody from Toy Story at this point, Jo’s in all black and combat boots and Amoreena is a princess… it was an interesting group, to say the least.

They get a cart, pushing it up and down the aisles as they find a million and 1 cute things for Y/N. Everything from paintings to towels, maternity clothes and baby toys, makeup brushes and scarves… they were having the hardest time finding the best thing to get for them.

Spencer turned down the final aisle in the back corner, seeing a bunch of headboards and chairs, and a small little bassinet. It’s whicker and woven beautifully, light wood and a fluffy white inside. It’s soft, well made, and incredibly cute.

“Mom gave my crib to Aunt Ashely, she might like this!” Amoreena cheered, leaning over it to show that she was the perfect height to see inside of it too.

“I’m going to get it,” Spencer announces, “it’ll look nice in our room, and it’s good for the first few months while she’s really dependent on your mom.”

They were all on team girl now, Spencer and his little women just made the most sense. He couldn’t see anyone other than all his girls in his mind when he thought of the future, and he’s had enough time with boys anyway. Hank and Henry would always hold a special place in his heart.

The girls each wanted t pick something out for the baby, heading right for the girl section of the baby aisle. “Now, you have to remember that they’ll be very tiny in the winter, and around 6 months in the summer.”

Everything was actually decently priced like the girls said it would be, so Spencer went a bit overboard. It was his first baby too, he was allowed to spoil it. He stocked up on bib rags, swaddle blankets, pacifiers and cute little hats. Jo and Amoreena on the other handpicked out the cutest little winter coat. It would be perfect for the Virginia winter, a big brown bear coat that zipped up like a sleeping bag. She’s going to be so cozy.

Bringing everything to the cashier was fun, she could see they were all related and smiled, “another brother or sister on the way?”

Jo and Amoreena smiled, “in February,” Jo was the one to answer with a wide smile.

“Congrats!” She smiles as she rings everything through, bagging it all while Spencer pays and the girls take it all to the truck.

“Wait, so will I ever meet my other brother and sister?” Amoreena asks as they’re filling the bed of the truck with what they bought, completely out of the blue.

“Not for a while, Jo kinda broke the rules to find me and figured out who they are, but they can’t know till they’re 18,” Spencer explained.

She turns to Jo with a look of worry, “was my name on there?”

Jo nods enthusiastically, “oh yeah! You’re baby number 3! It goes me, Alice, you and then Dylan is the youngest.”

Amoreena starts to cry, it's soft at first as she goes silent and then she’s heaving as she thinks about it more. She throws herself into Spencer’s arms and he’s so confused. Shushing her as he rubs her back gently, “what’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I knew it,” is all she can say. Holding him closer than before. “You were too great to just be my dad.”

Jo places her hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “she’s right.”

“You guys are the amazing ones,” he says softly. “Come on, let’s get in the truck and go see Aunt Penny, she has a surprise.”

Amoreena sighed as she pulled back, “I don’t think I can handle anything more.”

It makes him laugh, “it’s a simple one, I promise.”

—

Jo loves Penelope. They instantly click, discussing exactly how she hacked the Sperm bank in all the technical terms which ended up sounding like gibberish to Spencer. She was incredibly smart and very interested in the computer programming field. Penelope offered to take her under her wing.

Amoreena, however, fell head over heels in love with Luke. He was nice to her at the barbecue because he’s Luke and he doesn’t know how to be anything but nice, and she thought he looked like Prince Naveen from the princess and the frog… which just so happened to be her favourite and suddenly Spencer understood why she was in a green princess dress today.

It was adorable, she looked up at him like he was an actual prince with big brown doe eyes as she listened to him talk about all the knightly battles he’s been on recently. She was enamoured, having her first little kid crush on her Aunt’s boyfriend.

Spencer was holding Penelope’s sonogram in his hands, alone on the couch as his kids were deep in conversation with his friends. It was really cool, that’s all he could think. Himself, Derek and Penelope were going to have 3 kids all around the same age.

3 little people who got to grow up with a bond and friendship just as strong as theirs. Each of them having 2 best friends, 2 protectors, it was going to be amazing. He can see it now, a confident little Garcia, a feisty little Morgan and a shy yet chatty little Reid baby all together on the playground. What a nightmare for their poor teacher.

Y/N still hasn’t texted him back from this morning, yet she’s calling him now at 1 pm as they’re getting ready to leave, “hello, princess.”

“Can you leave the girls with Penelope and meet me in the ER?”

“Of what hospital? Are you okay?” He asks, and all eyes are on his horrified face.

Luke stands then, “I’ll take you, let’s go.”

“Bethesda, it’s not bad I just came in to check something and I want you here,” her voice is soft and she knows he’s going to panic. “I need you to breathe and stay calm or the kids will freak out.”

He takes a deep breath, “sorry I forgot we had an appointment today.” He lies pretty well.

“I’ll see you soon okay, text me while Luke drives me?” He’s quiet as he and Luke slip out the door.

“I’ll just stay on the line, I don’t mind, cutie,” he could see her smile in his mind as he listened to her. Able to actually calm down and think straight as he climbed into the passenger seat and handed Luke the keys.

“What happened?”

“I didn’t feel good, I was extra dizzy and sick a few times at work, so Allison made me come in. Savannah has me hooked up to an IV now, I’ve been so sick I’m dehydrated, and they wanted to do an ultrasound but I can’t see her without you here.”

His heartbeat settles a bit, the same thing happened to JJ. It was fairly normal, the first-trimester sickness was so horrific she wasn’t really eating, she had maybe 1 full meal a day even though he tried to get her to eat more. And she was drinking a lot of water, but she was also throwing up hourly. It wasn’t healthy.

“Okay,” he’s able to smile softly. “Thank you for wanting to wait for me.”

She hears his smile too, knowing he’s calm and okay. “She’s your first baby, baby, I want you to have all the firsts with her. Or him. I’m so settled on it being another girl I feel so bad sometimes…”

He can hear the paper of her hospital gown rustling as she rubs her small stomach. “I love you forever even if you are a boy, or you come out a quote-unquote boy and want to be a girl or the other way or neither or even both!” She’s clearly not talking to him anymore as she assures the baby she’s not going to be upset about its gender.

Luke drives like a maniac, Spencer knows from experience but he’s extra insane today. He has dad panic now too, he knows what Spencer’s thinking and so he guns it and he’s in the ER parking lot within 10 minutes. “Okay, I’m here where are you?”

“Savannah’s going to collect you at the door and bring you to me,” her voice is soft and calm still, “I’ll see you in a few minutes, love you.”

“Love you too,” he replies before hanging up. “Thank you, Luke.”

Luke places his hand on Spencer’s shoulder, “you know by now I’d kill for you, right?”

Spencer’s heart has been at a capacity for love for a while now and yet it keeps getting piled on, “thank you. If you want to go back to Penny’s that’s okay. I’ll drive Y/N’s car back to your place.”

“Sure,” Luke smiles again. “Go see that baby, I want to see pictures after!”

With that, Spencer’s getting out of the truck and running into the hospital, holding his hat so it doesn’t fly off. Savannah laughs when she sees him, he’s so anxious and sweet and she’s always admired him for making Derek feel loved before her.

She places a hand on his back as she leads him down the hall, “she’s fine I promise, I wouldn’t be this chill if she wasn’t.”

“Thank you,” Spencer stops, “I really love her Savannah. Like if anything happens to her or my kids I will kill myself kind of love her and it’s terrifying.” His words are a whisper as he shakes, tears welling in his eyes. “I’m trying to be cool and collected for her but I need a minute.”

Savannah looks down the corridor past him, smiling softly as Derek walks out of Y/N’s room. “Derek was here for lunch when she called me.”

He wraps Spencer up in the hug he needs and Spencer just holds him. “You’re the best,” he says softly as he rests his lips against Derek's shoulder like he always does. And Derek messes up his hair, without fail.

Derek places his hands on his cheeks, “she’s really cool, but tomorrow is called off until they’re both past the first trimester and everything is chill, okay?”

“I forgot all about that,” Spencer’s eyes widen.

Derek laughs, “go see your girl, she invited us over for dinner after.”

“Penelope and Luke have to come too, they have big news to share today too,” Spencer spills the beans, “she’s going to be so mad at me for telling you but I have been wanting to scream about it for a few hours now.”

Derek’s face lights up, “I’ll be back!”

Savannah laughs as he runs down the hall, surely going to congratulate his best friend and tell her all about how cool it’ll be to all have kids together. With all the enthusiasm that Spencer kept inside, Derek was about to scream on his behalf.

Y/N’s a vision in the blue paper gown, laying on the table with her hand over her belly as Spencer walks in, “Hey, cutie.”

He peppers kisses to her whole face while she laughs, reaching up with her free hand, the other is all taped up with wires for her fluids. She looks much better already, her skin is glowing and the life is back in her eyes, she’s smiling again and he notices the 2 empty jello cups beside an unopened one.

“Derek made me save you one,” She adds as he notices it, “in case you passed out or something.”

Within minutes, he’s done his jello and there’s a new woman he’s never seen before coming in for Y/N’s ultrasound. She introduces herself as Aria and Y/N can’t help but mention she kind of looks like Arizona on Grey’s Anatomy.

She’s not far along enough for the regular ultrasound wand to pick anything up, wiping her belly clean of the jelly before prepping the other one and Y/N grips Spencer’s hand tighter. She looks like she hates it, and Spencer probably would too if some strange lady shoved a metal stick up his parts.

She’s clicking around on her own, Spencer knows she’s just a tech and she can’t really tell them anything until she does the first sweep for all the answers. She turns the screen after a few minutes, “here’s your little baby, we have a healthy heartbeat and a placenta up here in the top left.”

Seeing his baby is the most magical moment of his life. She was so tiny, the size of a sweet pea inside the love of his life. She looked like a little alien, tiny in her little sac as she floated around in there. Happy, and healthy and growing day by day.”

“Just the one?” Y/N confirms.

Aria laughs, “yes, nothing else is going on in here, but they are measuring more at 7 weeks, almost 8, instead of 6 weeks and 5 days, even with your period math, they might just be a big baby.”

“Our first kid was a chunky baby,” Y/N smiles, looking at the screen and oblivious to how Spencer smiles at the words our first kid…

“So this little one is good, in the fetal position and the tail is at the right length for development, they should look like a person the next time you see them. Everything looks like it’s on track and your HCG is doubling perfectly,” Aria was very cheerful. “You’re just sick because they’re super healthy.”

“I’m fine with that,” Y/N smiles again, “can I have a bunch of copies? Everyone is going to want one.”

“Sure,” Aria hits a few buttons, printing 11 photos off and handing them over to her in a long strand. “Have you looked into any OB’s for this one?”

“Not yet, I was going to bring it up tonight,” Y/N’s the only one talking, Spencer has no idea if he’s allowed an opinion on her body and he’s never going to give one unless she asks.

“Well, I’ll leave you to it! Here are some facilities we like if you need recommendations,” she smiles as she hands them a booklet. “Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” Y/N swoons, sitting up to look at her little baby photos and read the booklet.

Once the woman is gone, she smiles at Spencer, “I want to do a water birth, how are you feeling about that?”

“Like I’ll be there no matter what you pick?” He answers, “I just want you to be safe and in good hands, preferably in a birthing centre where they’re all trained to care for you. I’ve been a little stressed at the idea of us living so far away from the hospital, so it’s better to not do a home birth in case something goes wrong last minute.”

It’s a Reid rant of epic proportions, “okay, water birth in a birthing centre it is. Plus, it’ll be winter so I wouldn’t want to drive in that while giving birth.”

“How long do you have to stay here?”

“Once my IV fluid bag is empty, I can go.” She smiles wide, holding his hand gently as she looks at him. “They’re going to send a nurse to the library on Tuesdays and Thursdays to ensure I get more fluids in me, and I’m also going to take some nausea meds now.”

“Thank you for calling me,” Spencer whispers, “I’m so happy you feel safe with Derek, and that he could have been here for you, but can you call me first next time?”

She nods, “I was scared, I needed to know if she was okay before I told you because I love you a lot and seeing you upset made me more scared.”

“I don’t want you to feel like that,” Spencer shook his head softly, leaning in and pressing their foreheads together. “I may be a worry wort and an anxious crier, but I will hold your hand and I will be here, you mean more to me than anything else.”

She cupped his face with her free hand, “the girls better be on the same level as me.” She brings a smile to his face, “if anything happens to me you have to be strong for them, I know nothing bad will. But I need you to know I do have faith in you to keep going after me, for them. They need a parent, be it me or you, at 100% all the time.”

“I promise,” he smiles so she knows he’s true.

—

Penelope Spencer and Derek laid all 3 of their ultrasounds on Y/N’s kitchen table, a sticky note on each one. Baby Garvez, Baby Morgan and Baby Reid…

The Big Three 2.0 coming this winter.

Penelope took a photo of it, opening the BAU text thread that has all members past and present included. Sending the photo to everyone while they patiently waited for a response.

Jordan Todd: way to go!!! Can’t wait to see all that cuteness!

Anderson: !!! Bring them by the office sometime, please!

Hotch: Jack said he’s excited to meet his new cousins. Congrats guys.

Elle: is Penelope having 2 babies or did Spencer get a wife I don’t know about?

Emily: Congrats!! (And yes Spencer has a wife and 3 kids now apparently…)

Elle: pics or it didn’t happen

Spencer:

Elle: no fuckin way... congrats Reid!

Alex Blake: so proud of you Spencer, I always knew you could do it. Love is full of endless possibilities. Your kids will be so loved, I miss you all.

Matt Cruz: congrats!

Kate Callahan: we need to get you a triple stroller

Penelope: Please!! Zoo trips are going to be a riot with that!

Tara: so happy for you all!

Matt: Welcome to the club Spencer and Luke!

Kristy: and Y/N! We need to throw a big baby shower on the farm before the cold weather!

Will: JJ…

JJ: no.

Will: Spencer, tell nini I’m really happy she’s finally going to be a big sis, she’s always been so good with the kids. You made some great kids!

Spencer: thanks everyone ♥︎

tag list: @shemarmooresfedora @spencers-dria @spookyspence @reidsfish @manuosorioh @mochionly @samuel-de-champagne-problems @jswessie187

@k-k0129 @calm-and-doctor

#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

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mythicmalasada · 3 years

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sayu + kazuxiaobenlumi dynamics (because she’s adorable and i love her) under the cut ↓

kazuha

the second one she manages to warm up to, kazuha has a certain, natural way with kids that leaves the others’ heads spinning

he’s gentle with her where lumine is motherly and bennett is fun and xiao is brotherly; he sings her lullabies and finds her pretty flowers to put in her hair, he calls her beautiful and helps her sew her tail back together when it gets tattered in a fight, he combs her hair and he holds her hand when they walk through the busy inazuma square at noon, lifting her up onto his shoulders when it gets too crowded with the threat of sweeping her away

its in these moments that sayu feels like she’s on top of the world, as if that growth spurt she so desperately craves has finally come true

he relates to her the night she cries telling him about her past, her master who had abandoned her and how lonely she felt being out there all alone. he gets it when she paws wildly at her vision and sobs about how she hates it and loves it still because it makes her strong, but it makes her a bad person in the eyes of the shogunate. sayu doesn’t want to be a target, a villain; she wants to be loved. if nothing else, kazuha understands that feeling completely.

kazuha is patient, yet smart, keen and diligent; out of all of them, he’s the best when it comes to finding sayu in her little games of hide and seek

he’s also the best at reading her. lumine is a workaholic, yet kazuha knows when it’s best to stop and smell the flowers, to bask in the sun; if lumine recommends an expedition, he’s the one to catch the droop of sayu’s shoulders and suggest a nap on a warm rock

likewise is kazuha the chef of the group, the most meticulous one when it comes to cooking food and cooking it well; more often than not, you’ll catch him giving sayu a special plate of onigiri with a small smiley face on it decorated in seaweed, or eggs served in the shape of tanuki

xiao

through all of his years, xiao has never liked children. not in an outwardly malicious way, he’s just conditioned himself to be so thorough with violence and darkness and death that he does not enjoy the thought of a child being in his presence

he initially thinks this when he meets sayu, though after learning about her past (as is with the anemo users), he lightens up a bit

never in all his time alive has anyone ever managed to sneak up on him, xiao, the yaksha guardian adeptus. the first who happens to manage is the little mujina ninja, sayu

they’re having a party at lumine’s teapot with all their friends, and the clatter from the kitchen is too much. xiao goes to sit on a rocky hill outside and eat his slice of cake in silence

he’s staring at the sunset when a small “hi” sends him flying about 20 feet into the air, fumbling with his spear and flustered

he turns, pointing his jade spear at her and breathing heavy, and demands “how did you do that?!” to which sayu replies, “that’s the last slice of cake. can i have it”

sayu sits next to him on the hill and he numbly hands her over the plate, patting her head hesitantly as he tries to shake himself out of his shock

“listen, um. sayu. what happened when you came up here... no it didn’t. i did that on purpose, okay? to make you feel better. you didn’t startle me.” “...right, mr. xiao”

xiao is begrudging to admit she’s adorable and he wants her around, because in all honesty, he thinks it’d be safer if she stayed far away. he worries about her when he figures they’re overworking her (after all, it is hard to match pace with 4 seasoned adventurers), but he’s also learned not to underestimate her

there’s been times when he thought sayu was behind him, holding his hand out to the side and walking backwards saying “ive got you” before looking up and realizing she’s already out there kicking ass

once she catches him training and xiao pretends as if he doesn’t notice her watching, going through his attack movements slowly so sayu can mimic him

when they’re walking back from late night commissions or quests and sayu’s eyes get heavy, xiao’s the one that picks her up and leans his head against hers as she drifts off, holding her tight to his chest even when lumine looks at him all smug

bennett

he tries so, so hard to get sayu to like him. he tells her jokes, he gets her presents, he offers to hang out with her whenever she’s alone, but that bennett luck kicks in and for some reason sayu seems... scared of him for the longest time

(she probably saw him trip over himself and set their camp on fire and figured that was scary, and that she should avoid him. for good reason)

i mentioned in this post that bennett and lumine often sleep in the same sleeping bag/bed at the inn in order to soothe lumine’s touch-hunger, and when sayu comes along, the girl doesn’t think anything of it when she follows lumine into bennett’s bed at night, of which leads to bennett with an armful of both lumine and sayu

he and lumine lay on their sides, bennett’s forehead nudging against lumine’s, sayu laying between them with her head against their chests. and when sayu’s lil hands reach up unconsciously in the night to grasp onto bennett’s, he has to suppress a squeal so as to not wake the girls up

sayu once mentions how people make her perform as some sort of act at festivals as a cutesy form of entertainment and how degrading it feels to herself and her art, and bennett bursts into tears both because it’s sad and because he’s been feeling the exact same way since he was a kid. singled out and used for the betterment of others, at a cost to yourself

bennett reads to sayu, almost every night, sometimes even on the road. xiao, lumine, and kazuha say nothing as bennett and sayu trail behind reading aloud because admittedly they too are interested in the plot

they probably get around to reading xingqiu’s book one day, and the day in which they stay over at the commerce guild, xingqiu comes in to say goodnight and overhears bennett reading to sayu what sounds an awful lot like his own writing

they attend a festival once that has a small band of musicians. bennett pulls sayu into a dance, smiling and festive as the band rattles off folk music and bennett twirls her around and around and she laughs

lumine

sayu sees lumine as the mother figure she never had, the most innately comforting of the four that she can fall back on at all times. from the moment they meet there’s barely a second of foreign distrust before sayu leans in to lumine and immediately trusts her

lumine had reservations about taking sayu into her team when they first met, but upon realizing that everyone she’d ever gotten to trust had abandoned her, she decides that her and her team are the best way to help mend that broken heart. kazuxiaobenlumi together is lovely

the others are very, very jealous of just how easily lumine got on sayu’s good side

lumine loves doing sayu’s hair!! braiding it, threading the flowers that kazuha gives her into it, putting it up in lil buns

sometimes lumi will spend 10 mins doing her hair just for sayu to come back 30 mins later with it purposefully mussed up just so she can have lumine’s fingers carding through her hair again, and lumine can’t find it in her to be angry

sayu is often found trailing lumine around

they stop at the kamisato estate to speak to ayaka about something, and one of the guards laughs and gestures behind lumine, saying “looks like you’ve got a shadow” and it’s just sayu following her

sayu uses her ninja art to sneak into all the places she shouldn’t in order to follow lumine; ie, the kamisato estate, beidou’s ship, the golden house when she goes for a childe rematch, even the knights of favonius headquarters when lumi goes to speak to jean

lumine and sayu hugs are so so good and wholesome

lumine always manages to keep an eye on sayu during battle, making sure she’s alright. she let sayu into the team, but she’d be crushed if she ever got hurt

sayu can’t sleep at night unless she knows lumine is nearby

sayu is hard to find when she hides, but she comes out easily when she knows lumine is looking for her

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gloomybabygirl · 4 years

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{mrs.} Poe Dameron x fem!reader

A/N: this is plagiarized from inspired by the last scene in Pride and Prejudice (2005, the only acceptable version). I’ve loved this story for as long as I can remember and have had this scene memorized for the longest time. I couldn’t get a Poe version out of my head today :) if you haven’t seen the movie what in the fuck are you doing go watch it?? but even if you have, I’ll link the scene below so you can refresh your memory <3 p.s. it has just occurred to me that this is only the ending in the U.S. version so if you are from somewhere else please you need to see this

warnings: mentions of sex?, plagiarism, pure fluff, danger of falling in love with Poe, bad writing :) this is fem reader bc of the mrs. i’m so sorry!!

word count:

song: Mrs. Darcy- Original Film Score!! highly recommend listening while you read

link to scene

You hoped the novelty of calling Poe Dameron your husband would never wear off. The way saying the word husband when referring to him made your stomach flutter and heat creep up to your cheeks. It filled you up to the brim with happiness and love that you got to call him your own.

The first few days of married life were being spent on Yavin IV so Poe could show you where he intended to raise a family with you once the war was over. You loved nothing more than hearing this man talk about the future. It was something he didn’t dare to do for a long, long time. But something about your love and hope showed him the stunning glimmer of a light at the end of the tunnel. Now, the thing that kept him going through each mission was the thought of one day being able to tell his kids about them.

While your honeymoon had been mostly spent... honeymooning, you were falling more in love seeing Poe like this. Childlike almost. Taking you to all the places he remembered from his youth.

He dragged you to a huge tree, with a hole through the base of the trunk, big enough to fly a tie fighter though. It was easily the tallest tree you had seen on Yavin and it must have been around for at least a thousand years.

“Under here,” he said stepping into the hollowed trunk of the ancient tree “is where I had my first kiss.”

“Hm, should I be jealous?” You asked, smirking at the man boy.

“Nah, because now you’ll be my favorite kiss inside this tree.” He gently pulled your wrist, and wrapped his arm around your waist. His free hand cupped the side of your face and brought you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

He pulled away for a moment and just looked at you in adoration. You saw a change in his eyes and caught a devilish gleam before he said:

“Come on, I’ll show you were I lost my virginity!” and ran from the kissing tree.

“Poe! I don’t want to see that!” You yelled, laughing and running after him.

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He did not, in fact, show you where he lost his virginity.

He instead lead you up a small mountain that was closer to his childhood home. About midway up the mountain was a circle of light colored boulders, in a oblong circle. Poe had a soft smile on his lips, but when you met his eyes, there was a shadow of sadness.

“Over by all these rocks here, this is where I would play with all my toy A-Wings. I wanted to be just like my mom.”

You grabbed his hand and squeezed, silently letting him know you were there for him. He squeezed back and gave you a swift kiss on the cheek.

“This is where our kids will play with toy X-Wings because they want to be just like their dad.” He laughed at your eyeroll following the comment. “The I’ll have a whole squadron of just Damerons.”

“I’m sure Leia will be thrilled to pieces to have that many trigger- happy flypeople under her command.”

He chuckled again, kissing your temple this time.

Once again, taking off at light speed, he started running further up the mountain.

“Come on, I have one more place I want to show you today!”

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“Poe, baby it’s getting dark.” You had been following him up this mountain for several minutes (not that you minded the view).

“I know,” he threw you a grin over his shoulder. “Don’t worry Princess, we’re at the top,” he extended his hand back to help you up the rest of the way, kissing the back of your hand tenderly when you got to him.

He walked you over to a small clearing and laid down on the thick grass, pulling you down with him.

You lay your head on his chest so you could hear the quiet, steady beating of his golden heart. Your hand clasped tightly in his was laying next to your face on his chest. Perfect for giving him sweet kisses across his scarred knuckles.

You angled your chin to look up at him. “So... is this where you lost your virginity?” You asked, only half joking.

He laughed lightly, “Nah, I can show you that tomorrow. This is where I would go when I was scared, or sad, or just... whatever. I would look up at the stars and it would remind me of how small and miniscule my problems were. That there were so many other people out there who needed help. My help. reminding myself of that would ground me and get me it of whatever mood I was in. I wanted to bring you here because this was my special secret place where even my dad couldn’t find me.”

You stayed silent, letting him have this moment for himself. The thick feeling of nostalgia for a childhood that wasn’t even yours filled the space between the two of you. Suddenly, he sat up and sat cross legged facing you, wanting to look at you. He took your hands in his roughed up calloused ones and studied your face for a moment.

“How are you tonight, honey?” He asked, making you wince slightly.

“Very well. Only, I don’t like it when you call me ‘honey’,” you said gently.

He looked a little hurt, causing you to reach out to cup his cheek, his stubble tickling your palm. “Why not?”

You giggled a little at his hurt expression. “Because it’s what my dad always called my mom when he was mad about something.”

Relief flooded his sweet, brown eyes. “Then what pet names am I allowed to call you?”

“Well let me think... ‘Baby’, for everyday,” He beamed at you. “’Princess’ for holidays. And ‘kitten’ but only on very special occasions,” You said winking at him referring to a nickname he had grown fond of using in the bedroom.

“Okay,” he was still grinning from ear to ear, “Then what should I call you when I’m mad? Mrs. Dameron?”

“No!” You would never want him to use your favorite title in a negative way. You kissed the small gold band around his ring ringer. “No. You can only call me Mrs. Dameron when you are completely and perfectly and incandescently happy.” You said smiling up to him.

“Well then how are you tonight, Mrs. Dameron?” He asked, kissing your forehead with featherlike softness.

He looked at you, smiling lightly, before whispering again, “Mrs. Dameron.” He then leaned to press a kiss to your cheek, causing the blood to rush there.

“Mrs. Dameron,” He moved to warm the frosty tip of your nose with his tender kiss.

He couldn’t get enough of how that pet name rolled off his tongue and fit you perfectly. “Mrs. Dameron,” He hesitated for a brief moment to take in your scent and then kissed your other cheek, feeling you smile under his lips.

“Mrs. Dameron,” He whispered one last time before finally capturing your lips in his own.

You knew this feeling would last forever.

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taglist (currently open, message me!): @softly-sad @clumsy-writing-rdb

#poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron one shot #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #pride and prejudice #is this bad?#yes #did I still write it?#absolutely yes

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whosaskingwrites · 4 years

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I Remember (Bokuto x Reader)

A/N: Bokuto is my absolute favorite in Haikyuu so this physically pained me to write. But I personally love this one its my favorite and its told entirely from Akaashi's point of view. Also this one ended up being the longest one so there's that.

WARNINGS: ANGST. Hospital is mentioned so mentions of needles. There's fluffy moments scattered in but do not be fooled it is angst.

Date: Sunday October 25th, 2020

Details: 7 pages 2,518 words

Theme: Hanahaki Disease- The victim begins to have flowers grow in their lungs leading to them coughing up flowers petals this continues getting worse until it causes their death. There's a surgery option to get rid of the flowers but it comes at the price of never feeling love again.

Angst Masterlist

I was twenty three years old when the first petal appeared. It was a pure white rose petal as it sat in my palm. That was the same day I told my best friend Akaashi.

I answered the phone holding it to my ear and before I could say anything Y/n’s voice came through. “Keiji I’m panicking I don’t know what to do and I’m scared-,” I interrupted her talking trying to understand what was happening. “Y/n slow down what’s wrong?” She took a deep shuttering breath as she responded “…I’ve got Hanahaki Disease Keiji,”

I was twenty four years old when I had to be rushed to the hospital during a MSBY game. I was hooked up to machines Akaashi by my side. He held my hand when I cried and admitted the cause of the flowers.

“Keiji I really love him…And I don’t know what to do…,” I sighed looking at her before I spoke “You two have been friends for years im sure you’ll be okay no matter what,” She shook her head eyes wide in fear “Keiji…loving him is different I can’t tell him!”

Bokuto was the reason for those snow white rose petals.

I was twenty four when the first petal appeared. It was a f/f petal clutched in my palm. That was the same day I told my friend Kuroo.

“Kuroo I’ve got something to tell you,” Kuroo heard Bokuto’s voice over the phone speaking as soon as Kuroo had answered the phone. “Aw are you about to express your undying love for me?” He snickered at his own joke but Bokuto didn’t laugh with him “I’ve got Hanahaki Disease...,” Kuroo took a sharp inhale of breath when Bokuto told him what was wrong. “Oh fuck,”

That same age I was rushed to the hospital during my match. I was hooked up to machines with Kuroo by my side. He sat next to me when I admitted the cause of the flowers.

“Kuroo it hurts. Why does it hurt so much?” Bokuto’s hand was pressed against his heart a fresh trail of blood on his face and trashcan overflowing with f/f petals. “Bokuto…,”Kuroo said staring at his friend feeling sad just watching him. “I love her Kuroo so why does it hurt?” Bokuto looked up then locking eyes with Kuroo and Kuroo gasped as for the first time he saw Bokuto’s normally bright gold eyes were now dull and lifeless.

Y/n was the reason for those f/f petals.

They fell in love with each other at different times. She fell slowly not willing to jeopardize everything they’d have for years.

“Keiji I can’t tell him! It’d ruin everything even if he felt the same,” She was nervous as I spoke her eyes looking everywhere but my face. “It wouldn’t ruin everything Y/n,” I soothed her rubbing gentle circles in her hand “I can’t risk everyone’s friendships for this,” she whispered finally looking me in the eyes. Her eyes had lost their normal spark and I knew she was missing him.

He fell fast but unwilling to put their relationship on the line.

“Kuroo I’m not telling her,” Bokuto’s arms were crossed over his chest his iv needle jostled slightly causing him to hiss in pain. “Bokuto nothing will change!” Kuroo mirrored the arms crossed position as he looked at Bokuto. “Everything would change!” He threw his hands up trying to emphasize his point.

It was a funny thing though back in high school everyone always assumed they were dating.

“Y/n!” She turned in her spot her eyes catching Bokuto’s “Kota!” she cheered as he wrapped his arms around her and lifted her up in a hug “Aw they’re so cute together,” A first year said while everyone nearby stopped to watch. “There goes Fukurodani’s power couple,” Konoha said from next to me with a chuckle. “I wish I had a relationship like theirs,” Another third year girl said. “We aren’t dating!” Y/n claimed still holding on to Bokuto. Its not like he helped though “Yeah!” He yelled pouting as he rested his chin on top of her head. “Yeah right,” A second year whispered nearby.

Those last few days in the hospital though…Those would stick with them forever.

I walked her to Bokuto’s room she had finally cracked and decided to tell him her feelings. We walked in her holding onto me and she held onto the pole holding her I.V bag. She looked at him he was sitting up in the bed looking no better than she did.

Both of them looked so tired. With eye bags and skin discoloration everywhere. They both bruised so easily now and were malnourished and dehydrated. Both had been unable to really eat or drink anything since they often threw up flower petals.

Bokuto’s hair was down and messy and I shivered at the depressing aura in the room. She moved forward and nudged his feet to get him to move them. Both of them seemed aware of the other’s fragile states being very soft in their touches. It however was very obvious both of them wanted to hold each other.

She sat when he moved his legs and Kuroo went to stand by me. I noticed he was taking pictures and he smiled when I noticed. “So they remember how dumb they are,” he whispered. She reached forward and took his hands holding them lightly “Bokuto please listen I love you,” He pointed at me then and offered her a shaky smile. “No...You love him Y/n,” he was trying to convince himself she didn’t and she knew that.

“No Kota I love you,” his eyes widened then knowing she was telling him the truth. She never lied to him when she used his nickname. He would have been able to tell if she was lying anyway. For once his gold eyes returned to their normal brightness as he leaned forward.

I remember how they hugged sobs falling past their lips and tears running down their faces.

“Kota I’m so sorry!” her head was buried in his chest as she cried arms wrapped around him. “It’s okay I’m here…and I’m sorry too,” He placed a kiss on top of her head as he whispered his response. I didn’t know why they were apologizing to each other but then again. I didn’t need to know they were happy and that’s what mattered.

I remember how they kissed hushed I love yous falling past their lips and their tears mixing together everytime they kissed.

“I love you so much Y/n,” Bokuto said pressing soft kisses to her face and multiple against her lips. “I love you too Kota…so so much,” she had replied back in-between the kisses. Her hands were in his hair running her fingers through the silver and black strands. “I feel like we shouldn’t be here,” Kuroo whispered to me as we looked at them.

His hand was holding tightly to her hospital gown the other hand was on her hip rubbing small circles into it as she sat on his lap. Their foreheads rested together at this point both of them closed their eyes basking in silence and finally being able to hold eachother.

“Maybe…But they deserve this Kuroo-san,”

I remember her sitting between his legs as they talked about the future. They talked about their future son.

“His name is gonna be Keiji Tetsuro Bokuto!” Bokuto had exclaimed Y/n was leaned back against his chest. His arms around her waist and she was holding his hands. Bokuto would occasionally press kisses to her neck and shoulder blade but it never seemed to bother her.

“Wait wait wait! Why is my name the middle name?” Kuroo asked looking at the pair. “Because Keiji is mine and Bokuto’s best friend,” Y/n responded with a smirk. “So will they be a middle blocker since Y/n chose his first name?” Kuroo asked wanting something besides a middle name.

“I think he’d make a good setter,” I voiced smirking at Kuroo while he glared at me. “You’re both wrong! He’s gonna be a wing spiker like his father!” Bokuto exclaimed looking at us with a proud smile.

I remember how all four of us argued and how they described how their son would look.

“He’s gonna be 6’1 and just as cheerful as me!” Bokuto said with a smile gold eyes bright as he talked. “I hope he has s/c skin like me,” Y/n said leaning back against Bokuto’s shoulder while he hummed looking at her. “I think he’ll have shiny h/c hair like you!” Bokuto suddenly said looking at Y/n with a bright smile. “Well Kota I think he’ll have big golden eyes just like you,” She said as she turned back to look at him.

A hand hit my shoulder causing me to flinch as I looked away from the paper I was writing. Kuroo stood their a small smile on his face. “Ready to go Akaashi?” He was wearing a dress that barely reached his knees unlike myself where I was in a suit. Normally we didn’t dress up on weekends but this weekend was special.

I remember how Bokuto proposed on his hospital bed a thin silver ring placed on her finger when she accepted.

Bokuto was laying down now Y/n pulled on top of him. His arms were still around her and the sun was setting. Kuroo and I had assumed by the soft breathing that the two of them had fallen asleep. Until Bokuto spoke up breaking the peaceful atmosphere

“Hey Y/n marry me?” He whispered. She lifted her head up and looked at him her eyes were wide in shock as she spoke.“W-what?” “I want you to marry me,” He said again looking at her with so much affection in his eyes.“Kota I…Of course I’ll marry you,” She whispered kissing him he reached beside him and put a small silver ring on her finger. Sakusa had brought it for him earlier when he asked.

“Can we get married in the spring? The cherry blossoms always look so pretty then,” She requested as she placed her head back on his chest. “Anything for you Y/n,” He whispered burying his nose into her hair.

We reached the hill that the two of them had met on. I always remembered that day too unaware that in a few years we’d be back for a different reason.

“Bokuto-san slow down!” I called watching him run towards a hill. He turned to face me now running backwards his school tie fluttered out behind him and a wide grin was on his face. “I can’t Akaashi! I’ve been sitting still ALL DAY,” He shouted back towards me. I saw behind him a girl with h/c hair walking by seemingly unaware of her surroundings.

“Bokuto-san watch out!”I called pointing behind him with wide eyes. He turned suddenly but couldn’t slow down in time “Wha-?” He ran into the girl knocking them both down. I winced as I got closer hearing a groan from them. Bokuto sat up suddenly looking at the h/c girl “Ah! I’m so sorry!” He shouted helping her back up. The girl rubbed her head and waved a hand at the apology before speaking. “No um it’s okay really!”

“Hey what’s your name?” Bokuto had a curious look on his face head tilted to the side. He was staring at the girl with wide gold eyes and yet she didn’t seem bothered by it in the slightest. “Me? Oh I’m L/n Y/n!” She chirped smiling and holding a hand out. “I’m Bokuto Koutarou!” He said matching her smile before he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you Bokuto,”

I sighed as I got there looking at the cherry blossom petals that fell down around us. “Today’s the day huh Bokuto-san and Y/n to of course,” Kuroo came up next to me.

I remembered them talking about the wedding wide smiles on their faces and holding onto each other tightly.

“I think we should have a dog bring the rings!” Bokuto stated throwing his hands up from where the rested on Y/n's back. She scrunched her nose at that. “No Kota the dogs should be the flower girls!” She said back her voice clearly indicating she was tired. Bokuto hummed in thought it must have been pleasant as she burrowed closer to his chest.

“I like that! Can Kuroo be the ring bearer?” Bokuto asked putting his hands back and tracing soft circles into her skin. She sighed in content at the action while Kuroo scoffed. “Wait why me? Why not Akaashi?” He stated with arms crossed “Im Bokuto’s best man that’s why,” I answered the question for them as the fatigue was beginning to wear on them both.

“Yeah and Yukie is my maid of honor! So you can be the ring bearer,” Y/n mumbled from her position. “Can I be a bridesmaid instead? I’ll even wear a dress,” Kuroo called. “Fine but only if you find a replacement ring bearer,” She whispered and I stood “Good night you two,” I said looking at Bokuto and Y/n.

Kuroo got up as well as Bokuto and Y/n whispered a good night. “See you tomorrow,” Bokuto mumbled nuzzling closer to Y/n his eyes barely open as he looked at us. “See you tomorrow,” Kuroo called back. Bokuto’s eyes closed then and he sighed. The last thing we heard before walking out were Bokuto and Y/n talking to each other quietly.

“I love you Kota,” “I love you too Y/n,”

“Sorry we were late there was some traffic!” I turned seeing my old volleyball team and the MSBY team everyone in suits or dresses. Sakusa had a pair of rings in his hand after he was made the ring bearer. Iwaizumi had brought Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki. Each of them had a dog with a basket of flowers. “Well let’s get this started then,” Kuroo said as he took his place on Y/n’s side while I moved to Bokuto’s side.

Two hours later all of us were leaving to go a restaurant. I sighed as we left Bokuto and Y/n behind their rings sparkled in the sunlight. We left them with a bouquet of white roses on Y/n’s side and f/f on Bokuto’s side. I stood for a minute facing the two grey slabs of marble side by side like they deserved and let my final memories of them go as I stared at the photo of them Kuroo had left.

It was of them holding each other with tears running down their cheeks and smiles on their faces.

I remember how they admitted their love for each other when it was too late to save them.

I remember them at twenty four leaving the world curled up in each other’s arms unaware that they wouldn’t wake up again but they left knowing one thing.

They knew they loved eachother.

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TAGLIST: @wonhomarshmallow

#haikyu #haikyuu!!#haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #bokuto koutarou #bokuto x reader #bokuto angst #WhosaskingAngst #bokuto fluff

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suekre · 3 years

Note

So ive followed you a VERY long time (like from the deviantart days lmao) and i only just realised that you were talking about ocd in that post. Just wanted to let you know that i have ocd as well and god it is exhausting and i know exactly how you feel! I finally start therapy for it in 2 weeks. Pls know that i love your art and you very much and appreciate everything you create and share with us. All the best!! X

Hey you, I know you! Thank you for coming to my inbox and sharing this with me, I appreciate that so much. :) I am SUPER happy for you that you are about to get the help you need, that is awesome. I wish I could have had it at the time!

(And oh boy, the good old deviantart days, haha! Always happy to have my longtime followers around! :D)

OCD is exhausting indeed. People who aren’t affected can’t imagine what a nightmare it is. I, personally, am more prone to intrusive thoughts than actual obsessive-compulsive behavior. When people hear „OCD“, they usually think of obsessive hand washing or „leaving out every black tile while walking through a kitchen“ or so, while it can manifest in other ways. I didn’t know back then. I just thought I was going completely crazy at the time. I think I mentioned my disorder at times but I never actually openly talked about my own experiences (where I come from, mental disorders are a big NO NO, because it’s all in your head, just pull yourself together, other people are ACTUALLY suffering, it’s just dumb thoughts, you just need to think positive, y’know).

I kinda feel like doing it now. Just to get it out, and also to occupy my brain and hands and hey, maybe someone else can pick this up and find themselves in my own experiences. I sure know how relieved I was when I found out I wasn’t alone with my what I thought was a ‚Very Weird, Unique and Niche Problem‘.

I gotta admit first - I’m doing much better nowadays. Even my worst days, as horrible as they may feel at the time, do in no way compare to the hell I went through in the second half of 2015. I have come a long way since my last (and so far worst... omg, oof, I hope there won’t be another) episode of intrusive thoughts. But, oh boy, was it intense. It was the absolute worst time of my life, ever. I’m not writing this to scare anyone. Anyone who is familiar with this, will know how bad it is and anyone who can’t relate at all won’t feel affected anyway and will maybe even think something along the lines of „What the fuck?!“. I get it. It DOES sound crazy.

I have always been an overthinker. I always needed more validation and reassurance than other people around me and for the longest time I had no idea why that was. It was usually subtle - always kinda there but never strong enough to actually affect my life in a negative way. I just felt off at times, and not always super good. But I was generally ok, I could always manage.

Until that one episode that changed my life forever. I know that sounds dramatic but, even though I am in a good place nowadays, it sure DID change my life. I was 31, I lived together with my then-boyfriend and I still remember the exact date. Friday, July 24th, 2015. I remember the exact moment when my entire mind collapsed. It’s so weird, it literally happened from one second to the other. I am not making this up to sound more dramatic, it was a matter of seconds.

I was on my way home after work and I felt… restless and stressed. It felt good to get off work (it was my first full time job and... it didn’t go well, to put it nicely) but I was no longer really looking forward to my week off, and our trip to our favorite Open Air the following week. I picked up some dinner on my way, I came home, and I saw my boyfriend in the middle of the living room, he was making some preparations for our upcoming trip. When I saw him, tall and handsome and smiling at me, I smiled back but inside I felt like crying. My smile was fake. Kissing him felt weird, and also fake. And all of a sudden, there it was. The life changing thought:

„I don’t love him anymore.“

A simple thought. I had weird thoughts before, like anyone does, but they never had any greater impact on me. This time, though, that one thought knocked me off my feet. Not literally, I had turned into a pillar of salt somehow. This was the Perfect Man Of My Dreams (at least that was what I thought back then). The man I wanted to spend my life with, the man who made me happy every day! How could that even be, how could I even think something like that?

I felt even more restless. I didn’t tell him, of course. When he asked how my day was, I put on my fake smile again and said it was okay. We ate our dinner (although I had instantly lost any appetite), and I kept looking at him and the thoughts... just kept coming back.

You don’t love him anymore. What if you don’t love him anymore?

On repeat. It was awful. I just couldn’t shake them off.

It’s the stress, I tried to tell myself. You’re overworked. It’ll be good, you just need some rest.

But I couldn’t relax. My heart was racing, my blood was pumping. I didn’t know what was going on. I begged him to leave his work undone and take me out for an after work drink and he agreed. All the time, the thoughts wouldn’t leave my mind. I didn’t want to think them, but they were merciless, they just kept coming back. I felt so helpless.

A few drinks later, I had calmed down a bit, at least so much that I could stand to look at my BFs face again without feeling guilty. There you go, I said to myself, not quite convinced, you’ll be good. It’s already wearing off. When we crawled into bed later, I was tired and relaxed (and tipsy) enough to sleep and convinced that this was just a little glitch, that things would be just fine in the morning.

When I woke up, I felt exhausted. My heart was racing... and the thoughts came back IMMEDIATELY.

You don’t love him anymore. You gotta leave him.

What. The. HELL!? Why are these thoughts still a thing? Why are they still there? Why do they keep coming back?

I kept trying to push them away but the more I tried, the more intense they became. As if they tried to spite me. I started losing focus on everything else around me, the world slowly started to blur. It was just Me And My Thoughts from here. I tried my best to hide my state, and I think I managed for a while, but I felt like a robot any time I talked to someone. When people would pick up on my confusion, I usually brushed their concerns off. It’s nothing, I’m good.

I mean... how do you even tell someone that you just. can’t. stop. thinking. about whether you still love your boyfriend or not? According to the world, that is something you “just feel and know” after all. Except that I didn’t. I had no clue. I couldn’t feel anything. But, according to the world, that was perfectly normal, too. “Honeymoon phase is over at some point, babe. That’s everyday life, you grow comfy, it’s no longer a flash of feelings every day, you know that. You guys have been together for a while after all, what did you expect?!” ... what I felt didn’t feel like comfy everyday life either, though. Comfy everday life shouldn’t come with high key anxiety, sleepless nights and a loss of appetite at any lived second. If that was comfy everyday life, I sure didn’t want it.

So, what do you do when you have no clue about something? Right! Google! Go and ask the world! “How do you know that you still love your partner?”, “Is the love gone?” ... I spent hours, DAYS doing that, but no answer I found was remotely statisfying (or maybe it was for a minute, but the reassurance never lasted long) and I felt that those articles didn’t actually understand what I was asking in first place. I would spend every day like that. Permanently asking myself the same questions, analyzing myself, testing if the Big Feels for the man had decided to come back... nah, not really. Maybe NOW? If I just look at him close enough?! ... maybe if I squint a little?! Fuck, still nothing! Niente! Nada! I am a horrible person, aaah!

(Our open air trip was an emotional disaster by the way, I felt horrible all the time, and the permanent rain didn’t help. -3/10, do not recommend).

If I had known at the time that I wouldn’t spend just a few days but (more or less) six months with this shit... oof. I was already exhausted after those few days.

Over the course of the next weeks I stopped eating almost entirely. I just couldn’t. This permanent tight anxiety knot in my stomach made me want to throw up at the mere thought of food. At my worst point I weighed 138 lbs (63 kg), at 6 ft 1 (1,85 m). I often joked about how I had almost reached runway model standard. I was sick, I was weak, I was scared, but I just couldn’t eat and the bits I DID force myself to eat were burned almost right away by my crippling anxiety. (I still have clothes from that time, and I sometimes beat myself up for no longer fitting into them before I remember that I should NEVER fit into them EVER again.)

Instead I smoked a pack a day. I hardly got any sleep and when I did, it wasn’t relaxing. Always in Fight and Flight mode. My body was at alert level any minute, any day. I’m still asking myself how it could be that I never actually... collapsed. I was always tired, exhausted and malnourished... I dunno, you tell me.

The thoughts never really disappeared. They kept coming back in all variations. You don’t love him anymore. You have to leave him. You may not want to, but you have to. You don’t love him. I had very few “good moments” in between but in those good moments, my mind was usually frantically looking for explanations and reasons behind all this. For ways to improve my relationship, to feel better about my boyfriend. I came up with the WEIRDEST shit. Almost every day I found something new that bothered me. One day he was a little boring. That’s it! We gotta go out more, do more stuff, that’ll change everything. ... aaah, no. Guess not. The next day, it was something else. The day after THAT, it was something entirely different again.

I was suddenly prone to making some HELLA weird impulsive decisions, too. „I gotta break off contact to that one person RIGHT now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!“, “I gotta talk to my mom about THAT particular incident in my childhood right now, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”, “I gotta make a trip to the mall JUST NOW, THEN I WILL FEEL BETTER!”… the decisions made total sense to me the second I made them, for about ten minutes at most, but the initial rush of relief started to fade again quickly and I frantically started looking for new solutions. Google was my best friend. I couldn’t go a day without googling exessively. Overthinking, pacing, googling. Any day, any hour awake. Over weeks. A few months even. My mind was constantly reeling. It was a bottomless pit.

I cannot put into words how exhausting that was. Sometimes the idea of throwing myself out of the next window seemed SO tempting, not because I wanted to die, but because I wanted the thoughts to stop tormenting me.

(I was out of regular therapy at the time, btw. I thought about calling my therapist about it but never did it. I felt isolated, I literally thought I had to do this all by myself.)

At some point, a few months into it, I somehow transferred to zombie mode. The thoughts became a little less intense over time. They were never gone but not quite as nagging anymore. But any time I wasn’t in alert mode, I felt just hollow instead. Sucked dry of any joy, of any emotion, of any sign of life. I just... functioned. Still tried to hide it. I dunno how well I did with that. Probably not at all well. I kept it all to myself, just because it felt that ridiculous. Tried to find excuses. “I’m just tired.”, “You know, there’s a lot going on in my head right now, but I’ll be good.” ... truth is that I don’t remember a whole lot of that time, it’s all blurry. There are just a few significant moments.

Such as that one evening, after work, when I left the building, made a few steps and stood five (or ten? fifteen??? who knows?! not me.) minutes on the spot, motionless, because I could no longer remember my way home.

I got fired from that job, by the way. I’m sure it was mostly due to low performance, I get it, but I can’t blame my poor state alone - they were also assholes.

Anyway.

I had, of course, never stopped the googling and one day, after hours of browsing any niche I hoped I hadn’t browsed yet, I somehow found a blog written by a young woman like me. The description tackled almost all of my thought patterns and I was blown. away. She asked herself the very same questions, with the very same twists, and... she even had a name for it.

ROCD. Relationship Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I cried for what felt like hours. Out of relief. There was a person in this world who knew exactly what I was going through. And she even had tips how to overcome it. It wasn’t the first time I had heard about OCD, but as it had never affected me in any way before (I, too, associated it with compulsive hand washing and tile jumping), I wouldn’t have thought of it. After doing my own intense research on the subject, a huge part of me and my life finally started making sense to me. Not much was known about ROCD at the time, but it kinda didn’t matter anyway. What mattered was the OCD part. The subject of the thoughts is entirely interchangable. It’s the chain of thoughts itself that has to be broken. Don’t focus on the relationship. Break the chain instead.

The internet also recommended exposure therapy but as therapy wasn’t an option at the time (weird German laws... regular health insurance covers only a limited amount of therapy lessons within a certain span of time and I had used mine up and there was no way I could pay myself), I decided to try it myself, the key points being:

* No more googling, no more reassurance. Learn to live with the uncertainty, learn to live with Not Knowing.

* Let the thoughts happen. Watch them pass by. They’re just thoughts, they can’t harm you. Don’t fight them, just recognize them and let them stay, they’ll get less scary over time.

* Focus on other things, as hard as it is. Try to occupy your mind and your body. Any minute you spend doing something else but brooding is a win.

It all sounded so very abstract at the time, but I was determined to give it a try. Oh gosh, was it hard. After months of emotional torment and getting used to unhealthy ways of coping, it was SO DAMN FUCKING HARD to NOT google. To NOT think. It felt like torment all over again. How was I supposed to just let the thought sit with me!? It was scary, I didn’t want it! Just ONE little peek, only a second, come ON! I won’t do it again after that?!

Oh god, it was the worst, it really was. Trying to break the chain while I was so desperate to save my relationship was terrible. I honestly don’t remember HOW I made it... but I made it. I somehow... clawed and bit my way out of it. I went right through the pain and made it. It’s not actually a linear process but there comes this point (and I know a few people I met on online platforms who would back me up on this) when you know the worst is over. You just know it. Things weren’t exactly good by the time the thoughts were history but I had reign over my own head again, I could actually SEE the world again, and that was worth everything plus my body weight in gold.

I’ll stop right here because the following months weren’t about my OCD anymore, but about figuring out needs, figuring out myself and what I wanted from life and this particular relationship and it’s not quite relevant and another story. (I DID love my ex-BF but it turned out he wasn’t at all good for me, I had ignored all the red flags for too long, and it didn’t take long after this for us to go separate ways)

I hated this particular time in my life while it lasted but I have learned and taken so much from it. It has changed my life in so many ways. I learned that things are never set in stone, not for anyone. That there will always be uncertain times on our ways. That change is always scary. That it’s okay to be scared. That staying in crappy situations for the sake of it isn’t always the right thing to do. Sometimes, doing the right thing (aka leaving a relationship that isn’t good for you) can make you sad. Love does not equal compatibility.

Looking back, I am - in a very bizarre and twisted way - grateful for the experience. It was an incredibly important lesson for me that taught me to be kinder to myself, to look out for myself and to listen to my own needs. That I should put myself first at times. For the first time of my life, I really got in touch with myself and my own emotions. I learned to understand them, I learned where they come from. I learned to cut myself slack at times.

The list goes on and on, but you get my drift. I know myself inside and out at this point. That wasn’t always the case. Not until 2016.

It still comes back at times. Not with such full force, but it keeps creeping back in, pretty much any time I have to deal with uncertainty in my life. Bad news at work, not hearing from a friend for a while that I’m dying to hear from (inevitably thinking that they MUST be mad at me) or when I spot a few symptoms of sickness that I’m not familiar with (I practically never get sick). Not Knowing What Will Happen drives me CRAZY. I hate uncertainty, I need my life to be stable and calm to fully function.

Now, in COVID times, it’s mostly the fear of suffering from an incurable disease. AGAIN. I’m familiar with that, too. I’m not even scared of catching the virus, I just fell right back into overthinking any symptom I have, even if it’s just a short pain in the neck or whatever (you know, things that one usually brushes off). When my life was busier, I was MUCH better at handling those thoughts. Most of the time, they didn’t even come up in first place. Sitting inside and avoiding contact 99,9% of all times, and having little to no actual distraction („reading/watching movies“ doesn’t help me personally, it does’t occupy my mind enough, I usually just stare right through the pages/screen), however, leaves FAR too much time for the thoughts to unfold, once they come up.

This subtle but lingering concern for my health puts my body into a permanent state of anxiety once more. Fight and Flight mode. The pace of my heartbeat is always slightly, but perpetually, increased. It isn’t always outright panic attacks, it’s this constant state of having to be… alert. Something MIGHT happen, y’know. Be prepared. Relaxing and doing nice things becomes almost impossible. Instead, I get tired and exhausted. Depressed, even. It sucks the joy right out of me. I feel like living under a glass dome. I see what’s happening around me but I am unable to connect, emotionally. People keep living their lives and I can watch them, but I can’t be a part of it. It’s a deeply crushing feeling. I manage to somehow function but I don’t really feel alive. My abandonment issues and fear of „getting left behind“ kicked in again, too. I want to catch up and take part but can’t so I stress myself over THAT, too. This only adds to the exhaustion and makes me feel even more isolated.

Hello, vicious circle, my old friend.

I didn’t even realize that I had such huge potential to fall right back into it. It all started… I dunno, by mid/end of January?? It’s a bit blurry this time. It is directly connected to Germany’s recent lockdown, though. A massive case of Not Knowing How Things Will Turn Out. I failed to take better care of myself in the past few weeks. And now I’m here. AGAIN. Ugh.

But well, as I said, it’s not as bad and, as I said, I have at least learned some important things over the years. In this particular case of intrusive thoughts, the first rule is: NEVER GOOGLE SYMPTOMS. And never google shit like „chances to survive (whatever illness think you have at the time)“, either. The mind longs for reassurance but googling symptoms is BAD, as we all know by now. It’s not even reassuring when you do it. Because you’ll inevitably end up diving through the vast internet for HOURS, picking up an entry that some person named Kevin made on a cancer forum way back in 2004, saying that his uncle died the next day after finding out he has cancer and that is, OF COURSE, what will happen to YOU, too. There is no other way. YOU WILL DIE.

Excuse the text walls. I took an opportunity to ramble about my own experience, for the first time ever since it happened (not including the few short talks I had with the few people I met on internet forums).

To anyone who made it this far: Thank you so much for reading. It sure felt good to write this down for once, even if it’s just a short summary (yes, really, I mean, we’re talking six-ish months here), and the descriptions fall woefully short. If anyone affected by the same happens to read this - I am so, SO sorry you are suffering so much. You are NOT alone and you are NOT weird. Talk to someone. Open up. To your doctor, or you therapist, if you have one. To a person you trust. It is the worst but there are ways, there is help. I wish I had known at the time it started for me.

You know now. :)

P.S.: DON’T FUCKING GOOGLE:

#ocd #rocd #obsessive compulsive disorder #relationship obsessive compulsive disorder #mental disorder #sanne rambles

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kookicat · 3 years

Text

When You've Walked My Road

None of the others have been to this safe house, and if he has his way, it'll stay like that, because it's less safe house and more medic station, with cupboards packed with every supply that they might need. There's a sturdy wooden table that he keeps scrubbed, and five camp beds, because if they ever have to retreat to the place, he's making sure the whole team is there and locking the place down.

He pulls out the big medical bag and dumps it on the table, flipping it open to inspect what's left inside. It's still almost full, missing just a few bandages and dressing packs from their last job, but they're going up against Damien Moreau -Damien fucking Moreau- and while Nate seems blissfully unconcerned about the potential for danger, Eliot can't let himself fall under such illusions. He knows intimately just how dangerous the other man is, and if he can't stop Nate running them up against him, at least he can make sure they're as ready as they can be. Mitigate some of the damage when things go bad, because he honestly can't see how this ends without bloodshed. God, I hope I can keep them all safe, he thinks, and rubs the back of his neck, feeling the tension there. Let me be the one bloody, if it comes to that.

The thought brings him neatly back to the medical supplies and he grabs an empty tub, pulling everything out before he wipes the inside of the bag with sanitiser spray and spools up his mental checklist of what needs to be inside. Dressings, band aids and bandages are a simple staple, along with tape, and he adds in two more packs than he hopes they'll ever need, following them with wound cream and wipes, because it's an easy first step in avoiding an infection. He pauses, then tucks another tube in, because between him and the minor injuries Parker gets, they go through the stuff with frightening speed sometimes. He drops in a couple of slings and splints, rubbing his wrist in reflex, because he'd picked up a nasty sprain a few jobs ago and a splint would have made the drive home a lot more comfortable.

He knows it surprises people that he knows how to heal as well as how to bust heads, a dichotomy they can't quite reckon, but it makes perfect sense to him. His whole unit had learned basic medical skills, because if the guy next to you is shot in the gut, you don't have time to wait for help. And anyway, in his line of work, knowing how to patch yourself up can be the difference between life and death, because bullet holes and stab wounds tend to attract the wrong kind of attention at an ER.

He flips open the trauma shears, checking they still work and tucks them in, next to a smaller kit that includes single use scalpels and suture packs. On a whim, he adds a couple of disposable tweezers, because Parker had got a nasty metal splinter climbing through a duct on their last job and Sophie's still moaning about them using her expensive tweezers to get it out three months later. It makes him smile, just for a second, before the tension in his gut takes over again. Some jobs just feel wrong, and this is one of them, doubly so because of Moreau's involvement. Eliot's no coward, but you don't take down a guy like Moreau; you either put a bullet in his skull, preferably from a distance, or you keep the fuck out of his way.

He pokes his mental checklist and digs through the tub, pulling out a handful of hemostatic dressings and elastic bandages. The items are on the list of things he carries but hopes never to have to use, because uncontrollable bleeding isn't something he can fix in the field and anyway, the damn stuff burns like fuck. There's a neat round scar on his bicep to attest to the fact, and he can still remember the terror of watching his blood pour out of him like water from a tap. He tucks the items in the bag, because if his life had taught him anything, it's that it's better to be over prepared than under prepared.

Rain lashes against the windows, and the sky is filled with dark and looming clouds that match Eliot's mood perfectly. He adds a bag of IV supplies, the plastic catheters incongruously cheerful in the dim light. He's pretty sure his arms are still bruised from teaching Sophie and Parker how to place them, but it'll be worth it, if this goes down how he thinks it will. Three bags each of normal saline and Lactated Ringers solution go in next, along with a couple of banana bags. If they need more fluids, they're in hospital territory, and the thought sends a weird little shiver through him. It's not exactly a premonition, but it still reinforces just how bad an idea this job is.

Maybe I can get Nate to listen, he thinks as he packs the drug case back in the medical bag, adding Zofran as an afterthought, because he knows he'll puke his guts up with a bad enough concussion and going through that once was awful enough that he never wants to do it again. There's a couple of types of broad spectrum antibiotics in there, just in case, too. He knows Nate, knows that now he's got the scent, nothing will stop him, but Nate isn't the only stubborn one on the team and maybe, for once, they can get him to listen to reason. The rest of them have the choice of going along for the ride or getting out of the way, but the thought of leaving Nate to handle Moreau alone makes well hidden anxiety worm through his gut. He's committed and that means being prepared, so he heaves a sigh and tucks a couple of tourniquets under the webbing on the outside of the bag, where they're easy to get at quickly. If they have any luck left, they won't need them, but anything involving Moreau feels like a curse.

Just the sound of his name makes Eliot's hands feel sticky, coated in drying blood, because God knows he'd shed enough of the stuff in the man's employment. He flips the bag back open and adds in a box of gloves, then walks around the table to drop heavily on the seat there, exhaustion hitting him suddenly. It's well down in the AM and he's been awake this best part of twenty four hours. It's not the longest he's ever been awake, but that doesn't mean he doesn't feel the drag of tired muscles, the dull throb of a headache that's been with him since Nate announced the plan. The safe house is chilly, because he hasn't bothered to kick the furnace one, and he shivers, forcing himself to his feet because the job's not done yet and he wants the bag finished before he sleeps.

Silver foil emergency blankets go in next, along with heat and cold packs. He runs warm, but Parker and Hardison both tend to get cold easily and that's bad if they're also nursing an injury. Shock is no joke and he's run that gauntlet enough times to respect it. He adds burn gel and dressings, just in case, because Parker has no fear of climbing through steam vents that any sane person would avoid. The bag is bulging and he runs through his checklist one more time, satisfied that he's got everything he might need.

A quick glance at his watch tells him that he has three hours to grab some sleep and he heads to the ratty but comfortable couch in the small living area, dropping down onto it with a sigh and bending to unfastened his boots before he swings his jean clad legs up and tugs the ugly knitted throw down over himself. He blinks, yawning, and knows if he wants to function properly in the morning, he needs to sleep, but his mind is buzzing with what if's that he just can't shake. He forces a breath out through his nose and shifts a little, getting more comfortable. Every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is his team, broken and battered and bloody on the floor. After what seems like an eternity, he gives in and reaches under the table next to the couch for the bottle there, lip curling in self disgust as he downs a good mouthful. It's a crutch, and a crude one at that but any port in a storm and he's facing a big one. The booze takes the sharpness off everything and he settles back down, eyes closing, and finally lets himself rest.

#leverage #eliot spencer #team as family #the big bang job #Eliot prepares for battle #fanfic #fan fiction #episode tag

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newhologram · 3 years

Text

Now that I’m home, I expect Keith will be back to say that I only pretended to be sick for the dRuGs. Random hospital stuff:

(tw for suicide attempt mention a bit below)

This was my first time being admitted, surprisingly. I’ve never been hospitalized like this, only had short ER stays. I realized that it was the longest I’d stayed at a hospital since I was born and had to stay in the incubator. I took a walk with my IV and wondered what the halls of the hospital looked like in the late 80′s.

Two weeks ago during my first visit, the poor receptionist had to ask so many people to put their mask on. They’d just march right into a hospital with nothing covering their faces?? One of them put a mask on (wrong) and then sat to charge his phone and grumbled to the person next to him about “oOOooo we’re supposed to believe this place was just FILLED with dead bodies a few weeks ago” wat

These past two times the ER had some splashes of chaos that I had not experienced before. It’s usually quiet every time I go. The first time there was a teenage girl in so much pain and then having a screaming panic attack. I felt so bad for her. Eventually both of us were in wheelchairs in the lobby awkwardly facing each other. We were both so tired and slumped in our seats.

(TW suicide attempt) A while later two people brought their friend in. They couldn’t stay because of the patients-only rule for covid, but they were very thorough and provided pictures of bottles for the staff. This young man ended up in the same room as me and so I heard them pump his stomach. Sounded absolutely miserable. I hope he’s okay.

A guy was wheeled in at like 6am with a broken ankle from a skateboarding accident. I heard them behind the curtain getting him to sign a form so they could knock him out and pop the bone back in aaaaaaaaaaaa

The man next to me was admitted for hearing voices. He sounded very distressed and they brought in a remote robot-doctor to talk to him. They could barely get him to focus enough to talk about medication.

I was running to the toilet so much during the colitis attack the first visit so I had to unplug the IV/monitors constantly. The nurse said she could bring me a thing to go in (not the sample hat) but I was so worried I would make a mess or something. I’m sure they deal with that kind of stuff all the time but I didn’t want it to be me T_T

All of my nurses were awesome but especially the first and last ones. The first one very cheerfully got the blood thinner belly-shot ready for me. I was nervous because my belly is so sore already obviously but I asked, “this can’t be worse than a butt shot, can it?” and it wasn’t. But she was still apologetic and asked if I was still her best friend when she injected me. xD

This same nurse helped me with the enema before the scopes. It says a lot about how desensitized I am to having to constantly deal with butt stuff that we were able to do my enema, painful and bloody and all, while having the nicest conversations. She trusted me enough to ask about certain things like gender identity and vocabulary around queer stuff. It’s so nice to talk with adults who are accepting and supportive. She told me that she believes in things being meant to be and she expressed that she was happy that she was meant to be my nurse. BAW

I was having a hard time waiting in the GI lab for my scope. I was just feeling awful, physically and emotionally. But the team that did my scopes was awesome and instantly cheered me up. The doctor was like, “so I hear you’re a gamer?” and I was surprised he knew (learned from the nurse lol). He asked what my fav game is and he told me excitedly his was Pong. The anesthesiologist was getting ready to knock me out and she said regarding my pick, “aww, I never got to play that one, but I played 1-3!”

She also asked about my cervical spine issues since it was on my file and so she made sure that they were really gentle with my neck for the upper scope. I appreciated it so much, the last thing I needed was a neck flare up on top of this. They put my mouth guard in and she began zonking me. I said “byeeee... seeee yaaaa” and next thing I knew I was concerned about Anna Nicole Smith in the recovery room.

As usual I was incredibly raw and sore after all the biopsies. The swelling and abdominal pain persisted and so I was calling the night nurse a lot. Eventually he stopped waiting for me to ping him and just came in every 4 hours to give me more morphine which only seemed to give me like 20 mins of relief each time. It was a really rough night and I didn’t sleep much at all. Lots of night sweats and waking up gasping, which is a problem for me anyway, but I had hoped the drugs would help. I think the stress was just overwhelming.

Eventually I asked if they had toothbrushes because I felt nasty and I joked that I hadn’t even thought to bring my 12-step skincare regimen. The night nurse laughed and said “ohh, that’s why your skin is so nice, we were wondering about it. What brands do you use?” and so we had a nice chat about skincare which is always welcome :D

My last nurse was really spunky and fun. She kept my spirits high and even went out of her way to find me a heating pad which finally allowed me to get a much needed nap in.

Overall, unpleasant because hospital stay, but all of these good people really made a big difference. I felt heard and cared for.

#teku #personal #long post

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taliel-strykidz · 4 years

Text

Ending!

It’s finally here, I’m sorry for the long ass wait :( It’s not great but here you guys go!

Huannie couldn’t understand why it felt like there was something over her eyes making it difficult to open them, but she fought the urge to succumb back to the darkness and wrench them open, she felt like she hadn’t done that in a while. Her whole body ached upon trying to move and everything from physically and mentally felt foggy.

Feeling something wet on her cheek she brought her hand up to wipe it only to feel something tug in her arm, looking down she saw something plastic feeding into her veign, although everything was foggy she was well aware that the distinct shape of the the plastic thing on her arm was an IV.

She glances upward, her mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. Her eyes are fixed as if she’s looking at something a yard away, but in reality she was staring at the ECG machiene mimicking her distressed state. Finally she launched herself up into a sitting position and observed where she was. She was in the hospital room the managers would usually request when an Idol was needing medical attention, but it looked different. There were piles of letters stacked on the armchair, boxes of plushies scattered on the desk and alot of overnight duffle bags shoved into the corner.

“Hello?” She called out weakly, a few minutes pass and no one had answered. Throwing the dozen blankets off the bed in agitated disorientation she rubbed her eyes furiously. “Mom? Taeyong?” She called again, her voice cracking like she hadn’t used it her whole life.

There were scrambling footsteps outside of the door in the hall sprinting over to her door, speaking of the door it almost got ripped off its hinges as the nurse came inside to assess who was talking. This person Huannie had never seen before in her life. Although the brown haired nurse in front of her look unfamilliar there was a slight nagging in the back of her brain that she knew this woman. Her chocolate brown hair was in a beautiful messy bun; her doe brown eyes looked absolutely bewildered.

“Annyeonghaseyo... Um could you please tell me where my family is?” Huannie asked matching the womans terrifyed eyes, the woman still stares at the Idol with wide eyes, her mouth opening and closing, not being able to find the words to properly explain to the woman sitting in the bed what situation she was actually in.

“They- They should be due to arrive like usual- They’ll be here soon.” She managed to get out, the nurse stood at the door trying to remember what her senior told her about coma patients that just woke up. The nurse bows to take her leave but Huannie tried to get out of the bed to stop her/

“Who are you?” Huannie burst out with brimming eyes, the nurse turned to look at her with a tembling lip but only grabs her hand.

“They’ll be here soon, okay.”

Huannie couldn’t believe what was going on, she didn’t think she wanted to anyway. The last thing she remembered was telling Heechul to tie the belt around his leg, but it seemed alot longer had passed with such a reaction from the nurse. She forced her knees up, hugging them to her chest. Her hand working back and forth over what seemed like healed scars on her legs, all while feeling the irregular box like shape in her chest area. If she didn’t get some answers soon she had a feeling she would vomit, already she could feel the bile in her throat.

She saw the door opening slowly, revealing Park Jinyoung, standing at the door looking like he would vomit himself. Huannie assumed he was the one who was nearby considering he was alone, soon a worn out Na Jaemin entered behind him.

“Jagi? What’s going on- Why are you crying?” She asked worriedly watching as his knee buckled ever so slightly hearing her voice after four months of only hearing his own breathing. “Oppa?” Her voice cracked under the immense confusion circling around in her head, a scared tear slipping out of her eye.

“Jaeminnie? Tell me, what’s going on?” She asked the younger boy hoping that he would be of help, the teenager only stared at her with his beautiful eyes watering, but he at least had a relieved smile.

“You’re scaring me,” She voiced, only she wasn’t sure who it was directed at whether it was at the two standing in the room or at herself who couldn’t come up to an answer to any of her own questions.

It felt like a lifetime of sorrowful tears before one of them spoke.

“You’re awake.” Jinyoung says, slowly walking over to the armchair next ti her with Jaemin following quietly.

“Yeah.. I’m awake?”

“Angel, you’ve been- you were- you were in a coma.” He mumbled quietly, staring down at the hand he’d grabbed instinctively as he sat down. She stared back at him in pure loss for words as he stared back at her with an expressionless face.

Her heart leaped as she took in the faces of the boys, first trying to figure out if this was some kind of joke, but judging by their shaking hands and non stop tears her own hands seemed to trembled as she tried to remember what happened after the crash. “For how long? Like a week?” She asked desperately trying to get at least one answer out of the million that were drowning in her mind.

The two looked at eachother as if they didn’t know if they should tell her, for their own sake because they didn’t want have to talk about the events of what’s happened throughout the time she was lay in pain. But Jaemin spoke anyway.

“It’s been four and a half months Noona.” The teen whispered painfully as he grabbed her hand to steady his racing heart.

Huannie’s already dry mouth felt as if it had been sucked of any remaining water and threatened her tongue to smash into tiny little pieces. She shook her head in denial as she furiously wiped the tears rolling down her cheeks with her palm.

“This is a joke.” She snipped and laughed without any ounce of amusement. “It not a funny one, but some twisted joke right?” Anguish could be seen on her face as she desperately pleaded with Jinyoung’s eyes to tell her it was all a joke or a dream, but Jinyoung only shook his head.

“No, Angel it’s not a joke.” He replied placing his his head in his hand to rub away his tears.

“No, it’s not possible. It can’t be. I was with Heechul yesterday, singing in the car and then-”

Huannie cried as if her brain was being shredded from the inside out, emotional and physical pain flowed out of her every pore. From her mouth came a cry so raw that even the eyes of the people walking past the hospital room were suddenly wet with tears. She grabbed onto the two boys hands so that her violent shaking wouldn’t make her fall off the bed and from her eyes came a thicker flow of tears than she had cried for her own mother two years ago. We don’t really think about death, but when you find out you were close to it it unerves you.

Upon seeing her right in front of him, brick by brick, Jinyoung’s walls came tumbling down. As she clutched onto his hand the tears in his eyes turned into a hurricane. He just broke down as the nurse guided a soft smiling Jaemin out of the room. When they cried there was a rawness to it, like the pain of four months ago was still an open wound. They both clasped onto eachothers hands for support, anything that would tell eachother that the other was there, and then their bodies would shake. Jinyoungs sobs were stifled at first as he first panned to comfort the woman, but realising that she was there crying with him the wave of emotions hit and he broke down entirely.

“Jinyoungie?” She finally spoke. “Who was playing the piano? The one that Jonghyun was singing to?” She asked desperately looking into his eyes.

“Chenle played the piano last month, but no one was sing-”

“Jonghyun sang it in the meadow, he sang it to me.” She corrected him.

“Angel are you sure it wasn’t a dream?” Jinyoung replied. Huannie refused to believe it, she saw he late bestfriend playing the piano in the meadow she was sure of it.

After a minute of Jinyoung realising eaxactly what she was meaning he sat softly on the bed next to her and brough the crying woman into his embrace.

“Has it really been four months?”

He gave her a weak smile and squeezed her closer to his chest.

“Longest four months of our life Angel.”

#nct 19th member #female additon #female oc #NCT127 imagines #oc member #NCT U Imagines #nct scenarios #Park Jinyoung Imagines #Na Jaemin au #Nct Au

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skiyooomis · 4 years

Text

warmth

oikawa tooru x reader

A/N: here it is! my second fic! sorry that it's pretty short :/ and i hope guys catch the reference to the “jenny’ by studio killers in there :)

Warnings/tags: fluff, friends to lovers, oikawa lowkey bein a cheeky shit, and more bad writing </3

3rd year is the year where you're supposed to do everything that you haven't done yet. so what’s taking you so long to confess?

you stood outside the convince store with your arms crossed trying to find at least an ounce of warmth. it was december which meant only a few months until graduation. you knew you didn't have enough time, so what's taking you so long?

"why are these idiots taking forever?", you huffed into your scarf. of course the day it started snowing would be the day you forgot your coat. maybe one of the boys would lend you a jacket. heck, hopefully oikawa would let you borrow his.

as you about to pull out your phone to text them to hurry the hell up, you heard the chimes of the door signaling that someone had opened the doors. you looked up to see oikawa, iwaizumi, mattsun, and makki holding bags and drinks in their hands. they were laughing about something, probably something stupid that oikawa did. he was always doing something stupid.

"oi, y/n-chan! did you miss us?", oikawa walks up to you with a smirk. "i missed everyone else but you." you rolled your eyes at him. you turned your feet to walk in the direction of your neighborhood. you could only hear the sound of the snow crunching under your feet mixed with oikawa's obviously fake gasp.

"so mean, y/n-chan!", the rest of them laughed as they started to walk with you. "we got you tea and onigiri, do you want it?", mattsun held out the bag near you. you slowly grabbed the bag and thanked him for buying you food.

your arms were shaking as you pulled out the onigiri from the plastic bag. "curse this winter weather." you thought to yourself. you took a sip from your tea, hoping it'll warm you up for at least the rest of the walk home. the plastic container that held the onigri opened with a snap as you took it out.

oikawa watched as your body shivered, trying to keep your cup from spilling. "eh? is y/n-chan shivering? did she forget her coat at home?" oikawa thought to himself, paying no attention to the conversation his friends were having. he fumbled with the zipper of his jacket, deep in thought.

you were about to take another sip of your tea when you felt something cover your shoulders. you looked behind you to see oikawa without his jacket, and his jacket on you. snowflakes started covering his head, making you laugh in your head. "he looks cute like this." you thought to yourself, making a small smile appear on your face.

you felt your cheeks heat up as you stared at his face. was he blushing? no, it's probably the cold weather. oikawa cursed at himself for blushing, probably making it obvious that he was flustered. he just felt so bad that you were probably freezing. he's always told you to bring a jacket during the winter time just in case if it snows, but everytime you just brushed him off, saying you'll be fine.

"um, you looked cold." was all that he could say. he looked at the ground and started walking next to you, leaving the rest of the 3rd years. "you really didn't need to, but thanks." you mumbled, taking a sip of your hot tea, which is becoming warm now.

"eh? of course i needed to to! you looked like you were about to die of frostbite!" he laughed. that laugh, it makes you feel warm and safe. you started quietly laughing with him. you swore you could hear wolf whistles coming from iwaizumi, mattsun, and makki. you shot a glare at them and they instantly shut up and looked away.

"ah, y/n-chan is scary." makki whispered to mattsun and iwaizumi. they hummed in agreement, watching again as you and oikawa probably bicker about something. you both fighting is something you both did often, usually oikawa starting it.

"i'm surprised that she didn't bite his head off when he gave her his jacket." iwaizumi started to chuckle. the truth is that, they are tired of seeing you both unknowingly flirt with each other. heck, there might even be some sexual tension. if that you both didn't get together before graduation, they might have to meddle a bit.

as you neared your house, you started saying your goodbyes. oikawa decided to walk you to your front door because "ladies shouldn't walk home by themselves!" of course you smacked him for that, but in reality, you felt the butterflies in your stomach from his words.

the walk up to your house was quiet, both of you deep in thought. the sun shined through the clouds with tiny drops of snow falling on your eyelashes, slightly clouding your vision. you're going to miss this. you really didn't want this end. almost all of your friends moving out of the area. you're just going to cry thinking about it.

then there's oikawa. you know he'd probably travel far to peruse his volleyball dreams. you don't even know what you're doing for college yet, but whatever you end up doing, you'll still be far from oikawa. but you can't blame him, he's doing what he loves. you really do respect that.

thoughts raced through your mind at 100 miles per hour until you felt a hand around your wrist that stopped you in your tracks. "y/n-chan, we're here." you looked up to see oikawa giving you a concerned look, wondering what you were thinking so hard about that made you almost walk past your house.

you blinked the snowflakes on your eyelashes away and turned to your house that was already in front of you. "oh." you said softly. your cup of tea was now empty and your onigiri lone gone. you fiddled with your fingers as you stared at oikawa. you swear you could see sparkles in his eyes when he started back at you.

you turned your body to face him so you could say goodbye. "this is it." oikawa thought to himself. your friendship could end right here, right now. but he just needed to know if you felt the same way, at least before he left. oikawa shot you a smile, starting to walk closer to you. you felt like your heart was going to jump out your chest. with every step he took, there was less and less distance.

"you know y/n-chan..." your heart started beating quickly in anticipation. this is it. he found out about your crush and now he's gonna reject you. deep inside, you were hoping he'd confess. no, that would never happen. he just wants to be friends. maybe he'll let you down slowly at least. you started you brace yourself for the worst.

his face was only centimeters away from yours, throwing all personal space out the window. what was he doing? you furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. oikawa's face was full of confidence but fear at the same time. even if you were wearing his jacket, you still shaking. you were scared what he was about to say.

"i think we should ruin our friendship." what does he mean by that? did your feelings make him that uncomfortable? you broke from your thoughts when he titled your chin up and grazed his thumb over your lips. no, this is a dream right? your eyes kept darting across his face to make sure he wasn't playing a prank on you. he leaned in to whisper in your ear.

"we should be lovers instead."

as he said those words, you felt all time slow down. like the snowflakes were falling even slower than they were before. he looked backed at you as a way of asking for permission and you nodded. he leaned in and as he did, you both felt sparks fly through the two of you. it's like watching a firework show, it all happens so fast. you finally felt yourself heating up from the kiss, feeling like you don't need oikawa's jacket anymore.

you both pull away, with a flushed expression on your face. "are you being serious, oikawa? you're not joking?" your words squeaked out, afraid that this was one big joke. his arms started to snake around you, pulling you into his chest. his heart was beating rapidly, so maybe he wasn't lying. he was so nervous to confess to you, scared that you would want to stay friends.

"why would i lie to you?" he mumbled in the softest voice you've heard from him in a while. he took a deep breathe before speaking again, "i've always loved you, i'm surprised that you never saw it." he pulled you deeper into his chest, like you were going to run away after he told that. but instead, you just held him even tighter.

you felt tears threatening to spill out of your eyes. this is all you've ever wanted. ever since you were seated next to him during second year. where he would test his lame pick up lines on you and showed you his little doodles on his worksheets that made you giggle. you smiled at the memories of last year. "ive loved you for the longest, oikawa. i'm just shocked that the feeling's mutual." you couldn't tell if you were crying or laughing at this point, but this was probably the best moment of your life.

"i wish we could stay here, but we'll get hypothermia." oikawa started to pull away and grabbed your hand to lead you to your front door. you smiled at him, probably the biggest smile you've had in the longest time.

"oikawa, does this mean that you're my boyfriend now?" you looked up at him, with your cheeks heating up for the 10th time of the day. you reached into your packet to grab your keys, fumbling to find the right one. you felt him peck your cheek just as you were about to open your door. you froze and squealed at the sudden action.

"just call me tooru, and yes that means i'm your boyfriend." he smirked at you. mad that he got you flustered, you punched his shoulder, "you didn't have do that!" you buried you face into your hands to hide your tiny grin.

"you're so mean, y/n-chan! i confessed my love and this is how you treat me?" he whined. you rolled your eyes at him, finally opening the door to your home.

"dating me doesn't exclude my bullying, dumbass!" you whacked the back of his head. you felt him hug you from behind as you were taking off your shoes. he rested his chin on top of your head. "you know what, as long as i'm dating you, i can live with that." oikawa told you softly.

you finally found your warmth.

#haikyuu #haikyuu!!#oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru #oikawa x you #seijoh #aoba jōsai #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #iwaizumi hajime #matsukawa issei #hanamaki takahiro #haikyuu headcanons #hq!! x reader #flower! writes hq #oikawa fluff #friends to lovers

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orionwhispers · 5 years

Text

Wishing It Was You; Tommy Shelby Imagine

(A/N - hey guys... its been a while. I started this in april and finally finished it. she might be my longest yet my fave imagine ive done. im tired and lazy so sorry if there are any mistakes. PLZ let me know what you think and my ask is always open!! ily)

Tommy knows he's standing next to Grace.

He can feel the warmth radiating off her skin, can feel the pressure of his hand against the curve of her waist, can smell her expensive perfume, with it’s notes of rose water and lemon, lingering on her neck, but all he sees is you. Grace is leaning into him, her giggles sounding like twinkling diamonds as she laughs at a joke he hasn’t registered, his mind completely preoccupied with thoughts of the woman standing at the other side of the room.

He hadn’t expected to see you here. In fact, he hadn’t expected to ever see you again. It strikes him like a bullet in his gut, leaving him winded and gasping for air in the middle of an expansive ballroom, the gin on his tongue suddenly as hot as acid.

Have you seen him yet? The thought fills his brain like a buzzing hornets nest, the feeling is immediate and prickling at the back of his skull.

Do you know he’s here? Have you noticed him?

Most importantly though… Did you come alone?

His hand unconsciously tightens around Grace’s waist and she smiles at him, as sweet as sugar, completely unaware of the femme fatale on the opposite side of the room, capturing her husbands attention and luring him like a siren.

He bites his tongue until he can taste metal and copper. A fresh wave of guilt and shame collapse over him but he swallows it down like it’s nothing but a lump in his throat.

He loves Grace, he adores her. He isn’t doing anything wrong.

And yet, he can’t take his eyes off of you.

At first he thought he was going mad. He hadn’t believed in ghosts and spirits since he was a boy, sat in a caravan, reading tarot cards with his Mum. He became too used to death and decay in the war, too used to seeing blood and rot to believe in a chance of a second life - not when he had sinned so much in his first.

He hadn’t thought of you in so long. Hadn’t conjured up the image of you in his mind like he used to do late at night, imagining the feel of your skin against the pads of his fingertips, the smell between your shoulder blades, the weight of your ribs underneath his.

You were always at the back of his mind though. No matter how hard he pushed you away, your smile and voice would always linger at the back of his head, a beam of sunlight whenever the shovels would get too loud.

You were real though. You were back. He could tell only because of the way you captivated everyone around you, the faces of those enchanted by you were proof that you weren’t just a memory his drunken mind had created. Throwing your head back and giggling, chewing on the bottom of your painted lips, you had everyone under your spell.

He can’t take his eyes away from you. Its like he’s a puppet and you’re toying with the strings without even realising. He’s tethered to you, no matter how far apart you may be.

“Tommy?”

Grace’s syrup like voice cuts through him like a blade, and he straightens up. He’s acting like a teenager and the thought repulses him, he’s a businessman, not a child. He’s fought in the war, dealt with fearless gangsters and killed men with his bare hands, how come seeing you has rendered him breathless?

He turns to look at her, her gentle features illuminated under the chandeliers, her brow is furrowed with a mixture of mild irritation and curiosity and he lets her familiarity wash over him like the ocean. She smiles kindly at him, turning her attention back to the guests surrounding her, and Tommy feels a clench of white hot shame that whilst he is stood next to his wife, his mind is dizzied with the thoughts of another woman.

Grace is Grace.

She’s beautiful and soft and kind and warm. She was the stability he needed, the type of woman he needed to come home to, she tended to his wounds and listened to his rants and kissed his scars. She was too good for him and he knew it. She had lied and deceived him in the past, but it strengthened their love, rebuilt their trust like a fortress. He loved her, he wanted to have a family with her.

But she would never be you.

You were as familiar as the peaked cap that adorned his head, you were as much as a part of him as the gun in his holster. Your face flashed in his mind whenever he heard the last gasp of air from an enemy, it was you who appeared in his dreams and rescued him from the depths of his nightmares. It was as if you were stitched into his skin since the very first day you met when you were children.

He needs to get home, he can’t stay. Too long and you’ll sink your claws into him. Too long and everything he’s worked so goddamn hard for will start to crumble around him.

He flattens his palm against the back of his wife’s dress, ready to make hasty excuses and polite apologies and leave, nestle her into the back of his car and drive far away.

He opens his mouth to speak, but before words can slip from his tongue, he spots a smug, sparkling eyed Polly approaching, arms spread, lips curled into a smirk.

Fuck being polite. He’s Tommy fucking Shelby, he can do whatever the fuck he wants.

His hands curve around Grace’s spine and she tuts in protest, ready to scold her husband for his haste, but she snaps her lips shut at his flushed expression.

“Oh Tommy! Isn’t it wonderful?”

Polly approaches, already buzzed, arms spread like a bird in flight, just waiting to engulf him. A cigarette dangles from the corner of her cherry painted lips, her eyes gleaming with a mix of alcohol and mischief.

He inwardly curses, Polly cornering him like a lioness, ready to tear him and his wife apart. She’s practically chomping at the bit, the delight of seeing your familiar face and the knowledge of what that’ll do to Tommy and Grace making her float across the floor. She’s drunk on elation and glasses of champagne, her mind too fucked to even think about the consequences.

“Oh Tom!” She repeats, cradling his face like he’s a boy again. Under any other circumstances he would be delighted to see his Aunt so happy, a sight he was rarely blessed with, but now he’s wishing for anything else. Grace’s grip tightens, he can feel her stare on the side of his skin, burning holes into his flesh. Polly feels her gaze and turns to the blonde beauty, her disdain for her nephews wife enough to drill the final holes into his coffin, sealing him shut into eternal darkness.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s back.”

Grace stiffens beside him, arching a penciled eyebrow at her husband and opening her lips. Tommy can feel his palms moisten, an unfamiliar sensation that takes him back to being a teenager, one that only ever occurred around you.

“Who’s (Y/N), Thomas?”

————————————————————

You were the same age as Ada, reserved and soft spoken, new to Birmingham and all of its smoke and gristle coloured cobbles. She saw you one day in the school yard; sat alone on your first day, picking at the skin on your swollen lips, round doe eyes following the other children roughhousing and laughing. She was immediately drawn to you, her inquisitive mind growing protective, and it wasn’t long before she strode over to you, confident as ever, introducing herself and deciding to take you under her wing.

The two of you became fast friends, sharing jam sandwiches and apple slices under the sun, skipping along the streets and throwing stones into the cut at dusk before your parents hastily called you inside and scolded your recklessness. You barely left one another’s side, spending every night you could at each others house, giggling and gossiping under the covers, trying on your mothers makeup and making sticky pinkie promises to be best friends forever.

The years passed and you still remained attached at the hip, growing closer than ever as your limbs grew and you wandered into adolescence, facing every problem you encountered together. You were Ada’s shoulder to cry on when her mother passed, sleeping next to her in a single bed for month on end as the night terrors kept her awake. You grew closer to Ada’s family as well, especially considering the amount of time you spent there. Aunt Pol became a surrogate mother to you, chastising you and supporting you and always being there for you, sometimes with a smack on the back of the legs, like the time she caught you both smoking before you hit your teens.

You became a fond fixture in the Shelby household, slotting in like just another straggly stray at the dinner table every night. You were young, but you weren’t stupid, you had known the Shelby boys since the very first day you came back to their house and even as a child you could sense the mischievous aura surrounding them. As you grew, so did your curiosity, and it wasn’t long before you learnt of the betting shop located in the back room of Pol’s house. Ada and Polly were both protective of you, and managed to keep you out of trouble despite the spark of interest that brewed in your stomach and so that back room just became another chest to lock in the back of your mind.

They both knew that there was something different about you, and as you grew from a timid child to an inquisitive teenager your thirst became insatiable. Ada had always recognised the unpredictable nature the you harboured, you could be quiet and meek but under the surface your brain was a kaleidoscope of spontaneity. It was you who suggested late night adventures and rain splattered trips that got you both into trouble, you who dreamt of cities and lives bigger than the both of you. Ada adored that about you, your desire for change something she wasn’t used to in the dismal, grey town she grew up in but deep down she was terrified that you wouldn’t ever be satisfied.

She wasn’t the only one who noticed the impulse in you. From the very first time he saw you all those years ago he noticed the crackle of electricity under your docile exterior, bubbling under the surface like lightning that struck the sky. Of course, back then you were just a child and Tommy was far too interested in pursuing the betting shop than taking notice of his little sister’s friend, but he always kept an eye on you. The two of you had a bizarre relationship, despite the age gap between you both, you managed to find a level ground. Whilst Arthur and John would ruffle your hair and swing you over their shoulders as if you were still a toddler, Tommy would talk to you as if you were an adult, the two of you could bicker like siblings but there was a mutual respect underlying it all, you both connected by your need for more.

It came to a head when Tommy was counting money at the betting shop one evening in August. The sun was fading to the colour of a bruised peach and the air was still warm, notes stuck to his fingers and he hummed in frustration just as the large doors swung open. His head snapped up and he came face to face with a flushed Ada, her cheeks were as red as a Gala apple and tears welled in her wide eyes. Tommy immediately reached for the gun shoved in it’s holster ready to send bullets flying over his watery eyed sister, before her exasperated voice broke through the silence.

“It’s (Y/N)! She’s had a fight with her fucking dad and now she’s gone! Please, Tom, can you help me find her?”

As Tommy had the family car, he was left trawling through the country lanes surrounding the city whilst Ada and Pol searched your usual hiding spots in Small Heath. According to Ada, you had about a two hour head start from your house, and Tommy’s foot itched over the pedals at the thought. This was hardly the first time you had run away, usually it was over to Polly’s for the night after you had had enough of your family, but after a particularly bad spout with your parents last year, Ada had found you halfway to London. You were definitely a flight risk.

Tommy’s hands clenched over the steering wheel as the sky darkened, you were a beautiful teenager, walking alone through the streets at dusk; it was a recipe for disaster. Tom knew you could hold your own, but the creatures that lurked around at night were ravenous and there was no way in hell he would let them sink their claws in you.

Tommy could feel heat prick at the bottom of his spine. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that the feelings he harboured for you stemmed much more than the ‘sibling love’ he disguised them as. The attraction between the two of you had always been there, something magnetic joining you both before you could realise it. Over the years it had blossomed, despite his attempts to distinguish the fire that you brought out in him, something about you had captivated him.

All of his thoughts turned to wisps of smoke as he rounded a corner, nearly swerving into a thorn bush as he spotted you. You were walking with determination, and he couldn’t help the smirk that grew on his face as he watched you march forward like a solider, your small frame filled with force. Your hair was loose, draping around your shoulders like a halo, bouncing with every step you took.

He trailed behind you, edging his foot off the gas and waiting as the car slowed next to you. He knew you noticed the intrusion from the way your shoulders tensed briefly, and he allowed the car to match your pace, the two of you moving like boats on water. He knew you would be the first to speak, and allowed your words to run over him like warm milk and honey.

“Hello, Thomas. Out for a drive?”

He smiled, rolling his eyes slightly before responding. “C’mon (Y/N), time to come home.”

“No thank you.”

“It’s getting late.”

“Is it? I hadn’t noticed.”

He tensed his foot against the gas, the car rumbling lowly and rolling forward. He pulled it into park right in front of you, the dark exterior blocking you from walking any further up the lane. You exhaled in frustration, the tips of your ears and the apples of your cheeks flushed the colour of Shepard’s delight, and he cant help but bite back the smile curling in his mouth. He patted the seat playfully and watched as you scuffed your foot into the mud like a child, coyly sucking on your tongue before clambering next to him, crossing your arms and settling into the leather.

Tommy’s hands rested on the steering wheel, he flexed his fingers for a moment before turning to face you, examining your skin under the dim light. Both of your fathers had a lot in common, alcoholic, nasty and violent, something dark like rum boiling inside of their blood, men who ruled with fear and aggression. There were no marks he could see, not like the time your arm was coated in purple thumb prints that left him seething, only calmed once you and Ada had snuck off to her room and he could control his thoughts with a cigarette. That night he pretended he couldn't see Polly watching him like a hawk.

“He didn’t hit me this time.”

Good. He would have killed him.

“Kind of wish he did though, Mum bought a new frying pan that could have come in handy.”

He let you talk, the birds and the wind the only noises disturbing the peace. You were quiet, and it was rare for you to open up like this, so he cherished the moment despite the underlying bleakness of it all.

“I know it seems childish, but it just feels easier to get away.”

He hesitated, looking down at you picking your nails in the front seat of his car. The words forming on the edge of his tongue tasting like whisky, not knowing how to comfort you without implicating himself. He tried to imagine himself as Polly or Ada, the kind of person who would know what to say.

“You have people that care about you, you don’t need to fuckin’ up and leave.”

“I know I do, but anywhere is better than Small Heath.”

He blew air through his teeth. “It ain’t so bad.”

You swivelled to face him, round eyes and raised eyebrows set on him like a sniper. “Really, Tom? You do know you’re saying all this sat in the front seat of a bloody Bugatti? Bought with dirty money might I add?”

It’s the first time he’s seen you so heated and despite the truth in your words the sight of your small face twisted in annoyance is enough to make his lips curl, only adding fuel to your fire.

“You can sit here and tell me that all you want, but you know better than anyone that there’s more out there than Birmingham. I can see it in you Tom, and if you want you can act like you don’t need anything more, then that’s fine by me! But I hope you’re alright with lying to yourself.”

He stared deep into your eyes, expression blank and solid as if your words had truly punched him in the gut. You watched him for a moment, cheeks flushing slightly and eyebrows scrunching, wondering if maybe you had over stepped the line before his eyes glimmered and he held his hands up playfully, peaked cap bouncing with every exaggerated movement.

“Alright, bloody hell. Remind me not to get in a fight with you. I can see how much our Ada has rubbed off on you.”

You let a tiny smile tug at the edge of your lips before it expanded and took over your face, tossing your head back and letting your hair fall over your shoulders as you grinned. Tommy swore he felt his heart skip a beat. He started the car as quickly as he had stalled it, feeling it purr and jut under his feet, the world righted once again now that you were sat next to him. The car rolled over a bridge, and after you crossed over onto the other side he cleared his throat, opening his mouth to speak.

“If you ever feel like running away again, come and see me first, alright?”

He kept his eyes on the road, but could feel yours on the side of is neck, running softly over his flesh like fingertips.

“If I didn’t know any better, Thomas,” You spoke teasingly, using his full name just to get under his skin, “I’d think you were going soft.”

The evening sun beat down onto the two of you, and as the car lurched forward he mirrored your own smile, because maybe he was, for you.

————————————————————————-

After that long drive home it was like a switch had flipped. The two of you became closer, as if an invisible thread was tying you both together. You were allowed into the betting shop more often, counting coins and change and bickering playfully with the Blinders. Tommy took you to your first horse race under the guise of “teaching you more about the business” you wore your finest dress and he pretended he couldn't feel his breath catch in his throat when he looked at you. His hands clung protectively around your waist as you downed a glass of strawberry wine, rolling his eyes and smiling as you laughed into him as the horses galloped and the crowds cheered. You spent evenings climbing through the window in his bedroom, sitting on the sloped roof tiles as rain pattered onto the streets below, sharing a cigarette and watching the stars peek through the smoky air, unsaid words bubbling behind both of your lips as yours knees pressed together.

The rest of the family noticed the change between the two of you, but said nothing. Even Ada couldn't help smiling to herself when she saw the glances that you shared, her kind and clever older brother was the only man she could possibly think was good enough for her best friend. Although she would never admit it, it meant he was distracted enough to not notice her leaving to spend time with a certain man named Freddie.

Tommy drove you to the beach for the first time, exploring the pier and walking barefoot across the sand. Your wide smile as you danced in the surf and talked under baying seagulls was forever cemented into his mind, he vowed silently that he would move mountains just to see you happy, the feeling unlike anything he had ever felt. He taught you how to shoot a gun, your body pulled flush against his as you squealed in delight as the bullet ricocheted off the can. Your conversations flowed like running water, able to converse and laugh about everything and anything from dusk till dawn. He was mischievous and playful and would crack jokes even on your worst days, when your father was mean and your mother was distant, he would make you feel whole again.

That’s why, on a rainy Thursday as the two of you walked side by side by canal, you pulled his face towards yours with your small hands and kissed him. He froze, with all of his previous girlfriends he had always initiated things first, but with you he had felt uncharacteristically hesitant, terrified of scaring you off and losing you. However as your parted lips met and he felt you smile into his mouth, tasting of cherry jam and stolen tobacco, he let his hands snake around your waist as if they had been carved there. The wind whistled and the rain splattered both of you, his peaked cap sheltering his ruffled hair and your face from the droplets, it was freezing but heat crackled between the two of you. You were practically half his size, resting on your tip toes to meet him fully, but in that moment he knew you had him utterly under your thumb.

The relationship the two of you shared was pure and untainted. It was all soft skin and moonlight painted faces, freckles and wide teeth and apricot coloured skies. His hand would brush against yours as he walked you home, you’d laugh into his neck at the Pictures, your words would mingle together at midnight as you sat and talked. Things couldn't have been more perfect, as sweet as the whisky tea you would drink with Ada and Polly, as merry as the laughs you shared with the brothers and as syrupy as the kisses you would have with your first love. But just like the smoke that filled the once clear sky above your heads, your life was soon to darken.

It all happened so suddenly, maybe your blissful youth had created a candy coated picture over the political dramas happening around you, but now they couldn’t be ignored. There was going to be a war. You knew from the start the brothers would be drafted, they were filled with pride for their country, they were young and fit and strong, they knew how to fight, punching and slashing with their razor blades, but you loathed the idea. You bit your tongue until it bled, knowing there was no point in arguing, but that didn't stop you staining your pillow with tears every night.

You refused to let the boys see you in such a state, and tried your best to enjoy the last few days you had until you would be separated from your family. The ache in your chest remained despite your false bravado, dinners were different, quieter, and you would often catch Polly staring at nothing, as if she could see a ghost.

Tommy took you away the night before. He drove the caravan for miles, his favourite dappled mare pulling you through fields of wildflowers as the sun followed you overhead. You parked in the woods by the river, silence falling over both of you. His hands laced through yours, thumb running over your soft skin, and you watched him, drinking in all of his beautiful features like whisky.

“Will you wait for me?”

His voice is quiet, so unlike his usual boyish, playful tone. Seeing him so vulnerable was like a bullet entering your heart. You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling the soft cotton of his shirt dance against your cheek.

“Forever.”

He intakes sharply. He plucks a daisy from the grass, toying with the tiny flower between his large palms before turning to you and pushing it behind your ear, looking at you in a way that makes your body melt like butter.

“I love you.” He watches you, gauging for your reaction, but you don’t give him any, you just look up at him with those big fucking eyes. He exhales, turning back to face the water as he continues. “Known it since we first met. Since that very first day, when we were just kids, I knew. You had a hold on me since day one. I couldn’t leave without telling you…telling you how grateful I am for you.”

His voice softens, “How much you mean to me and because of that,” He clears his throat as if struggling to get the words out, “I’ll understand if you want to move on, find someone else or…”

You don’t let him continue, you attach your lips to his as if they were magnetic, feeling him collapse under your touch. You pull away much too soon for his liking, a smile reaching your eyes as you press your forehead against his, the light making you look angelic. “Stop talking.” You kiss him again, harder, in that teasing way you have mastered so well.

“I love you too.”

Under the stars, as the moonlight bathes the caravan in a soft eerie glow, you pull off the straps off your sundress, watching Tommy follow you as if he’s in a trance. Calloused, firm hands meet your tender flesh as he worships you like a Goddess, unable to believe that you are human. You give yourself to him fully, and it’s unlike anything he’s felt, the connection flowing between your bodies stronger than anything, love and lust connecting as your bodies mesh. Despite his earlier sentiment, as he buries himself inside of you, he loathes the idea of another man touching you and you can feel the heat radiating from underneath his skin and pull his face to you, staring him down, telling him everything he needs to know.

You’re his, and he’s yours.

Candles flicker around you, painting your limbs the colour of the sunrise. You playfully touch his nose, and then his lips, dragging them open with your finger. Your bodies are slick with sweat, exhausted but alive, feeling as if you are the only two people in the world despite the knowledge of what lurks ahead, you just feel young and blissfully in love.

“You won’t forget about me, will you Shelby?” You tease. “Won’t find a nice French woman to take my place?”

You’re joking but he kisses you silent, eyes connecting to yours, “I’ll never be able to replace you, little one.”

——————————————————————

No one expected the war to last as long as it did, least of all you. Every day you sat by the radio, waiting and wanting desperately for news that it was over, but every day you would leave with tears filling your eyes. You busied yourself the best you could during those long, dark days. You and the girls ran the betting shop, you looked after John’s kids and Finn as if they were your own - despite your young age, the war had forced everyone to grow up.

Four years is a long time, and that’s exactly how you felt as you waited on the platform, hand in hand with Ada, waiting for your boys to come home. You felt as if you had swallowed rocks, nausea bubbling inside of you, acid in your throat. He had been home three times since it had started. Three times in four years had you been able to see his face in real life, touch his skin, tell him words that wouldn’t do justice on paper. You had seen the effects of the war distort the people around you, heard awful tales of shell shock and seen men returning home with missing limbs and broken hearts. Every day you waited for that call, that piece of paper that told you Tommy wouldn’t be returning, but blessedly it never came, and finally, he was coming home.

You’ll always remember that day he came off of the platform. The last time you had seen him had been so long ago, but even then you had noticed the grey of his skin, the pain in his eyes. He was quieter, milder, refusing to speak of the horrors he must have endured, instead focusing on light happy stories. You wondered how much he had changed since then.

He was beautiful.

He still had that boyish look, his sharp jaw and tousled hair, but he looked older, haunted. You felt your knees buckle at the mere sight of him, the way his eyes danced over the platform, looking for something, someone - you. Your eyes met and you watched them glimmer, something you had been starved of for so long that you devoured the feeling. Euphoria bit through your skin and tears pricked at your eyes. You ignored everyone else, storming through the crowd like you were the solider, racing with your arms wide open, not caring how childish you looked. He smiled in what looked like relief and laughed in exhaustion as you fell into his arms. He held you so tight that you could feel the air expel from your chest but you didn’t care, you cried hot, wet tears into his shoulder, and you felt him bury his head in your hair. He looked at you, breathing hard and opening his mouth, but before he could speak you smashed your lips onto his, melting into his touch like all those years ago.

“Welcome home, Tommy.”

——————————————————————

Weeks passed, and it was as if the darkness had seeped into his skin. You longed to tear it off of him, wished that you could swap yourself with him, carry a little bit of his pain, but you knew that was impossible. Night was when he found solace, with you wrapped up in his arms, breathing in your sweet clean scent, something he had been deprived of for far too long. If you strayed too far in the night, woke up for some tea for a sore throat or simply because your mind was restless, you would hear the gut wrenching moans and cries leave his lips and would dart up the stairs two at a time to crawl back onto him. The first time you heard it he sounded like a fox with its paw in a trap, something so inhumane that it stayed with you like an awful lullaby on loop in your brain. As you managed to wake him from his own nightmare, he pulled you impossibly close, breathing into your hair as you whispered words of comfort, feeling utterly helpless.

After the war, everyone had their own poison. Arthur started boxing, channeling his anger and frustration into fighting, Freddie started protesting, looking for change in places he found wrong, and for others like Danny Whizzbang, sometimes the war clung its teeth in too far and refused to let go.

Tommy however, became obsessed with power.

You had known about his incredible work ethic and savvy business skills since the very first day you met, but now his hunger was insatiable. He was up before the birds had started chirping, planting soft kisses on your collarbones as he left for work, and didn’t come to bed until you physically had to drag him away from his desk. You were worried, but as always he conducted himself in a manner that made it seem like he was always in control, smooth and charming, unfazed by his hectic schedule and the looks you sent him.

It came as no shock to anyone that Tommy had been leader of his unit, the kind of man that people would listen to and follow without hesitation, the kind of man that knew how to be in charge. You knew some things about what had happened in the tunnels, horrors so unimaginable that it tore your heart in two to think of him suffering, and you were just left wondering what kind of marks that would leave on a man. His high ranking earned him thanks and praise wherever he went, he was honourable and that lead more and more men to join the Blinders, wanting to be close to such a powerful man, wanting the things he could offer.

The experiences he’d suffered through had led him to become disillusioned and determined to move his family up in the world, especially you. He became increasingly overprotective, a trait you at first found endearing and then ultimately suffocating, you knew he meant you know harm, wanting to shield you from the things he had endured, but you felt like a child again. You longed for trips to the country, to walk along the beach with him, to sleep under the stars, but it was as if that part of him had been killed on the front line.

You would be a liar if you said you were unaware of the illegal activity going on in the betting shop, you had always known of the shady dealings going on behind closed doors, but they thrilled you, excited you, mainly because you always knew that Tommy was in control, he could never get hurt. Your whole life you had always wanted more, hungry for a lifestyle that never bored you, but now you were wondering if you had bitten off too much.

He was changing, morphing in front of your eyes like a creature you had read about in a storybook when you were a child. Growing up his violent tendencies were sporadic, but with both of your fathers being unpleasant men he was always tainted by his family reputation. You had helped sew razor blades into their peaked caps, had seen the fights in the school yard over petty childish things, and had wiped his knuckles clean when he beat Tim Green black and blue after he called you and Ada vile names. Back then it was exciting, the adrenaline making you fall onto him, enthralled by this beautiful man, feeling safer with him than you had ever felt before, but now you were wondering if you should be scared.

He would rather die than hit you. He had never called you anything other than sugary sweet pet names, never once raised a hand other than to caress your cheek, never in a million years did you think he would ever hurt you, not intentionally. But it pierced your heart like a bullet, walking down the street, watching those you once called friends hide in their houses, whisper his name like it was sour milk, spit at your feet once you had left. It never bothered you what those small minded people thought of you, but knowing the awful things they thought of your Tommy, that killed you. It felt like a knife in your ribs when you leant back against him and felt the unfamiliar weight of a gun tucked into the waistband of his expensive trousers, as if it was nothing more than the cigarettes he constantly carried. It clawed at your throat like a rabid dog, when he came home at midnight, covered in blood that wasn't his, his eyes grey and pale.

You wanted to be by his side throughout everything, holding his hand and being the woman that he had turned to for everything, but it felt like you were hidden in the shadows. He didn’t want you involved, wanting to rise up on his own merit, and give you all of the rewards without seeing the carnage he was leaving behind, but that wasn’t you. You weren’t some housewife who just tended to his wounds and looked the other way when he stuffed the local officers pockets with bribes, you wanted to be his equal.

It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you, it was that he didn’t trust anyone else.

Some nights you would sit staring at the moon from the windowsill of his small bedroom, reminiscing on making love under his scratchy sheets, giggling into his skin, thinking of days when you would tell him anything and everything, and he would always know what to say. You hated yourself for thinking this way, knowing that he had fought for his country, with the terrors he had lived through, of course he would be a changed man, but this seemed more than that and it tore your heart in half.

He’d slip into the room at midnight, any miseries of the day diminishing when he saw your small frame, and he’d wrap his arms around you, whispering into your hair. Any bad thoughts you had would vanish as he cradled you, reliving all the times you had in the past, feeling as if home was a person, but you would be jolt at his words. He’d tell you of all the things he would buy you one day, spun tales of all the things you deserved as if he could magic them from thin air. He spoke of a large manor, marrying you in a ceremony with a thousand roses, expensive cars and hand-cut jewels, things that were enough to make anyone salivate, but not you.

The war had forced you to put your life in perspective. Those gut wrenchingly long nights away from your lover, biting your lip raw wondering if he was suffering. Days spent feeling numb, trying to distract yourself from thoughts that plagued your head, you wanted to escape. Small Heath had suffocated you, the smoke and the ash now clung to your lungs thicker than ever, and you were desperate for a gasp of fresh air. You thought that was what Tommy wanted too, thought that the both of you would flee Birmingham, climb on to a ship, sail around countries neither of you could pronounce, kiss under hot rain and see the buildings you read about in the newspapers, but maybe not.

You would have to make sacrifices. That’s what love is, you told yourself, tying your hair up with an expensive silk hairband that Tommy had bought, that wasn’t really you. You loved him, adored him, you were so head over heels with him that the thought of leaving made you feel nauseous. You would follow him to the end of the earth if he asked you to. This was the man you wanted to marry, the only man you could picture yourself having a life with, and you knew that he felt exactly the same. That’s what love is, you remind yourself, staring at the unfamiliar painted face in the mirror, it’s about compromise, right?

When Arthur bought the Garrison, despite Tommy’s apprehension, you took a job as his accountant and secretary, helping him keep business afloat when all he wanted was to drink his money. You fell into a comfortable routine, waking up early and working late, taking extra time on Sundays to learn how to bake, going a little further into town to buy fresh vegetables from the market, reading books that had sat on their shelf for years. You wore a smile that could melt even the toughest of hearts, but deep down you were so mind numbingly bored, it felt like you had slipped on somebody else's skin, trapped in your own ivory tower. It all became worth it though, when Tommy would come home, his skin igniting against yours, lips savouring the taste of your flesh, the only good thing in both of your days. His hips pressed against yours, scratching your nails into his back and feeling him melt under you, enthralled by you, both of you so totally in love that it radiated around the small room, you knew why you did it. Curled under his arm he would smile and laugh, tell you snippets of his day, talk about the future, and hearing his words and charming accent, the way they fell from his lips like wisps of gold, running his hands through your hair, knowing that it was for a better future for both of you, you accepted your fate.

Ada noticed it first. Of course she did, you two were practically sisters. You knew each other like the back streets of Birmingham, like the lines and curves on your hands. She watched the way your vibrancy dimmed until you could fit in with the grey coloured photographs on Polly’s coffee table, listened as your giggles and playful teasing came to a halt and you spent more and more hours alone, separated from the world. She was heartbroken, torn between shaking you and forcing you to come to your senses, willing your vivacious personality to rise to the surface, and knowing that doing so could ruin the best thing Tommy had going for him, and shatter both of you into a million pieces. The rest of the family saw it as well, your light dulling with every day that passed, but they were unsure how to help without stepping over the protective line Tom drew around you, and with business tougher than ever, there was more than enough on their own plates.

To Tommy you were the most precious thing in his life. Because of you, his youth had been damn near perfect, meeting you had changed his life and he felt that he owed you the world. After the war you had rescued him from the depths of his own murky head, your letters and the image of you in his battered brain and been the only thing keeping him alive on he frontline. Whenever he felt like he was drowning, it had always been you that had pulled him from underwater, your smile putting the air back into his lungs. You made him feel alive, made him feel like in the world of smoke and debris he could breathe, that even on his lowest and darkest days, it was you that kept him going, but even he knew that was a lot for a person to carry.

You were wilting like a flower and he despised it. You had always been so beautiful. You could light up a room just by entering it, could trap men and enamour women with nothing but a look, could take his breath away with just a smile, but you were fading away. He had felt the darkness radiating off him since he returned home from the war, and he had fought tooth and nail to stop it corrupting you, you were too perfect, too pure, to be dragged down with him. He thought that he had kept you untainted, thought that he had done what was best for you, but now he wasn’t so sure.

He watched you when you weren’t looking, his eyes always finding your features no matter where you were. Whenever he was nervous or unsure he would find you and his breath would steady and his heartbeat would calm as if you were a shot of rum on his tongue. Almost a year after he had returned home did he start seeing you clearly, he had been so wrapped up in love, in coming home, in becoming the best man he could be, that he had clouded over you like fog on a winter morning. The glisten in your eyes had faded, they had dulled like a worn penny, and your collarbones and ribs began to rise from under your flesh. He tried to think of the last time he had made you laugh, a proper belly laugh like when you were kids, and he came up empty. He knew what the reason was but he refused to accept it, refused to admit that their might be cracks in your perfect relationship, because losing you just might break him.

He tried to be better for you, but he was too far gone. He could feel you slipping away from his fingertips and there was nothing he could do. You had tried to change for him and in the process you had lost part of yourself, and the war had carved a hole between both of you. It was heartbreaking and nauseating, both of you loving each other too much, but ultimately becoming different people. He refused to let you go without a fight, he knew he was being selfish and possessive but he couldn’t just let you leave, you had both been hopelessly in love since the very first day that you had met, you were soulmates. He chain-smoked you like a cigarette, took in your body like it was holy, craved your touch like it was medicinal, you were his everything. You were the reminder of the good days, looking at you and he was transported back to his youth, chasing you under apple trees, kissing until your lips were full and swollen, laughing until your ribs grew rough. You couldn’t imagine life without him, and every evening you clung onto his body, inhaling his sweat and tobacco covered skin, tracing his tattoos like they were bible verses, a million words lingering between you both. You were clinging on for dear life, knuckles glowing white as you refused to release your grip, desperate for everything to work out.

On a Friday, he let you go.

Curled up beside him, you felt otherworldly. He allowed himself moments of weakness around you, to everyone else he was the devil incarnate, but he softened whenever he touched you. He wanted these final moments to last forever, his girl wrapped up in his arms, the only bright light in his world of darkness. Tears were welling in his eyes, something so unfamiliar to him that he had to catch his breath, clear his throat before he could speak.

“I’ve not been good to you.”

Your head rose, resting on his strong chest as you peered at him, noticing how he refused to look at you.

“If I was a better man, a stronger man, I would have let you go sooner.”

“Tommy…”

“I’ve been selfish, little one. Too fucking selfish, and I see that now.”

You sat up further, already knowing his next words, your heart racing like one of his prize mares in your chest. You cling onto him, knuckles tensed as you feel him under you, willing him to look at you, but he can’t. He knows that if he sees your beautiful face, watches the tears slip down your cheeks and your lip quiver, he’ll crumble. That’ll be it, he’ll have broken, sweep you under him and try to piece you back together, but he knows this time he can’t.

You trace your fingertips over the hairs on his chest, the rhythmic motion helping to calm your rapid breathing. You feel like you’re in the firing line, on your knees, head bowed, just waiting for the final shot to blow your skull into pieces.

“I’ve never loved somebody the way I’ve loved you.” He coughs, rubbing his nose, and you’re not sure if its because it’s the tobacco in his lungs or the lump in his throat. “And know I’m realising that, what I’ve put you through, was wrong.”

“It wasn’t your fault, Tom, none of it. I’d do it all again if I could. In a heartbeat.” He knows you’re telling the truth, the honestly in your tone making his heart swell, but it doesn't make it any easier. He knows what he has to do, he has to be the bigger man, no matter how much it’ll wreck him, he has to do the best thing for you.

“I know you would, but that’s not the life you deserve.”

Silence falls across the room. Both of you bathed in smoke and ash and moonlight, memories flutter around you like torn photographs, drifting down onto the wood floor like snowflakes. The air is thick with tears that you both refuse to let slip, you had both known this time was coming since long before either had you had spoken the words. This was love. It tore you and ripped you in half, and neither of you had gone down without a fight. You loved one another so much that it had consumed you, swallowed you both whole and you wouldn’t change a thing. Despite the pain, it had been the best years of your life.

“I don’t think I know how to exist without you.” You confess, your lover such a part of you that it feels like you’re going to lose a limb, a terrible hollow feeling in the pit of your stomach.

“You will. You know I wouldn’t let you go if it wasn’t safe for you, you know I wouldn’t…I’ve got some money for you, to find a place to stay, somewhere far away from here, OK?”

“I’m not taking your money, Tom.”

“Yes you are.You’re not leaving unless I know you’ll be alright, eh?”

“No I’m not T, seriously -”

“Always so bloody stubborn!” He laughed, pinching your outer thigh playfully, a gesture so innocent and intimate and awfully familiar that it makes you both deflate with sadness.

You refuse to let the silence engulf you. Refuse to accept that this might be the last time either of you smell one another’s skin, the last time you can take comfort in one another, refuse to accept that forever might not mean what you thought. Refuse to accept that saying goodbye felt like the right thing.

“Tom. There’s no doubt in my mind that you’ll rule the world one day. But promise me something, promise me you won’t lose yourself? Promise me that you won’t do anything that you can’t come back from. For me?”

He nods, burying his face in your hair.

His exasperated laugh sounds like sparkling champagne, “I almost drove myself mad thinking of what I was gonna say to you, but I couldn’t find the right words. After everything we’ve been through though, we don’t need words do we, little one? I love you and you love me, that’s more than enough. No matter what happens, it’ll be us forever. Even if we’re apart. We don’t need words to say what we mean.”

Your lips met his, making him come alive just as you had done under the canal all those years ago.

“So let’s not talk.”

Tommy wished forever that he could burn the image of that final night behind his eyelids, see you whenever he closed his eyes. He dreamt that he tatted you on his skin, could trace your figure whenever things got too rough, that you would pull him back to shore. That final night felt like a dream, you both cried, sank into one another’s bodies, muffled one another tears with open mouthed kisses. Your beautiful gangster falling apart only for you, his darling angel clinging to just him in those final hours. Your bodies had intertwined for the last time, exhilarated with lust but exhausted from sadness, communicating through touches and kisses.

Tommy slept the best he had done for years. No dreams of shovels, no thoughts of the business racing through his skull. Instead he let himself get utterly wrapped up by you,falling into a satisfied sleep with his girl next to him. Woozy and delirious, when he first opened his eyes he forgot about everything that had happened, felt that unfamiliar emptiness in the bed beside him and thought that he’d find you nestled in an armchair drinking sweet tea, but nausea filled the pit of his stomach like acid when memories came flooding back.

It wasn’t until he saw the envelope he had filled with notes and coins for you, unopened on the desk, and your treasured photograph of the two of you from that very first beach visit, left on top, painted with a cherry red lipstick print and the words, “Goodbye, Tom. I love you.” Did he lose it. He flung the peaked cap off its hanger, let out an animalistic roar and shattered his fist through the wall, before falling to his knees and burying his head into his hands.

———————————————————————————————-

He had heard that you came back. Similar to a alley cat, you snuck in and out of the city under the cover of moonlight, only being seen by those you wanted. He had heard that when Ada fell pregnant, and she stayed locked away in Freddie’s basement flat, you were the only person she let in. Sometimes he would loiter on those back streets after work, hoping and dreaming for a glimpse of you, something to satisfy his hungry mind, but he never got so lucky. You kept in contact with the others, sending them letters and postcards, but they kept them hidden from him, and he pretended he didn't fantasise about ripping them open and devouring your words. Polly and Ada would speak of you sometimes, but would fall silent whenever he was nearby, and he would pretend he was unbothered, despite the want of knowing where you were clawing him inside out.

He threw himself into work harder than he had ever done before. He could feel himself slipping away, and without you to ground him he felt the darkness start to consume him, but he would never blame you, you were too good, and he would have ruined you. He dreamt of you every night, thought of you in every spare moment, so it was easier to be doused in another’s blood or making a dangerous deal than to be left alone to his own devices. Wondering if you had met someone new made him feel violently ill, it was like torture thinking of another man making you happy, another man touching you, making you smile. Almost every night he paid a visit to a whore house, fucking somebody else and dreaming it was you, he knew it was unhealthy, but he couldn’t stop. You lingered in his brain constantly like the smoke that left his sullen lips.

He became used the the thought of being alone. Enamoured with the idea of being on top; controlling and dominating the streets was all he cared about. You were always at the back of his mind, wherever he looked he saw you, thought of you, it drove him crazy, but then again you always had. He was in desperate need for a distraction, some form of happiness to grasp after you had left, he knew he had to move on, but he was uncertain he would ever find it again. He had to get used to the nauseating fact that you were gone, and then, like a ball of sunshine, the new blonde barmaid smiled at him and he felt his world lighten.

But now you were back.

————————————————————

He can’t remember walking towards you.

His feet and brain were disconnected, he had become an entirely different person than the calm, collected business man he usually was, his composure crumbling the moment he saw you. The second he saw a falter in your conversation, when you excused yourself from the enamoured, sleazy men around you, practically drooling as you stood before them, did he know he had to say something to you or risk regretting it for the rest of his life.

He apologised quickly to Grace, half heartedly and rushed, something he knew he’d have to explain later, but he couldn’t stop himself. He also didn’t miss the curl of Polly’s lip at the sight of her nephew infatuated with you, reminding her of the teenager she missed dearly.

Every move of his was calculated. From business to his personal life, he refused to let himself be ruled the same as the common man, everything he did was deliberate and precise, but even he’ll admit he was tongue tied as he pushed past the rest of the people in the ballroom, eager to reach his target.

You had stepped outside. Desperate for the relief of cool air against your flesh, the comfort of the stars above you and the solace of a must needed cigarette between your lips. Tommy couldn’t help the smile on his face, 5 years of separation pouring out of him as he exhaled at the sight of you, so close that he could reach out and graze your skin with his fingers. It was intoxicating, you were intoxicating, and he hated himself for still being enchanted with a woman he couldn’t have and shouldn’t want.

Movement behind you made you turn your head, dazed and hazy from the alcohol and the smoke filling your lungs, but you felt stone cold sober as your muddled mind placed the man before you. Air left your body like a pinched ballon, your chest expanding with surprise.

He’ll admit seeing you so flustered at the sight of him did wonders for his ego. Igniting the flame inside of his stomach that proved that you still thought of him, still cared for him. But just as quickly as you lost your cool, you regained it instantly, straightening up and letting a soft smile grace your features, and he felt himself melt.

You looked so familiar, yet different.

You were more tanned, freckles across the bridge of your nose, constellations he could remember tracing when he was a teen. Your hair was longer, tousled into a style he had never seen on you, but it looked right.

He could tell your dress was expensive, embroidered and embezzled with lace and crystals, a finely crafted necklace sliding off of your collar bone, and thoughts of gifts from admiring suitors sent him into a tailspin. He loathed himself for it, but his eyes narrowed to your left ring finger, audibly exhaling when it came up empty, and he didn’t know if he should feel relieved or ashamed.

A moment of silence and shared memories flashed between you quicker than the spark of a match. A warm familiar feeling brewed in the pit of your stomach, so gut wrenchingly nostalgic you feel as if you have been winded. Both of your senses are heightened, you can smell him, imagine the feel of his hair, despite it being almost shaved to his scalp, imagine the tattoos under his expensive suit, can practically recall your nails tracing them in a sleep induced haze. You had forgotten just how he made you feel, and the recognition makes you both halt.

He breaks the silence first; as if to prove to you his new status. He was no longer as boyish, as playful, he controlled the room, owned it, and the devil sitting on his shoulder wondered if that extended to you.

“Hello, (Y/N).”

“Hello, Tommy.”

He almost falls to pieces at the sound of his name on your sugar sweet lips, reminding him of the times before the war, the times he had locked away in his mind. You’ve turned a strong man weak, rendered him speechless and you grab the control as it slips from his fingertips.

“It’s been a long time, Tom.”

“That it has.”

“You’ve been away for quite some time.” He inhales sharply, determined to clasp the reins once again, determined to dismantle you and get a reaction, “Didn’t even see you at Freddie’s funeral, would have been nice of you to show up.”

The funeral was years ago but he still hates the fact that he hadn’t seen you that day, he was burying one of his best friends and yet you had clawed all over his mind like a virus. He even stayed after everyone had left, saying private words to his friend, and wondering if he could catch a glimpse of you, but that evening he walked home as alone as he came.

You raise a brow in challenge, your eyes glinting with a mix of disbelief and humour. “I stayed with our Ada for over a month when Freddie died, I was by her side through the thick of it. I didn’t come to the funeral out of respect, I didn’t want it to be about anything other than him.”

He swallows your words, nodding slowly. Letting the silence settle around him like smoke before he asks you his next question. “Where did you go?”

A small smile fell on your lips, and you looked up at him in a way that almost made him turn his head as it was too familiar, too painful.

“Anywhere and everywhere. Paris, Rome, Berlin. It was nice to see them rebuild after the war. I stayed in America for a year or so, Boston and New York, and then settled on the beach in California for a bit, it was beautiful.” He listens to every word that escapes your mouth, noting how happy you sound as you describe your travels, so breathless and elated as you reminisce.

“You did always love the sea.” He says gently.

“Yes,” you smile, “I do.”

“What brings you back? To a party like this?” He changes the subject, not wanting to linger in the past, fearful of what that might bring up in him.

“I’ve been in London with a friend, I owe him a favour and ended up here.”

Him. Three words that strike him in the gut and nearly make him double over. He can feel the heat rising in him, he’s married and it’s been years since he’s seen you, but the thought of you with another man makes vomit and red hot anger ascend inside of him.

“He’s just a friend, Tom.” You say slowly, offering him an olive branch, you shouldn’t have to explain yourself but you want to, because it’s just as hard for you. “He owns a distillery but he doesn’t do well at parties, so I offered to take his place.”

He laughs humourlessly, almost breathless from disbelief at the sheer incredulity of it all. “Solomons? Of fucking course.”

“You know of him?” You ask, tilting your head slightly.

“You could say that.”

“Well,” You grin, “Looks as if we have something in common.”

The knowledge that you were mere miles away, laughing with Solomon’s, head thrown back as you made time for a man that wasn’t him, drove the nail further into Tommy’s own coffin.

“So your dress? Your jewels? Presents from him?” It comes out harsher than he intended but he doesn’t care, the sight of you has made him as inebriated as a dozen shots of whisky on an empty stomach and he allows it to distort his words.

“I make my own money, Tommy.” You respond.

He steps closer, the toe of his expensive leather shoe inching towards you like a high tide.

“Do you ever think about me?” The words escape him before he has a chance to stop them, and he sees emotion pool in your eyes, and he watches a breath escape your lips.

“Everyday.”

He isn’t sure what to say, suddenly feeling 15 again, if anyone saw him now they would be in utter disbelief that he was the same ruthless gangster they knew. He is within reach now, you could extend your fingers and feel him under you like you had once done a million times before, you wonder just how different his lush suit would feel compared to the ones he had run around in when he was a teen. His eyes scour your face, drinking you in like water, comparing your face to the last time he had seen you. Neither of you let your eyes meet one another, darting away like rivals, and yours slip over his head back into the crowd.

“Is that your wife?”

His head snaps up as if he has been doused in ice water, and he follows your gaze across the floor. He sees Grace, surrounded by other women, but her eyes trained on the two of you. He knows later he’ll have a conversation he isn’t ready for, knows he’ll have to explain feelings he’s kept hidden for years, but he turns on his heel, away from his wife and towards you.

“Yes.”

“She’s beautiful.”

“She’s not you.”

Silence. He loathes himself for his words but hates himself even more that he doesn’t regret them.

“Good. You deserve someone better.”

Your eyes finally meet.

His are stoic and unwavering, lacking the spark you loved but still the same ocean eyes you loved to drown in. Yours are filled with emotion, finally exposing yourself after so many years, you soften him to the touch as your eyes meet his, melting him like an icicle.

“I know what you’re thinking, Tom.”

“You always have.”

You smile softly. “I almost came back you know.”

His ears prick up like a bloodhound, his heart bursting under his flesh.

“I heard rumours. People would whisper in the street about a devil, I knew exactly who they meant before they even spoke your name aloud.”

He inhales sharply, not knowing where the story will take him, desperate to regain control but ultimately knowing he’ll always be trailing after you.

“They said you were cunning and brilliant but they also said you were ruthless and cold blooded. They said you were a man on a mission, a man destined to get to the top, they told me they were scared of you. Terrified.”

He steps closer.

“I begged Ada to tell me everything, managed to get her drunk from expensive liquors, you know the ones she loves? The ones that taste like the sweets we would nick after school?”

He nods, the memory distant but familiar. The taste of sugar on your lips, teeth clashing together, giggles that sounded like bells.

“She told me the darkness came back, took you away. She said she was worried for you, she told me she didn’t want to lose her brother, not again. I was going to come back, but I was a coward.” Your voice falters, and he wants nothing more than to cradle you in his arms but he knows he can’t and instead watches the rise and fall of your chest. “I was worried that if I came back you would get worse, I’m not good for you Tom. You know that.”

“You’ve always been good for me.”

“You say that cause you love me,” You tease, “But we’re not kids anymore, Tommy.”

He looks at you, older now, taller. He can remember the colour of your hair from the sun, the grass that stained your knees, the way you felt under him. He can remember everything. If you aren’t good for each other, why is he still under your spell?

He can see the way your face contorts, passion evident on your features.“She told me you met a woman, fell in love and got married. I was mad with jealousy at first, like a bloody woman possessed.”

He hates the way your admission makes him feel smug.

“But Ada, she told me she was good for you. She told me how she makes the shovels stop Tom, she makes you a better man. I knew in that moment that you deserved her, and she deserved you. You deserve to be happy, because you’re a good man, Tom.”

You walk towards him, luring him to you like a ship to the shore. He responds immediately, so close that he can feel the warmth of your body, smell the wildflowers that linger on your neck.

“I asked for a sign that night,” you say softly, “a sign that you would be alright.”

“A sign?” He asks almost playfully, just enough teasing in his tone to remind both of you that maybe he isn’t too far gone.

“Yes, a sign, and I got one.”

You tear your eyes from him, down to your diamond encrusted purse in your hands. You open the clasp, and rummage around, slipping out a piece of paper no bigger than your palm. You rest it against your fingertips before holding it out to him, and he slowly takes it, not missing the sparks he feels as your hands touch.

He turns it over, and let’s out a genuine laugh, one that shocks you both.

It’s a newspaper clipping, from one year ago, the black and white print almost seeming harsh under the light of the moon. He traces the picture with the pads of his fingers, smiling more this evening than he can ever remember.

He clears his throat and reads softly, “Tommy Shelby’s mare “Little One” comes first place at national derby.”

Your eyes connect once again, the corners of your mouth upturned. “Little One.” You repeat, “She was my sign.”

He nods, looking down at the picture of the thoroughbred he loved dearly. “She’s the most beautiful horse I’ve ever seen, but she’s stubborn as all hell, can be aggressive too.”

“She sounds lovely.”

“Oh, that she is.”

You tentatively place one hand onto his chest, as if you are taming a wild animal. He responds to your touch like he’s been craving it his entire life.

“I should go, Tom.”

He doesn’t know what to say, or do, something so rare for a man always one step ahead. All he can think of is to cling to you like a child, wanting to savour the moment for as long as he can.

“I don’t want to lose you, not again.” He admits, his tough facade shattering like glass.

“You let me go once before Tom, you can do it again.”

He holds you against his chest, not bothering to wonder who can see him in such a fragile state. A lifetime of memories flutters between you like pages of a book. Everything unwinding in your mind, tears pricking at the back of your eyes. You feel like a teenager again, can smell him beside you, feeling as if you are curled up back in his single bed, running your fingers through his hair.

“You’re going to go back to your wife, Tom. Your beautiful, kind wife. The wife who is good for you, and you’re going to go and be happy.”

He thinks of it all, the money and the mansion. The power, the gold and jewels and paintings that lather every wall in his house, he thinks of everything he has, and wonders how any of it compares to you.

You place one palm against the side of his cheek, pulling him into you and you shake your head as if you can read his mind. You plant a soft kiss against his skin, it scorches into him like a branding, like rubbing salt on a fresh wound. He exhales shakily, watching as you step away from him, forever beautiful and young and enchanting, slipping back into the teenager he chased around sunflower fields and danced with under the stars. Back then his hands were freckled and tanned, now they are covered in blood.

“Goodbye, Tommy.”

“Goodbye, Little One.”

He swears he only turns away for a second, to locate Grace, to try and think of any explanation for his erratic behaviour this evening, to not let you see the emotion flooding over his face like a tsunami, and when he turns back around, maybe to stop you, or maybe to get one final look before you go, you’re already gone.

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