#so like when i read the fic my brain thought HEY THESE ARE TWO UNHEALTHY OBSESSIONS OF THIS FUCKING SICKO THAT SHOULD ALIGN RIGHT? BOOM.

[hannibalismos-jaaneman]

i read a hannigram fic last night where op decided it was an okay thing to mention vatsyayana and my brain chemistry is fucked now.

#raj shitposting #afghdaklkjfdakjfgaskjgf #so for context i read the kamasutra as a joke earlier last month and istg i was not expecting what i read. #bro- listen i thought it'd be about heterosexual sex only but it's really not specified IN SO MANY PLACES IT MAKES ME WANNA YELL. #there's this entire section in the text about scents. now idk how many of y'all know seema anand but you should def check out her tedtalk. #because she kinda boils it down to the very basics with the best examples for all of those who do not want their brain chemistry altered. #and that was what got me into her stuff and i read the arts of seduction a couple years back but i wasn't unhinged back then- #-so i forgot all about it until like a month or so back when i came across a video of hers on yt and damn those floodgates BROKE man. #which lead to me finally putting my foot down and reading that shit and JESUS FUCKING CHRIST- #so back to where we were. there's this entire section about scents alright? and we all know where this is going so bear with me please. #so this section talks about how different scents stimulate excitement and how different parts of the body should be scented. #like seema anand does NOT warn you about how fucking DETAILED this shit is in the original text. AT ALL. #it's got i think somewhere around 600 different scents and the optimum intensity of the scents for like IDK TURNING INTO A MONSTER. #so like when i read the fic my brain thought HEY THESE ARE TWO UNHEALTHY OBSESSIONS OF THIS FUCKING SICKO THAT SHOULD ALIGN RIGHT? BOOM. #and i imagined post fall will experimenting with scents for fun and shit because why not who's to stop him at this point in his life? #and then my brain flashed me a very vivid image of hannibal BURYING his face into will's waist to smell the perfume he put there- #and then my brain short circuited because that is too powerful an image for a mortal brain to comprehend. #i don't think anyone will understand what the fuck it is that i'm on about but y'all should watch that ted talk. #and get ahold of the nearest fic writer you know and force them to write a fic on this BECAUSE THIS IS THE PROMPT THEY'VE BEEN WAITING FOR. #this is actual psychosexual bullshit and istg i've had SO MANY vivid dreams ABOUT SCENTS ALONE it's making me lose my fucking mind. #GAAAAAAAAAAAAH #hannigram #hannibal

[ichijager13]

Teach Me How To Be Loved

Chapter XIV

I've got a burning desire for you

Pairing : Eren Jäger x reader, past relationships: Reiner Braun x reader, Jean kristein x reader

Characters: Eren Jäger, Annie Leonhart, Pieck Finger, Reiner Braun, Jean Kristein, Carla Jäger, Sophie Jäger.

Tags: Unhealthy coping mechanism, unhealthy relationships, childhood trauma, physical and verbal abuse, self-esteem and trust issues, domestic violence, implied/ referenced cheating, and a touch of sweet, lovable, and non fuckboy Eren Jäger

This fic is brought to you by Lana Del Rey’s songs

Masterlist, AO3,  Playlists: Reader’s POV, Eren’s POV

A/N: Hey, hey, heeeeeey! Guess who have decided to pick up her fanfic and update it. Yes, this lazy Ichi! I'm really sorry for taking so long to update, I didn't abandon this story, I promise.

Also thank you so much for reading and supporting my works.

Ichi  ❤️  

“Eren,” you moaned, wrapping your arms around his figure. Just like every time you had him this close, you were on the verge of losing your mind. His scent, his teeth grazing your shoulder, and his warm breath fanning against your skin felt ethereal. It felt like a dream. One, you didn’t want for it to end.

In response to the sultry noises escaping you, he brushed his lips against your pulse point, making the last threads of sanity grow thinner and more tense before they slowly vanished in the air.

Laying on your couch in the middle of your dimly lit living room, you tried to trace back the events of this night. You tried, without success, to figure out how innocent tickling led to him half naked and hovering over your nude body.

Swimming in an endless sea of joy and sensuality, you tried to capture and memorize this moment. The faint ticking of the mechanical, vintage clock sitting on the fireplace, the aroma of your fabric softener, and his heart rate. You were mindlessly indulging in your fantasies when his rich voice brought you back to present time.

“Are you ready, love?” he inquired once again.

His large hand caressed your cheeks ever so gently as you nodded. It took you a while to manage to utter a broken yes.

A genuine smile, the same one that captured your heart and bewitched your soul, broke through his lips as he kicked out his shorts and repositioned himself above you. He slowly guided himself past your wet folds. It stretched, burned, and filled you, and it never failed to make you feel complete. His thumb still traced gentle cercles against your burning cheeks as he praised you and chanted how perfect you were for him. how beautiful, dazzling, and amazing you were.

By the time he was fully inside you, your brain was so fogged that the line separating reality from fantasies blended, making it hard to tell what was real and what wasn’t. His hands were all over your body. His lips were littering soft kisses against your burning skin, reminding you that he wasn’t a product of your imagination. Reminding you that this was real. That what was going on between the two of you was real.

And you believed him. You believed and held on to all the unspoken promises he sealed against your skin.

So, you let your head fall back, eyes screwed shut, and gave in to the pleasure waves idly hitting you. You closed your eyes and let them drift you away from all the terrible thoughts that had haunted you for years. You let him trade the darkness devouring you with beams of sunlight and the twinkles of a million stars.

Eren couldn’t get over how dazzling you looked underneath him. With each thrust, the noises that spilled from your mouth pushed him over the edge. He tried to contain himself and take it easy on you. But your parted, swollen lips made it so hard for him to control the violent hurricane of feelings he was trapped in. And you asking him, in your high-pitched, broken voice, to go faster made thinking straight even harder.

His arms looping around your waist and pressing your writhing body against his gave you a sense of safety. You had no idea why, but whenever you found yourself in his arms, all your worries washed away, and the dark clouds invading your sky disappeared. Whenever he was around, all the sad melodies you spent your life listening to changed into happy ones. Smiling, you made a mental note to share this thought with him. to tell him about all the wonderful things he made you feel. to thank him for loving and accepting you as you were. But the unholy rhythm he was pounding on you made your thoughts dissolve like a spoonful of salt in a bottle of water.

Lost in the blissful mist of the building up pleasure, you didn’t realize that he had changed position until he hit that sweet spot that made you see the stars in the middle of your apartment. That particular angle that never failed to make your soul get lost forever in the abyss of your orgasm.

He continued moving in synch with your heartbeat and your lust-filled thoughts. With every buck and every groan, he was bringing dead parts of you back to life. Parts you completely forgot they ever existed.

By the time he collapsed next to you, your ability to think or form a coherent sentence was inexistent. Craving more of his soothing warmth, you instinctively nestled your face in the crook of his neck. A pair of strong, tattooed arms looped around your shaking body, and it felt like home. With the tip of your finger, you absent-mindedly traced the one climbing up his arm and covering his shoulder blade. Caressing his tattoos was one of the numerous habits you developed after you got together.

You remained like that, in each other’s arms, enjoying the comfortable silence until you fell asleep.

When the sunlight filtering through the beige curtains woke you up the next morning, you found yourself tucked under the soft, satin sheets in your bed.

Eren was nowhere to be seen. Sitting with your back pressed against the headboard, you perked your ears, trying to locate where your boyfriend was. But to your surprise, the apartment was as silent as the city streets on a snowy Sunday morning.

After you left your bed, you fished for a t-shirt and exited your bedroom. Your clothes and his, which were scattered all over the living room, were gone. Assuming it was Eren who picked them up, you put some order in the living room before heading to the bathroom to take a quick shower.

You were in the kitchen making breakfast when you heard the door.

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #eren yeager #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager fanfiction #eren yeager x reader #eren fluff #eren x you #eren smut #eren jeager fluff #snk eren #aot eren #attack on titan eren #eren aot #eren jeager #eren jeager smut #eren jeager x reader #eren jeager x reader fluff #eren thirst #eren yaegar #eren yeager smut #aot #snk #reiner braun x reader #reiner x reader #jean x reader #jean kirstein #eren x reader smut #eren x y/n

[leossmoonn]

No Weakness [Spencer Reid]

masterlist 

pairing - spencer reid x gn!reader

type - fluff, lil angst 

request / note -  “where the reader is new to BAU and they see dead body first time, and it kinda bothers them. and spencer noticed it, even when the reader tries they best no show it (bc they’re scared it makes the look like they’re weak) so when they’re just two of them spencer tries to make them feel better and tells them its okay and it does not make them weak.” this was so fun to write, ahhh! thank you @avrilstaro for requesting <3 *not edited lol oops*

summary - you’re embarrassed after freaking out from seeing a dead body, but spencer assures you that it’s okay

warnings / includes - descriptions of mutilated body, small description of case (child kidnapper case for this fic), crying, anxiety, nausea, little fighting, food mention. you and spencer are dating in this  

———— 

*gif isn’t mine*

“I can’t believe I didn’t get to sleep in,” you mumbled, throwing your purse down on your desk rather roughly. 

“Not like you would’ve anyways. Ariel was meowing for you five minutes before we got called in,” Spencer stated. 

“So? I would’ve fallen back asleep after,” you shrugged. “You would’ve stayed up all morning playing with her, babe,” Spencer chuckled. 

You rolled your eyes. “You don’t know that.” 

“I do! You’ve done it every morning since we got her,” Spencer argued. 

You scoffed, shaking your head at your boyfriend. You trudged over to the coffee machine, getting out a mug the size of a bowl and filling it to the brim. It was already your third cup of the day, and while it was probably unhealthy drinking that much coffee, you needed it. It was your first week on the job and you still weren’t used to waking up at five in the morning for a surprise case. This was your second case, though, so you weren’t very surprised that you were still tired. You knew you would get used to it as time went on, but you wished that your body and mind would adapt faster. 

“You’re coming on the field today.” Emily nudged your arm with a file. 

Your eyes widened and you sputtered out coffee, coughing to try and clear your throat. Emily chuckled, patting your back gently to help you. You set your coffee down, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand once you got control of your breathing.  

“W-What?” You asked, the words Emily said not processing in your brain. 

“I said you’re coming onto the field today,” she repeated. 

“B-But…” your trailed off, trying to find a reasonable explanation. “I-I wasn't supposed to be on the field for another week. I’m still technically in training.” 

“Well, part of the training is going on the field. You’re an amazing agent in the office, L/n, but you'd be even better on the field. You’re able to sympathise with the unsubs and solve the puzzles faster than most of us can, sometimes faster than your boyfriend. You’ll help us a lot better out there than in here.” 

You chuckled nervously, heat crawling up the back of your neck. “Thanks, Emily, but I’m not ready.” 

Emily rolled her eyes. “That’s what all the new agents say. You need to just get out there, and there’s no better time to do that then early in the game.”

“I guess,” you muttered, lifting your coffee cup and taking a sip. 

“You’ll be fine, Y/n. I have no doubts,” Emily smiled. 

“Thanks.” You have her a small smile. “No problem. And hey, don’t tell Spencer I said you’re better at the job than him,” she winked. 

You laughed and nodded, “I won’t, I promise.” 

She walked away, leaving you to lean against the counter and to drink the rest of your coffee before going to the briefing room. 

“So, I heard that Newbie is finally coming along with us today!” Luke exclaimed. 

“Newbie is your nickname, Newbie,” Penelope narrowed her eyes at Luke. Luke rolled his eyes, “Yeah, yeah. Anyways, you excited?”

You sat down in one of the chairs between to Luke and Matt. “Not really, if I”m being honest.” 

“Oh, why? You’ll be great!” Matt smiled. “So everyone says,” you sighed. 

“Hey, I heard you’re coming with us today. Can’t wait to have you on the field.” Spencer smiled as he walked past you. 

“Yeah, I’m excited to outsmart you, too,” you smirked. 

“Oh, Reid, looks like you have some competition!” Luke teased. 

Spencer shook his head and looked at you through his lashes. You gave him a challenging look, leaning on the table. 

“May the best agent win, Reid,” you dared. 

“Alright,” he shrugged. “Better have no weaknesses, L/n.” 

“Oh, I have none,” you smirked. Spencer replied to you with a hum, giving you an excited smile before paying attention to the case.  

Penelope and Emily delivered the case to you six, then leaving you all to pack up your things as you were going on the jet. You got out the small duffle bag of clothes you had in your car for traveling on cases, also grabbing your phone charger and the case files. You walked up onto the jet, placing your bags up over the overhead storage area. You got seated across from Tara and next to Spencer. 

You all talked about your plans to catch the unsub and where you all were assigned to. Tara, you, and Spencer were going to go to the crime scene to scope out the area. Emily and JJ would stay at the police station and work there, while Matt and Luke did witness and suspect interviews. 

You were sitting back in your chair, looking out the window and admiring the sky as the jet flew through the clouds. You still had an hour before you landed. Everyone was either sleeping or listening to music. You had thought about going back to sleep, but it seems as though the three cups of coffee you had finally kicked in.  

You regretted drinking so much coffee because now, your heart was racing and your hands were shaking. You weren’t sure if it was totally because of the caffeine or that you were nervous about being on the field for the first time, but you assumed it was a little bit of both. 

Spencer, who was seated next to you, noticed your jitteriness. He closed his book softly, setting it down on the floor next to his seat, turning to you and taking your hands in his. 

Your head snapped to him quickly, your eyes landing on his. He gave you a soft smile, beginning to rub his thumb over your knuckles. 

“You’ll do great out there, alright?” He assured. 

You sighed, turning away from the window and to him. “What if the lead I find doesn’t work? What if I can’t figure out where the unsub has the kids? O-Or what if I embarrass myself in front of the police chief?”

Spencer chuckled softly at your concerns, making you frown. 

“Don’t laugh! Hey, I bet you had all these concerns when you first joined.” 

“I did,” he admitted. “But, I learned that I worked with a team. It’s not just me doing the work, just like it’s not just you. You have seven people working with you on this. Try and relax, baby, alright? You do amazing work at the office. This won’t be any different.” 

You scoffed, “Please. It’s like, a million times different.” 

“Just try and relax,” he instructed, putting your hand up to his lips. 

You smiled widely, your heart fluttering as he kissed your hand. 

“Plus, even if it was just you working the case, I have no doubt you would figure it out quickly.” 

“Thanks, babe,” you smiled and leaned your head against the headrest. 

“Of course. I love you,” he said, leaning in and pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. 

“Oh, gross. You guys know I just became newly single,” Tara scoffed. 

You laughed and turned to her. “That was like, nine months ago.” 

Tara raised her brows, looking at Matt and Spencer, and back at you. “You weren’t even here back then. How do you know this?” 

“I just know things,” you winked. “Yeah, well I’m betting someone blabbed,” Tara grumbled. 

“We would never,” Matt disagreed. “Mhm,” Tara hummed, going back onto her phone. 

You smiled at you teammates and looked back at Spencer and putting your head on his shoulder. You closed your eyes for a few moments, opening your eyes again. You blinked rapidly, yawning and rubbing the sleep out of your eyes. You rolled your head around, your eyes settling onto Spencer who was back to reading his book. You turned your head back to the window, furrowing your brows as you noticed you weren’t up in the sky anymore. 

“Oh, good. You’re up,” Spencer spoke, putting his book away. 

“Are we here already?” You asked, your voice croaky and hoarse. 

“Yep,” he nodded. “We landed about ten minutes ago.” 

“Oh,” you frowned, sitting up and getting out of your seat. You stretched your limbs, yawning once more as you held your hand up above your head. “Why didn’t you wake me up?” You sighed. 

“You’re just so peaceful when you sleep. I couldn’t,” he explained. 

You smiled and went to get your luggage. “Thanks, Spence. But everyone is probably waiting for me now.” 

“No, it’s alright. We can’t go and see the crime scene yet anyways.” 

“How come?” You asked. “Not prepped for us,” Spencer answered. 

“Since when does a crime scene need to be prepped for the FBI?” You snorted. 

“You’d be surprised,” Spencer let out a breathy chuckle. 

You put your duffle bag over your shoulders and handing Spencer his, holding your hand out for Spencer to take. “Join me down the stairs?” 

“Of course,” he grinned, standing up and taking your hand into his and his bag.

You two walked off the jet, going over to the SUV. Spencer drove you two to the hotel where you dropped off your things, immediately going to the police station. 

“ ‘Bout time!” Matt exclaimed, seeing you two walking through the doors. 

You chuckled, “Sorry. Looks like the coffee wore off and I finally crashed.” 

“It’s alright. I think the scene is ready for you guys to look at now,” he said. 

“Great,” you smiled. 

You and Spencer found Tara, going into the SUV once again, driving to the house where the parents were killed and children taken. 

“Wow, I’ve never seen this much yellow tape in my life,” you chuckled. “Yeah. It’s definitely not an eye sore,” Tara chortled, stepping over the caution tape. 

You and Spencer followed her, going up to the police offers that were talking at the front door. 

“Hi, we’re FBI agent with the BAU. I’m Doctor Tara Lewis, this is Doctor Spencer Reid, and Agent Y/n L/n,” Tara introduced you all. 

You smiled and shook the two officer’s hand. “Nice to meet you two.” 

“Likewise. I’m Officer Santiago and this is Officer Reynolds. The parents were killed in two different places. The father in the bedroom, mother in the oldest child’s room.” 

“Lovely. Can’t wait to see,” Tara smiled sarcastically. 

“Oh, I bet. Go ahead and go in, let us know if you find anything, please,” Reynolds said. 

You nodded and stepped into the house, cringing at the heavy smell of bleach. 

“God. It’s like a hospital in here, but twenty times worse!” You held your nose. “I should’ve told Emily I needed to stay back with Penelope.” 

“Oh, this is nothing,” Spencer smirked. “Wait until you see where they all got killed.” 

“Ew, Spence!” You shrieked. “You’re supposed to protect me from all that.” 

He chuckled, “All part of the job, baby.” 

You nodded and sighed, knowing that he was right. As always. You three walked up the stairs, looking at where the father was killed. There was an enormous amount of blood of the bedsheets and some on the corner of the right nightstand, some splatters that were below on the floor. 

“So,” you started. “We’re looking at a team, right? I mean, there’s no way that the unsub could kill the father without the mom noticing.” 

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking’,” Tara nodded. “Well, I could be possible,” Spencer contradicted.

You and Tara looked at each other, confused. 

“Yeah, how?” You asked.

 “Well,” Spencer said, walking over to the bed. “The unsub could’ve choked or suffocated the father in his sleep. I mean, there were ligature marks around his neck, right?” 

“True. And the mom was saying goodnight to her children, so she obviously didn’t see her husband get killed,” Tara added on. 

You furrowed your brows, stepped out of the parents’s bedroom, going to the child’s. 

“Yeah, but, what about the kid? I mean, wouldn’t it have screamed and fought and ran out of the house?” You asked. 

Tara looked to you, eyes widening in surprise. “Yeah, that is a good thought. So… unsub number one is killing the father while unsub number two is kidnapping the mom slash killing the child…” 

“No, that wouldn't work. Maybe it’s a group of three?” Spencer suggested. 

“Maybe,” Tara shrugged. 

You stepped into the child’s bedroom, scrunching your nose as a foul smell wafted under your nose. You walked around, covering your nose with your sleeve. You saw the blood on the bedsheets and nightstand table. 

“Looks like the unsubs all have the same MO’s,” you muttered. 

You opened the closet, seeing nothing but toys, clothes, and shoes. You closed the doors, looking around the walls, your heart sinking as you saw all the finger pantings and pictures of family and friends. You walked up to the wall, losing your balance as you tripped on a a long, soft object. 

You let out a yelp, falling on your shoulder. You groaned in pain, turning on your back while holding your injured side. You looked around for the object you tripped on, frowning as you couldn’t find it. Something pale caught the corner of your eyes. You raised your brow, getting up on your knees and moving closer. 

“What the —” You muttered, your voice getting caught in your throat as you realised it was an arm sticking out under the bed. “Oh, my —” You gasped, peering under the bed, seeing the dead body of one of the children. “Oh, my God!” You shouted, scooting back, your back hitting the wall as you stared at the lifeless body. Tears welled up in your eyes and you put your hand to your mouth, loud and broken sobs escaping your throat. 

The boy couldn’t have been more than a few days old, yet it was still lying there. You could see the lifelessness in his eyes, and still the fear. There was a slit across his throat and cheek, his upper chest red with with green and purple bruises. You felt nauseas and cold, your heart sinking all the way down past your stomach. Your body was shaking and you couldn’t tear your eyes off of the body, no matter how hard you tried. 

You heard the footsteps of your colleagues, their voices calling your name. 

“Y/n, where are — O-Oh, my God.” Spencer’s eyes widened as he saw you crying on the floor. He immediately dropped down to his knees, taking you into his arms. “What happened.” 

You were unable to move, your eyes staring wide at the body. Spencer followed your gaze, his own heart dropping down to his chest. 

“Oh, man. Um,” Spencer said, looking away from the body and to you. His heart broke as he saw you so horrified. He put his hand on your cheek gently, turning your face so you were no longer looking at the body. “Let’s get you to out of here, alright?” 

You nodded slowly, your breaths becoming laboured as you tried to calm yourself down in Spencer’s arms. He got up, taking you with him. He walked you out of the room, coming face-to-face with Tara. 

“What happened?” Tara gasped. 

“Looks like the unsubs left the older boy. Tell the police officers, I need to get Y/n out of here,” Spencer said. 

Tara looked at you, nodding without hesitation. She let you two go, Spencer walking you down the stairs slowly. You exited the house, still taking heavy breathes as the image of the boy haunted your thoughts. Spencer gently got you seated into the car, buckling you in. He went to the driver’s seat, getting in and starting to drive. 

You two sat in the silence for thirty minutes while Spencer drove around. You looked at the window the whole time, your eyes glossy and strained from crying and keeping them open. Whenever you closed your eyes, even to just blink, flashes of the dead boy raced through your mind. Spencer waited patiently for you to speak, understanding how shocked and horrified you were. 

He parked in a Burger King parking lot, sighing and looking at you. He gingerly put his hand on your shoulder, only for you to shrug him away. 

“Y/n,” he sighed. 

“No,” you grumbled. “Take me back.” 

“I think it would be smart if you took the day off. Seeing a dead body, especially a child’s and one you had no idea exited, can really throw you off. The first time I saw a dead body…. Man, I-I was sick to my stomach. I—” 

“Shut up!” You exclaimed, waving your hands in the hair. You looked at him, your chest heaving up and down. Your brows were furrowed and mouth open, your eyes glaring at him.  “Just shut up, Spencer!” 

His mouth went agape, hurt flashing though his eyes. He didn’t let your outburst  dampen his spirits, though. He knew you were embarrassed and still horrified, and that you didn’t like to feel belittled. So he gave you a small, comforting smile, taking your hands into his. You didn’t move away this time, but you avoided any and all eye contact. 

“I know how you feel, babe,” he sympathised. “Yeah, I bet,” you muttered, your voice hoarse and dry. 

He frowned and unbuckled, leaning closer to you. He put his hand on your chin, turning your head with strength and force. You eventually met his eyes, his smile dropping as he saw tears rolling down your cheeks once again, your lips pulled into a pout. 

“Hey, it’s okay,” he assured, cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with his thumb. 

“N-No, it’s not,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “I-I’m so weak. I should’ve been ready. This is what I’ve been tra-trainging for and I suddenly turn into a freaking wuss? I-I… I… It’s so embarrassing!” You shoulders racked with sobs as you hung your head down to cry. 

“Oh, baby,” Spencer sighed, taking your head in both of his hands. He held your head up again, bringing his face close to yours. He put his forehead against yours, kissing the tip of your nose lightly. “It’s no embarrassing, alright? Your reaction was a perfectly normal reaction to seeing a dead child’s body. Honestly, if you didn’t cry and freak out, I would be worried,” he chuckled. 

You gave him a watery smile, laughing with him. “Y-Yeah, I s-suppose,” you sniffled. “B-But,” you started. “I-It makes me look weak. And I don’t want to look weak, Spence. A-All my life I’ve been told —” 

He smiled widely, leaning back so he could look you in the eyes. “You’re not weak, Y/n. You never could be, even if you tried. You’re just human, and that’s fine. It’s amazing, honestly. You know, I am so proud of you, babe.”

You frowned, “Why?”

“Because today was your first day out on the field, and you did fantastic. It can only get better from here.” 

“Y-You really think so?” You sniffed, wiping your nose with your sleeve. 

“I know so,” he nodded confidently. “And it’s okay to show weakness, Y/n. No weakness is the real weakness.” 

“Such wise words,” you laughed. He laughed with you and he shrugged. “I try.” 

You laid your head back on the headrest, looking a him through tired eyes. “Thanks, Spencer. It really means a lot.” 

He nodded with a smile. “Of course, honey. Now, why don’t you say we get something to eat, then go back to the precinct?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, “Sounds great.” 

He nodded and buckled himself back in, putting his hand on the gearshift and looking to you. 

“I’m proud of you, you know that?”

You smiled shyly, heat scorching your cheeks. “Yeah, I know. You’ve already told me.” 

“Just making sure you know, baby.” 

———— 

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[sevlgi]

how it feels

requested: no

group: stray kids

pairing: hyunjin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, slight angst

contents: high school!au but there’s not much school involved, best friend!hyunjin, mutual pining, hyunjin’s a hopeless romantic

warnings: none

synopsis: comforting your best friend after a breakup usually doesn’t involve making him fall in love with you, but both of you just want to know what it feels like.

a/n: yes hello please enjoy this fic that i’m randomly dropping in the middle of my hiatus 🙃 i’ll hopefully be able to write a gg fic of some kind for y’all soon! the ending of this is so fucking lazy, sorry

word count: 5.3k

“Why, Y/N? Can’t she just tell me why?”

“I know,” you comfort, rubbing your best friend’s back as he sniffles with his knees up to his chest. It’s hard to see him in the darkness that’s brought by the blanket resting over the both of you like a tent, but in the glow of Hyunjin’s phone, you can see the tear tracks on his face. “I’m sorry, Jinnie.”

He pouts and scrubs yet another tear off his cheek, lamenting, “Why can’t I never fall in love with someone who loves me back? We’re only in high school, it shouldn’t be this complicated.”

Dabbing at his face with a tissue, you sigh, “I guess you have bad luck. Or bad judgement, could be both. There are plenty of people who are dying to love and appreciate you, you know, you’re the one who never spares them a glance.”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “No, those people only think I’m the long-haired guy from the dance team. They would treat me the same,” he frowns tearily. “I just want someone who likes me first.”

It always goes this way for him, you know-- you’ve seen it too many times, the stages of your best friend falling in love with someone who leads him on, enjoys his company for a while before dumping him and his expectations in the dirt. Maybe it’s the undeniable pressure to be the perfect partner that Hyunjin wants more than anything, or maybe he just always ends up liking assholes. But either way, it’s carnage for Hyunjin’s heart, and he never gets used to it no matter how many  times it happens.

He’s too sensitive and warm-hearted for his own good, so all he can do after the latest breakup is cry into his favorite pillow on a Tuesday night. If you weren’t so willing to immediately come to comfort him, Hyunjin would’ve been doing it alone, too, and he would’ve cried for far longer than he has.

“Who do I go to prom with now?” he questions sadly, breaking you from your recollections about the many times you’ve done this before.

Unfortunately, all his question does is make you laugh. “It’s a serious question!” Hyunjin protests, scowling at you.

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say, still chuckling. “I mean, would it be so bad to go to prom with a friend? I’m sure Yeji- wait never mind, not Yeji… I’m sure someone would go with you for appearances’s sake. Or if you don’t mind, just ask Lix, he’s too nice to say no even if he wanted.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better,” he says, flopping back onto his bed. The clock by his bedside reads 2:33 am, and you can already feel your physics final cursing you. “I want to go with someone I feel something for, you know? It’s our prom, Y/N, I want to feel the prom-ness of promposals and picking out outfits and all that with someone I love.”

You shake your head and push his knee lightly. “Unfortunately, most people our age haven’t even been in love yet, so I doubt many people can help you feel it. But you know what I’m feeling right now?”

“Please don’t say pancakes,” Hyunjin groans, “I’m not waking my parents up to teach us how to use the stove again.”

Throwing a pillow at him, you roll your eyes, “I feel tired, dumbass. And we have finals tomorrow, so how about we invite our friends out to get boba afterwards so we can find you a prom date? You can complain all you like about how the three weeks before prom happens are too short to fall in love, yadda yadda.”

“Fine. But don’t mock me, my many feelings are perfectly valid,” your best friend warns you, and rolls over to turn the light off.

Seungmin frowns when Hyunjin finally shows up at the entrance of the school’s closest boba shop, looking slightly disheveled from dance practice. “Finally. You’re annoying, and late.”

“Jeongin’s later,” Hyunjin objects, plopping down in the spot next to you and accepting the drink you hold out to him. The amount of mango yogurt with boba he drinks is definitely unhealthy (and expensive), but he’ll only groan more about his breakup if you didn’t get it for him. “Why do you literally never complain about him?”

“Jeongin’s cute, and you aren’t.”

The long-haired boy scoffs and sips at his drink sulkily as Felix returns with his own order. “Oh, hey, Hyunjin. I didn’t see you arrive,” Felix smiles sunnily. “Jisung’s not coming today, by the way. Something about having to stay for detention.”

You raise your eyebrows at that new piece of information. “Really? For what?”

“Playing a song entitled ‘Fuck You Bitch’ in Bio, I believe.”

Seungmin snorts in laughter, sighing fondly, “Sounds like him. Anyway, I heard we’re here to solve the problem of Hwang Hyunjin’s prom date. Or… lack thereof?”

“You’re so mean,” your best friend groans. 

Ignoring him, you clasp your hands on the table and lean in conspiratorially. “I doubt any of you haven’t heard at this point, but he got dumped, for lack of a better word, and now, like the rest of us, Hyunjin has no prom date. But unlike us, he actually still wants one.”

“I’ll go with you,” Felix offers, still chewing on the straw in his mouth.

You elbow Hyunjin, who pushes you back before responding. “Thank you, Lixie, but like I explained to Y/N, I want to go with someone I’m in love with. I want to know how it feels, you know?”

“I don’t know,” Seungmin deadpans. At Hyunjin’s crestfallen expression, though, he says, “I mean, we can definitely try, but I feel like the rest of the people left in this school are either too young or not your type. And is 3 weeks really enough for you to be ‘in love again’?”

“Knowing me, maybe…? But I think I’d need to know the person already,” your best friend pouts.

Jeongin arrives then, conveniently missing most of the conversation before he squishes in on the end of the booth. “Well, you better not try to fall in love with me,” the youngest grins.

“I’d never pick you,” Hyunjin jabs back. “But out of the people I do know…”

“I volunteer,” you joke.

Your friends snicker, thankfully, but the boy sitting right next to you turns with a thoughtful expression on his face. “Actually…”

“I don’t like that expression,” Jeongin narrows his eyes.

“I think I could fall in love with Y/N in 3 weeks,” Hyunjin says nonchalantly, as if it’s nothing. He completely ignores all the shocked expressions around him.

In truth, as easy as Hyunjin falls in love, he’s also incredibly easy to fall for. You’d never admit it to him, but you have loved him before, with the kind of burning passion that he somehow has with every one of his relationships.

You’re over it, and you have been for a long time, but him saying that maybe he could love you so very easily makes it all come back up to the surface. “For real?” Felix questions.

“I mean, I don’t like you yet--” your heart falls (stupidly)-- “but I think I could.”

“So… what do you want me to do?” you ask.

Hyunjin smiles, so pure and beautiful that you wonder how his girlfriend just left him, and says, “I want you to help me figure out how it feels to really be in love.” He scrambles to interrupt Seungmin, whose mouth is opening. “It’s just three weeks before prom. We’ll just feel happy together, none of the other shit--”

“You are so cheesy,” Jeongin interjects. “And I think you’ve watched too many dramas. Did you pause to think how Y/N feels about your plan?”

You appreciate your younger friend’s considerateness, but the guilty expression on Hyunjin’s face prompts you to say, “I mean, I don’t think I could like you like that, so… sure. I’ll help you.”

“Really?” All three of your friends ask as they turn to you. 

“Yeah,” you shrug. “What, you fall in love with me in three weeks for prom, I don’t reciprocate, but we move on as friends? I think it’ll be fine.”

“It never works like that though,” Seungmin doubts. He isn’t as cynical as he seems, but in the presence of overly-optimistic Felix and Hyunjin, he and Jeongin always end up as the voice of reason. Usually, you’re with them, but this time, you’re the one enabling the idiocy of the new plan.

Hyunjin grins, “Then we’ll make it work like that.”

With the amount of time that passes before Hyunjin mentions his plot again, you almost forget about it. The first week is normal in a way that makes you nervous-- you hang out like normal, doing homework in the library with your friends as Minho harrasses Chan, eating lunch wherever you can find a spot. There isn’t really time to be alone, just the two of you, and you aren’t sure how Hyunjin is supposed to ‘fall in love’ with you if it’s just normal.

Of course, it doesn’t last long.

It takes a while for it to set in that when Hyunjin asks you to go watch a drive-through movie with him, it isn’t just so he can show off his brand-new car. It’s a date, and it’s stated painfully clearly in his text from the night before.

However, you don’t realize it until you’re literally getting into his car in front of your house.

“Wait. This is a date, isn’t it?”

Hyunjin chuckles nervously, looking over at you in the passenger seat, and you notice for the first time that he’s put on a bit of makeup, and his car doesn’t smell like Jisung’s hot cheetos for once. “I mean, yeah. I meant it when I said I wanted you to help, and I thought you did too? It doesn’t have to be one if you’re backing out, though, it’s totally fine.”

“I’m not backing out,” you shake your head. You really aren’t-- so far, nothing has happened that would make you want to back out yet, and no freshman-year feelings for your best friend have resurfaced just yet. “I just forgot. You know me.”

“Yeah, I know your goldfish brain,” Hyunjin teases, setting the car in motion. There’s lo-fi playing, and he’s a good driver, so you relax. “You forget everything.”

“I do not! You’re the one who has to be reminded of everyone’s birthday but mine,” you protest. If he wasn’t driving, you would shove him, and you remind him of that, to his dismay.

Hyunjin hums as soon as the two of you fall into comfortable silence, your foot tapping lightly to the music, and with the sun setting on the distant horizon, it’s so familiar. You try to interrupt the peace anyway. “So, what movie are we seeing?”

“10 Reasons I Hate You,” he answers. “It’s a classic, and you haven’t seen it.”

“And you love romcoms,” you finish.

He doesn’t protest, only sending you a small smile. You’re pulling into the theater already anyway, in one of the better rows to watch the movie as Hyunjin turns his radio on and starts fiddling with it. “There’s snacks in the backseat,” he offers, to no surprise.

They’re some of your favorites, though there are also the chips that he can’t live without. There’s a blanket, which drapes awkwardly over the cupholder between the two of you, and a bottle of juice that you place in his lap immediately. “You like watermelon juice more than I do.”

“Thanks,” he says quietly, almost surprised.

You scowl and poke him, allowed to now that you’re safely parked and waiting for the movie to begin. “Don’t act all shocked, we’ve been friends since orientation and I’ve spent more than half my paychecks getting this damn juice for you.”

“Mean,” Hyunjin protests, but he hands you your favorite soda from under his seat anyway. “And shut up, it’s starting.”

He seems to know the intro to the movie, smiling when the first line of dialogue sounds, all crackly over the shitty radio, and you eventually stop staring at him to watch the movie instead. Of course, you can’t keep yourself from asking, “Why do you like romcoms so much, anyway? You’ve never explained to me, for all the ones I’ve watched with you.”

“I like happy endings, I think,” the long-haired boy responds after a short pause to think. “Not to be dramatic, but I haven’t had one yet, so maybe watching other people being happy makes me happier too.”

You nod, taking it as a perfectly acceptable answer. Knowing how sentimental your best friend is, it’s nowhere near a stretch, either, being something that just fits with his personality.

He talks occasionally to tell you a little tidbit that he knows: by the end, you’ve learned about how it’s a modern adaptation of a rather misogynistic Shakespeare play, how the entire movie was shot without sets, and how the scene of Kat reading the poem was the first take. It’s interesting, of course, but you’re more captured by the way Hyunjin’s smile glints in the weak light filtered through the car windows.

The sky is dark when the credits roll and Hyunjin reaches for the steering wheel, almost too dark for you to see anything outside when you’re driving back to your house.

“So? How was it?”

“How was what?” you ask, moving your hands around vaguely. “The snacks? The movie? The date?”

“All of the above?” Hyunjin says hesitantly.

You answer immediately, “It was perfect. You knew that, though.”

“I didn’t really. I mean, I’ve never taken you on a date,” he muses. “And plenty of the people I’ve dated before weren’t even willing to watch a rom-com with me.”

“Then that’s their problem,” you say. “Anyone who isn’t willing to watch a rom-com with you is just an asshole, and I stand by that.”

Hyunjin smiles sweetly. You’re parked by the curb in front of your house at this point, so it’s slightly more easy to see the silhouette of your friend’s face. “That’s nice of you. I dunno though, I wouldn’t want to label everyone who doesn’t like romcoms as an asshole.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You shift a little bit to face him, pausing before you explain, “I think that if someone is so unwilling to try something that means so much to the person they like, then they don’t really like them.”

“I guess. You know, there’s another reason why I like romcoms so much.”

You don’t speak, waiting for Hyunjin to explain. And he does. “I think romcoms give me hope,” he nods. “Like… they make me think that anything’s possible, not just happy endings. Maybe the person who I don’t even have a chance with secretly likes me back, you know?”

“I can’t really imagine someone who wouldn’t like you if you liked them, but I think I get it,” you smile.

“At least you try. See you at school next week?”

“Come on, we both know that Binnie’s dragging all of us out to beat Chan’s ass at bowling,” you sigh, taking it as a sign to open your car door. 

Before you make it completely outside, though, Hyunjin’s hand rests on your wrist. “Y/N, thanks for tonight.”

“Anytime,” you respond breathlessly, closing the door a little louder than you probably should.

You do mean it.

“Remind me again why we have to go prom outfit shopping together?”

Hyunjin pouts, peering in the window of yet another shop. His arm rests gently on your shoulder despite the way you jokingly pushed it off at the beginning of the day, but you really don’t mind. “Isn’t it cute to have matching prom outfits? We should be color-coordinated in some way.”

“I mean, sure… but isn’t online shopping just easier?” you ask, raising your eyebrow. “It’s the 21st century, Jin.”

“You’re so unromantic,” he groans, and finally pushes the door open to a thrift store to lead you inside.

You wrinkle your nose at the heavy smell of perfume that hits you as soon as you step inside. “And you watch too many movies. You’ve known me for almost four years, you aren’t going to have some magical moment where you realize you like me just because I put on a sparkly outfit of some kind.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll suddenly think that you love me when you see me in a tux,” Hyunjin grins.

You don’t respond to that, and he doesn’t push it, taking it as just another joke of his. Of course he doesn’t know about freshman year, and he definitely doesn’t know about how you still aren’t sure if that crush ever subsided. He shouldn’t know. 

He’s too picky to pick something at the first store, you know, so you just follow him around as he flicks through things that are either too fitted or too loose, too patterned or too plain. 

It takes three stores for him to finally something that he likes, and he appears from the dressing room with a gorgeous grin on his face. “What do you think?”

“It’s… good. I mean, you look good,” you clarify. Of course Hyunjin looks perfect in anything, but the dark navy jacket over the patterned button-down he was already wearing just seem like they were a combo meant for him. 

He isn’t satisfied with your response, towering over you as you slump lower in the chair. “Just good?”

“Hot. Stunning, beautiful, sexy-- is that what you want to hear?” you respond sarcastically.

“That’s exactly it!”

Rolling your eyes, you pick up your things from the chair and say, “Then we’re done? Are you picking this one?”

“Yeah, but what about you?” Hyunjin asks. “Do you already have something, or are we going to get something? I’m still waiting for my kdrama moment, you know.”

You definitely don’t have something at home, but you don’t think you could bear being on the receiving end of the drama moment that your best friend so desperately wants. Something about having him suggest something for you to wear, reacting as dramatically as you know he will, just won’t allow your old feelings for him to sit still.

“I’m good. Let’s check out, and get some ice cream?” you offer to placate him.

Hyunjin grins and offers his arm to you again, practically skipping to the checkout. “Sounds perfect to me.”

“Y/N, what the hell do I wear on a date?”

“How should I know?” You sound listless, flicking through one of the mangas that one of Changbin’s friends left as his house.

“You literally went on a date with your freshman year crush last week and then picked a prom outfit with him,” your friend scowls, tossing a shirt at your face. It’s clean, thankfully, but you still chuck it back at him.

“In my defense, I forgot that it was a date,” you respond, “and shut up about the ‘freshman year crush’ thing. I never would’ve told you if I knew you would use it against me like this.”

Changbin throws yet another piece of clothing in your direction, narrowly missing your face, and you raise a pillow to threaten him with. “You got me into this mess with Felix in the first place, so I think it’s even.”

“It’s not a mess if it’s what you asked me to do,” you complain, “and besides, you wouldn’t stop talking about this date for the past week despite it literally just being something we do together all the time.”

“I like Felix, I don’t like you.”

“Then I’m leaving you to agonize over your collection of colorful track pants on your own,” you warn, and he subsequently shuts up. “There we go. Don’t wear one of those, by the way, even though Felix wouldn’t say a single thing about it.”

“How was the date, by the way? And the three-year-old feelings?” Changbin asks as he continues to dig in his closet.

You hesitate. “It was… nice? Hyunjin knows way too much about Julia Stiles, but he was super enthusiastic and the movie was pretty good. He got the good snacks, too.”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he sighs. 

“Then what did you mean, Mr. ‘I Love Lee Felix With My Whole Tiny Brain’?” you challenge.

Changbin doesn’t take the bait, unfortunately. “Jeongin told me about the whole plot you and Hyunjin have going on. Are you really dumb enough to think that you can get him to love you without falling for him again, and then leave him after it?”

There’s no way to respond to his question without making a complete fool out of yourself, and so, you simply don’t. Apparently in one of his more coherent moods, Changbin continues on, “I’d say that you watched too many movies, but I’ve seen you avoid Hyunjin’s movie nights. What the hell is going on with you?”

“I mean, have you seen the way he looks when he wants something?” you answer unintentionally. “Obviously you weren’t with us at the at the boba shop, but I’m serious. I couldn’t say no to him, especially when he’s heartbroken.”

“What does he look like?” Changbin asks.

You sigh, “He… his eyes get kind of shiny, almost like he’se about to cry but not really like that. And I don’t really know, he just looks like he’d be sad if you said no but wouldn’t talk about it, and that’s the part that makes you want to say ‘yes’.”

“It sounds to me like your three-year-long crush is still here, then,” your friend replies. “Because I have never felt that way about Hyunjin before, but I know what expression you’re talking about.”

Staring at him like he’s grown two heads, you realize that he’s wearing a jean jacket that shouldn’t have taken so much time to pick out. “That’s a stupid conclusion.”

Changbin shrugs and picks his phone up on his way out. “You can think about it as stupid if you want, but I’m usually not wrong about this. I’m going now, do you want a ride or something? You can stay here as long as you want, though.”

“I’ll walk home, it’s still noon,” you answer. You need to think, anyway.

He walks to the kitchen for a drink of water, he claims, but he picks up his phone on the way there, presumably to talk to Felix like the lovey-dovey fool he is. You wrinkle your noise and wander in the hallway, fully intending to bully Changbin about his crush as long as possible.

But his low voice, echoing from the kitchen, definitely doesn’t sound like flirting. When Changbin strides out, on a mission, it’s obvious that something is wrong. “We have to go,” he says. “Jeongin and Hyunjin got in an accident.”

Fear bubbles in your throat, and you yank the front door open harder than you could’ve thought possible. “What? How? When? Is it just the two of them? Are they okay?”

“Minho says that he doesn’t know yet, he’s driving there too. They aren’t calling the police, they’re apparently fine enough to get us,” Changbin says as he backs out of the driveway. “But we better get there as soon as we can.”

“Then drive,” you exhale sharply, slamming your seatbelt on as if it’ll stop your heart from beating out of your chest.

You leap out of the passenger’s side before the car even stops moving, finding Minho and Chan’s cars both parked at the side of the road behind the silver one that you remember to be Jeongin’s parents’. There’s a huddle of people there, Seungmin and Jisung parting so that you can make your way to the center.

To your relief, both your friends are okay; Hyunjin’s sitting on the trunk of the car, massaging his legs, and Jeongin’s definitely wincing a bit too much when he moves his neck. The car is dented, but not to the point of no repair.

Still, anger clouds your vision.

“What the hell’s wrong with the both of you?” you almost shout. “And what the fuck happened?”

Hyunjin starts, “Y/N, calm down. I was trying to teach Jeongin to drive, and we went a little off course--”

“Teaching him to drive, on the damn highway?” you question furiously. “You barely got your license three months ago, I get that you’re a good driver, but you aren’t a good enough driver for this! Whose idea was this?”

Jeongin timidly raises a hand, but Felix stops you from saying anything more. “Let’s all calm down, okay? Y/N, our friends are fine,” he says, low voice barely audible over the wind whipping around. “Everyone’s alive, which is the most important part here, and we can fix the car, which isn’t all that important. Let’s just focus on getting someone here to help, okay?”

“I’ve called my uncle to come and tow the car, we’re just going to get Hyunjin and Jeongin to the hospital, okay?” Seungmin reassures you. “Changbin’s car is too small, and you’re the better driver, so you and Hyunjin take it. Jeongin will come in Minho’s car with me, and we’ll meet you there.”

You nod stiffly and get into the driver’s seat first, pretending like you don’t notice how Chan pulls Hyunjin back to talk with him.

You shouldn’t have gotten angry; it doesn’t make sense to be angry at all. You should’ve been scared, worried, anything but angry, and so, you can only try to calm your breathing by the time Hyunjin sits next to you and Chan’s car sets off.

“Why are you so mad?” he asks quietly.

It’s the wrong thing to say; you turn your head to him, incredulous. “Why am I mad? You could have died, both of you could have died!”

“And? How many things have we all done together that could’ve ended with us in a ditch?” Hyunjin raises an eyebrow. “Hell, you were the one who decided that it would be fun to jump from the roof into Seungmin’s pool last summer, what’s changed? I get it, it was stupid, but you’ve never been so mad about something like this before.”

You exhale, tapping your fingers on Changbin’s steering wheel as you follow your friends’ cars. “To be honest, I don’t know.”

“Okay.”

It’s completely silent after that, at least until you reach the emergency room.

Jeongin and Hyunjin are fine, thankfully; the youngest has twisted a muscle in his neck, but it’s nothing that can’t heal on its own, and Hyunjin’s knees are merely bruised. Jisung’s the one who tells you, the older two of your friend group apparently dealing with the parents of the injured.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” he asks, patting your arm. “You reacted a little… adversely earlier. Did you and Hyunjin have a fight?”

“Why is it always about me and Hyunjin?” you ask with narrowed eyes. “Can’t I be mad because they almost got themselves killed?”

Jisung raises an eyebrow. “You never get mad when we almost get ourselves killed, that’s Chan’s job. And you were basically yelling straight at Hyunjin, I’ve never seen the guy so scared.”

You exhale and sit back in the creaky hospital chair. You wish you could tell Jisung if there was something wrong, but you honestly don’t know what it is. “I don’t know. Do you think there’s something wrong with me?”

“You tell me, dude,” Jisung chuckles. “I think you should think about it. I mean, there’s barely two weeks until prom now, you barely have time to back out anymore.”

“Why would I back out?” you stare at him.

He pushes you to stand, and only says, “Think about it yourself. Okay?”

You don’t tap out, but only because you don’t get Hyunjin alone enough to do so.

After your little yelling fest at him, he obviously doesn’t want to just talk to you, despite how you publicly apologize to both him and Jeongin. You don’t sit together during movie night, you sit at opposite corners of your study table in the library.

Until Felix’s parents invite all of you over to take prom pictures, all you get is a stilted silence.

“You look nice,” he mumbles when the two of you get ushered together in a pair. Except for Felix and Changbin, all the others are by themselves, and you wonder why Hyunjin was so hellbent to get himself a prom date when almost everyone else didn’t bother.

He himself looks absolutely perfect, his hair styled to perfection and a slight pink glittering on his lips. The suit that you picked out together is paired with a patterned shirt that you’ve never seen before, and it perfectly matches your own hastily-purchased outfit. Hyunjin offers a flower to you, color-coordinated, and you hold it in one hand with the other on his arm. “Thanks. You too.”

“Okay, smile, everyone!” Felix’s mom grins behind the camera. “Couples, stand closer together a little bit!”

With a (rather convenient) nudge from Minho, Hyunjin’s hand slips onto your waist, and heat rises to the tops of your ears. Felix’s mother is pleased, though, and the photos carry on with the occasional hoots of laughter when Jisung smacks a kiss onto Seungmin’s cheek and gets clocked as a result.

Conversation is never stilted when you’re with your friends, so despite the silence between Hyunjin and you, there’s no awkwardness during the ride there. Silence only falls when it’s just the two of you standing together in the corner of the venue, all the others off to dance or raid the buffet table.

You decide to speak first. “Are you pissed at me for yelling at you? Because I said I was sorry, and I am.”

“I’m not pissed at you,” Hyunjin shakes his head.

“Well, you’re sure acting like it,” you snap. With a sigh, you end up apologizing again, “Sorry. I just… I know that the plot was mostly a joke, just to take your mind off of the heartbreak and stuff. I kind of messed it up.”

“You messed it up?” He stares at you.

“Well, yeah… I yelled at you, didn’t I?”

Hyunjin sighs, almost like he expected a different answer. “No, that didn’t mess anything up. I mean, I got what I wanted, anyway.”

“And what was that?”

“I fell in love with you.”

It’s your turn to watch him, completely shellshocked. The sparkling, multicolored lights of the venue bounce off him like an otherworldly glow, and his eyes sparkle even though he’s avoiding your gaze. Maybe all the people falling at his feet, you included, are onto something. “I mean, it’s not exactly what I wanted,” he blabbers. “I wanted to be in love without it hurting, and obviously that failed, but… I should’ve known that it wouldn’t even take three weeks for me to love you.”

“Hyunjin.”

Your best friend still doesn’t look up, so you just ask softly, “Why does it hurt?”

“You don’t like me back, of course it hurts,” Hyunjin frowns. 

“Who said I didn’t like you back?”

He’s quiet, eyes flicking up to you like he thinks it’s Jisung pranking him or something. “Do you mean it?”

“We’re stupid, Hyunjin,” you laugh. “We’re so, so stupid. I had a crush on  you since we met, for two whole-ass years.”

“Well, I liked you for almost four, so I think I beat you there,” he says. But there’s a relieved smile on his face, his eyes curving prettily as he reaches for your hand. “Then… do you want to dance?”

“No romcom shenanigans,” you warn, but you allow yourself to be tugged out to the dance floor next to your friends with a smile.

Hyunjin’s grin as you twirl him around under the burning neon lights suddenly makes it seem like everything will just... magically be okay. If you had just been a little more courageous (or a little less stupid), maybe you could’ve seen it earlier.

But good things come with time and patience. And with all the patience you’ve had, waiting for this to happen, the way you finally feel with him makes it all worth it.

#stray kids #skz #stray kids hyunjin #skz hyunjin #hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #stray kids x reader #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #skz imagines #skz x reader #skz scenarios #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin imagines #hyunjin scenarios #stray kids reactions #skz reactions #skz x you #skz x y/n #stray kids x y/n

[awanderingdeal]

An unfair race

I finally finished this! This fic is kind of a follow on to Endless Nights. Note: That fic is rated M and contains some sexual content, but you do not need to read it for this to make sense. I wanted to combine Finn talking with Heather, and an aspect of the discussion after that fic, where we talked about athletes in particular using exercise as a coping mechanism, and how this can sometimes turn unhealthy.

Some content warnings for this one: over exercise (if you'd like to skip the explicit description of this, skip to after the first stars, although there are a couple of mentions throughout), food mentions, self-depreciation and mentions of coming out/being outed.

Rating: T

If you feel I missed any content warnings or need to change the rating, please drop me a message!

The characters in this fic are from the sweater weather universe and belong to @lumosinlove

Finn’s entire body ached as his feet pounded against the path once more. His form was sloppy now, shoulders too hunched over and his strides falling without any real control. He forced himself onwards, breaths coming in fast pants, the straining muscles of his quads screaming desperately for more oxygen. And yet, his brain still whirred, obnoxiously loud thoughts pushing their way back to the forefront each time Finn managed to grasp a few blissful quiet seconds. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d passed the statue of the girl and her ducks, the smile on her face that he normally found so comforting becoming more and more irritating with each meeting. As he came to the gates of the park, Finn contemplated going home, but even just the reduced speed had brought the taunting thoughts back with a vengeance. One more go.

***

"H, has her jacket on. Has everybody got their game faces ready, boys?" It had been at least 30 minutes since James had made the joke as they all tumbled from the locker room, yet the sound of bright laughter still rang in Finn's ears.

He watched as Heather tugged her suit jacket more tightly around her, their eyes meeting for the third time in short succession. Fuck. Finn pushed his tongue against his mouthguard, sinking his teeth into the hard plastic. Later, self-inflicted as the need would be, he would complain about the new one he’d have moulded, each guard always feeling slightly different. For now, the rhythmic clench of his jaw was soothing.

Finn forced a breath through his nose, trying not to react too visibly as Heather dipped her head once more to add another scribbled note to the small, black book she carried everywhere. He forced himself to look away, knowing his constant glances were giving away his unease. Whilst Heather didn’t come to every training session, not even most, it wasn’t that uncommon to see her hovering around the edges of the ice, and ordinarily, only the very newest of the team paid any attention to her beyond an initial greeting.

“Earth to O’Hara!”

Finn held up his hand in apology, shaking himself back to the training session. Kasey’s eyes bored into him. It wasn't his usual intense stare, but something more concerned and Finn waited for the inevitable question. After a long few seconds, Kasey's eyes dropped to the puck, passing it back to Finn to take another shot.

The numbers on the clock inched forwards, slow and heavy like the sweet sticky molasses Leo was so fond of. Still, when Coach finally dismissed them for the day, Finn found himself wanting to take another lap. If he could get his thighs to burn enough then his head would race a little less, and it wouldn’t be too suspicious; Finn’s record of being last on the ice was surpassed only by Sirius. Before Finn could really consider it, Leo was next to him, knocking their shoulders together.

“Hey,” Leo cocked his head slightly, hair ruffled from the mask he’d recently pulled off and his pale skin glistening with sweat. He looked as beautiful as ever. Illogical as it was, it somehow made the dull ache in Finn's chest worse. "Everything good?"

"Yeah," Finn tried for a smile. "Busy brain today, that's all." There was no point brushing the question off completely; Leo was scarily observant. He and Logan often joked that he had eyes in the back of his head. Finn had no doubt he had caught the many pucks he had missed over the last hour.

"That sucks," Leo said, scepticism leaking into his voice. "Is there anything I can do to help?" Finn followed his glance behind them to where Logan was tussling with Jackson, loud rumblings of French intertwined with their laughter. "Or Lo, perhaps?"

"I like it when he looks like that,” Finn sighed.

"Mmm, me too” Leo hummed, his features softening. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that change of subject though, Sir. You don’t have to talk to me about it, but please don’t bottle it all."

Finn slumped into his stall, smiling as Leo lifted his hand to press a kiss to the knuckles. “I’m dealing with it.”

“Baby,” Leo started, his next word morphing into a stunted exhalation of air. His eyes closed briefly, his shoulders squaring before he relaxed them. He opened his mouth again, the sentence uttered clearly not what he’d originally planned on saying. "I'm going to take my padding off and head to see Lars. I think Loops is sticking around so I can get a ride with him if you two want to go home?"

Finn thought back to the quiet look of concern on Logan's face after he'd got home from his run the previous evening, and to the creased lines of worry at the corners of Leo's eyes earlier. "I think I might go and see Heather," he shrugged.

"Thank God," Logan appeared, wrapping his arms around Finn's waist. "Your runs were getting ridiculous."

"You didn't say anything?" Finn turned in Logan's arms, to rest his chin on top of his head.

"We were going to give you one more day. Leo wanted to speak to you this evening, only I had faith.”

"Oh, fuck off," Leo laughed. "You were just avoiding the conversation."

“I’m offended that you would even suggest that,” Logan burrowed into Finn’s chest. The sweat soaked gear they wore didn’t smell great, but neither of them seemed to care.

Moody huffed as he veered around them, his arms filled with tape. “No canoodling in the locker room.”

***

“As lovely as this chat has been Finn, if you really did just come in to catch up then I’m going to have to ask you to leave. I’ve got a couple of sessions this afternoon, and a mound of paperwork to complete,” Heather shifted in the forest green bucket chair. They were new since Finn had last been in here, replacing an ugly leather thing that Heather had always complained was too stereotypical. She’d removed her jacket now that she was back in her heated office, the item hung on the back of the door where it rightfully belonged.

Finn, freshly showered and changed, sat cross legged in the chair opposite. He reached forward to grab more pretzel sticks from the bowl on the table between them, puckering his lips as his tongue protested another injection of salt. “You know there is something I could do with your opinion on.”

Despite the reaction being minute, Finn saw the tiny upwards quirk of Heather’s lips. “Go on,” she encouraged.

“It’s dumb,” Finn muttered, drumming his fingers against the arm of the chair.

“Thoughts don’t have moral value Finn, it’s what we do with that’s important.” Heather pulled a handful of tissues from a box on the table, holding them out. “Tap away, but please spare the upholstery.”

“Sorry,” Finn grimaced, cleaning his hands of the salty residue.

“No need to apologise, I’m just still a bit precious about the new furniture.” Heather smiled. “Why do you think your issue is dumb?”

“It’s -” Finn tugged at his sleeve. “I can just never be happy with what I’ve got can I? I spent 8 years saying that if Logan could just love me back then I’d never complain again. And now I’ve got Logan and Leo and I’m still not happy.”

“What’s making you unhappy?

Finn breathed in deeply, scrunching his eyes shut. He’d spent weeks stuffing the pain into the tiniest box he could in his brain, and now here Heather was asking him to just - talk about it?

“Finn, look at me?” Finn did as he was asked, lifting his head to find Heather’s kind eyes. “I’m going to reiterate something I’ve said before. You can say anything you want here. It doesn’t matter if it’s selfish or unkind or if you think it’s stupid. Unless I think you’re a danger to yourself or anybody else, then nobody is going to hear about it.”

Finn bit his lip, wiggling his toes beneath his legs. “I get jealous,” he rushed out. “I get jealous of Cap and Loops and Potts and Lily and all those other couples who just get to hug and kiss and tell the cameras how stupidly in love they are.” He paused, the panic of having told somebody matching the relief, but now the words had started tumbling out he couldn’t stop. “I get so angry about it. Sometimes, for the tiniest second, I hate them. All of them.” he whispered, barely able to admit it. “And then I just feel worse. Because I love them too and it’s not their fault. Cap and Loops didn’t even get a choice in the matter. How messed up is it to be jealous of somebody that got outed?”

“Emotions are complex. It is possible for you to have sympathy for Sirius and Remus, whilst still feeling jealous that they now can be more open about their relationship.”

'I don't like it," Finn huffed. The sentence had come out mimicking a toddler having a tantrum. Finn wanted to act like one too, to throw himself on the floor and scream.

“Have you spoken to Leo or Logan about it?”

“No,” Finn frowned. “It would just make them sad and I don’t want them to pressure them. I don’t want them to know I think such horrible things.”

“Okay,” Heather nodded. “Imagine one of them came to you and told you everything you’d just told me. What would you say to them?”

“Wait.” A distressed noise fell from Finn’s lips. “Do they talk to you about this too? Both of them make a comment here or there, but we talked about it not long ago and we agreed that we weren’t ready.”

“Finn, you know I can’t tell you about what I discuss with Leo or Logan.”

“It was worth a shot,” Finn shrugged.

“So, what would you say?”

“I’d say they are entitled to be jealous. I'd say it’s not fair we don’t get to do everything the others do just because the world is homophobic and close minded and can’t imagine the three of us could love each other exactly the same as every other more traditional couple. I’d say that I know they don’t hate Cap or Loops or Potts or Lily, they hate the situation and that’s completely understandable. It fucking sucks and they can be angry about it." Finn drew in a hulking breath, Heather's outline a little blurred through his wet eyes. Each word had sent an aching pain through his body, similar to when he ran, only now he felt like was chasing something cathartic rather than running away.

"Earlier you said what you had to tell me was dumb," Heather said. "Can you explain why you think that it's dumb for you to feel that way, horrible even, but if it were Leo or Logan their feelings are valid."

"Maybe it's not dumb," Finn looked down at his hands, tracing over the freckles there. "But that doesn't change the fact I don't like having those thoughts. Especially when I don't want to act on them. I’m okay with waiting to tell people about us, if we ever do. They're not ready. I'm not ready."

"That’s something we can work on. Helping you to reframe those thoughts, I mean.” Heather slipped her notebook from where it had been tucked beside her and made a note. Finn leaned his elbow on his leg, tucking his chin onto his fist, trying to make his attempts to see the page surreptitious. Capping her pen, she gave a small chuckle, “I’m just leaving myself a reminder of what we’ve discussed. You can always ask what I’m writing, I’m not trying to keep secrets from you.”

Finn sat back, the book no longer quite so interesting now that it wasn’t forbidden. “So? That’s it?”

Heather hummed. “For today. I think you’ve got a lot to think about already. I’ll schedule some more sessions with you over the next few days, okay? It’ll give me a chance to get some new pretzels.”

"Thanks," Finn laughed, then gestured at the empty bowl. "For the pretzels. And the talk."

“That’s what I’m here for,” Heather said. “I’m just going to ask one thing of you before I see you next. Please try to keep your evening runs to a reason-”

“Who snitched?”

“There was no snitching, as you call it. We’ve just known each other for a while now, Finn. And as an employee of the Lions whose job it is to make sure you’re at top playing ability, I don’t want you to injure yourself. As your psychologist, I want you to have healthy coping mechanisms and exercising to that extent is not healthy.”

“I know,” Finn unfolded his legs, stretching them out. They’d gone stiff after being sat on for so long, the sensation coming back with an uncomfortable tingle. “I’ll try to keep the runs in check, promise.” His gaze fell on the closed door, steeling himself to leave. He stood, sending Heather one last smile. It was safe in here, but his boys were out there.

“See you soon, Finn.”

Stepping out of the office, Finn closed his eyes, giving himself a second to compose himself. A rustle of movement to his left caught his attention, startling a little at the sight of Leo and Logan. They sat on the floor, Leo’s hand resting on Logan’s knee where they were hunched to his chest.

“Sorry,” Leo scrambled to his feet, his arm outstretched to let Logan pull himself upright too. “We didn’t want to wait too far away. In case, well, I don’t know, you needed us.”

Finn joined them, immediately finding Logan attached to his side, his familiar warmth exactly what he wanted right now. “I’m okay,” he assured. “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about it with you guys just yet. I need a bit of time to process, but just you being here makes things better. I’m going to see Heather a bit more too.”

“Proud of you.” Leo flanked him on the other side, taking his hand. Finn didn’t get to be in the middle often, Logan usually claiming the spot, and he felt like he had a kind of shield. “We just want you to be happy. And safe.”

“Can we go home, please?”

“Ouais, home,” Logan agreed.

#finn o'hara #logan tremblay #leo knut #heather #sweater weather #coast to coast #lumosinlove #rating: t #cw: overexercising #cw: food #cw: self-depreciation #cw: coming out #cw:outing

[procrastinatingnerd]

Hi everyone! So this was my first time taking part in the @osemanversebigbang but I had so much fun!! I can't wait to read everyone's entries! 💜

Title: Angel Rahimi And The Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Lunch Break

Characters: Angel, Juliet, Rowan, Jimmy, Lister, Bliss, two of Angel’s future uni friends (OCs).

Spoilers? Minor spoilers of important events in “I Was Born For This”.

Word Count: 3.6k

Ships: Bicci, one joke about Juliet/Rowan.

~Joan of Arc (Probably)

“I am so fucking tired”

“Right, time’s up, put your pens down.” The exam officer says from the front of the room. I scribble one last sentence before my hand gives out, and I all but throw my pen onto the desk, sighing as dramatically as I can. This week is a fucking nightmare. Exams and assignments are the piss. Fuck uni, I’m ready to drop out. Or drop dead. Either works, honestly.

As I leave the exam hall, I walk past some people from the students’ union. They’re handing out flyers for the Christmas ball next week. My housemates are all planning on going, but my friends and I planned our present swap for that night, so we’re going to spend it eating a fuck ton of snacks and watching the cheesiest Christmas films we can find. I can’t wait, I bought them each a bag of their favourite sweets from the American candy shop, it's going to be so much fun!

But that’s next week. Right now, all I want is to sit at a table that doesn’t have an exam paper on it, and eat something very greasy and very unhealthy. There’s a pizza place just on the edge of campus, run by some of the culinary arts students, and they make the best sauce ever. It’s pretty cheap too, which makes it a favourite for most people, especially at the end of a semester, when everyone’s bank accounts are running low.

I have about an hour until I need to be back in the exam hall, so I take full advantage of the outdoor seating and collapse into a chair after ordering. My pizza is brought out to me not long after, and I breathe in the smell. Nothing has smelt more gorgeous than the slices sitting in front of me. It’s a surprisingly warm day, for December at least, and for a moment, everything feels calm. I can hear a bird singing in a tree somewhere, other students are hanging around campus, most with their noses in their phones or in textbooks, and I actually let myself relax for a bit. I’ve done all the revision I can for this next exam, and I’m in desperate need of a break. I deserve this.

I pick up my first slice of pizza, and bring it up to my mouth. As I’m about to take a bite, however, my phone rings. I put the pizza down with a sigh and answer the phone without looking at who’s calling. Mum probably sensed I wasn’t doing any work, and is calling to check up on me.

“Hello?” I say tiredly.

“Angel, hi! Is this a good time??” I grin at the sound of Juliet’s voice.

“Hell yeah, it’s a perfect time! What’s up?”

“Wait, you don’t know why I’m calling?” Juliet says hesitantly. Shit. What have I forgotten now? I know it’s not her birthday. Wait, is it mine?? I swear exams rot your brain, have I actually forgotten my own birthday?

“No…?” I ask after internally monologuing for way too long.

“Oh my god, you don’t know??” Juliet screeches in my ear, “Angel go look at your phone, it’s urgent!”

Now very concerned, I put Juliet on speaker and, for the first time all morning, actually read the notifications filling my lock screen. I open the Twitter news one, and my mouth drops open in shock.

“Holy shit.”

On my screen is a news article with a headline that reads, “THE ARK’S JIMMY KAGA-RICCI AND LISTER BIRD’S SECRET RELATIONSHIP EXPOSED”, and just below it sits a large photo of Jimmy and Lister, standing outside a pub, kissing. I don’t believe it.

“Holy fu- Hold on a second. Mate, isn’t that the pub by Piero’s house?!” I say, bringing my phone as close to my face as I can, as if that’ll help me see better. There’s a loud shuffling noise on the other end of the line, and then I hear a gasp.

“Oh my god, you’re right!” Juliet says. “Rowan said they were going on holiday, but I thought he meant abroad or something.” I smile at that. Ever since our little jaunt to Kent last summer, Juliet and I have kept in touch with the boys. We even have a group chat now; us and them and even Bliss is in it. I’m so glad we stayed friends.

At first, Rowan was really quiet, and if he did speak he and Juliet would almost always end up arguing, but they’ve been getting along quite well lately. I’m not saying I ship it or anything, I’ve learnt my lesson there, but I have to say, fangirl-to enemies-to lovers would make a wicked fanfiction trope.

“Did you see any of this coming?” Juliet continues. “Surely Jimmy would have said something to you?”

“He said he was dating someone, but didn’t want to give details because they were taking things slow. Well, that and that celebrity phone hacking scandal freaked him right the fuck out, remember?” I say.

"That's

right, he stopped talking on the group chat for like two weeks, didn’t he?” Juliet giggles back. “Well, nevertheless, I’m happy for them. They’re cute together.”

“Yeah, they are.” I grin again. “Oh my god, poor Rowan though! I’d hate to live with a couple, especially a new one! It’d be nauseating.”

“Oh I know, right? And imagine what’ll happen when they have their first fight!” Juliet gasps again. I shudder at the thought.

“I’m muting the group chat when that happens.” I joke.

“Not a bad idea.” Juliet laughs back, then pauses. “Oh, Angel, I’m sorry I’ve got the get going, but do you want to skype later?”

“Yeah, no problem! I’ve got a revision session at 6, but I should be free by 9ish?”

“Sounds perfect! See you then!” Juliet says, and with that, she’s gone, and I’m back to sitting alone with my pizza.

Jimmy and Lister. Holy shit. I don’t think anyone in the fandom saw this coming. Everything has been about Jowan, since the fandom started growing it’s the only ship that ever existed. No one bothered writing fics about any other pairings. The only Jimmy/Lister fics I ever came across were platonic ones, and even they made sure to mention Jimmy’s boyfriend Rowan.

Oh god, I hope they’re okay. The fans got so crazy when Bliss and Rowan’s relationship was exposed. Jimmy/Lister is the final nail in the Jowan coffin. Jimmy must be having the panic attack of his life! I’ve got to-

My phone rings again.

I look down at the screen, and see Jimmy’s name. I take a deep breath, and answer.

“Jimmy, hi! How are-”

“Have you seen it??”

“Yes.”

“Oh god. This isn’t how we wanted to tell you guys.”

“You sure? Because getting caught by the national press worked so well for you last time.” I tease. Silence. Oops, probably not the best thing to remind him of right now.

“Jimmy, you still there?” I say carefully. There’s a slight rustle on his end, which means he probably just nodded. “Everything is going to be fine, I promise. The fans will move on. They already did with Jowan, right?”

“But what if something happens again? Something like-”

“It won’t. You guys have better security now, and you’re doing less public events. You’re going to be fine.” I hope and pray that I’m saying the right things. Jimmy and I have gotten close lately, but I’m nowhere near as good at helping him deal with his anxiety as Rowan and Lister are. There’s more silence, until finally, Jimmy speaks again.

“Okay. Yeah. Yeah I think you’re right. Thanks, Angel.”

“Course I’m right! If there’s one thing I know, it’s fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs, and I grin back. “And don’t forget, you’re not alone in this. This is happening to Lister too, and no doubt Rowan and Bliss will be there to help you. Just talk to them.”

“Thank you Angel, I’ll go do that now.”

“Perfect! Love you Jim, I’ll text you later.” I say, and the call ends.

He’ll be okay. He’s got too many people who love him not to be. I take another breath and put my phone down on the table. As soon as I do, however, it buzzes again, and I see Jimmy is trying to facetime me. Now very concerned, I answer it and hold the phone up so he can see my face properly.

“Jimmy, are you okay, what’s happened??” I ask anxiously, but he looks fine. He looks at me with a confused expression.

“Nothing, I’m just talking to the others, like you said.” He says. It’s only me and him on the call. I stare at him in silence for a moment.

“Jimmy, mate… I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m not any of them” I say slowly, and to my surprise, Jimmy laughs.

“Yeah I know, but I was kind of hoping to have you here, too, if that’s okay?” He says sheepishly. “It’s okay if you’re busy, it’s just that… I don’t know, you’re good with this stuff and you make me feel calm? Sorry, I know that’s a lot to just dump on you.” Jimmy doesn’t look at me directly, and I start to feel tears in my eyes.

“Well damn, Jim, I guess if you truly love me that much, I can stick around for a bit.” I laugh, and quickly glance at the time. “My lunch break is only halfway over, anyway, so I have plenty of time to hang out while you talk to the others.”

Jimmy seems to let out a breath, like he’d been holding it, and grins.

Just as I’m about to start talking again, I hear a ping, and Lister’s face appears on screen, followed by Rowan and Bliss.

“Hey Jimjam, you okay?” Rowan asks, looking as calm as ever. “Oh hey Angel.” He adds. I give him an awkward smile.

“Wait, Angel's here?” Bliss interrupts before Jimmy can answer. “Nice, how’s the week from hell going? Didn’t think we’d hear from you until you’d made it through.”

“Yeah it’s rough, but I’m getting there. This is a welcome distraction though.” I grin at her.

“So you’ve seen the pictures then. They look good, right?” Lister chimes in, before correcting himself. “I mean, it’s horrible they found us, fucking pricks, but you’ve got to admit we look good.”

“You can be so self-centred sometimes.” Bliss laughs.

“Come on Lister, this isn’t a joke.” Rowan chides him.

“Well, I guess he isn’t wrong..” Jimmy mumbles nervously and I see him smile a bit.

“See, Jimmy agrees with me!” Lister argues back at Rowan, who rolls his eyes.

“It’s still not something to laugh about.” Rowan says firmly. “Cecily’s already on damage control, cancelling some events, beefing up the security at others, and giving the tabloids hell. She’s also let your grandad know, Jimmy.”

“Wait, aren’t you guys all down there already?” I ask, confused.

“Nah we got back last night. That picture was taken when we went out for lunch the other day. Took their time printing it.” Lister says.

“Probably needed time to pad out their articles. Seriously, how can they write so many pages about two people dating?” Bliss adds.

“Probably whining about how Jowan is now well and truly dead.” Rowan rolls his eyes again. “Although I have to say, I’m pretty happy about that part.” I cringe slightly as he says that. I will never not regret being one of the Jowan fangirls.

“So Cecily’s already got a plan? That’s good, that’s a bit of a relief.” Jimmy speaks up, looking visibly more relaxed than he had sounded over the phone earlier.

“Yeah she’s got it sorted, so we can start planning our Christmas party!” Lister says, making the others groan.

“Lister what the hell makes you think we should be throwing a massive fucking party right now?!” Rowan says, his voice growing louder. Lister goes quiet, looking like he wants to shrink into his seat, before eventually speaking up again.

“Look, it doesn’t have to be anything big, I just mean… Angel, you’re gonna be in London with Juliet, right? Come over, drag Bliss with you, Jimmy can invite his grandad, Rowan you can bring Jade, and there you go, that’s our party!”

“That’s...actually a good idea.” Rowan says, surprised.

“Yeah, that sounds like fun!” Jimmy adds.

“I’m up for it, Angel, do you think Juliet will wanna come?” Bliss says.

“Hell yeah she would, let’s do it!” I reply with a massive smile on my face. Partying with Bliss and the boys sounds like the best way to spend my Christmas London trip. I’ll make sure to tell Juliet about it when I talk to her later. As I start planning all the food I’m going to bring over, and wondering what the boys’ flat will look like at Christmas, the conversation starts up again.

“You sure you’re doing alright, Jimmy? I can come back home if you need me to.” Rowan says, focusing things on the issue at hand again.

“No no, don’t worry, stay with your family. They’d kill me if I made you miss out on spending time with them.” Jimmy jokes. “I’ve got Lister here, and Cecily’s number if I need it. My head isn’t giving me too much grief right now, anyway.”

“Wait, Lister, you’re there with him?” Bliss asks.

“Yeah, check it out!” Lister says, before picking up his phone and moving. He takes us out of what I think was his room, through a hallway and comes out into a large living room, where we can see Jimmy on a sofa looking at his phone. “Say hi to the chat, Jim!”

Everyone laughs as Jimmy gives an awkward wave to Lister’s phone. Lister then hangs up and launches himself into view of Jimmy’s screen, and the two shuffle about until they’re practically sitting on top of each other, faces

squished together so the tiny phone camera captures them both. I hate how cute they look together.

“Alright, if you’re sure, Jimmy,” Rowan says, smiling for probably the first time this whole call.

“Yeah, I’m sure.” Jimmy smiles back. “This whole situation is terrifying, and I’m more than ready to hide in my room and not see another mad fangirl for the rest of my life, but... if I did that we’d never get to hang out with Angel again.” He finishes, biting his lip as if unsure of whether or not the joke will hit.

“Uh..ouch!” I clap my hand on top of my heart dramatically and laugh, while the others join in. “I’ll have you know I’ve abandoned my fangirl ways. Mostly. Sort of. Okay, not completely but I’m not shipping real people anymore, so that’s something, right?!”

Lister is giving Jimmy a look of what I can only assume is pride for making a decent joke during a time of peak anxiety, Rowan has his head in his hands, probably contemplating his life choices now that Lister seems to be rubbing off on Jimmy, and Bliss still looks shocked that such a joke came out of Jimmy’s mouth, not Lister’s. When things calm down again, I check the time and speak up again.

“Well this has been fun Jim, but I’m afraid I have mad fangirl duties to be getting back to. Shrines to build, fanfiction to write, you know how it is.” I say sarcastically.

“Thanks again, Angel, for being here, and listening. And you’d better be right about that fandom drama.” Jimmy laughs again, although this time I see his smile falter a bit.

“Hey, look at me,” I say, moving as close to the screen as I can without squishing my face on it. “Things will settle down before you know it, in the meantime, we’re all here for you. You’re not alone in this.” Rowan and Bliss nod in agreement, and I see Lister hug Jimmy closer. Jimmy takes a breath and nods as well.

“Thanks Angel. And good luck with your exam. We’ll see you over the holidays.” He smiles.

“Yeah you got this Angel, go smash it!” Bliss chimes in, giving me a thumbs up and a grin. I say one last goodbye to them all, and hang up.

I look back down at my pizza, still uneaten. I need to stop letting myself get distracted during phone calls. I can eat and talk to my friends at the same time. I’m usually a master at it.

“Fereshteh!” I look up again. Either I’m going loony, or someone just said-

“FERESHTEH!” I turn around and see Mollie and Christina barrelling towards me, with the most excitement I’ve ever seen on a students’ face during exam season. They crash into my table and both start talking at once.

“Have you seen??”

“Did you know??”

“How long have they been together?!”

“Oh my god is this why you won’t tell us about what happened in Kent?!”

“Woah, easy on the interrogation! Seriously, you guys need to work on your interview skills.” I put my hands up in surrender and laugh. Mollie rolls her eyes at me.

“So? Did they tell you or what?” She asks again. I roll my eyes back at her.

“You know I don’t want to tell you guys anything about the boys. They trust me, and I’m not going to fuck that up because of some shit a tabloid prints.”

“How dare you appeal to our morality and ethics, we want gossip dammit!” Christina giggles, lightly banging her fist down on the table.

“Then stick to the Twitter pages.” I stick my tongue out at her. Mollie and Christina are two of my housemates, and are part of the Ark fandom. I never planned on telling them about Kent, but they figured out who I was thanks to the pictures of me and Jimmy on the train. I didn’t think you could tell it was me, but fangirls are like master detectives. They figured it out in less than a week. They haven’t told anyone though, they’re good mates.

“So how are you feeling about all of this? Whether you knew or not, having it out in the press like this is a lot to handle, especially after last time.” Mollie says, now in serious mode.

“It is a lot, definitely, but they’ll be fine. They’ve had this happen before and they know what to expect from the fans. I just wish I could be there for them.” I say, sitting back in my chair.

“I get

that, it must suck that you guys are so far apart now.” Christina chimes in.

“I mean it’s not like we ever lived close to each other before. The only reason we even crossed paths over the summer was because I was staying with a friend. But yeah, being away from them all is kind of hard sometimes.” I sigh dramatically, making Mollie and Christina grin.

“Are you going to visit them over Christmas?” Christina asks.

“I’m definitely going to visit my friend in London again, for a day or two, but I don’t know if we’ll be able to see the boys.” I quickly lie. “They cut back on public events but they’re still really busy most of the time. And this,” I gesture to my phone “definitely won’t help.”

“We’ll keep an eye on fandom updates for you, and try to shut any mentions of Jowan down,” Mollie says, reaching across the table and giving my hand a gentle squeeze. I squeeze hers back and give her a grateful smile. I mostly stopped interacting with the fandom after meeting the boys, reading fanfiction, and discussing theories with other fans just feels weird and creepy to do when the people you’re talking about are your friends. So it’s nice that I have Mollie and Christina looking out for them, and doing what I can’t. Christina has a pretty big following on Tumblr, and Mollie’s a Twitter ace, so I trust them to hold their ground with the fandom.

“Okay, you don’t have to give us any details, but genuinely, what do you think of Lister and Jimmy as a couple? Because I don’t think the fandom could handle a breakup.” Christina says after a while, making me laugh.

“Pfft, yeah I don’t think the boys could handle a breakup, either.” I smile. “But honestly? I think they’ll be good for each other. Lister is good at helping Jimmy relax and step out of his anxiety bubble, and Jimmy can help reign in Lister’s chaotic energy. Plus they’re freaking cute together, I mean just look at this picture!” I finish, gesturing dramatically to my phone again.

“They are so cute!” Mollie nods in agreement. “I’m actually shocked no one thought to ship them together before.”

“That’s the Jowan storm, for you,” Christina adds. “Can’t believe we ever shipped that.”

“So gross.” I shudder at the thought. Suddenly the alarm I’d set this morning went off, making us all jump.

“What’s that?” Mollie asks. I check the screen and practically leap out of my seat.

“Oh shit, my exam starts in 10 minutes!” I say, gathering my stuff up as quickly as I can. I say my goodbyes to Mollie and Christina and start running back across campus to the exam hall.

I make it just in time, much to the invigilator’s chagrin, check my bag in at the desk at the back of the hall, and collapse into my assigned seat. The exam starts, and it’s only when it does that my stomach reminds me that I never actually ate lunch. Shit.

I start to silently scold myself for being so stupid, when my mind starts drifting to the video chat with Jimmy and the others. He and Lister looked so comfortable with each other. Makes sense, they've known each other for so long. But even still, Jimmy looked so much happier once Lister sat down with him, and Lister himself practically seemed at home with Jimmy’s arms wrapped around him. I smile at my exam paper.

I’m so happy for them.

#osemanverse #i was born for this #iwbft #bicci #angel rahimi #jimmy kaga ricci #lister bird #juliet schwartz #bliss lai

[beevean]

💚

Ship that you secretly like: 💚

Ehm. Well, I don't know how much I'll regret being honest here, but I'll go into problematic territory here. Don't open the read more if you hate age gaps, abusive/unhealthy ships, and ships that make you go "what the fuck is wrong with you?". I guess it also counts for the 💦 question.

One is Sagamaji from Yakuza. As soon as I was introduced to Sagawa, my brain went like "oh, so Sagawa has complete power over Majima, mhh? And Majima would endure anything to get back to the family, mmh? 👀"

Not a cute ship at all :p it's all about that good power imbalance, dehumanization (hey, it's the series itself that keeps calling Majima a mad dog, it comes with the territory) and Majima being secretly into being used. Sometimes. Sometimes he's just abused and he hates it. Well, in the game they also eventually come to respect each other, but I guess nobody cares about that part. Still, there are plenty of delicious, if repetitive, fics about Sagawa rescuing Majima from the Hole and the screwed, dependent relationship that follows. (Sagawa is a patronizing slimy piece of shit and I love him so much)

The other, the big one, is... Sonegg. Boom Sonegg more than games Sonegg. Well, games could still work, but not without some serious canon manipulation, like making Sonic older for starters (definitely, obviously mandatory here).

You know how I go on and on about muh dynamic and muh chemistry? Well, I happen to love Sonic and Eggman's relationship :p The two have similar personality traits, even though they're polar opposite in many regards. Eggman loves power, and few people are more powerful than Sonic; Sonic loves danger, and who's more dangerous than the good old doc? And Sonic definitely likes his rivalry with Eggman: he will stop him no matter what, but he gives the impression that he fights Eggman for fun more than duty. The two have been facing each other since before Sonic met Tails! That's a deep level of knowing each other.

Again, not a cute ship full of love, more like one of tension, playing, "I hate you but I can't be without you", that sort of thing.

Well, of course, in canon Eggman would rather fuck Sonic up, than to fuck him up without the "up". Canon Eggman needs Sonic far less than Sonic could need Eggman, and even that is a stretch. That's fair and that's not to be underestimated. Not to worry, that's where the Boomverse comes into play!

Their dynamic in the show is very different than in canon: not only Eggman is more of an insecure bully than a genuine danger (although he has his moments of cunning and manipulation), not only he and Sonic are basically frenemies, but... How do I put this...

(we were distracted by the endless Sonamy teasing, but Eggman deadass said Sonic has rocking good looks and we all ignored it smh)

When in the first episode, Eggman swoons at the idea of becoming Sonic's sidekick, with a tone that doesn't feel as ironic as it should... Well one starts to think. And Sonic is... strangely touchy, especially for a version of the character that's supposed to be a grumpy loner 👀

Oh, and Sonic is, to borrow an obnoxious modern fandom term, adult coded :) He could definitely pass for someone in his 20s! And while I love my 20/50 age gap when it comes to fucked up ships (i may have a type...), the fun thing is that you barely feel it with Sonic and Eggman. Eggman doesn't use his age to prey on Sonic or abuse him, they're completely equal, that's the whole point :) hell Eggman is the immature one! (well okay Sonic doesn't exactly shine in the maturity department... Yeah they're equals. Sidenote, I can't stand when people pull the age gap without considering everything about the characters in question. Some Steven Universe ships were hit really hard by this narrowmindness)

So yeah, obviously this is not only one hell of a rareship, but one that you cannot mention outside of a joke because everyone and their mother throws up in their mouth at the mere thought. It's a shame because I think Boom Sonegg could be cute as well as hilarious, definitely more wholesome than canon lol. It's rare to find earnest content, but when I do, boy am I fed, and I'd better be because I won't find any new content for a month at best. Oh well. I may be cringe, but I am free.

#seriously heed the warnings lol #i can't believe i wrote a whole essay about a ship who has maybe 5 shippers 😂

[imagine-that]

Good for you

Pairing: Loki x reader

Warning: angst? Anger? Idfk, breaking things, rage ig.

( A part 2 to White Horse )

AN: I didn’t have this one planned as a part buttttttttt I heard the song and I had a Loki’s perspective idea for this fic and I just started writing it and now it’s finished andddddd I kinda like it even more than I liked White Horse 😊😊 here’s the song if you want to listen while you read or whatever ❤️❤️

Loki glared up at the ceiling, staring up at the art of a mural painted over the surface for what seemed like the thousandth time that day alone. He showed absolutely no desire to do much else lately, not unless visiting Heimdall counted as something to do, but he never did that just for the purpose of chatting.

Since you’d ran away, he was even worse than he was before. He was cold towards anyone who approached him, he snapped at the very slightest of things and he spent his days obsessing. Obsessing over where you were, what you did, who you were with. Essentially, if it had anything to do with you, he demanded to know even the smallest of details.

For whatever reason, he didn’t dare go down to Midgard to look for you. Heimdall believed it was because he only worried for you and somehow deep down he knew this was better for the both of you but he kept this theory to himself, not wanting to further enrage the god.

“Where is she/he/they now?” Loki barked as he walked through the gates, not bothering with a normal greeting.

“Y/n is just out for a coffee your highness, there is not much to say from the last time you asked.” Heimdall said simply.

Loki shakes his head with a cold laugh. “And? Who is she/he/they with then? Midgardians typically go for coffee in pairs. They use it as a date.” He sneers, glaring just at the thought.

“It seems that she/he/they is with another person yes.” Heimdall says, hoping it won’t send Loki over the edge to hear.

“Of course.” He mutters under his breath, storming away without another word to Heimdall, his brain flooding with an overwhelming amount of memories with you, making his jaw grind as it tightened.

Well good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

You found a new girl and it only took a couple weeks

Remember when you said that you wanted to give me the world

His thoughts were plagued with the idea of you with another, your hand held in someone else’s, your laugh being another persons treasure. It filled him with an envy as green as his cloaks, his blood boiling at the mere idea.

He stormed through the throne room, ignoring his fathers shouts of anger for the interruption, ignoring Thor’s cries of concern and heading straight to the only place he felt he had left of you; your room in the palace.

As angry as he was, he gently shut the door behind him rather than slamming it, not wanting to disturb the peace in the empty room.

To others, that was exactly what it would look like; an empty and vacant bedroom waiting to be used. But to him it was the last place he’d seen you, the last time he’d ever seen his one true love was in this room and he couldn’t handle the idea that it could be the last time ever.

He glanced at the photos you’d left decorating your dresser, the only sign that this room was ever once used for anything more than a guest room.

He stared at one of the photos with a blank stare, grabbing it off the dresser and looking down at your still smiling face intently, as though if he stared long enough, it would pull you right out of the photograph and back to him. But then he flashes back to the last night you two had been together, the way he’d been so blinded by his love for you that you’d managed to deceit him and he cried out in anger, tossing the frame across the room where it smashed as soon as it hit the wall.

He was breathing heavy, collapsing down to the ground on his knees.

He remembered Heimdall telling him that you had been seeing a therapist, coping much better with the trauma he’d put you through when you started seeing the professional. Despite his love for you, he was jealous beyond belief.

He was a god, he was good looking, he was a prince. He should be the one thriving without you, so he thought. But instead he was the one falling apart at the seams.

And good for you, I guess that you’ve been workin’ on yourself

I guess that therapist I found for you, she really helped

Now you can be a better man for your brand new girl

He cried out again, anger filling his entire body with a hot rage.

Thor slammed the door open, rushing over to his brothers side. “Brother, what is the matter?” He asked, crouching down beside him.

Loki laughs humourlessly. “What is the matter? WHAT IS THE MATTER? The one person in this world who has ever chosen me over all else, who has ever loved me unconditionally has ran off into the sunset, probably with a mere mortal. And I am at fault for it. That, dear brother, is what is the matter.” He growls, a sad smile painting his lips.

“Y/n will return brother, at which point you may apologize for the problems between you two.” Thor assures him.

Loki scoffs, looking up at his brother with narrowed eyes. “Dare not speak her/his/their name brother.” He warns, his jaw stiff again.

Since your departure, the only person who’d said your name was Heimdall. Not even Loki himself could bring himself to say it, the pain still too raw.

Well good for you

You look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

“It will happen Loki. Give it time.” Thor says again, ignoring his brothers threat as he rises to his feet, patting Loki on the shoulder sympathetically.

Loki doesn’t move, stays in his spot planted on your floor, surrounded by his memories while Thor leaves.

He pulls himself up, but only to let himself lay on your bed rather than looking so pathetic and powerless on the floor, feeling he at least deserved that much dignity.

“Dearest I miss you.” He murmurs to no one, staring up at the ceiling once again, this time not quite glaring. The intricate golden and silver designs on your ceiling were more delicate, softer than the ones in his own or in any other room in the palace really.

“Loki I don’t need my own room in the palace. I have yours! That’s plenty enough for me.” He could practically hear your voice, your hesitation at staying in the palace officially due to the royalty part of everything fresh in his mind as though it were only yesterday and not three or so years ago.

Now you were probably off living your dream Midgardian life, something that was completely beyond him in your eyes apparently. He could almost see you, walking around in the streets on Midgard, savouring everything you saw, smelt, tasted. From what Heimdall had said, you were perfectly content being so ordinary.

Good for you

You’re doing great out there without me, baby

God I wish that I could do that

He hated thinking of you, every moment he did was a moment he had to spend missing your presence. In yet another fit of rage, he threw a crystal vase at the door, the shattered pieces spreading across the floor.

He forced himself to his feet, making himself leave your room, abandoning the broken items as he simply walked around them, slamming the door behind him. He’d already disturbed the peace in the room just by being there, he knew, and to think otherwise would be foolish and stupid.

“Prince Loki, are you alright? I heard something break and it sounded as though it came from your room.” A young maid asked as she approached him, worry apparent on her face. Loki recognized the girl as one who had been crushing on him for years, one who often made you bubble with jealousy whenever she was around.

He smirked at the girl, a new idea popping into his head, one that would surely have hurt you as bad as your leave had hurt him.

“I am alright, I slipped and knocked down a vase, that is all.” He explained, trying to regain his usual charm and confidence.

The girl nodded, a small smile on her lips. “I’m so glad.” She says, batting her eyelashes his way in a manner he was sure she thought was attractive to him. He ignored it, focusing on his goal.

He grabbed the girl and pulled her into his room, shutting the door and pushing her up against it, wasting no time as he attacks her lips with his own. She lets out a gasp of surprise but immediately returns the gesture, kissing him hard. He holds her at the waist with one hand, going to cup her face with the other but opens his eyes for a mere moment and is suddenly seeing your face.

He blinks harshly, until it’s the girl standing in front of him again, watching him with a confused pout. Just as she’s about to speak, more than likely to ask if he’s alright again, he pulls the door open, shoving her out and closing it behind her, his eyes wide as he runs a hand through his hair, breathing heavy once again as he falls to the floor, his back against the door.

“Loki she was staring right at you! She’s practically in love with you! And I’m standing right there and she still makes googly eyes at you!” You had scoffed whenever the maid was around.

He so badly wanted to be able to laugh about your jealousy towards a girl who meant nothing to him compared to you, whose name he couldn’t even remember. He wanted to caress the side of your face, the pad of his thumb to your lips while he reassured you that he was all yours, no one else’s. But he couldn’t turn back time, this he knew.

“My love I’d give anything to get you back to me.” He chokes, starting to sob into his lap.

I’ve lost my mind

I’ve spent the night

Crying on the floor of my bathroom

He spends the whole night there, leaned against the door, getting nothing but an hour or so of sleep. The next day, he uses a simple spell to make himself appear fine, not able to bear the embarrassment of others seeing him breaking down like this.

He ignores any castle staff onlookers, going on in his stride straight back to the bifrost, following his newfound unhealthy routine.

“Prince Loki I must advise you as to how toxic this is becoming for you.” Heimdall warns him, letting out a sigh as Loki holds up a hand to silence him, watching expectantly for an answer to his unasked question.

“Y/n has been settling into her/his/their new life. She/he/they is starting a Midgardian job today.” Heimdall finally explains, giving up on his attempts to preserve Loki’s feelings.

“I see.” Loki hums to himself, the gears in his brain shifting.

“Was that all?” Heimdall asks, his arms crossed over his chest.

“Send me there.” Loki says suddenly, looking over at Heimdall for the first time in all of his many visits. Heimdall looks back in slight shock.

“What do you believe that will accomplish your highness?” He asks, trying to fight Loki on the matter respectfully.

“I need to see my love there, happy. I need to see it for myself.” Loki responds simply. Heimdall glances at him once more, nodding as he knows he’d never be able to talk him out of this idea. He tells him where exactly he’d be able to find you reluctantly.

Heimdall opens the gates wordlessly, sending Loki on the way down to earth. Loki arrives, dusting off his clothes as he uses another spell to make himself appear completely different from usual.

Though he’d only spent a brief period on Midgard, he knew his way around well enough that he could find the address Heimdall had given him fairly quickly, walking through the streets of New York to find it.

“Of course she/he/they would pick New York.” He thought to himself bitterly, winding past other tourists until he reached the building he was looking for. He was about to enter when something caught his eye in the window of a small coffee shop next door. He saw a flash of y/h/c, the exact shade he’d seen so many times and froze, staring on at the source.

And there you were, with men and women and people all around you, chatting, laughing, drinking with them. He saw the warm smile on your face and his heart melted knowing he wasn’t the source of it this time. He couldn’t hear what was being said through the window but he knew it was important from the sole fact that it was making you laugh. He felt tears starting in his eyes, a wave of hurt hitting him again and again inside, drowning him.

But you’re so unaffected,

I really don’t get it

But I guess good for you

He watched, unable to move from his spot, eyes glued to the familiarity of you. He wanted your warm embrace against his cold to the touch skin, your lips on his.

But he felt another wave, one of anger. You’d left that touch, that safety net, for this. For midgardians, mere mortals. How could they possibly offer you more than he could, he wondered.

He took a deep breath, stalking into the coffee shop and getting in line to order, wanting at least one thing to come out of this disaster of a thought to come to where you are.

“No no, my ex... he’s a good guy. We just weren’t really meant to be, I guess? It was... complicated.” He overheard you say, his eyes darting to you. He tries to turn his gaze away, realizing what he’s doing but you look up, your eyes meeting his. For a moment the both of you keep eye contact, Loki too scared to look away and you confused as to why this man you’d never seen has such a familiar stance to him.

You blink a few times, turning back to your group and continuing your chat, making Loki breath a small sigh of relief. He mutters his order to the poor barista, her swooning over him, even in his disguise. Once his order comes up, he storms out, not bothering to look back at you as you start talking about your new job, new apartment, your new life essentially. He frowns at the thought of you being in any place that would be unfamiliar to him, trying to think of how you might feel living without him.

Did you miss him as much as he missed you? Had your comment in the shop been a hint that you were miserable like he was? But he knew that neither of those would possibly be true. Your smile said it all; you were already moving on perfectly fine without him. It was as though you were almost trying to erase your history with him, from his perspective anyway.

Well good for you, I guess you’re getting everything you want

You bought a new car and your career’s really taking off

It’s like we never even happened, baby what the fuck is up with that?

Unable to bear the thoughts multiplying in his mind, Loki ducked into an ally, curling into himself against a wall, starting to cry again.

He groaned in frustration, his head in his hands. You were unraveling him, he wasn’t sure how and he didn’t like how it felt. He’d always been at least somewhat levelheaded but with you gone, his mind was always clouded, his thoughts were infected with you nonstop.

It was like a disease had overcome his entire body and he had no cure, no antibodies to fight it.

“What have I done?” He asks himself, sighing into his hands, staying in his position crouched on the ground for a quiet moment, seeking nothing but a bit of peace.

He’d only wanted to show you he truly loved you but instead he’d driven you away, into a new embrace.

He runs a hand over his jaw, willing himself up. If he couldn’t hear to see you, there was no purpose in him furthering his stay. He decided silently that the best option for him was going back and waiting for Heimdall to open the gates, to get him as far away from your soft features and glowing personality as possible before he did something he’d regret, like approaching you and outing himself as a stalker, not that he really cared anymore. You’d never see him the same as you once had, this much was clear.

Memories of the first I love you came to his mind suddenly.

“I love you Loki, and I know you love me too so stop acting so silly and just say it, please.” You had begged him. He had merely smirked and ran off, telling you you had to catch him to hear it back. You’d chased him around the gardens and the libraries and balconies of the entire palace until you’d caught up, out of breath as you’d grabbed his cloak and pulled him towards you and kept him rooted to his spot until he returned the words.

He’d been hesitant, merely to tease you but he’d said them back, said them multiple times while he had kissed you all over, overjoyed by the sense of protection and love he felt with you.

He shook his head with a bitter laugh to himself at the bittersweet memory, seeing as how things were for you now.

He trudged his way back to the gates opening, kicking a rock aggressively all the way there, trying to contain himself enough to not scream out in anger the way he had been doing in his room. But every time he managed to calm himself, your smiling face found it’s way into his brain, making him lose all feelings not involving anger.

He kept trying to remind himself that it had been your choice, that you’d left him without a goodbye or anything of the sort on purpose to make the wound sting more but it did nothing but make him feel agony for the hurt he’d put you through.

And good for you it’s like you never even met me

Remember when you swore to god I was the only person who ever got you

Well screw that and screw you, you will never have to hurt the way you know that I do

His rage was finally starting to blind him again as he marched to the gates, just how he liked it. The idea of you with another person was still what really set it off. Seeing you hurt but watching you thrive and move on was more, it was worse. It filled him with feelings he’d never thought he’d feel towards you in his life but he was and he didn’t feel as bad as he thought he would.

‘No one leaves a prince. Not unless they are absolutely crazy.’ He thought to himself smugly, waiting at the gates for Heimdall to open them. He gets pulled through, up to Asgard where he dusts off his smooth suit, relieved to finally be out of the disguise he’d chosen.

The smile on your face when he’d seen you with the Midgardians was glued to his brain, his focus flying all over the place at the memory. He couldn’t figure out quite what it was that was making him so agitated himself, knowing he missed you but suppressing the extent of it.

Asgard felt empty, superficial almost without you there to watch everything in such a natural awe that he’d so admired for so long. It was as though all the colours of the home he’d so cherished for so long were drained right down the gates when they’d opened and swallowed you whole.

He couldn’t bear that you’d managed to run off with not only his trust and dignity but his sanity along with it.

Pushing such thoughts to the back of his mind, Loki stormed back to his own room, avoiding yours at all costs as he forced his doors open, slamming them behind him and grabbing anything breakable in sight, tossing it at the balcony doors. If anyone had walked in they would’ve thought he’d truly lost his mind but to him, that much was at least somewhat true.

Maybe I’m too emotional

But your apathy’s like a wound in salt

Your deceit was controlling more of his life, his thoughts, his entire being than he’d ever care to admit. He was consumed with a need for you, a thirst to be near you again and everyone could see it was driving him to the edge of a cliff, the only possible person to pull him back up being the one pushing him to it in the first place. Still, he knew it was all his own doing. That was how he knew part of his latest insanity was due to the built up guilt from so long.

Even so, he was enraged. With you, with himself, with the world. It was a mix of everything.

He could almost feel the gentle touch of your hand to his shoulder when he was upset, your lips pressed sweetly to his temple in attempts to cool him off.

“You can’t hold pointless grudges all your life Loki. You can try but I’m not sure it would be any fun.” You’d teased, making him smile despite his sour mood.

He cried out, throwing another priceless item from his hand, crumbling to the ground yet again. The stress was eating away at him.

Maybe I’m too emotional

Or maybe you never cared at all

Thor heard the crashes and smashing coming from his brothers room and went running, pushing open the door with all his strength, his mouth agape as he was met with the sight of his brother screaming in agony.

“Brother, talk to me.” He commands, trying to stop Loki from throwing anything more. Loki thrashes against his brother, sobbing while he yells out, fighting his brother with all his might.

“Loki stop fighting me and tell me what is wrong!” Thor commands and Loki falls to the ground on his knees, exhaustion hitting him like a brick.

“I am fine. Everything is fine.” He murmurs, smiling at his brother easily. Thor shakes his head, not accepting the answer this time.

“Tell me.” He says again and Loki sighs, a hollow laugh choking out of his lips. He removes the spell he’d used, revealing his true self, in pyjamas, his hair an extreme mess, his face sunken in and pale, more so than usual. His eyes were bloodshot beyond belief.

Thor audibly gasped at the sight of his brother covered in his own blood, the shards of the glass having cut into his hands and his feet several times. Loki sinks in against the edge of the bed, looking up at his brother tiredly.

“There. Now you have seen the true me.” He mutters, not saying anything else as his mouth sets in a line.

Well good for you,

You look happy and healthy, not me

If you ever cared to ask

“Loki... I had no idea it was this bad brother.” Thor said quietly, sitting down awkwardly next to his brother on the floor. Loki quickly pushed away, not wanting to face anyone’s pity for even a moment.

“Leave me be brother, I keep this disgustingly weak display hidden for a reason.” Loki growled, avoiding his brothers eyes, staring at the broken glass laying at his feet.

Thor stands, not wanting to ignore Loki’s wishes and leaves him with his thoughts, his brows still furrowed in worry as he shuts the already busted door behind him gently.

Loki runs both of his hands through his mess of hair, squeezing as though to rid himself of the memories locked in place, taunting him on an endless loop.

“You can never get her/him/them back. Never ever.” They seemed to whisper in his mind, the sound of silence in the room only amplifying their nonexistent voices.

He smacked his head harshly, trying to push them out, trying to get back to the quiet while tears rolled down his cheeks, wondering once again why he had ever done anything so cruel to you as he had.

“I am so very sorry my darling.” He whispered into the emptiness softly, hugging his knees to his chest.

Never once had he ever felt so broken down or lonely in his existence, never once had he ever felt so much remorse mixed with anger as he did right then, knowing it was too late to even apologize in the first place. A part of him wondered if you felt anything regarding him at all anymore. A deeper part of him wondered how long it would be til you purposely forgot him entirely, all emotions about him disregarded just like that. And he knew if you did he had to live with the fact that he deserved every moment of it.

Good for you

You’re doing great out there without me, baby

Like a damn sociopath

Ignoring the blood drying on his hands and his feet, Loki went into the bathroom and splashed ice cold water onto his face, trying to get a more level head out of it. While the shiver it gave him did wake him up a bit, his mind was just as clouded, just as distracted.

He groaned, slamming his fists down on the edge of the sink, nearly cracking it with the strength used. Suddenly his room felt too solitary and confining. He put on his facade again, cloaking any form of injury or sadness with his powers. He walked into the gardens, nowhere else to stay away from others while not feeling claustrophobic, though sending him back in time for a mere moment.

“You know Loki, you ought to spend more time out here. These plants are so pretty. And the flowers all smell so good. How could you not just run away from everything in the world and hide out here from it?” You asked. He had chuckled, pulling you along the path and deeper through the enchanting maze of greenery until you had reached the bench.

“My mother took me here as a child. She said it was our place, for our escapes from reality. She told me to only show it to those I truly trusted or were truly enchanted with. You are both of those things to me y/n.” He had told you as he held you in his embrace, carefully picking a flower and handing it off to you, the first gift he’d ever given you.

He smiled slightly at the memory, thinking how ironic and poetic that he was now doing exactly as you had suggested that day and running from his responsibilities. He missed the way even the most mundane of things had been so easy for you to enjoy.

He laid in the grass, ignoring the stinging in his feet and the twinges of pain in his palms from his cuts, taking comfort in the memories he had. Those, he was thankful you couldn’t have taken with you. He felt pathetic. He felt weak and vulnerable and all the things he’d never wanted to feel in his life. And even worse, it was because of the one person he thought he could always count on to protect him from those terrible feelings.

He hummed absentmindedly to himself, feeling much more calm with the fresh air and sounds of nature rather than complete silence. He still didn’t feel quite like himself but he was unsure if he ever would again anyway. At least now he felt somewhat in control of his own mind.

I’ve lost my mind

I’ve spent the night

Crying on the floor of my bathroom

As he watched the sky, Loki thought of you, every mark, scar, line, feature of yours, drawing out your face in his mind, the most memorable moments with you playing like a film sequence. His smile fell a little as this day, his impromptu visit from earlier came to his mind.

Whether he was truly angry at you for leaving wasn’t the question anymore. Not really. The question had more so become whether you’d really loved him at all or if he had fooled himself into believing you did.

He silently decided on the latter, knowing you had too big a heart to ever put anyone through that level of hurt.

Still, he seethed with jealousy thinking of the boy who had been sitting the closest to you in the little coffee shop, the way he had looked at you the same way Loki always had. And it hadn’t seemed to him like you’d been too eager to pull away either, which only made it sting worse.

He closed his eyes in a small show of defeat to no one, knowing you were better off without him around to flip the world upside down for you. Deep, deep down he knew you needed a stability he wasn’t ready to provide yet, though he would never ever admit that to anyone, much less himself.

No, instead he missed holding what was his in his arms, making you feel safe and comfortable like he had for so many years. Anyone’s hands on you other than his made him feel a blind rage even on his best day and right then it was the worst day he’d ever faced, making the anger spread like wildfire through him.

The image stood at a standstill in his brain and he convinced himself that one way or another, he had to get you back to him.

But you’re so unaffected, I really don’t get it

But I guess good for you

Well good for you, I guess you moved on really easily

———————————————————————

Tagging: @peachybaes , @wolfish-trickster and @writinguntilmyheartgivesout (thank you guys for the support on White horse, you have no idea how ecstatic they made me, my heart was very happy, I appreciate you, and all my other readers 💖💖)

#imagine #imagines #fanfic #fanfiction #marvel imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #loki laufeyson imagine #marvel loki #mcu loki #loki odinson #loki x you #loki imagine #loki x reader #loki of asgard #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #Loki #loki angst #marvel fanfiction #marvel cinematic universe #marvel fic #marvel angst #avengers #avengers fic #avengers fanfiction #avengers angst #fanfic angst #angst #angst fic

[libraryofloveletters]

ANOTHER LUKE REQUEST YES Luke x reader, y/n has always been feeling insecure about herself, mostly the way her body looks. She compares herself too much to the others; Luke notices it, and when they get home or/ are in a room of the office, he talks to her about it and begins telling her how beautiful she is, and aft they kiss, extrA fluff

Beautiful 

Luke Alvez X Reader 

Warnings: Fem!reader, insecurity, negative thoughts about body image, mentions of being shot, cm level of violence, mentions of alcohol and being drunk, cursing, arguing (kinda?) and crying.

Category: Angst/Fluff

Word Count: 2.7k

Author’s Note: thank you to @luke-alvez for her help :) side note, I love JJ, she was just the first person that came to head for this fic. Also, just before you go any further, you’re all beautiful <3 

-----

Flipping through the photo album, you couldn't help but feel a bit uncertain of yourself. It was an album of your relationship with Luke, there were pictures from your first date, when he asked you to be his girlfriend, a picture from each date, and a few pictures of you, him and the team. 

You got off the bed, shutting the album and returning it to its rightful place on the shelf. You stood in front of the mirror with your shirt lifted to your chest. The women you worked with were beautiful, there was no denying that and you looked nothing like them. 

There was a scar on the side of your stomach from when you got shot, a few bumps and bruises that never healed right, you had normal stomach with some love handles and it never seemed to bother you until recently. You had always viewed yourself as “average” nothing above nor nothing under. 

You stood there, your fingers tracing over the scar. You hadn’t noticed that Luke got home until he walked into the room. 

“What are you doing baby?” he asked as he walked over, his arms wrapping around your waist as his chin rested on your shoulder. You smiled at him in the mirror, “nothing love” He noticed your hand on your scar, his fingers tracing over it. 

“I like this” he mumbled into the side of your neck. 

“Why?”

“Reminds me of how strong you are” he pressed a kiss into your neck. 

--- 

You sat in the conference room with Matt when you heard Luke’s laugh. You looked over your shoulder and the smile dropped from your face when he walked in walking with JJ. He flashed you a smile and kept talking with JJ. 

What does she have that you don’t? She’s skinny and blonde and more skilled than you. Maybe, she’s his type, clearly she makes him laugh and she’s-

“Y/n ? Hello? Y/n?” Matt waved his hands in front of your face, you blinked. “Yeah, what's up Matt ?” his brows furrowed, you can see his brain turning in his pretty head. You shook your head, “I just zoned out. What's up?” He turned back to the board and pointed to the map, he began explaining where the connection between the locations the unsub had been. 

You couldn’t help but wander back to the thought of what she had and what you didn't. You brushed it off and turned your attention back to Matt. Emily came in with Spencer, they had Penelope on the phone. You took a look around the table, Matt was off by the board, Spencer and Emily stood beside each other while Tara flipped through the crime scene photos with Rossi and Luke stood behind JJ’s chair with his arms resting on the back of her chair. 

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. The slight jealous feeling subsided, but the insecurity rolled in. The recurring thought of “what does she have and I don’t” came back. Turns out Penelope’s lead was a bust so Emily sent everyone back to the hotel so you could all get some rest. 

You got a ride with Matt, Luke waited for Spencer and JJ. You and Matt walked into the hotel together. He called for you as you got to your door, 

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Yeah, I'm good Matt” 

“I'm down the hall if you want to talk, okay ?”

“Thanks” you smiled at him and walked into your room. You fell face first into the mattress, groaning. You laid there for a few minutes before the room to your room unlocked, the laughter of JJ and Luke filled your ears once again. 

“Hey baby” Luke smiled at you when he shut the door.

“What took so long?” you rolled over to look at him. 

He sat on the chair at the little table, “we stopped for something to eat. I figured you and Matt stopped so I didn’t bring anything.” you nodded, you didn't stop for food nor were you hungry but he still could have brought something. 

He moved over to the bed and sat beside you. His hand ran up and down your leg. “You okay? you were a little quiet today” he looks over at you, you get up off the bed and walk towards the bathroom. His hand grabs yours, 

“Why are you so cold?” 

“Because I'm cold. I’m going to take a shower” 

“Maybe I could join you ?” he stands up, following you to the bathroom. 

“No thanks” shutting the door and turning the lock. 

With your back against the door, you slid down to the floor. Your knees curled up to your chest and a feeling of heaviness set in. You wanted to talk to Luke but at the same time, it seemed stupid to be jealous of him and JJ. She was married after all, wasn’t she? 

The tears fell down your face, you tried to steady your breathing. On the other side of the door, sat Luke with his back against the door and his head in his hands. 

---

A thud and a string of curse words is what you woke up too. Luke was hunched over, his face twisted into a painful expression.

“Are you okay ?”  

“Yeah I stubbed my toe” 

“Oh” 

Rolling out of bed, you headed to the bathroom to get ready. During your time in the bathroom, the door to your room opened and then shut. You stuck your head out of the bathroom to find an empty room, Luke had left without you. After you got dressed, you left the room in search of Luke. Matt was stepping out of his room as you walked down the hallway. 

“L/n! need a ride ?” 

“Uh, I'm not sure. Have you seen Luke ?” 

“He left with JJ a while ago, he stopped in here to get Spencer. I told them to go ahead without me” 

“Huh, I guess I do need a ride then” 

When you arrived at the station, you saw Luke and JJ stepping outside. “Hey” JJ smiled at you and Matt. “Where are you guys headed?” Matt asked them, “Garcia has an address so we decided to check it out” Matt stood and talked with them for a minute, you headed inside not wanting to hear them talk about whatever it was they were talking about. 

“Morning y/n” Spencer smiled at you on your way in. “Hey Spence” you took a seat at the table, “where are we at with the motive ?” you took a sip of coffee from a cup that had Luke’s name on it. 

“Well, it seems to be a white male in his 20s. Unhealthy obsession with women, mostly coddled by his mother and hatred for men, probably abusive father or a boyfriend for his mother’s.” Spencer spoke while he looked over the photos pinned to the board.

“He’s angry with his mother. Probably for not standing up for him, you can tell by the overkill but he also took his time afterwards, he has remorse” you spoke as you flipped through the autopsy report.

“I thought so too. He cleaned her wounds, got rid of the blood and changed her clothes before wrapping her in a sheet and leaving her on the bed. The men are shot in the head and tossed aside” 

“Yeah. Oh, where did Penelope send Luke and JJ?” you asked Spencer 

“The unsub’s mother's house. He’s speeding up, Tara think she’s going to be his next target” 

You and Spencer worked in silence, taking a few calls from Penelope and arranging for the patrol officers to reach the house for backup. You and Spencer were cleared to fly but not for active duty since you both got caught in a house explosion during the last case. You both needed to take it easy and not overexert yourselves. 

Soon enough, everyone started to arrive back at the station and of course, Luke and JJ are right beside each other. Emily informed you and Spencer that the unsub had shot himself. It was quiet in the conference room, the rustling of papers was the only sound. Emily suggested that everyone head back to the hotel and get some rest, and that she'll see you all for dinner. 

Luke headed back with Spencer, Emily, JJ and Tara, leaving you and Matt at the station. Matt was on the phone with Kristy and you were putting the last of the papers in the boxes. 

“I should be home tomorrow” Matt tells her  

“Mhm sounds good, I love you” Kristy says over the phone 

“I love you too” and the line goes silent.

“That’s sweet” you smile at him, he chuckles. “So are you and Luke” you raise your eyebrows and give him a tight lipped smile, “yeah, me and Luke” 

“Let me drive, you drove yesterday and this morning” you waited for him to give you the keys 

“Promise not to kill me?” he chuckled before throwing the keys to you 

“Haha, very funny Simmons, get in the car” 

The drive back was the most normal you’ve felt this whole case. You and Matt talked, he was telling you about the kids and what he was thinking of getting Kristy for her birthday. You enjoyed Matt’s company, he was like a brother to you, he always had your back. The two of you got back in time for dinner, meeting everyone in the lobby. 

---

“I think I'm gonna head back now” you smiled at them. 

“You’re sure you don’t want to join us for drinks ?” Tara asked you, her hand on your shoulder, you nodded. 

Heading towards the hotel, you felt a hand grab your arm. Luke was behind you.

“You okay?” 

“Just tired” you lied to him. 

He let you go, no questions asked. You watched him jog back to the group before heading into the hotel. 

--

12:36am, the clock read as Luke tumbled into the room. 

“Luke ?” you sat up, Luke stumbled towards you. “Are you drunk?” you shouldn’t have even asked, you could smell the alcohol on him. 

“What’s your problem ?” he mumbled as he fell onto the bed. 

You stood up, “What do you mean?” 

“You’ve been grumpy this whole case. You barely talked to me the whole time we’ve been here. You locked me out of the bathroom. You didn’t cuddle me last night” he pouted as he sat up. 

“Luke you’re drunk. Go to bed” you weren't in the mood to discuss why you’ve been upset with Luke, especially with a drunk Luke. 

“Y/n, c’mon. What’s wrong ? and I’m not drunk, I'm tipsy” he rubbed his eyes, looking up at you. 

“We’ll talk when we get home” you muttered as you tried to get him back into bed 

“No. I want to talk now” he stood up.

The tension in the room was heavy, it was very clear that something was wrong but neither of you said anything. His hand reached up to cradle your face but you pulled away. “Why won’t you let me touch you?” his eyebrows furrowed and head slightly bent to the right. 

“Why don’t you go touch JJ instead?” you uttered, looking away from him. You hadn’t meant to say it but it slipped out of your mouth. 

“Is that why you’ve been upset ? You’re jealous of JJ ?” his finger pulled your chin towards him, forcing you to look at him. Once again, you pulled away. 

“Did I say I was jealous ?” 

He shook his head. 

“Then don’t assume that I am” 

“y/n, wait I'm-” he started, you scoffed. “Save it. I don’t care” you picked up your bag and walked out of the room. It was nearly 1am and you had just stormed out of your room. Maybe not the smartest idea but it is what it is. 

---- 

The entire flight back, you didn’t speak to Luke. You sat beside Tara, your head leaning on her shoulder, in and out of sleep. You took a ride with her back to the apartment, still avoiding Luke. 

She pulled up in front of the building. “Hey,” she rested her hand on yours before you got out. 

“I don't know what’s going on between you and Luke, but if you need to talk or have a drink or just get out of the apartment, I’m just a phone call away. Okay?” 

You smiled at her and nodded, “Thanks, thanks for the ride too. Text me so I know you got home” you hopped out of the car and walked up to the apartment. 

The moment the door opened, you were overwhelmed with tears. Your back hit the wall as you slid down to the floor. The memories of the last week started flooding even no matter how much you tried to push them away. 

He spent every minute with her, thought you were jealous of her. Maybe you are, maybe she’s what he wants and he just settled for you because he couldn't have her. Maybe you aren’t enough. 

Luke crouched down in front of you and placed his hands on your cheeks. You hadn't heard the door unlock or Luke come in. 

“Baby, talk to me. What’s going on ? Are you okay ? You hurt?” his eyes moved up and down your body, his brows furrowed. He tried to figure out what was happening. 

“Am I not enough ?” you managed to say between tears and sniffles, his eyes never left your face. You continued to speak, 

“Is she what you want ? but you can’t have her so you’re with me? It’s okay if I'm your second choice, I understand. I’m not skinny or blonde or pretty or whatever it is you see in Jen-” he put his finger on your lips. 

“Stop that, now. You’re my first choice, you always have been and you always will be. There’s no one in the world that I rather be with, you understand me? JJ and I are just friends, nothing more. I'm sorry if I made you feel like I was interested in her because I promise you, I'm not.” his hand rested on yours, you didn't say anything to him. 

“Come on” He stood up, his hand stretched out, waiting for you. You took his hand, walking with him as he led you to the bedroom. He walked you over to the mirror, he was standing behind you. His fingers fidgeted with the hem of your shirt, “can I ?” you nodded as he unbuttoned your shirt. 

“Can I show you how I see you?” 

Giving him a hum, he took the hair tie out of your hair and ran his fingers through your hair. His fingers trailed down your arms and to your side, making their way to rest on your stomach. Luke planted small kisses along your shoulder, your eyes meeting his in the mirror. 

“This is how I see you. You’re beautiful and so is everything that comes with you. I don’t need you to be blonde or skinny or whatever else is out there. I need you to be you.”

You turned around to face him, his hands now on your waist. “Do you really mean that ?” you say quietly. 

“Of course I do, now will you let me show you how beautiful you are ?” 

Luke pulled you closer to him, kissing you softly. There was no rush or not a thing in the world that could take him from you right now. 

The only thing that matter to him was you, his beautiful girl. 

#luke alvez #ssa luke alvez #luke alvez x you #luke alvez x reader #luke alvez x y/n #luke alvez oneshot #luke alvez imagine #cm #cm imagine #cm imagines #cm oneshot #cm fanfic #criminal minds #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds oneshot #criminal minds fanfiction

[missinghan]

to my youth ⤖ lee felix

❖ genre : summer au; high school au; fluff

❖ word count : 11,6k.

❖ warning : explicit language, slow burn

❖ summary : it is official that life hates you because not only was your first few days of summer ruined by a stupid field trip, but things also got somewhat freaky… whatever kind of ‘freaky’ you’re thinking about.

❖ note : i know i said i’m ‘experimenting’ with new stuff but guess who’s back with another mediocre, not-that-well-written mess of a domestic au; please (kindly) yell at me to dabble into a new genre after bearing through this fic- happy reading!

one.

The echoes of your summer days remain as flowers immune to the winter chill, they say.

You’re not entirely sure who even fathomed their time and effort to come up with that statement but from your point of view, those flowers would most likely have either died out from the summer heat or withered horrendously because of the arbitrary showers of rain. Or you’re the only one who doesn’t have the luxury to see life through a rose-colored lens.

Because the first thing that comes to mind for you is the bucket of ice-cream and a YouTube OG that you’ve ceased to finish since finals started two weeks ago. The bell rings, pens down, everyone pours out of the classroom after handing in their exam papers. No one really bothers to check up on each other’s answers anymore; the last subject for today was AP Psych and you don’t know about them but you honestly can’t care any less thereafter cramming the entirety of five chapters. 

Sprinting down the staircase, you easily spot Felix amongst the midst of drowsy high school students for the bright color of his hair. He truly believes that if he slaps enough hair essence and coconut oil on his head four times a week, his hair won’t feel like straws when he changes it every other three weeks. But it’s only a matter of time before balding catches up to him, he’ll learn eventually.

“Please don’t tell me that you left your keys in class,” you sigh upon the sight of him fumbling with his folders and textbooks while trying to open his locker in vain. Just thinking about walking all the way back to the third floor makes you want to use your backpack as a pillow and take a nice nap in the middle of the hallway.

“Gee, Y/N,” Felix makes a face to not show the sense of relief washing over him when he locks eyes with you. “Who do you take me as? A clumsy person?”

“No, just a dumbass.” You coldly snatch a slipping book from his arms before turning to twist the disc in the combination of your birthday until the lock clicks, shaking the shackle off to swing his locker open. It’s a silent tradition that you both set each other’s birthday as your locker’s combination since elementary school; it started out as a stupid joke at first but neither of you really bothered to change it. 

“Why the hell would you put your keys in the locker?” you widen your eyes in disbelief as he grabs the bright yellow Spongebob plushie to collect his keys with a shit-eating grin

“My alarm didn’t go off today, so I was running a little late,” he defends himself while dumping everything out of his backpack, hugging an empty water bottle to his side. 

You throw a wave at a very tired Hyunjin walking side by side with Seungmin on his right and Jisung skipping happily towards your direction. Seungmin looks exceptionally moody today, you pray he didn’t mess up an easy question to take it out on all of you later in the car. “Bet you were staying up late to play Overwatch with Chan.” 

Felix manages to grin stiffly at your comment, turning on his heels and trudges onto the school’s parking lot. “Fine, walk home.” 

“Hey, you forgot to lock this!” you pull his steps into a halt by making a grab for his hand, utterly oblivious at how his cheeks flare up with a bright shade of red at your touch. Or out of embarrassment. Whatever, same thing. 

Felix might be a better driver than you, but he’d be fired ten seconds into the job of a babysitter.

With that being said, when Jeongin decides it’s a good idea to cheer a passive-aggressive, post-exams Seungmin up with a carton of strawberry milk and then proceeds to get lost in his own school, the very same school he’s been attending for who knows how long, you’re the one who manually pulls his ass back into Mrs. Lee’s Jeep within ten minutes. 

And Seungmin has already fallen asleep by the time Jeongin’s back, so now he’s the passive-aggressive one while sipping on the milk bitterly. Either way, this is why you headcount although there are only six of you after Changbin starts getting busy with his college applications. 

“What took you so long?” Jisung looks up from his phone the moment you climb into the passenger’s seat, clicking in your seatbelt (drive safe, kids). 

You immediately feel the need to snap a photo of Jeongin accidentally breaking the cafeteria’s door with the staff running towards him in a panic. They’re more scared for his life than the door itself and that’s… sweet to say the least but with the way that the embarrassed boy is glaring at you through the rear-view mirror, you decide to keep your lips sealed. 

“It’s getting dark so all hallways start to look the same, you genius.”

Jisung momentarily sticks his tongue out at you. “God, you’re so rude to me. You’d never talk to Felix like that.”

“Because,” you drawl. “Lix is a pure-hearted angel descended from the realms of Heaven. Whereas, even Lucifer would see you as an eyesore in hell.”

“See! You’re doing it again!” Jisung points a finger at you in accusation, jumping up and down in his seat but no one really cares. It’s not like you’re speaking any false facts. “Stop bullying me!”

Seungmin shifts his body a little, nose scrunched up at the noises that wake him right up. “Jisung,” he warns his friend without opening his eyes. “Sit the fuck down, you have five seconds.”

Felix smirks when Jisung immediately cowers, slumping and leaning himself against Hyunjin in utter defeat. He learned not to mess with Seungmin after throwing a wallet at him on impulse. “Jealous much, Han?” 

“Nah, she’s all yours bro,” Jisung waves it off tiredly; bickering and making fun of Felix’s gigantic crush on you is too much for his brain to process today. He can really use a long, solid twelve-hour summer hibernation after getting home. 

The statement prompts Felix to look over at you when there’s a red light—the same exact moment as you stop staring at the bakery from across the road to lock eyes with him. There’s a little spark igniting at the pit of his stomach, stirring up butterflies inside his rib cage. But he snaps out of it after seeing you raise a brow at him, implying a silent ‘what?’ before turning away again. Felix has always been the type to stare so you don’t bother to think about it too much. 

The problem is: he only stares at you that way. 

A shade of coral creeps its way up to his cheeks, his gaze averting back on the roads when the light turns green. As Felix tries to calm the erratic tempo of his heartbeat, he also thinks about how much time he’d have left to confess before high school is over and everyone takes their own different paths. Then again, the future is far too blurry for him to make out anything and the thought of changes petrifies him a bit too much. 

Felix wishes to hold your hand until the very end but he’s a little scared...because what if you never wanted to be with him in the first place?

two.

Your brother has one talent, and that’s his ability to irritate the living daylight out of you even when he’s practically on the other side of the planet.

Minho (un)fortunately finished his finals with flying colors, and inevitably, you’re the first victim to receive a series of texts that consisted of nothing but self-indulgent, excessive bragging. Basically, he’s allowed to do whatever slash go wherever for a good three weeks before his summer internship begins, dragging his dumb ass back to hell—where he rightfully belongs. 

He’s probably chomping on a terribly unhealthy amount of pizza, pretzels, and any type of New York street food that you can name from the top of your head. It’s not like he’s paying for them anyway since Chan doesn’t allow people to touch their wallets if they happen to eat out with him. 

Your phone vibrates obnoxiously on your desk, the judder slightly muffled because it’s lying on top of your wide-open psych textbook. You haven’t bothered with cleaning up yet; finals only ended yesterday and you decide that you won’t touch anything until the disarray starts to scrape against your nerves. 

Side note: you’ve specifically told everyone not to call you three consecutive days after finals because yes, you’re that much of a loner, and yes, your stamina level for tolerating human interaction is awfully low. 

Second side note: no one ever listens. 

“Good morning, this is Lee Minho’s personal bullshit pail,” you mumble after your thumb swipes against the screen to pick up, your limbs curled up on the floor. “How can I possibly help you today?” Your morning voice isn’t necessarily threatening but rather scary; according to what Minho claimed, it sounds identical to that creepy girl from The Grudge so he groans aloud, his voice suddenly going out of focus on the other line from pulling his phone away.

“Jesus Christ are you still in your hermit phase after finals?” he questions callously, sounding not at all pleased with the way you greeted him. “Where’s mom and dad? Usually, they would have slammed your ass by now for staying inside like a vampire.”

“Don’t be insufferable, it’s only like…” you trail off while bending forward to take a good look at the little Sumiko Gurashi alarm on your bookshelf that Felix gave you during middle school. “Nine thirty-something and they’re at the park to exercise, duh- why do you care?”

Your brother almost sings on the phone, “Because you’re my little baby sister-” And this prompts you to pull the device away for the sake of your poor ear. It doesn’t help when you’re already surrounded by a group full of obnoxiously loud individuals on a daily basis. Not trying to call anyone out but Han Jisung is at the top of the list, his name in bold, capital letters being circled and underlined multiple times with a red marker.

“Who do I gotta kill to sleep in on a dreadful Sunday morning as any normal, cranky, antisocial high school student would?” you deadpan and rub the bridge of your nose dreadfully. 

“I don’t know, go murder Jisung or something.” Honestly, that’s tempting… but no.

You can physically see the smug smile on his face right now, simpering in delight at your imminent misery. He knows goddamn well about your relationship with sleeping schedules and that’s the perfect excuse for him to ruin those little specks of time when your brain cells are getting an actual break. 

These are also the times when you wish phones don’t fucking exist. 

“By the way, are you gonna go on the field trip tomorrow?” 

This question wakes you up almost completely because your eyes are now wide as a fish’s out of water, your hand automatically putting him on speaker before digging through the folders inside your backpack. What field trip? No one said anything about a field trip. And who thought it’s a good idea to force some worn-out, post-exams, sleep-deprived students into a field trip right after finals?

Minho hums coyly when the only response he’s getting is the rustling sound from your backpack, “Hmm, see what I meant there, little sis? Oh, the downside of living under a rock at its finest.” He doesn’t have to be here for you to fully picture the way that his lips curl up, dark brows wiggling whenever he’s right about something. Your brother wins most of the time against other people but overtaking you is an entirely different story.

“Oh screw off and go buy yourself a sense of humor.”

“Don’t be so mopey, isn’t Felix gonna be there?”

“What does Felix have to do with this?” you grit after managing to pull out a piece of paper from the very back, buried under countless of your essays. And it reads ‘field trip’ in caps at the top with tomorrow’s date right beneath. The trip lasts for three days, you’re going camping with the grizzly bears for three days—a total nightmare, basically. 

“Pfft, you’re actually dense for someone with a sparkly report card,” he sneers. “That kid has been crushing on you since elementary school. Are the signals that fucked up?”

“You mean when I accidentally spilled orange juice over his head? Sure, bet that’s why he’s so head over heels for me,” you snicker, unfazed by these kinds of statements. Minho only knows Felix because he was the president of your school's dance club and you fully believe that your brother is simply trying to mess with your malfunctioning, cranky mindset. 

“I fucking beg to differ, he always stares at you like you’re the love of his life, even when you stupidly poked yourself with a needle,” Minho announces as if he’s a love expert, tsk, amateur. “He might just confess during the trip, who knows? Campfire flickering. Sharing the same s’mores. Surrounded by nature. That sounds romantically ideal to me for a confession.”

He’s visioning everything like a terrible cliché film where two high schoolers stubbornly deny their feelings for each other until they start noticing how cute the other person is while magically being forced to be alone together. The worst kind of high school movie—which is also almost every high school movie. And you best believe that you’d a hundred percent kick your brother’s ass off that director’s chair because people live and breathe for this kind of overused entertainment. Tragic. 

“Alright, fuck this, I’m out-“

“Wait!” Minho exclaims out of nowhere, almost blowing up your eardrums. “Are you trying to get rid of me?”

You swear you’re rolling your eyes so hard, they’re about to fall out of their respective sockets. “Well, obviously,” you put the piece of paper down with a sigh, contemplating ways to minimize the amount of socializing in the upcoming three days. “Haven’t you bothered me enough? No?”

“You can’t leave me like this,” he whines in an annoyingly high-pitched voice that sends chills down your spine. 

“You need me, we’re connected.” 

He sounds like a whack version of Minnie Mouse for a second there, the kind of plushie that looks cute but with disturbingly creepy voice audio; no parents would let their children go near that aisle. 

You yawn as if there’s no tomorrow, stretching your limbs tiredly. “What I need is for you to shut the fuck up and leave me alone so I can go on my merry way to pick up snacks for this stupid field trip,” you utter lifelessly. 

“You hurt my feelings,” Minho pretends to clutch onto his chest and lets out a dramatic gasp, his voice doused in pure sarcasm. “What a heartbreaker, Y/N.” Said the one who always keeps his apathetic front up like a fortress’ wall and tosses every single love letter on Valentine’s Day into the recycling bin, handing the chocolate out to his classmates like he’s giving leftover vegetables to his least favorite relatives.

“Oh, I can tell,” you reply with fake enthusiasm and mock empathy. “You know how I can tell?”

“Do not finish th-”

“Cause we’re connected.” With that you hang up, slamming your phone harshly onto the surface of your textbook. 

three. 

You might love your room a little too much, it’s getting somewhat unhealthy.

It was furnished with a rather meager budget after your family moved out of your hometown when you stepped into elementary school. Things stay the same, well, most of it as time passes by you unknowingly. Your sad bookcase used to exist for one sole purpose—carrying countless books and plushies has now been upgraded with too many polaroids of your dumb group of friends, a neatly framed photo of Class of 2020 and two trophies that don’t even belong to you since Minho ran out of space as he kept participating in random dance competitions. 

The morning beams find their way through your white curtains and stain your walls with patches of yellow, eventually bugging your vision until you successfully convince yourself to either 1) wake up and get ready for school or 2) lazily stride across your room to shut the blinds completely so you can head back to bed. It’s summer… so option one is temporarily non-existent for a solid three months. 

Hey, you’re just simply making up for those all-nighters with a new cup of coffee every two hours.

Speaking of your bed, it’s soft but takes up so much space to the point that Hyunjin keeps complaining about not having enough room for his legs when he’s sprawled across the floor with Jisung, vigorously focusing on a presentation’s outline. Seungmin calls you lame for not throwing away your childhood plushies and letting them hog at least one-third of your bed, but Felix doesn’t mind since he always needs something to hug. All the more reasons why you can only trust Felix.

You might miss having those idiots being loud and invading your personal space...maybe.

Your phone rings for the second time that morning when you’re walking downstairs, shoving your keys into your pocket and grabbing a protein bar on the counter. “I’m not in the mood for your bullshit right now, Minho,” you bark into the device, chewing on your breakfast aggressively, not bothering to look at the caller’s ID.

The closest convenience store is only twenty minutes away from your house but there’s a sticky note on the fridge from your mom, reminding you that she needs eggs to bake cupcakes for her company’s twentieth anniversary while your dad is running low on his Red Bulls. Basically, you’re in distress. It’s not like your dad should be inhaling those sugary drinks on a daily basis and your mom can just buy premade goods from the bakery. But there are more options for snacks at the supermarket…

“Y/N, the fuck?” The response of a voice as deep as the Pacific ocean almost makes you choke on air. “Did I wake you up or something?” Felix sounds flabbergasted on the other line, slightly taken aback. You almost feel bad because he’s the only sweetheart in your chaotic squad (besides Chan, obvi) except when he stays up late gaming with Hyunjin, pleading for your notes the next morning with puppy eyes.

“No, Minho did,” you grumble before tossing the wrapping into a bin.

“You don’t say,” Felix replies flatly, but his voice soon grows merry again after pushing the topic of your brother aside. “Oh, and I’m coming over to return your earphones, wanna grab breakfast?”

He practically lives ten minutes away from you, sees you almost every day even if it’s the weekend since he can’t stay in the same house with his sisters for too long and puts you on FaceTime every night to prevent himself from slacking off on assignments. The only time he didn’t get to see you for a week straight was when he visited Australia and accidentally dropped his phone into the ocean. It was a rough week without you nagging him for doing something stupid. Fundamentally, he’s merely making up more excuses to spend time with you after finals.

Chuckling, “Only if you’re treating me, I’m about to go broke from buying snacks for our field trip tomorrow.” you say breezily. 

And you’re only telling him that because he might just pay for your snacks as well since Felix Lee eats freshly grilled steak and mashed potato for breakfast. Baffling, absolutely. Plus, he works at a boba shop every summer either way and he would never hesitate to spend the entirety of his paycheck on any of his close friends. Irrelevant but the point is: you kinda don’t wanna go out alone today.

Or you’re just in the mood to go with Felix. That’s a useless statement since you both see each other at least ten out of twenty-four hours per day. 

“By the way, you know what I just realized?” Felix smacks his palm on his forehead. “This is our last field trip, like ever.”

Walking over to the rack of shoes down the hallway, you let out a large exhale. “That’s unfortunate on your behalf. I, on the other hand, don’t have a problem with that,” you tell him with zero consideration, your brain cells too busy picking out a pair of shoes to process the five basic steps to empathize with another human being. 

“No,” he emphasizes helplessly. “I meant, it’s like our last high school field trip. We’re graduating next year, no time to sleep with the grizzly bears again.”

You can only manage to utter, “Oh.” Shit, college is right around the corners. 

“Jesus fucking Christ what the hell am I supposed to do after high school? Stay here? Go abroad? Wait, aren’t applications for going abroad supposed to be turned in a year beforehand? Why are you only telling me this now!?” 

Felix laughs wholeheartedly through the phone, amused at your sudden outburst. “Y/N, calm down. You’re going to college, not prison,” he brushes it off casually but in a way, college is technically prison. Slaving over a degree while working part-time jobs, chasing time relentlessly like you’re driving in the middle of a foggy night with one headlight out. And you’re forced to open up with more strangers. It’s terrifying, actually terrifying. And you’re not the type to be easily terrified. 

Now come to think about it, you don’t get why you were so pressed about it five seconds ago. It’s a good opportunity not to leech off your parents as much, like dabbling, taking one baby step at a time into adulthood. After that, you’ll graduate again, probably settle somewhere with an adequate job and find someone, starting to think about having ki-

Hold up, you’re going too far. You’re barely a senior. 

“I guess we’ll just have to make the most out of this summer,” Felix’s voice snaps you back to the surface of Earth faster than a tick of a clock. “We’re outside, by the way. Open up.”

That fast? Furrowing your brows, you hang up to slip into a pair of sneakers before sprinting to the front door. Wait, your hand freezes as it grazes the doorknob. We?

Not again. 

“Why the fuck..” you cracks a lifelessly crooked smile after pushing the door wide open. “..are you here?” It’s only ten in the morning, and you don’t think you should be screaming at the top of your lungs to be jumped on by the whole neighborhood.

Felix takes a step back, a little scared for his life. “Uhh, to return your earphones?”

“No, no,” you run a hand through your hair tiredly. Just when you thought this day was gonna be peaceful. “I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about them. Since when was this an agreement? How dare-“

“Why yes, I missed you too!” Jisung exclaims like the little shit he is, throwing an arm over your neck to ruffle your hair. No one ruffles your hair without getting their ass slammed- except for Minho. “Why the long face? Let me guess, until this exact second, you thought there’s a fucking squirrel, a lama, a dog, and a kitten standing at your front porch? No, it’s us, your Forever BFFs.” He’s one of the reasons why you refuse to understand the humans’ language sometimes.

With a harsh shove from you, Jisung staggers backward only for Hyunjin to prevent him from rolling like a ball in the middle of your neighborhood. “One more word and I’m telling the whole class who your crush is,” you threaten, earning an involuntary snort from Seungmin. 

“I hate to admit this, but she might actually say yes if he makes the first move.”

Hyunjin supplies unconstructively, “That’s why he didn’t ask.”

“You know what, Hwang,” Felix says with a smirk tugging at his lips, bumping his fist against Hyunjin’s without turning his head. 

“Oh screw all of you.” Jisung’s getting all the attention he wanted this early in the morning yet he still feels like a loser. Perhaps he should try shutting up once in a while. 

four.

“Thanks for giving me a ride, uncle, you really didn’t have to,” Felix says generously from your dad’s back seats, scratching the nape of his neck as though this is the first time he’s ever shared a ride with you. 

He’s too humble sometimes you just want to smack him across the face with a pillow to stop being so formal with your dad. Heck, Felix downright called him ‘dad’ by accident once during a Christmas dinner back in middle school and your dad even encouraged him to keep addressing him like that. 

Not to mention, Felix is chomping on a turkey sandwich that your mom made this morning specifically for him after finding out that his parents are currently out of town and there's nothing but ramen in the cabinet. God forbids her to starve the same kid who helped your dad fix his bumper. So really, he should be expecting these things by now. 

“Oh it’s not a big deal, you’re too nice,” your dad laughs as he pulls over to your school’s front gate, careful not to run into that one really tall, ugly tree. You’re lowkey paranoid that people might die if it collapses during a storm or something. “Perhaps you can return the favor by getting a drink with me sometimes.”

Felix blinks numerous times, slightly gobsmacked. “...but I’m not old enough to drink yet.”

“Correct answer.” And you snicker when your dad turns around to toss a wink at your friend’s direction. “Doesn’t mean that I’m forbidding you kids have fun,” he clarifies upon the baffled expression on Felix’s face. “But not too much fun, got it?”

“Okay, okay dad, I’ll see you in three days,” you shake your head before climbing out of the car. “Don’t starve the cats while I’m gone. Oh! And Soonie still needs his lactobacillus-“

Your dad brushes it off with a sheepish smile, “I’ll leave it to your mom, muffin, I can’t even remember which dry food is for which cat. I also don’t think they’ll be starving anytime soon, those little demons are getting quite fat actually since your brother spoils them all the time.” You can only give him a mere eye-roll because as much as he claims to hate having pets, there have been countless times when you caught your dad red-handed trying to tuck the cats into bed in the middle of the night. 

Felix soon catches up with your steps after bidding him farewell, crumpling the sandwich wrapper in his palm. “Wait up, muffin,” he says breathlessly with a few skips, starting to think about not skipping dance practice again this summer before his body gets out of shape. 

“Shut up,” you grumble, followed by a harsh elbow jabbed into his side. Felix grunts in pain, slowing down a little but still tries to walk side by side with you nonetheless. “You don’t deserve that complimentary breakfast, I’m telling mom to cut your portion off next time.” 

“Ah! Come on, muffin! You’re being mean.”

Your biggest fear has inevitably come true—after all those years of erratic mood swings and other weird things puberty puts you through, Felix still makes fun of you for the nickname that your parents came up with on your first day of school. It doesn’t help with the fact that he meets them quite often too. Like four out of seven days a week since your parents love coming over to each other’s house for dinner. 

“Flip that scowl upside down now, will you?” Felix cups your cheeks and squishes them together, attempting to make your smile by tugging at the corners of your lips. “Aren’t you excited about the trip?”

You scoff at him, “Are you even hearing yourself? My entire existence reeks off ‘excitement’ 24/7.” 

“That’s bullshit.”

“I’m not responsible for whatever happens next to your face.”

But when you reach up to peel his hands away, you’re bound to make a grave mistake by looking straight into his eyes. The morning light hits his face at the right angle and it makes him look like a puppy—which you wouldn't mind starting at all day. Although it’s not like you haven’t got a good look at him before, something’s different today. From the way his irises twinkle gently like thousands of celestial bodies to how his freckles scattered across his cheekbones like the remaining bits from a supernova, his full lips with a prominent Cupid’s bow and his cute crooked teeth. 

You know all of these things; perhaps you’ve never put too much thought into them before. Not when you’re constantly facepalming at him for doing stupid TikTok dances and trying to eat a banana with its peel on. But now when you actually acknowledge them, your heart momentarily skips a beat. Or two. 

Doesn’t matter, you hate this feeling either way. 

“Get a room, this is disgusting to watch.” 

Seungmin steps in between you two with his backpack slung over his shoulders, hands resting on his hip like he’s babysitting you and your biological parents don’t pay him enough for this tedious job. But Felix is too busy making sure that his eyes aren’t malfunctioning when he sees a pink tint on your cheeks to focus on whatever nonsense Seungmin is spewing at him. 

“Get on the bus, losers! Y’all are embarrassing me!” Hyunjin yells as he plants a foot onto the bus, trying his best not to be subtle about the fact that all of your classmates have already been seated. 

You can practically see Jisung making weird faces from the window and next to him is a very cranky-looking Jeongin with his earbuds plugged in, deciding not to tolerate any chit-chatting this morning. It’s a shame how the school’s always on a low budget when it comes to transportation; consequently, some random freshmen got squeezed in with your class. 

So you elect to ignore your friend’s questionable behaviors (sometimes you wonder what he’s on to be this zealous at six in the morning) and grabs Felix's hand to climb onto the vehicle before coach Kim kicks your ass for slowing the schedule down. 

As you shuffle down the narrow aisle, you quickly realize there are only two seats left at the very back—basically, you feel a little guilty for not getting a good spot for Felix but he doesn’t seem to mind because he taps you on the shoulder lightly, signaling for you to move.

“Ugh, I wanna go home,” you sigh, slumping into your seat after tucking your backpack neatly on the small compartment above. 

“You’re boring,” Felix comments flatly but he’s partially glad that he got to sit with you instead of some blabberer. “Need this?” Fishing his earphones out of his backpack, he wiggles the banana milk case in front of your face. 

You only nod lazily at the offer, causing him to huff in disbelief before slipping in a side of his AirPods into your ear. You both have pretty similar taste in music so you don’t mind when he puts one of his playlists on random and Fly Me to the Moon bleeds into your eardrums. The soft melody makes you yawn a little, eyelids getting droopy. 

“Tired.” Is the only warning Felix gets before you decide to drop your head onto his shoulders, slipping your arm around his torso comfortably like it’s a pillow. You personally don’t do cuddles but since he’s into those things and smells nice—very fruity, somewhat musky too, you might as well take advantage of that with the hope of sleeping throughout the entire ride. 

“What is wrong with you today?” he asks with glowing cheeks. 

“Shh shh, I’m recharging my battery.”

Felix is a little flustered, to say the least. But instead of complaining about your sudden clinginess, he rests his head on top of yours like second nature, allowing his childhood song to drown out some of the background chatters. 

You should really be clingy more often… though he’s not gonna risk his pearly white teeth by telling you that. 

five. 

Your school actually knows how to manage money in a smart way. Shocker, you know. 

You are thrown off upon hearing that no one needs to worry about the grizzly bears, or wolves (hey, one can never be too careful) because everyone gets to share a log cabin with a maximum of three other people. 

In fact, the camp counselors have confirmed that even though they’re throwing a bunch of inexperienced, dumb high schoolers smacked in the middle of the wilderness, there’s really nothing to do other than boring team-building exercises...and fishing. In other words, the only creature that can somewhat do harm to you is mosquitoes. 

It’s been pouring nonstop when your classmates tried to set up the campfire with coach Kim screaming into their eardrums last night, no wonder those little shit are thriving to make your life more miserable—they’re in their element, reproducing at a terrifying pace. 

“Jesus Christ, Y/N!” 

Hyunjin clutches a hand to his chest in both relief and terror after realizing the curled up figure sitting by the window is just you. He steps inside the cabin completely and flings his wet bangs away from his face, shoving the umbrella in his hand into a stand by the shoe rack. “You look like shit, are you okay?” he furrows his brows, slightly concerned about your eyebags and the way your lips crack from dehydration.

A soulless smile finds its way to your face. “I’m pretty sure ‘shit’ and ‘okay’ aren’t supposed to be in the same sentence but thank you for asking, I appreciate it.”

Here’s another downside to being a homebody: you can’t fucking sleep on any other beds that aren’t yours. And surprisingly that two-hour nap on the bus wasn’t enough to fuel you for the rest of the trip. But lucky you, it’s most likely going to keep raining cats and dogs and trash pandas for the rest of the day. Outdoor activities are no longer mandatory and you can almost hear your non-existent muscles crying in sheer joy. 

“Drink,” Hyunjin sighs at your pathetic state and decides to toss a water bottle in your direction. 

However, all you do is retrieve your limbs deeper into Felix’s fluffy blanket since he refused to use the grey one that’s draped over every bed beforehand. You’re far beyond grateful for that because those fading, questionable-looking stains just scare the crap out of you. And also because the fluffy blanket smells like him; you rest your case.

“You were knocked out for the entire bus ride, so why the hell can’t you fall asleep on a decent bed?” Shaking his head, Hyunjin plops himself onto Jisung’s bed like a potato, accidentally knocking over the neatly folded pile of clothes. He really doesn’t give two flying fucks about the fact that his friend spent an excessive ten minutes to organize his stuff so coach Kim won’t be barging into their cabin with a megaphone at five in the morning again. 

“She can only fall asleep on Felix, that’s why.” You roll your eyes in the bitchiest way possible, not bothering to chuck the abandoned water bottle at the unwanted guest of this terrific conversation. 

Hyunjin almost lets out a shriek when Seungmin jolts up from his bed, hair messy, a leg sticking out from his comforter. “You know, until this exact moment, I thought that you were dead or something.”

“What I’m trying to say is,” Seungmin elaborates as he bends over to reach for his glasses with squinted eyes. “There’s a 99,9% that Felix will make the first move but at the same time, it doesn’t mean the other 0,01% won’t happen so you,” he jabs his index finger towards you. “Better be doing something other than walking around camp like a zombie.”

Hyunjin tilts his head in confusion. “Since when was this even a thing?” You’re this close to have a permanent hand imprint on your forehead for facepalming every two seconds with your idiotic friends around. 

“Uhh, since forever?” Seungmin feels the need to voice out. “Listen, since the day Y/N spilled orange juice on Felix’s favorite shirt, the amount of times they’re forced to be together has risen tremendously. And when their parents found out their families live like ten minutes away from each other, they practically see each other every single day. Even outside of school. They tolerate each other, meaning the dynamic is long-lasting. Their bonding encouraged friendship.” 

“But we’re her friends too?”

A deep breath. “No, their friendship was incited to grow into something bigger, more profound because Felix has a special ‘click’ with Y/N that he doesn’t with us. God, Hyunjin, it’s been what, almost a decade! How could you not see it?” Seungmin says with expressive hands, almost yanking every strand of hair off of his head. It’s too early for this, his brain is about to implode. Hwang Hyunjin being dense just feels like a metaphoric chokehold to him. 

“Y/N,” Hyunjin simply ignores his frustrated friend to look over at you slipping into your sneakers. “You’re being uncharacteristically non-hyperverbal.”

“That’s because she’s about to either shut the door in my face then find Felix or kick my ass and then find Felix,” Seungmin informs with a yawn, and this prompts you to muster a fake smile. 

Oh, I’m fucking livid. 

“You know me too well.”

He questions with heavy irony, “I’m sorry did you just agree with me?”

“Oh no, no, I take that back,” you brush him off. “Is Felix still outside fishing?”

“I think so?” Hyunjin replies while running a hand through his hair in mere distress; Felix’s competitiveness goes a little mayhem sometimes when it comes to Jisung being better than him at something since they’re so close. That’s one of the sole reasons why Felix always manages to maintain his flying GPA because Han Jisung procrastinates like no other but still tops his class every single semester. 

“I didn’t find him at the lake, though, wonder where he went.”

You widen your eyes, somewhat alarmed since it’s almost lunchtime, and Felix Lee never, and you mean never, ever let himself skip a meal. He always gets a nice nap after stuffing his face with enough good food too, so that’s a bonus. But that’s not the point, the point is: you’re starting to get a little worried because he’s been fishing all morning, wandering alone in the wilderness without a camp counselor. 

You’d better not find him sleeping with the fishes. 

six.

Maybe you were right, maybe Felix is a dumbass.

Because listening to his ego and coming back to the lake after breakfast was a horrendous idea. 

It’s such a pity how those weird-looking vehicles have stopped driving around camp the moment it started pouring outside. Heck, he didn’t even bring an umbrella after asking the coach to check today's forecast. 

So tragically, he’s now stuck underneath the canopy of a cafe ensuing coursing his way through the water blizzard and seeking refuge but can’t walk back to his cabin where his cabin-mates are probably having the time of their life drinking hot chocolate and nibbling on hand-picked fruits.

Felix exhales in torment while gazing outside, everything’s completely white-out thanks to droplets of raining streaking the horizon. Perhaps dashing back might be his one solitary option, but shivers soon run up his spine again, reminding him that he’s probably looking like a wet rat—his black Converse sodden, water seeping through the thin fabric of his uniform, numbing his skin. 

Ruffling his wet fringe, Felix’s hand fishes inside his pocket to look for his phone only to realize that it’s not there. “Shit...great..just great, today is my lucky day.” Even if the camp counselors didn’t confiscate all the electronic devices, there wouldn’t be any service in the middle of the woods either. Splendid. 

“Ugh, Y/N,” he groans under his breath. “Why did you let me do this?”

“Shit.”

 “AHH!”

Felix shrieks upon the tiny voice squeaking out from behind him. And he sighs in pure relief to see a little girl standing mere inches away, looking no more than a seven-year-old dressed in a yellow raincoat. “Hey kid,” he chuckles and crouches down to her eye level. “Where are your parents? You’re not supposed to be out here alone when it’s pouring like crazy.” 

And to his dismay, “Shit,” the little girl giggles, finding a new profound interest in the curse word that he accidentally spewed out seconds ago. 

“Shh shh,” Felix frantically places an index finger on his lips while darting his eyes around in terror—he might be sued if her parents found out how their daughter picked up a bad word from some random high schooler. Suddenly he feels bad for his future kids. “No, no, we can’t say that. It’s forbidden. What’s your name?”

“Mina,” she answers cutely and fiddles with the ends of her braids. “Who’s Y/N? Is she your girlfriend?”

Felix chokes on his own saliva. “...no, why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, my dad always calls my mom’s name when he messes things up.”

“What does that have to do with- oh, shit,” he facepalms himself. This kid is going to give him a cardiac arrest any second now. “It doesn’t matter if she’s my girlfriend or not, what matters is I need to get you back to your parents. Do you know where they are right now?”

Mina simply shakes her head with a pout. “Okay, let’s go find them then,” he can’t help but cracks a smile, ruffling her hair endearingly. Most kids would be bawling their eyes out by now knowing that they’ve strayed from their parents; she’s a tough one. 

Felix gently grabs Mina’s hand, biting down on his lower lip as he prays that a cold doesn’t catch up to him tomorrow and ready to dash out of the canopy that’s been keeping him dry for the last hour or two. But then a figure comes into view from afar, holding an umbrella while squinting their eyes through the thick streaks of rain. 

“Y/N..?” he mutters to himself in disbelief when you quickly skip underneath the canopy, collapsing the red umbrella in your hands. Felix recognizes that umbrella anywhere—isn’t that Hyunjin’s? Have you been looking for him? And for how long too?

“Didn’t even think about bringing an umbrella, smartass,” you say with a raised eyebrow. “Oh dear, who do we have here?” Before Felix can defend himself in vain with lame excuses, you’ve already taken your attention off him to stare at the unfamiliar presence. Your intense gaze scares Mina a little, causing the little girl to squeeze Felix’s hand, hiding behind his leg. 

Your friend laughs, patting her little head in reassurance. “Mina, this is Y/N, my classmate. Don’t let her intimidate you.”

“Are you really going to bother with this little one?” you scrunch your nose a bit. “We’re having pork rib soup, by the way, better hurry if you don’t want Han to hog your portion all to himself.”

Felix rolls his eyes at how utterly apathetic you are towards children. If you can get a perfect A in calc then why is it so hard to simply comprehend that every twelve-year-old needs to be returned to their hypothetical parents safely? “What part of ‘a common sense of morality’ can’t you understand?” 

“I don’t want to, actually, sounds like a lot of work,” you hum sarcastically. 

“Your girlfriend is scary,” Mina ensconces herself further behind your friend, officially detecting you as a threat rather than someone who will potentially bring her back to the cabin where her parents are probably flipping the whole place upside down in a panic—which is exactly what you’re planning to do. 

In your defense, you don’t detest kids in general. Only the bratty ones. And Mina is borderline bratty. 

“You know, I can spare her some time, Lost and Found is like..ten minutes away from here.”

“Y/N-” Felix wants to scream at you, rubbing the side of his temple in distress. Imagining you babysitting your neighbor’s newborn last summer with nine bucks per hour, ten hours per day, and five out of seven days per week is one of the few things that constantly keeps him from having a good night's sleep. It baffles him how you haven’t accidentally drowned the infant while giving her a bath. 

Mina gives the side of his jeans a tug, round eyes staring up at him expectantly. “Or we can get juice pops!” she exclaims happily and looks over to you, mustering her best puppy eyes. “Please? I don’t want to be alone..” 

“Twenty seconds ago, you called me scary and now you’re guilt-tripping me?” you crouch down to get a good look at the kid. Bright, innocent brown eyes, cute button nose, and a chipped front tooth—perhaps she’s a little too cute to not get her juice pops. 

Then, “And juice pops too? You evil mad mind genius,” you say after standing up to unfold Hyunjin’s umbrella, swinging it over the top of your head. “That’s extortion, kid, you’re too young for that.”

Felix breaks into a fit of giggles upon seeing you failing at trying to keep a straight face and steps in beside you under the umbrella. His next problem just pops up right then and there—Mina can’t squeeze in considering the umbrella that Hyunjin gave you is solely used for one person. 

“Mina, hop on here,” he decides to get on his knees, permitting the little girl to clumsily climb on his back and eventually plopping herself onto his shoulders. 

“Oh, oh, oh, can you two hold hands?” Mina suggests with a shit-eating grin on her face. This causes Felix’s cheeks to burn with a bright shade of red while you’re too busy throwing daggers at her with your eyes to notice. “My family does this all the time, my dad would carry me on his shoulders and my mom would hold his hand as we walk home after going to the park.”

You and Felix yell simultaneously, “We’re not your parents!!” But that doesn’t seem to scare the little girl. You’re both just encouraging her. 

“Yip yip, horsey, don’t be disobedient now,” she giggles to herself and pulls at a solid patch of Felix’s hair, making you cringe because his hair and scalp have already had enough from his questionable obsession with bright hair colors. 

“Ow! Mina! Stop it! Ow!”

“Okay quit torturing my friend,” you tell her and decide to slip your hand in with Felix’s, intertwining your fingers to secure the grip before showing it to Mina so that she’ll stop before any blood is drawn. “There, we’re holding hands just like your mommy and daddy, you happy?” 

Felix doesn’t say anything even when Mina nods happily, releasing her monstrous grip off his poor scalp. He only lets you tug him away from the canopy of the cafe as he gazes downward, eyes glued to how your hand fits into his perfectly. The sound of rain tapping against the umbrella suddenly bugs him, suffocating him in a way. In other words, it’s really unnatural to think this way about his best friend but he doesn't want you to let go at all. 

Everything seems to move faster when you’re holding onto his hand so certainly. Felix thinks you’re fully aware but try to fight off the voices that are taunting you to just drop it. And truth is, you can care less because your head is now far too fuzzy to focus on anything but the road ahead. 

You pray he doesn’t feel the pounding rhythm from your veins. If your red ears haven’t given it away already. 

seven.

Jisung has weird friends, that’s a fact. And no, you’re not talking about the gang that saved his ass every time he got into trouble aka you plus JeongMinLixJin. You’re talking about those kids from Class 2C that are mutual friends with Changbin.

Because the moment Jisung barges into the cabin and starts babbling nonsense that you can’t comprehend (not that you can comprehend any of his shit on the daily), you know that he just came back from a get together with those sketchy dudes who managed to sneak some booze inside a shampoo bottle.

“Uhm okay, who gave Felix alcohol?” he squints his eyes hard. 

You are more than aware that Jisung is mildly smashed by the way that his cheeks are tinted with a light shade of coral, hiccupping every ten seconds and slightly more clumsy with his feet. He almost tripped over the rug at the front door if it weren’t for Hyunjin who caught him in time so that he wouldn’t break one of his precious teeth. Those painful years of constantly slurping on watery porridge after every dentist appointment to tighten his braces shouldn’t be going down the drain. 

Speaking of bland rice water, that’s all Felix has been fed with after returning to camp because he has no choice. The sickness finally caught up to him as a result of staying outside for too long while still dressed in his rain-soaked uniform. Even under the cotton comforter, he’s radiating heat on the outside but stoically shivering on the inside, his energy level is as diminished as his appetite. 

The nurse said there’s really nothing that can be done but give him some pills and let him ride it out so now Felix’s all curled up in a corner of his bed, cheeks burning flush of fever, coughing and sneezing occasionally. He refuses to be moved to a completely separate cabin because sleeping alone in a confined place knowing that the grizzly bears might be roaming outside your door is quite frightening for a junior in high school. 

“God, what makes you think I’m the batshit drunk one here?” Felix croaks, his voice more hoarse and gruff than usual because every word pains him, his vocal cords pulse in agony at each syllable. And that sentence was probably the longest thing you’ve heard from him since dinner. 

Jisung lets Hyunjin toss him onto his bed, face down, and props himself up on his forearms. “Uhh, have you checked yourself the mirror?” he hiccups, words a bit slurred, palms outstretched in a grabby motion. “Seungmin, water- ow! What the fuck was that!?” 

He rubs the side of his head while babbling incoherently like a fucking five-year-old because Seungmin decided to chuck a water bottle at him. Those years of playing baseball during retreats indeed paid off. 

“I went for the head,” Seungmin looks up from his book calmly, acting innocent. 

Jisung whines and turns to his side, watching as the water bottle rolls back towards him after coming in contact with the wall. “God, I miss Minho. You guys suck,” he takes it before sitting right up but flops himself back down when a pang of pain claws at his temple. Who even allowed him to drink?

“Didn’t he make your high school experience miserable?” Hyunjin laughs, sitting down on the corner of his bed, legs curled into his chest. 

“Hello? That was me,” Seungmin clarifies, he sounds a little offended. “He called me a nerd for studying late at the library for our finals! Our fucking finals! Do you know how insecure my freshman self was? I was so hurt!” 

You cross your arms and mumble, “He’s the same guy who treated you ice-cream after finding out you got a B in physics.”

Hyunjin hums, butting into the topic, “And he made me do fifty push-ups because I unintentionally skipped a day at practice. Our Dance Club really didn’t need a president who effortlessly snatches the Asshole of the Year Award like he’s stealing candies from a kid.”

“Please, you’re practically buddies now,” you scoff. “You always play Mario Kart and rewatch the Avatar series with him, even during midterms!”

“Oh! Oh! Oh!” Jisung suddenly gets on his feet, jumping up and down like a maniac. You’re highly concerned for the bed by the creaking sound that it’s making—sounds just like something straight out of a horror film. “He almost threw a knife at me!”

You’re running out of excuses to defend your stupid brother at this rate. What’s the point in trying anyway? “Han, it was a plastic knife, chill.”

Jisung crawls off his bed to approach you, pinching his thumb and index finger together before shoving them to your face. “I was this close to dying! You try having someone threaten to throw a knife at you during lunch break,” he complains like it’s the end of the world. Truth is, you’ve seen (and experienced) worse things. 

“Minho’s still my brother.”

Staring at you, Jisung looks unimpressed. “He wanted to kill me because I commented on his puffy cheeks that day.”

“He’s adopted.”

The conversation is pulled to a halt right there when Felix does a full-body groan, his head spinning and sweats starting to collect at his hairline. With his mind buzzed like he’s floating, the bickering only adds to the pressure that’s squeezing each of his functioning brain cells. In other words, it feels as though Han Jisung is a fucking hamster going on a marathon across his body, nibbling on his limbs and ears as he’s going through a hangover, his immune system going on a rampage. 

Felix doesn’t even drink. 

“That’s my call for a bedtime story.” You glare at Jisung when he clears his throat while you’re attempting to tuck Felix into bed, pressing your palm against his forehead to check his temperature. It’s not climbing anymore, he should be okay after sweating everything out. 

Hyunjin pulls his friend back onto his bed, locking his limbs in tight before he waddles around and potentially breaks one of those decorative pieces on the bookshelf. “Not to burst your ego, but I don’t think you’re sober enough to give us a good story,” he says unapologetically. 

“Puh-lease,” Jisung lets out the weirdest chuckle at that, wagging his forearm like those Japanese ceramic cat figures that are supposed to bring people good fortune; and Han Jisung is notorious for bringing people anything but good fortune. “They didn’t even have vodka, only Strongbow. That shit is too weak for me.”

You snort involuntarily, “Actually, I think you meant you’re too weak for those bottles of cider.”

“Wow, Y/N, what a snake.”

eight.

The bonfire crackles, flaring up to life when coach Kim tosses a lit matchstick into the pyramid pile of branches and woods. The flame projects long shadows of the trees all round along, swirling and curling in obscure shapes with the high schoolers that each hugs their own cup of hot cocoa, chomping on their marshmallows of choice. 

Glowing embers beneath are colored by the inferno that seems to be moving with the rhythm and melody of the song that they’re all singing along, drumming their feet and bobbing their heads simultaneously. 

“Are you guys sure you don’t want to join them?” Felix says apologetically after sneezing into a piece of tissue, his nose all red and swollen. “I can just… I don’t know, read a book or something.”

When he refers to those oddly colorful and rather bulky-looking books on the shelves, Seungmin immediately stops putting a cookie inside his mouth midway. “Those are called ‘aesthetically useless interior decoration’, Lix. Good luck trying to open those plastic blocks,” he expresses with his hands after stuffing the cookie into his mouth, chewing rather aggressively. 

Felix feels quite bad because, for all he knows, Hyunjin and Seungmin have been planning on going kayaking today and trying out volleyball tomorrow. You’re all going home in two days yet they’ve done nothing but pigging out in pure distress. “Still, it’s a summer camp, you all should be out there having fun, not stuck inside to look after me while tolerating...that,” he quietly looks over at Jisung who just exited the bathroom after splashing his face with some water. 

At least he doesn’t look crazy and homeless now. 

“How are they doing that again?” you join Hyunjin as he rests his head lazily on his forearms, staring outside from the cabin’s window like Rapunzel in an alternative universe where Flynn Rider managed to escape the tower with the crown, leaving her behind longing for civil human interactions in vain. 

“They sing..” he drawls. “And turn their heads to look at each other in the eye.”

You wave it off absentmindedly, falling on your back so now your head is hung upside down from the bed, your arms dangling midair. “Well, that sounds exhausting,” you mumble, ignoring the way that Seungmin is internally judging you. 

Hyunjin sighs, “Never one for sentiment, are you?”

“Easier to let it burn,” you answer flatly, sitting upright when blood starts rushing to your head. 

“Don’t feel bad,” Seungmin immediately forces a smile at Felix. “We’re not really into sitting with a bunch of idiots just to enjoy a mildly decent hot cocoa either way.”

Suddenly the lights go out, and Felix immediately curls himself further into the blanket, a little thrown off. Jisung’s face comes into view out of nowhere when he makes a grab for the oil lamp that no one seems to take notice of, lighting it up with a single match. “C’mon, kids, no bonfire is complete without a good ghost story,” he crosses his legs on the floor happily, still somewhat tipsy so his body is bouncing in excitement with occasional hiccups. 

Hyunjin and Seungmin exchange questionable looks before scrambling to the floor, settling themselves a few solid inches in front of the oil lamp with a sigh while you only shrug at Felix, propping your head onto your hands. Laziness is starting to hold you hostage on Hyunjin’s bed at this rate. 

Seungmin spares Jisung a slight glare, “Better not bullshit us with the same one that you heard at school-”

“No,” Jisung’s lips morph into something similar to a smirk, he looks concerningly confident for someone who’s utterly terrified after watching IT. And now he’s attempting to give his bros who are equally jumpy about everything and anything, you’re excited to see how this goes. “I heard this one from a camp counselor, true story.” You definitely don’t like the sound of that.

At first, the ghost was no more than a chill in the air, a shimmer of mist to the common eyes. Through the heavy rain and fog that seeps through people’s skin, chilling the core of their bones, it slowly came into focus. It wasn’t until the camper found refuge under a canopy of an abandoned café that it congealed into a form—a small child with brilliant round eyes, dressed in white clothing. 

For a moment, all was silent and still. It was as though the camper got hypnotized, feet planted to the ground. Then, he could hear a small lullaby in a cheerful voice. 

“Oranges and Lemons say the bells of St.Clements…” They know how that one ended. 

Suddenly someone blows out the candle, but Jisung’s voice still rings in your eardrums. “When the camper took a step back, the ghost spoke again, this time with the voice almost of a smoker and grin…” You can feel Hyunjin hop back to bed with you in a tick of a clock, holding onto you for dear life with the infrequent whimpers of fear. 

Jisung proceeds to continue, “The grin soon became a snarl, baring teeth like a wolf when it finished the lullaby…”

A muffled silence descends. And, “Have you come to play…?”

“AHHH!!” Felix lets out a petrified shriek, but what confuses you is the sound of Jisung grunting rather in pain. Seungmin sighs in disapproval, flickering the lights on while leaning back against the wall. 

And now before your eyes is a slightly traumatized, feverish Felix with clattering teeth, quivering inside his blanket. Whereas, Jisung is sprawled across the floor, hugging his poor stomach, hacking up lungs. Deserve.

“This is why you don’t give people who can high-kick jump scares, dumbass,” Seungmin comments and crouches down in front of Jisung like his knight in shiny armors, letting a bottle of ointment dangle between his fingers. “Put this on, bet it’s already bruising.”

Hyunjin releases his arms around you and walks towards the freckled boy who looks like he’s about to slip into a coma. “Lix, are you okay?” he knits his brows together, starting to feel somewhat concerned. 

Felix only waves it off with a raspy laugh, standing on wobbly legs with his blanket still wrapped around his figure. “I’m fine, I’ll just go wash my face.” Truth is, he’s anything but fine. And it doesn’t help when he accidentally has a glance of his own reflection in the body-length mirror from across the cabin—his hair is sticking to his forehead, his face is slightly more puffy than usual, and his eyebags look like he hasn’t slept in decades—he looks worse than a trash can, basically. 

“Hyunjin,” you raise a brow at your friend’s current state.

“What?”

“Catch him.”

“Huh-” Hyunjin snaps his head back when a loud thud is heard, eyes growing twice as big in sheer panic upon the sight of Felix laying on his stomach, mere inches away from his feet. “Felix!!” Your friends rush to his side while you’re too busy checking the thermometer by his nightstand. The temperature doesn’t seem to be too alarming, he should be fine after sleeping and sweating it out. But really, Felix looks more like he’s having the nap of a lifetime rather than passing out from the worst fever of the century. That doesn’t stop everyone from freaking out, unfortunately. 

Also, everyone can agree that this is the first and last storytime to ever happen.

nine.

Felix sits on the beach, eyes moving from sand to stone, from rock pools to breaking waves. He lets out a sigh, an exhale of relief when a breeze passes by him, tousling his hair as he buries his feet deeper into the primrose-colored grains. The briny aroma that exists in every fiber of air makes him feel at ease, as though unknotting all his angsty-teenager worries with grace. He feels a bit better, partially because his fever has already gone down when he shook you out of your half-asleep state at four in the morning. 

“Why?” you ask without turning your head after sensing his tense posture.

Felix looks confused, a little startled when you break the silence. “Why what?”

“Why the long face?” you unknowingly exhale too, stubbornly gazing forward. “Thinking about something?” For some reason, you’re too...scared to even spare him a small glance. This isn’t you, did his fever rub off on you or something?

To your dismay, his sudden inquiry catches you off guard. “High school is going to be over in a year, have you thought about what to do?” 

You open your mouth to protest with something along the line of he’s overthinking again and there’s still an entire year ahead to make new memories but when you’re about to utter the first word, your mouth automatically snaps itself close. It’s like you have an entire masterpiece planned out in your mind but when someone tosses you a blank canvas, you’re standing there in defeat like the biggest idiot. Felix is serious this time, you know it’s not because he’s lightheaded after riding out the fever. 

“Honestly?” you breathe out. “No, I haven’t. God, I don’t even want to think about it, the future scares me a little.”

Upon the mossed rock and vibrant horizon, comes the sun rays that are promised by the starlit sky. It makes you both a little breathless, not exchanging a single word nor moving a muscle for a while. 

Until, “Fine, it scares me a whole lot,” you confess, gaze cast downward as you hug your legs closer to your chest. “It sucks because everyone seems to have their lives together, Jisung is finally taking his interest in music seriously, Hyunjin is planning on being an actual theater kid, and Seungmin is...I don’t know, but he’s definitely onto something. Point is, everyone is already one too many steps ahead of me, I’m just..here, stuck. And I don’t feel like I have-”

“A lot of time left.” Felix finishes your sentence, prompting you to look at him this time. His delicate features shine under the cracking lights of dawn, starry eyes twinkling and lips outstretched into the smile that you absolutely adore. He has such a contagious type of smile that it makes you feel a little less dead inside whenever you see it. But your heartbeat also grows a little more ecstatic. 

A hearty chuckle. “You’re not alone, you know,” he says while not breaking away from the eye contact, this makes your throat grow dry. “I still have so much to do, so much to...say yet too little time. So yeah, don’t think about it too much, I’m never gonna leave you behind no matter what.”

You have to hold back a playful scoff at that; and to think he was the one who brought up this sappy topic. “If anything, you’re the overthinker in this relationship,” you tell him with a nudge on his rib. “But if you’ve already had my back, then you should know that I’ll always have yours too.”

Because what would you do without an overthinker like Felix? Drowning your sorrow by stress-eating in the middle of the night? Bottoming out on questionable drinks to end up like Han Jisung? Winging every single important choice that can potentially flip your life upside down in either a good or bad way? Not in a million years. He knows that you need him as much as he needs you, harsh truth but you still hate it either way.

You both don’t look forward to the future, like at all. 

You’re too apathetic and overall just a big ‘meh’ about it. You’re the type of person that goes with the flow, letting life toss you around like a ragdoll until you finally snap at some point to fight back because you know where the line between giving up and knowing that you’ve had enough is. Meanwhile, Felix is rather anxious about things. If a piece of paper with a pencil can draw out the map of his entire destiny ahead then he’ll have it finished in one night. But he’s grown out of his middle school self to know that things don’t always go as planned.

Guess if things turn out to be shit, you’ll still have him.

“Does that mean if we’re still single in our thirties, you’ll marry me like how our parents always joke about?” Felix cracks a shit-eating grin this time, one that makes your heart swell but for the most part, you wanna whack him unconscious with a pillow. 

You sneer in return, “Sure, but you’ll have to fall for me first.”

There’s a pang in Felix’s chest, it’s so loud and evident that he’s afraid you might hear it. You really didn’t have to slap him in the face with that seemingly harmless statement. “Hmm, who would even fall for a stubborn hermit crab like you?” he jokes to hide the nervousness that’s crawling upon his spine. His ears are probably bright red right now. “Although...that wouldn’t be a problem with me.” Because he’s already fallen for you, a little too hard actually.

“What does that even mean?” you only hum after questioning his statement, nothing makes sense right now since you’re getting a little sleepy because a certain someone wanted to watch the sunrise which simply lasted for about two minutes after two(ish) hours of waiting.

“I don’t know,” Felix laughs before standing up, dusting the sand off of his jeans. “You go figure it out, smartass.” With that, he runs off with his Converses dangling between his fingers, leaving you dumbfounded in the middle of the beach like a total dimwit. Slowly, within those five seconds of making eye contact with your best friend again, his words zero in on you like a wakeup call. 

Urgently grabbing your sneakers, you chase after him. “Hey- wait! GET BACK HERE!” By looks of it, you’ve probably figured it out now. It’s not like he’s trying to be subtle either.

Felix feels like he just gained strength from spewing out that indirect confession, and it gives him a tiny ray of hope that he still has his entire youth before his eyes to tell you how he really feels. Or his whole life if you don’t start resenting him for crossing the line that no one dares talk about when they have a thing for their best friend. 

Either way, as long as Felix sees your presence side by side with him at every ups and downs, he’s home. 

#skzwritersclub #inkidz #stayshub #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids fluff #lee felix #lee felix scenarios #lee felix imagines #lee felix fluff #felix scenarios #felix imagines #bang chan fanfic #lee minho imagines #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung fluff #kim Seungmin #yang jeongin #felix x reader #felix x you #skz high school au

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Alrighty so I'm gonna go out on a limb and request Overstimulation fics. As in sensual not sexual because with the holidays coming up I wanna read about the boys curbing meltdowns from Too Much™ so I can feel better about my moments

Hey Lovely!

AHHHHHH hmmm. I’d like to read some too... I did a search of my TO READ list and here’s what I found that might work? Feel free to add your own, Lovelies!! I have to add a new tag to my fics as I reread them now, LOL

OVERSTIMULATION / SENSORY ISSUES (TO READ)

The Doctor's Reward by CarmillaCarmine (E, 3,124 w., 2 Ch. || Quarantine / Self-Isolation, Doctor John, Blow Jobs, Anal Fingering, Anal Plug, Prostate Massage, Overstimulation, Autofellatio, Come Swallowing, Masturbation) – Sherlock decides that John needs a reward after a day of working from home. Part 11 of the The Johnlock Utopia (Holidays and Celebrations) Series

To Show You a Night by songlin (E, 3,731 w. || Sensory Deprivation, Blindfolds, Anal, Dirty Talk, Forced Orgasm) – Sherlock's never had an orgasm before. John crafts a solution. "I forgot how badly I wanted to fuck your mind.”

The Catherine Wheel by Ghislainem70 (M, 3,762 w., 1 Ch. || Sensory!Sherlock, First Kiss/Time, PWP, Romance) – A Johnlock first time. Sherlock has sensory sensitivity. Can Doctor John Watson help?

Isolation by Nova-chan (T, 9,281 w., 11 Ch. || Drama, Angst) – Sherlock in a sensory deprivation tank.

Crimson Hymns by brilliantlyburning (E, 48,982 w., 9 Ch. || Post-S3/TAB, Angst,  Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Drug Addiction, Unhealthy Coping Methods, Demisexual Sherlock, Boxing, Pining, Sensory Processing Issues, Drug Use, First Kiss / Time, BDSM, Mary is Not Good, Parentlock, Proposal, Happy Ending, Beekeeping, Violence, References to Addiction, Poetry) – He laid his head over John’s heart, eyes level with his silver-rough scar, and listened to the crimson hymns beating beneath the surface. He imagined flowers blooming in his own chest: veins weaving intricate patterns on petals of thin muscle engorged with blood, sinew for stems and tendons for roots—the flowers would be poppies, maybe (addictive) or foxglove (deadly yet useful)—twining gleaming blood-red around the porcelain bone of his ribs. In his mind’s eye the gruesome bouquet all tied together on the left side of his chest, the stems bound together in heartstrings and the flowers fed by the rhythmic contraction of ventricles. It’s yours, he imagined saying to John—from the vena cava to the mitral valve to the arteries it is yours.— Or, the Love Song of W. Sherlock S. Holmes.

In Absentia by SeaweedWrites (T, 79,273 w., 39 Ch. || TRF Divergence, Major Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Realism, Car Accident, Traumatic Brain Injury, Hospital, Sherlock in a Coma, Physical/Psychological Rehab, Sensory Issues, Heavy Angst, Drama, Sherlock Whump, Biog Brother Mycroft, Depression, Nightmares, Panic Attacks) – Sherlock sends John a mysterious text. While John waits for Sherlock to come back to 221B to explain, Sherlock is involved in a terrible car crash, and everyone's lives are irrecoverably changed. Will Sherlock survive? And the bigger question for John- If he does survive, will he ever be the same? Part 1 of the In Absentia Fics and Information

Sensory Science by sussexbound (E, 80,017 w., 24 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting, ASMR, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, John’s PTSD, Internalized Homophobia, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Anxiety, Friends to Lovers, Drinking Problems, Nightmares, Depression, Masturbation, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage/Orgasm, Phone Sex, Frottage, Coming Untouched, BJ’s, Rimming) – John Watson has been invalided home from Afghanistan and is struggling with anxiety, depression, PTSD and insomnia, when an old friend from med school recommends something that might help: An ASMR YouTube Channel run by a friend. One session in and John is hooked, not only by the way the ASMR seems to calm him after nightmares, and help him sleep, but also by the mysterious man who runs it.

Periodic Tales Series by 7PercentSolution (T/NR, 253,510+ w. across 18 works | Series WiP || Autistic Sherlock, Sensory Processing Disorder, Case Fics, Chemistry, Kidlock, Angst, Suicidal Thoughts, Mental Health Issues) – Lots of science, lots of case fic! This is Sherlock as chemist, using the periodic table of elements for many different reasons. Each story is centred around one particular element, in two parts. One focuses on aspects of Sherlock's childhood and events in his life; the other part shows how that has influenced his abilities as the world's only consulting detective, demonstrated through a case fic that shows off his deducing skills. The stories are not long (1-5 parts in length) and are in more or less chronological order in terms of Sherlock's life.

Unwind Series by illwick (E, 697,027+ w. across 33 fics || Light BDSM / Power Dynamics, Dom!John/Sub!Sherlock, Switchlock, Hair-Pulling, Snsory Deprivation, Deepthroating, Face-Fucking, Handcuffs, Overstimulation, Forced Orgasm, Prostate Milking / Massage, Rough Sex, Biting, Food Sex, Consensual Kink, Sex on Everything, Chair Bondage, Voyeurism, Exhibitionism, Masturbation, Hand Jobs, Blow Jobs, Oral/Anal, Fingering, Sex Toys, Captain John, Establish Relationship, Bratty Sherlock, Greedy Sherlock, Military Kink, Uniform Kink, Gunplay, Roleplay, Shower Sex, Oral Fixation, Praise Kink, Dry Humping, Facials, Dog Tags, Edgeplay, Multiple Orgasms, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Threesomes, Homophobia, Size Kink, Past Relationships, Past Drug Use, Double Penetration, Angst/Hurt/Comfort, Jealous Sherlock, Possessive Sherlock, Panties) –  John and Sherlock unwind after a case.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #overstimulation fics #sensory fics #to read #my fic recs #thatonetransmasc

[etherrealoblivion]

Chapter Four: Supper

Table Of Contents

Fic summary: Owning a bookstore in downtown D.C. came with its fair share of downsides. You never thought that being the target of a serial killer would be one of them. Luckily, a nice FBI agent by the name of Spencer Reid is assigned to watch over you. What's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Words: 1,748

MASTERLIST

~

A sudden loud beep had you shooting upright in bed. You leapt up and put your ear to the door. Rather than sinister noises, you heard the faint humming of a very familiar theme song.

You cracked open the bedroom door, peeking into the kitchen where Spencer was bustling around with a frying pan and a spatula with a focused expression on his face, humming the theme music to Doctor Who under his breath.

It was actually kind of adorable. You pushed open the bedroom door further to get a better look, but the door creaked and Spencer spun around, withdrawing his gun and pointing it square in your face.

“I’m sorry!” you squealed, throwing your hands up in surrender.

He quickly holstered his gun and ran over to you. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

“Yes. Yes, I’m fine,” you tried to laugh. “A little shaken but I’m okay. Really!” you added after a doubtful look from him.

His eyes were a deep hazel that seemed to peer into your soul. His hands felt good on your shoulders, clutching you tightly in comfort. It had been a while since you’d had, well, any physical contact. He was so tall he had to lean down to level his face with yours.

Suddenly, he seemed to realize how close the two of you were and stepped back, clearing his throat. 

“I was, uh, trying to make dinner.”

“I can see that,” you said playfully, with a glance at the kitchen in disarray.

“Yeah. I’m not the best cook. I can memorize thousands of recipes in minutes but i’ve never seemed to master the execution.”

You hesitated. 

“Thousands of recipes in minutes? What are you a genius?” you laughed.

“Scientifically, yes. An I.Q. score over 160 classifies someone as a genius.”

Your jaw dropped.

“You’re kidding?”

He shook his head, slipping his hands into his pockets and shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Wait so you can read like, a thousand words per minute?”

“Twenty-thousand,” he corrected, stepping back into the kitchen to continue cooking.

“Twenty-thousand!? That’s impossible!”

“Actually, the unconscious brain can process up to eleven million bits of information per second. It’s just a matter of being able to—“

“—to access the information from your subconscious,” you said, cutting him off. “Wow. That’s impressive.”

He looked at you in shock.

“What’s even more impressive is that you finished a sentence for me.”

“Sorry,” you blushed.

“No! No, I mean, not a lot of people can, erm, keep up. When you start college at fourteen, not many people expect you to be smarter than them. Then when they find out how smart you really are, it can be intimidating.”

Your mouth twitched up into a smile. Spencer was impressive, for sure, but he was also entertaining. Not in a make-fun-of kind of way, but he made you laugh. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. 

“Supper’s ready!”

You stifled a laugh.

“Supper?”

“What?” he looked over at you, reaching up to get two plates.

“Who says supper? Are you eighty?” you teased. 

“I’m twenty-six!” he said indignantly.

You froze.

“Wait, really?” He nodded. “You’re only twenty-six and you’re a prominent FBI agent? How?”

“Genius I.Q, three Ph.D.’s, and my irresistible charm,” he said, giving a goofy smile.

“Three PhDs? How? I’m getting a PhD and I can barely keep up with the workload!”

“You‘re getting a Ph.D.? That wasn’t in your police report. What’s it in?” he asked as he filled your plates. 

“Actually, I’m working on two.”

“Two!?”

You nodded, happy that you’d been able to shock him.

“Yep. Linguistics and Philosophy. I like Philosophy better but Linguistics is more challenging. The library won't let you into the section with the really good language books without a certain clearance. But I've actually nearly finished my thesis for it. What?” you added, noticing him staring at you.

“You’re working on two doctorates simultaneously?”

“Surprised you’re not the only genius?” you joked, taking your plate from him, then, upon seeing what he’d made, bursting out into laughter. 

“What?” he looked genuinely confused, which only made you laugh harder.

“Bacon?” you said through gasps. “Bacon and pancakes? You are aware it’s—“ you glanced at the clock, “—nine forty at night?”

“Gimme a break!” he said defensively. “It’s the only thing I can cook. The word ‘cook‘ being a generous descriptor.” 

It was better than Doritos and bourbon for dinner, your go to meal. You were just glad you’d had the stuff to make dinner. It would be very awkward trying to explain your unhealthy eating habits to Spencer.

You didn’t have a dining table. Anyway, you usually ate on the couch and watched something on TV. That was normal nowadays right? Whatever. Spencer didn’t seem to mind which was good enough for you.

“So, um,” he said nervously, pulling out a pad of paper and pencil. “There’s a few things I need to go over with you.”

You nodded, remembering the situation you were in.

“Is there anyone you can think of who might have shown a sort of stalking behavior before? They’d be unreliable, constantly late, not being able to stick to a schedule?”

“The only person I know like that is Claire, one of my co-workers, but she’s not a stalker, she's just always late to work. Honestly, the only people I really know are my co-workers, some people from school, and Steve, my friend.”

“The FBI is going to need a list of people you see frequently. If you could put that together as soon as you’re ready. Also, all your credit card information will have to be analyzed, everywhere it’s been used. Whoever accesses your card, even for something as small as a stick of gum, has the opportunity to use that information to find your name, your address, your workplace—”

“Ok. I get it. People I see frequently and my credit card info. Gotta warn you, there’s not much I buy with it other than books and coffee. Then again, there’s the occasional splurge at the mall.”

“Well, the FBI needs all of it.”

You nodded softly, staring at the bacon on your plate. He hadn’t said I need he’d said The FBI needs. You weren’t sure what that meant exactly.

“Do you want to watch something?” he said, gesturing toward the TV. “It might be a good distraction?”

“Yeah,” you put your plate on the coffee table, noticing that you’d barely eaten. “Yeah that sounds good. Could you just put something on? I don’t wanna choose.”

He nodded and picked up the remote.

The only thing he really knew you liked was Doctor Who so he put on a random episode. You let the TV become background noise to your thoughts as you stared off into space.

Spencer was comforting to be around. He helped take your mind off the situation you were in. You looked over at him on the couch, long legs crossed under him. He had taken off his tie and shoes and changed into more casual clothes: a jumper and some jeans. He was absentmindedly fiddling with the throw blanket between you on the couch. 

His hands are so long, you thought. Wait, why were you thinking that? You shouldn’t be thinking about his hands. Or how long they were. Or what they could—

“Are you alright?”

You felt yourself twitch, startled by his sudden acknowledgment. Even more embarrassing, you were sure he’d seen you staring at his hands.

“Yeah, sorry.”

“Hey,” he moved closer on the couch, “you don’t have to be sorry. It’s alright to not be okay.”

They were just words, they didn’t help. What did help was the care behind them. He wasn’t just saying it to comfort you, he actually meant it. To him, it really was ok to not be okay.

“Thank you Spencer, that actually helps.”

You glanced at the clock. It was 10:26.

“I should do some schoolwork,” you said, cringing afterward. You didn’t want him to think of you as some school kid.

“Okay!” he chirped happily, standing as you stood like a proper gentleman. “I’ll just be out here. Is it okay if I keep watching?” The episode played on, The Doctor dangling from a rope above London. “I really like this episode,” he said sheepishly.

“Sure,” you chuckled. “I’ll be in my room and please let me know if you need anything, seriously.”

He nodded assent, but you weren’t sure if he actually would. He seemed a little withdrawn, comforting you when you needed but keeping his distance when possible. It’s his job to keep you safe, you reminded yourself. Don’t get excited.

An hour later your eyes watered from the strain of keeping them open. But you were almost done with this paper. Sure, it was due next week but you were on a roll. Using an allusion to the Holocaust to support the point that Hollywood writing is riddled with antisemitism. In the morning, it might not sound as clever, but to your sleep-deprived brain, it was poetry.

A light knock on your door startled you.

“Come in,” you croaked.

Spencer peeked into your room, squinting.

“It’s pitch black in here,” he said, reaching for the light.

You shrieked as the light filled the room, blinding you.

“TOO BRIGHT!” you yelled, slamming your computer shut and throwing your arms over your eyes.

“Sorry! Sorry!” he fumbled with the switch and clicked it off. The room was now shrouded in darkness, neither of you able to see yet.

“Are you there, Spencer?”

“Yeah.”

You were both whispering. Why was it that people whispered in the dark? 

“You should try and get some sleep,” Spencer said. He was becoming more visible as your eyes adjusted to the light. He had changed into a blue set of pajamas. The fabric looked so soft.

“Yeah,” you muttered, moving toward the bed, “Yeah, I’ll do that.” 

Your bed felt scratchy and cold. Just last night getting in bed had been such a relaxing experience. So much had changed in a day.

“I’ll be right in the next room if you need anything,” 

“Hmm,” you hummed.

Spencer padded back out of your room.

The moment before the door closed you thought you heard a very faint, “Good night, Y/N.” But before you could wonder if it had happened or not, you were dropping off into a deep sleep. Knowing that you were safe with Spencer in the next room.

~

Taglist: @aperrywilliams @mjloveskids666 @dolanfivsosxox @criesinreid @fanficsrmylife @racerparker @sammypotato67 @lukeskisses @reidcrimes @you-had-me-at-hello-dear @l0ve-0f-my-life @thatsonezesty13

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert

[mrs-dr-reid]

She Used to Be Mine

(A Criminal Minds Fic)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Summary: The reader finally left her scum of the earth boyfriend of a year and a half, and she finds out she’s pregnant with his baby when the team gets done with a case. She lets out her frustrations about the whole situation during an open mic night at a bar, not knowing the rest of the team is there, too, and has to explain what’s been going on with her.

Genre: Oof, this is some painful stuff here, buddy. Maybe a little fluff at the end? I dunno.

Warnings: Minor language, mentions of abuse, mentions of an unhealthy relationship, brief allusions to doing the do, mentions of unwanted pregnancy, slight mentions of normal Criminal Minds stuff

A/N: I’m gonna apologize in advance for this one, guys. I’ve had “She Used to be Mine” from Waitress stuck in my head for like two days, and this came to me in a dream last night, so allow me to write out my brain vomit and slap it on the internet. Enjoy. Just a note, I have never seen or listened to Waitress in its entirety, I just know what this song is about and am writing this solely based on that one song. (Also, Y/S/N means “Your Sister’s Name”. If you don’t have a sister, make one up if you’d like)

Word Count: 3514

———————————————————————

Y/N didn’t know how she let this happen. She kept telling herself that she was going to leave him. That their situation was only going to get worse. That if she didn’t get out of there soon she could potentially die, and she never did. She had gradually been transitioning more and more of her stuff out of the apartment and into the trunk of her car to make leaving easier, and she had packed up all her things of value into a suitcase and kept it stashed in the hall closet ready to go just in case, because the Lord knows he never even gave it a second glance. Then finally after two months of delaying the inevitable, a blow-out argument and a handful of shattered beer bottles finally gave her the push she needed, and she slammed the door of his apartment behind her and never looked back once while dragging her suitcase down the stairs and out the door of his building to her car.

Luckily Y/N’s older sister Y/S/N also lived in D.C., and she was more than happy to let Y/N stay at her place until she found somewhere for herself. Y/N didn’t even know how to tell the rest of the team about the breakup, but she was glad she wouldn’t have to cover up bruises with makeup and lackluster excuses anymore. Y/N decided to let them profile it out for themselves because she didn’t want to waste anymore time, energy, or thoughts on her ex ever again.

The next day at work, the entire team immediately picked up on a change in Y/N’s demeanor, but none of them acknowledged it and let Penelope present their latest case in Madison, Wisconsin without so much as a questioning glance towards her. Well, everyone but Spencer, that is. He had his head cocked like a confused puppy while squinting at Y/N the entire meeting. Emily had to snap her fingers in front of his face at least twice to get him to pay attention again, which made Y/N a little nervous, because she really didn’t want him to confront her, mainly because she knows it’s impossible for her to lie to him.

They got on the jet, and once they were in the air, Y/N suddenly felt really nauseous and made a mad dash for the bathroom, making everyone turn to shoot a confused and worried look in that direction. Once she slammed the door shut and locked it behind her, she threw open the lid of the toilet and had at it. After she had finished, she flushed away the vomit and reasoned that she probably had something past its date for breakfast that morning and brushed it off.

Throughout the whole case, Y/N had random bouts of nausea and had to excuse herself during really important stuff to go and find the bathroom. She even had to run out during a suspect interrogation leaving Emily to talk to the perp, and had to leave while they delivered the profile to avoid losing her lunch and crappy bullpen coffee all over the suspect and the local cops. The whole team was worried for her, but she insisted she was fine and kept working, much to Spencer’s chagrin, but he just let her do what she had to do, because he’d learned to not mess with Y/N when she’s on a roll the hard way.

After they had caught the unsub and saved the would-have-been victim, Y/N found herself fighting back her own tears as she comforted the poor, traumatized girl, which was weird because that had never happened before. Once the team had packed up and got in the SUVs to head to the airfield, they had to stop at a gas station right before they left the town. Y/N grabbed her wallet and said, “I gotta take a bathroom break before we get out of here,” and both JJ and Emily nodded before she got out of the car and went into the store. 

Y/N went straight for the pregnancy tests and grabbed a box of three before heading to the counter and paying, because she had a hunch she needed to prove. She went to the bathroom, and took all three once she locked herself in a stall. She set them on top of the toilet paper dispenser thing and timed two minutes on her watch. Once the two minutes were up, she took a deep breath and grabbed the tests. Y/N almost passed out when she saw that all three read “positive”, but that’s when she realized her period was a couple of weeks late.

After that realization, she smacked her head against the wall of the stall, because she knew exactly how she’d gotten pregnant: Her stupid, lowkey abusive, borderline alcoholic ex had somehow convinced her to go with him to a sports bar to meet his stupid, annoying, borderline alcoholic friends and watch some sports game three weeks ago, they’d both gotten decently drunk, and she woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and without clothes.

Y/N took a picture of the tests on her phone in case someone on the team profiled it out of her and she needed receipts, then threw them in the little stall trash can before getting out of the stall, washing her hands, and going back out to the SUVs. JJ and Emily shot her looks as she climbed into the car because she was gone for a while, but they just assumed it was #1 and #2 and didn’t say anything.

She was silent and stared out the window the entire flight back, which didn’t go unnoticed by Spencer, who left his beloved jet couch to plop down across from her at the single seater table. She stopped looking out the window and saw him doing his signature awkward smile, which made a small smile spread across her face before she said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Are you okay, Y/N/N? You’ve been throwing up all week, and I don’t think that’s all that healthy.”

Y/N sighed and said, “I’m fine, Spence. I probably just haven’t been eating as much as my body would like me to, and the bullpen coffee agitated my stomach. I’m totally fine,” then reached across the table and grabbed his hand before saying, “Thank you for worrying, though. I appreciate you a ton. You know that, right?”, making him smile and say, “Yeah, I know. You’re welcome,” before getting up and going back to his couch, Y/N’s smile growing a little wider as she watched him go.

Once the team was back at Quantico, Y/N plopped down at her desk and started doing her paperwork, but Hotch came out of his office and said, “That was a rough case, everyone. The paperwork can wait until tomorrow, call it a night for now,” so Y/N shrugged and grabbed her bag off the floor and headed to the elevator, holding it open for everyone as the team piled in while expressing their relief at the early night.

Flash forward to the weekend, and Y/N is hanging out with Y/S/N (who is the only person who knows she’s pregnant) at their favorite bar in Logan Circle. It was open mic night, and Y/N decided that the best way to get her emotions out was to do a song. There was a piano, and she’d thankfully memorized how to play “She Used to Be Mine” from Waitress when she went on a musical theater kick. So she calmly sipped on a Shirley Temple and talked with her sister while she waited for her name to be called.

After about four people did what they wanted to do, the lady running the show called out, “Up next, Miss Y/N L/N who will be playing the piano and singing a song for us!”, so Y/N stood up and walked onto the stage before sitting down at the piano and adjusting the mic. She said, “This song is called ‘She Used to Be Mine’ from Waitress,” before playing the interlude and starting to sing:

“It's not simple to say

That most days I don't recognize me

That these shoes and this apron

That place and its patrons

Have taken more than I gave them

It's not easy to know

I'm not anything like I used be, although it's true

I was never attention's sweet center

I still remember that girl”

What Y/N didn’t know is that the team get-together Penelope organized she declined attending to hang out with Y/S/N was taking place at that exact bar, and they were at a booth right near the stage watching her performance. Penelope had instantly grabbed Derek’s arm in worry when Y/N had announced the title of the song, and when questioned about it, she said, “That’s probably the saddest song in the whole musical! In the show, the main character Jenna’s abusive husband takes all the money she’d been saving for the baby she didn’t want to have, and she sings this song because she feels like she’s lost complete control of her life and doesn’t know who she is anymore,” making everyone exchange looks before looking back at the stage to watch Y/N perform:

“She's imperfect, but she tries

She is good, but she lies

She is hard on herself

She is broken and won't ask for help

She is messy, but she's kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N kept singing, and as she did, she felt just like Jenna did in the musical: critical of herself for allowing a person like her ex to keep her locked in their relationship for way longer than she should have, and scared because she was going to be a mother, and no way was she allowing her scumbag ex to be a part of her son or daughter’s life.

“It's not what I asked for

Sometimes life just slips in through a back door

And carves out a person and makes you believe it's all true

And now I've got you

And you're not what I asked for

If I'm honest, I know I would give it all back

For a chance to start over and rewrite an ending or two”

Spencer could hardly believe what he was hearing. If he had an inkling that she might be pregnant before, this all but confirmed his mind that she was, but she’d have given anything to not be, which broke his heart a little. He took another sip of club soda (designated driver), and kept watching Y/N as she sang her heart out:

“For that girl that I knew

Who’d be reckless, just enough

Who gets hurt, but who learns how to toughen up

When she's bruised and gets used by a man who can't love

And then she'll get stuck

And be scared of the life that's inside her

Growing stronger each day 'til it finally reminds her

To fight just a little, to bring back the fire in her eyes

That's been gone, but used to be mine

Used to be mine”

JJ let out a tiny gasp at the “man who can’t love” line, and she whispered, “I knew she was covering bruises up. Why didn’t she tell us?”, but nobody had an answer for her. As Y/N sang the last part, all of her emotions came crashing down on her, and she barely made it through without bursting into tears:

“She is messy, but she’s kind

She is lonely most of the time

She is all of this mixed up and baked in a beautiful pie

She is gone, but she used to be mine”

Y/N was met with a standing ovation, and when she stood up to take a bow, her blood went cold when she saw the team sitting at their booth with heartbroken looks on their faces. She pretended she didn’t notice, then went to sit down with Y/S/N again, doing her best to avoid making eye contact with any of them, especially Spencer.

Y/S/N noticed the team staring at them, and she said, “Hey, Y/N/N. I think your friends from work want to talk to you,” which made Y/N let out a tiny groan before saying, “Fine,” and getting up to go over to the team’s booth. She put on a fake smile and said, “Hey, guys! I didn’t expect to see you here! How’s your night been?”, but she could tell her attempt at dodging the bullet didn’t work because Penelope was still about three seconds away from crying.

Y/N let out a sigh, then said, “Okay, fine. I can explain everything. I broke up with my awful boyfriend, apparently I’m pregnant with his kid, yes I’m keeping it, and no I am not allowing him to be a part of this baby’s life because he was horrible to me and that wouldn’t change if he had a child,” leaving the entire team speechless.

Emily said, “Why didn’t you tell us? We could have done something to help you!”, so Y/N burst out, “Because I was embarrassed, Em! I was embarrassed that I let it get that far, and I didn’t want anybody to know. The only person I told about any of this is my sister because I’m living with her right now until I can find my own place, because I used to live with my ex,” making a single tear fall down Penelope’s cheek, and Spencer look at her with an emotion in his eyes Y/N had never seen before.

Everyone else shot her looks of both sadness and encouragement, so she nodded before going back over to her sister and saying, “Can we go home now? I think I’m all partied out,” so Y/S/N said, “Yeah, sure! I’ll pay our bill, you can go wait in the car,” making her nod and grab her coat before walking out the door, doing her best to avoid eye contact.

A few hours later, Y/N was hanging out on the couch at the apartment catching up on paperwork after her sister had gone in for a shift at the hospital when her phone started ringing. She picked it up to see that it was Spencer, which confused her because he’s more of a text kind of guy. She answered and said, “Hey, Spence. What’s up?”, so he said, “Hey, Y/N/N. Can I come over?”, which made her say, “Yeah, sure! I’ll text you my sister’s address and apartment number, and I’ll stay close to the door to buzz you in,” before they bid their goodbyes and hung up.

About fifteen minutes later, the buzzer went off, so Y/N got up and pressed the button before saying, “Spencer?”, earning his reply of, “Yeah, it’s me,” so she said, “Come on up. The door’s unlocked,” before letting him into the building. Spencer came in the door, and before Y/N could even say anything, he snatched her into a tight hug and buried his face in her shoulder. Y/N didn’t really know how to react at first, but she accepted the hug and nestled her face into Spencer’s neck.

Spencer said, “I’m so sorry we weren’t there for you,” so Y/N released her grip on him and said, “No, I’m sorry I didn’t let you guys be there for me. I let my pride get in the way, and I definitely paid the price. I promise I won’t hide things from you guys anymore. It helps no one if I’m not honest with you,” which made Spencer smile at her.

Y/N said, “Can I get you anything? Coffee?”, so Spencer said, “Yeah, coffee sounds great,” making Y/N smile before saying, “You take your cream and sugar with a little coffee, right?”, and she heard him let out a slight chuckle as she went into the kitchen. She put on a pot of boiling water, then grabbed out everything she needed to make Spencer a cup of coffee as well as her favorite green tea, because she knew that she’d receive a lecture about drinking coffee while pregnant from her favorite boy genius and she didn’t want to deal.

Y/N got two mugs out of her cupboard, and after she fixed everything up, she brought the mugs into the living room where Spencer was sitting on the couch. They sat and talked about life for a while until Spencer finally said, “So... when did you find out?”, so Y/N said, “When we stopped at that gas station for a pitstop in Madison. I bought three tests, then took them in the bathroom. All three of them were positive, and while it shouldn’t have shocked me, it did,” making Spencer nod in understanding.

He was silent for a little bit, then he said, “Are you sure you’re gonna keep the baby?”, so Y/N took a long sip of tea before saying, “Yes. At the end of the day, this baby is still 50% me, and I want to give them the best life I can when he or she arrives. It may be the byproduct of one of the worst periods of time in my life, but that doesn’t mean I’m not gonna take this little blessing in disguise for granted,” and rubbing her tummy.

Spencer smiled and said, “Henry’s gonna be really excited about having a playmate,” making Y/n say, “I don’t doubt it,” before chuckling slightly. There was a comfortable silence for a moment or two, then Spencer cleared his throat before saying, “This is probably the last thing you want to hear after everything you’ve been through, but... I love you. I think I’ve loved you since May 21, 2009,” making Y/N’s eyes widen before she said, “That’s a week after I joined the team.”

Spencer said, “I know. I know, and I’m sorry for not telling you sooner. If I had, you wouldn’t have ended up with... him, and you wouldn’t be pregnant with his kid, and you wouldn’t have had to suffer at his hand for all that time without any of us realizing it, and...,” but Y/N put her hand over his mouth and said, “Spence, I’m gonna need you to shut up and listen to me for a minute, okay?”, making him nod and say, “Okay,” slightly muffled by her hand.

Y/N removed her hand, then said, “Spencer Reid, if you’ve loved me since May 21, 2009, I have to admit that I’ve loved you since May 22, 2009. The only reason I ever said yes to that... douche nozzle is because I didn’t think there was any chance in hell you’d be into me. Now that I know you have feelings for me, the only thing I’d want to change is instead of my ex being this baby’s father, I’d want it to be the scrawny boy genius I was lucky enough to be desk neighbors with,” making Spencer’s eyes well up with tears.

He scooted closer, and brought a hand up to Y/N’s cheek before whispering, “Can I...? Would it be alright if I kissed you?”, so Y/N whispered back, “Yes,” and Spencer leaned in before gently touching his lips to hers in one of the softest kisses she’d ever been given. Y/N’s hands found their way into Spencer’s hair, and she held him closer while scooting into his lap, making him smile against her lips and wrap his other arm around her waist.

When Y/N pulled her lips away, she rested her forehead against his and said, “When this baby arrives... If I asked you to be their father figure, would you do it?”, so Spencer’s eyes welled up again before he said, “You can ask me right now,” making Y/N smile. She said, “Will you be this child’s father figure?”, and Spencer said, “Absolutely,” before kissing her forehead and pulling her closer to him.

When Y/S/N got home, she stopped in the living room and had to pull out her phone, because Y/N and Spencer were fast asleep on the couch. Y/N was sprawled over Spencer’s chest and her face was nestled in the crook of his neck, and Spencer’s arms were draped loosely over her back to keep her close. Y/S/N took a picture of the adorable scene, then grabbed a blanket from the wicker basket they kept by the couch to drape it over their sleeping forms. As she walked to her room, she whispered, “Sweet dreams, Lovebirds,” a smile on her face as she did.

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Tag List: @agenthotchner​, @hurricanejjareau​, @xgoldentigerlilyx​, @therestisconfettis​, @less-intelligent-spencerreid​, @aryaarathornson​, @thomasgibsonfan01​

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#criminal minds #reader insert #one shot #dr spencer reid

[skinks]

So like imagine richie spending most of his adult living on take out and microwave dinners, and eddie spending most of HIS adulthood basically letting others take care of him which would mean neither of them having absolutely any kitchen skills which means a) hilarious kitchen shenanigans and b) the two of them slowly learning to cook together after their respective emancipations. Like finally hitting some adulthood touchstone and learning to care for themselves and gradually be human together.

2. Also wrt to richie and eddie learning to cook: it particular I just see eddie as just so deprived and emancipated in his pre ch2 life so when he’s finally liberated himself so to speak, I feel like he’d just be so ravenous for everything. All the things he never let himself enjoy before: sex, experiences, adventure, traveling, etc. and I think learning to love and be passionate about/have a relationship with food that’s more than just utilitarian is a huge aspect of his missed individuation.

3. And for richie like yeah it’s about learning to self care and cutting out time to take care of yourself. But it’s also about intimacy and love. He gets to spend time with someone who he loves and who loves him learning something that’s healthy for both of them and that eddies excited about. And he’s never cooked with someone before. And what’s more he’s got this whole new way of showing he cares by being able to cook for eddie. Like cooking for ppl is absolutely a form of love and caretaking.

4. Thank u 4 coming to my ted talk. I just like the inherent domesticity and GROWTH of them giggling like idiots after destroying their fourth skillet over something dumb but not being disheartened or upset about it because this is what growing is and hey the company ain’t too bad and failing together is fun and gives them good stories at loser reunions. and slowly after time they just aren’t destroying their appliances anymore and they’re getting good at it. Anyway I’m upset not bye

Anon!!! Anon I want you to know I’ve thought about these messages so often ever since you sent them and I’m sorry I’m only getting to it now, but every time I do think about it I go crazy. I go wild. This is so fun and smart and lovely and I really want a 20k fic about it.

I really don’t know what to add tbh, this is so good. I’ve read so many great takes and even fics that take the time to mention perhaps, Eddie having disordered eating patterns while growing up, or orthorexia as an adult. Having first Sonia and then Myra do all the cooking for him, (taking care of him, Eddie-bear) is such a fundamental thing to be out of his control. His literal fuel. It’s just another thing about his relationship to his body that he’s disconnected from, and you’re so right about a healing post-ch2 Eddie who’s suddenly ravenous for all the things he was starved of before.

How did Eddie know so well, how to beat IT, how to make IT small in the first place? Because Eddie has been made small all his life, he knows the effects of being stunted, starved of real love and experience.

So, by Richie being there as they learn to cook, encouraging each other, it’s taking real care. I circle around this concept constantly but like, them being able to care for each other in ways that AREN’T “smothering” or “greedy” or all the other unhealthy ways they’ve feared to love before, it makes them better!! It makes me wanna unscrew the top of my head and pull my brain out!

So yeah, it’s a huge thing for Eddie to take back that control. I’m also a terrible cook so it makes me happy to imagine their cute panicky struggles together as Richie accidentally cuts a finger and bleeds into the chilli, or Eddie irreparably burns his latest wok. Oh god, what if they start off by watching YouTube cooking videos and that’s how they find Brad Leone and that’s how Richie winds up on It’s Alive—

Anyway. Recently I’ve been kinda digging the idea that Richie does know how to cook because Richie/competency is my real OTP, but it’s more likely he’s the microwave dinners and instant noodles type. So even if he DID know how to make pasta, at least, he never got to make it with anyone else.

Now he gets to throw spaghetti at a wall to see if it’s cooked (you better believe he has a field day with those jokes.)

He gets to accidentally add way too much spice to the stir fry before, to laugh and sweat and gasp and playfully make Eddie chug a glass of milk, because they know he’s not lactose intolerant, dammit.

He gets to send a photo of Eddie to the group chat, wearing sunglasses and holding a wooden spoon clenched in his teeth as he determinedly chops onions. Captioned, “Don’t look now, but there’s a celebrity in my kitchen 😎”

He gets to wear an apron, and feel Eddie press up behind him to toy with the strings knotted into a bow just under Richie’s stomach. To feel Eddie ruck up the hem of the apron to hold his hips, while Richie stirs something, always giving Eddie first taste to make sure it’s any good.

They get to play music, and dance, eat and wash up and lie around with their stomachs full of food they made together!!

I’m thinking about it and about this fucking poem forever, thank you

#reddie

[trilies]

an argument for AO3

So I’m in a conversation with someone who is kind of in the “against AO3″ camp, and they asked me a couple of questions. Namely, who wouldn’t be uncomfortable with pedophilia? Isn’t it sketchy that a beta website is asking for so much money despite reaching its goals?

And my answer became so long... I figured it might as well become its own post. Please bear in mind that this is cut from a whole conversation.

But here it is.

------

No. It doesn't seem sketchy to me at all. Why would it? I know we make jokes about how much money tumblr has cost the various sites which purchase it like Yahoo, but there's some truth there: it's really expensive to host a website to thousands and thousands of people. It's why we see so many tumblr owners trying to shoehorn in ads or make people buy services, or why Photobucket tried to pull that truly atrocious bullshit a year or two back. Without image hosting capabilities (tumblr and photobucket's big thing), the strain isn't as huge.... but AO3 is MASSIVE. It is hosting literally thousands of accounts, millions of stories. That's massive on a server scale alone, ignoring all the other work they do. Yeah, it's in beta... but that's because it's trying to reach a goal of being as good a fanfic archive as they can be, and they don't believe they've reached that goal yet. Being in beta means they can better listen to their uses on shit like tagging systems and make those changes. Not to mention, again, they are INCREDIBLY transparent. If you are worried about where the money is going, you can go on the site and they have all their stuff up there.

As for the pedophilia subject matter.... Please give me a moment. because there's honestly a lot to say on that particular issue, if nothing else. This will take a while, so if you see this and there hasn't been a reply yet.... I'm still typing lmao.

To start with, of course people are uncomfortable about pedophilia. However, there are a lot of problems with how pedophilia is viewed or *used* as an accusation in the current fandom climate.

For example, in honestly EXTREMELY recent times, I was told I was "defending" pedophilia because I disagreed that a character (an immortal food gijinka) was "minor-coded" or "designed as an underage teenager". (As a note, an argument for this view was that the character's breasts were too small.) When I pointed out, hey, that's kind of a fucked up accusation to throw at a complete stranger, especially as I am a CSA survivor, I was told "You have to be lying about that, then, because a real CSA survivor would understand."

c o o l

That's just my personal experience that happened within a couple of months. Other people have talked about running into people who think that a character turning 18 means they're a pedophile for still dating a 17 year old. Or running into people who think a 40 year old dating someone in their 30s is pedophilic. Or believe that even SHIPPING characters who were not yet 18 was pedophilic if you yourself were over 18.

(Of course, you also have the kinds of people who try to use Moral Purity as a way to bash ships they don't like. I once saw someone try to claim that a popular mlm ship, A/B, was pedophilic because one half of the equation looked young.... when some other artists drew him... Of course, on the side, this person liked to also get angry that *their* favorite ship, a dude/chick ship composing of A/C, wasn't more popular. So. You know.)

So that's one half of the problem: the word "pedophile" being so warped that a lot of people now have no idea if the person using it has a genuine concern or if the accuser is trying to smear someone who doesn't ship the same thing. FFnet and Tumblr have gone with the "burn it all down" approach, which hasn't actually helped anyone and is, to boot, sloppily moderated. So we know from history, from experience in cases like mine, that it doesn't help in that area.

The other half of the problem is... How far is too far?

This is where "anti" culture begins to find similarities with the whole Warriors for Innocence thing. If you completely and blindly block an entire tag, or anyone associated with it, you have to ask: who are you hurting? Warriors for Innocence hurt actual rape victim, and queer folk, and a whole lot of others. Far as I can tell, anti culture is on the route to the same thing, because I have yet to see appropriate answers to a lot of issues.

If one says "anything with underage sex in it is bad and should be banned", what about fics that tackle it in a serious manner? The young adult novel "Speak" deals with rape of an underage girl and how she works through that mental trauma; are fics with stories equivalent to that allowed? Do fics with underage sex have to focus purely on how it is Horrible And Bad to be allowed? Does only a chapter have to be allowed? A paragraph? An author's note? A tag? Or are we allowed to never explore dark subject matter?

Is fic with underage content in it only horrible if it's someone over the age of eighteen who writes it? Can a teenager write smut (terribly written as it may likely be) between teenage characters? Can a teenager write smut between a teenage character and an adult character? For the record, i did in fact, over the summer, run into someone who said that teens/minors "shouldn't even know about NSFW", which is asinine to me, because Abstinence Only is a terrible thing to put in schools, and somehow worse in a way when you try to put that into effect in fandom. If the answer is 'yes', what are you going to do, demand to see people's birth certificates in fandom?

(As a note, I think this is a terrible message to put into fandom for teenagers because I believe it will inevitably lead to self hatred and a warped view of sex. If you make the extremely simplified black-and-white statement of "teens and sex should never go together ever in any way", that's going to mess up teens who are starting to experience arousal in their bodies. The message, whether intended or not, ends up as "NSFW things are bad, which means my brain which thought NSFW thoughts is bad, and my brain thought those thoughts because my body had these feelings". )

(This is bad for any average teenager. This will be especially worse to CSA and rape victims, along with queer youth who, in a lot of places, are still struggling with their bodies and/or feelings because the world is still pretty damn queerphobic.)

Speaking of CSA and rape victims, what about those of them who write/read underage ships or dark content as a way to cope with what happened or Just Because? That's a thing lots of us do, especially those of us who don't look like the Perfect Victims people can use as an excuse for whatever crusade they're waging. I've heard anti types go "Well, it's an unhealthy way to cope" or claims that CSA/rape victims who write such dark content are "just as bad as their abusers"... But are they psychiatrists/therapists? Are they the psychiatrists/therapists of *those specific people*? Will you moderate this kind of content by forcefully interrogating CSA/rape victims to out their trauma to a complete stranger? Will you demand to speak to their therapists? Over fanfic?

When I was a teenager, I wrote all sorts of stuff. I wrote dark dub-con fic, because I liked to explore those dark feelings in the process and the aftermath separate from myself. I wrote a fic with a fairly young teenage girl (what age was kh2 kairi? who even knows, I sure didn't) falling for a MUCH older man built like a brick shit house so that there was never any doubt to him being an adult, even giving him her first kiss, because they were my favorite characters, I wanted both of them to have a moment of happiness (that i promptly ruined but hey), and, *in this fic*, I knew it would be alright. I knew the girl would always be in control, she'd be the one making moves, that the guy was nonthreatening and kind and protect her and work alongside her.

(and then I began the process of killing him off in the next paragraph through him saving her life, but, like. Drama (tm), baby)

This was all good for me. At an age where I was young, vulnerable, and figuring out weird shit like arousal and romantic feelings, it was *invaluable* to have a space where I could explore all of that while relatively safe from actual danger, even if the stuff I wanted to explore was a little messed up. This whole thing against AO3 wouldn't have helped me, and I'm pretty sure it's not helping a lot of other people too.

There is an issue with underage people and sex stuff- not just in fandom but in culture at large. We have Hollywood dressing up young girl actresses in super slinky or revealing clothes. We have schools saying girls basically should never wear shorts, and capitalism fucking this up further by only selling SUPER SHORT shorters. We have media of all sorts giving us adults, whether in real actors or character design, in the roles of young people. (See: "how do you do, fellow kids") We should probably take more care about fandom spaces, so that people of all ages don't feel pressured to engage in sexual shit they're not 100% game for or into, or just have it shoved into their faces without consent. It's a complex issue... and it's not stuff that can just be 'banned' and have that fix it.

AO3 has on its plate a very complex problem that will, if we're all honest, never have a perfect answer. It has given us the best that can possibly be asked for. It obeys the law by not having actual child pornography on it (aka visual proof of actual real children, defined by us law as such), which is closest to "objective" we can get at the current stage in humanity and state of fandom. It has a very comprehensive and moderated tag system, so that people can post warnings along their fic so that people don't stumble onto shit they don't need to, and so that people can moderate their own reading experience to some degree.

If some people aren't comfortable with AO3, that's fine. However, most of us are getting annoyed not with those people, but with the people who just blindly say "AO3 supports child porn and is probably stealing money" (statement simplified for the purpose of this post). It shows an ignorance of the fandom history that lead us here, no understanding in either AO3's practices or how expensive it is to run a site, and no consideration for how complex this problem can really be. It would be great if this was a black and white issue, if there was an easy answer as just "banning" certain kinds of content... but there isn't. And that's where I am.

#long post #ao3 #fandom #here comes the ruckus #csa tw #rape tw #you never realize how long what you've written is #until it's in a whole ass tumblr post #well!

[aire101]

Ferrum Intro

My brain absolutely, positively refuses to focus on romance atm, which means I have made no progress on my WIP and instead my brain ended up producing this concept which I will probably continue at least until I get it out of my system.  So here’s the beginning of a post-Endgame MCU/SAO Irondad fic that I went online to read, discovered it didn’t exist yet, and so could NOT GET OUT OF MY DAMN HEAD.

-------

It had been a long day.

Then again, every day seemed like a long one lately.

It had been a relatively beautiful November day for New York City, and with the approaching holidays Peter was starting to see the usual uptick in petty crime begin this season. Within his five hour patrol he had helped eight lost tourists, found one lost pet, caught two armed burglars and tied up a ridiculous number of petty thieves. Nothing too problematic, just another day in the life of our friendly neighborhood Spider-man.

Peter sat crouched on a roof looking over the newest Iron Man mural to pop up, this time right on the edge between Queens and Brooklyn. There were several around town already, but this one was especially heart-wrenching. Most were either of the armor mid-action or of Mr. Stark in his trademark press look. But this one was different in the best and worst way.

In this art, Mr. Stark was still in his armor, but the helmet was retracted, allowing the viewer to see the blood crusted on his face, the lines of worry even deeper than they were before everything had gone to hell. There weren’t many pictures of Mr. Stark from the five year period now known as the Blip, but in the ones there were Peter knew he had looked like this— tired and worn in a way Peter had never seen, but could well understand. All in all, it looked uncannily similar to the last time Peter had seen him. When—

Anyway—

And on the shoulders of this mural’s Tony Stark rested an enormous orb holding dozens of galaxies spiraling around a central point— a tiny arc reactor in the shape of a heart.

There was still a little while before he would be expected at Ned’s tonight, but the more he tried to convince himself to hit the streets again, the heavier his limbs felt.

He couldn’t do it. Not like this. Experience told him it was a recipe for disaster, likely to get himself or someone else badly hurt. Himself he could handle, someone else… his conscience couldn’t take another body added to its count right now. Besides, he had promised Ned he’d be there tonight.

Peter sighed and swung away from his rooftop perch to head back towards Ned’s, not sparing the art a backwards glance.

No matter how good it was, no reproduction could ever duplicate what he had lost.

----------

“Whoa, you’re early,” said Ned with a mild tone of shock. Which honestly… was probably fair. “I wasn’t expecting you for at least another thirty minutes.”

“Yeah, I decided to call it a night early. It was actually pretty quiet tonight anyway. Didn’t want to get too wrung out on the web considering we have plans tonight,” said Peter as he stepped into the Leeds’ apartment, slipping off his shoes and hanging his coat on the rack. “Where is everyone?”

“Dad has to work tonight, and mom and Angelica went to Laser Bounce earlier, but they should be back before too long. I stayed home to finish some stuff up before the launch tonight. Plus, I wasn’t sure when you’d be getting here, so…”

“Sorry, I should have messaged earlier.”

“You’re alright man. Like I said, I had some stuff to wrap up. I plan to be in-game as much as possible tomorrow,” said Ned as they moved into his bedroom.

“You sure you don’t mind me getting the first run tonight? They might have some secret opening event planned for the first few hours…” asked Peter.

“I am absolutely positive. I am going to have plenty of opportunities to lose unhealthy amounts of sleep to this game. Besides, between the two of us I think you need the break more than me.  On a related note— you look terrible man. Have you been sleeping at all?”

“I sleep,” said Peter defensively. “I don’t really need much though, you know?”

“Physically, sure. Mentally? You’re still just as human as the rest of us Peter. Have you talked to May about it? Or Happy?”

“Can we please drop this? It’s just been a long day, alright?”

“What happened? I thought you said it was mostly quiet?” asked Ned, confused.

“I meant it was quiet for New York, I was still busy pretty much all evening,” said Peter, falling backwards onto Ned’s bed.

Ned sat down at his computer, spinning around to face Peter. “Fine, but I’m definitely going to harass you later, and you better actually sleep after we trade off in a few hours. Anyway, I am SO PSYCHED or this! God I hope its worth all the hype.”

“I can’t imagine it being a flop. The tech behind it is revolutionary, and the head developer has been working on the game for like a decade,” said Peter, as he scrolled through the GameSpot special coverage from that day.

“Wasn’t SI contracted to consult on it, too?” asked Ned.

Peter felt his throat begin to constrict. The nails of his right hand bit into the flesh of his palm as he forced himself to take a slow breath—hold—and release…

“Yeah, Mr. Stark consulted on it himself. Some of the engineering on the headset is similar to the BARF technology. I think he might have worked on a couple system AI’s as well.”

“That is so cool man. So this is almost like his last tech contribution? Last gift to the world…”

“I doubt that. It was just a consult job, most of the work was done by Argus. Plus, Mr. Stark had years worth of projects and updates on file. We’ll probably see things he had a hand in being released for the next ten years at the least,” said Peter.

“Still pretty cool though,” said Ned with a shrug.

At that moment, Peter heard the sound of a key being inserted into the lock of the front door.

“Looks like they’re back,” he said, continuing to scroll, this time through discussions on Reddit.

“Have you had dinner yet? You know if you haven’t she’s going to force you to eat before you dive.”

“Nah, I didn’t get a chance to stop off earlier. What kind of leftovers do ya have?”

“I think there’s meatloaf and some chicken adobo left at the moment.”

“Yaaasss… Chicken adobo…”

Just then Ned’s bedroom door opened, and Mrs. Leeds poked her head in, a large smile on her face.

“Peter! I thought I saw your coat by the door! I’m glad you were able to make it tonight! Edward has been excited about the sleepover for weeks,” she said.

“Oh my god, mom! It’s not a sleepover! I doubt we’ll even sleep much!”

“Isn’t that what sleepovers are about?! You’re ridiculous… Anyway, have you eaten?” Mrs. Leeds asked, looking at Peter.

Peter had to bite back a smile, but shook his head.

“Hala ka, you’re going to waste away into dry bones! I don’t care how busy you are these days, you shouldn’t be skipping meals. You’ll blow away in a strong breeze. Come, I’ll heat something up. I know how bad you boys get about eating when its a normal game. A full immersion VR? You’ll forget you even have a real body that needs sustenance.”

“Yes, ma’am,” said Peter, dutifully following her into the kitchen.

“You are in luck. We have some leftover chicken adobo from last night. I know you like that recipe. Did May ever give it a go?”

Peter flashed back to the gloopy, slightly charred mess that was May’s attempt at cooking the dish. “Eh… Yeah but it wasn’t quite the same. Still needs a bit of work.”

“Huh,” Mrs. Leeds said, sounding confused.

“Peter!” shouted a voice from behind him.

“Hey Angie,” said Peter, before he felt arms wrap around him from behind in a bear hug.

His heart throbbed in his chest. His breath caught and wouldn’t come.

Thanos was coming for the gauntlet he couldn’t let him have it he had to run the aliens were grabbing him he had to—

“You never come around anymore! It’s been months—!”

“Stop that Angelica. It’s been a crazy year, and Peter stays very busy between school and an internship. Shouldn’t you be getting ready for bed? It’s already way passed bedtime.”

Angie rolled her eyes dramatically but stomped back off towards her room to do as she was asked.

“Sorry, dear. She just missed her big brothers, you know.”

Peter did his best to force out a grin, but he wasn’t sure just how well it came off because the next thing he knew Mrs. Leeds was giving him a tender kiss on the head and muttering about making some cups of cocoa.

It was moments like this that he truly felt the strange reality of the fact that he had lost five years of his life. On the surface level everything felt mostly the same— Aunt May along with the majority of his friends had also been snapped, as well as several of his teachers. But while they were gone, Ned’s little sister aged from an innocent five year old, to a ten year old girl who had grown in a world in more confusion, pain and desperation than Peter could really comprehend. Freshman he had helped tutor in school had graduated. Families he had known were irreparably torn apart, seemingly overnight.

It felt like while he was still the same, the rest of the world had tilted slight to the left, leaving him unbalanced and unsure where to step next. He’d always felt a bit out of place anyway after the spider bite, but now it was so much worse. Sometimes Peter wanted a taste of what normal used to be like, without freaky spider powers, world protecting responsibilities and the guilt of looking around him and wondering if he deserved to be here at all.

He glanced at the clock that hung on the wall— fifteen minutes till midnight.

“I should probably go brush my teeth too and get settled in. The server will open soon,” said Peter as he stood.

“Yeah, though there shouldn’t really be much to do other than to actually connect since we calibrated your account the other day,” said Ned.

Within ten minutes Peter had taken care of his nightly necessities and given Angie and Mrs. Leeds both a hug goodnight, settling in on the upper bunk of Ned’s bed.

“Last time I’m asking— are you sure you don’t mind me giving this the first run?” asked Peter.

Ned sighed and spun around from his computer to send Peter an exasperated look. “Do you not want to take it on its maiden voyage?”

“That’s not what I said,” Peter rolled his eyes.

“Then stop worrying.  Just have a good time for once.  Also, I downloaded a couple files to the gear.  Not sure how reliable it is yet, but a few beta testers put out some first floor tips on the DL as a downloadable in game file, so check that out once you dive.  It might help out a bit.”

“Will do.  Thanks.”

“No problem.  Now get going, and be sure to take plenty of notes in your journal to send me later.”

“See you around, kid.”

“I am older than you are by two months.  Shut up and dive, loser.”

Peter smiled as he fitted the Nervegear onto his head, laid back and said, “Link Start.”

———————

In a remote, nondescript server room a certain file kicked to life.  It’s programming had been remotely accessed, a mere accident of oversight.  The digital pathways that connected it to the Argus servers, while known about, had been forgotten in the chaos of the last few years.  The file was not one created within the system, but one created to interact within it.  The Cardinal system downloaded the precious data, implementing it in the category that best described its form and function.

Program designation: Client

System ID: Ferrum Vir

Administration level: GM

. . . .

Installation Complete

————————

At 12:00 am EST on November 5th, 2023 (1:00 pm JST), Peter Parker joined 10,000 others in the world’s first full dive MMORPG— Sword Art Online.

And so did a very confused Anthony Edward Stark.

#tony stark #peter parker #irondad #irondad and spiderson #marvel cinematic universe #iron man #spider-man #MCU #sword art online #mcu/sao #fanfiction #crossover fanfiction #ai tony stark #post endgame #mostly canon compliant #im not even sure what to tag this #i have no idea where im going with it #aire101 writes #not ffh compliant