#which i will definitely go into because like. THEY MADE KYLE JESUS??!?!?!?! | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

broflovski-brah · 3 months

Text

im being self indulgent so here’s a fix of kyle being sick and sheila taking care of him

“Care for You”

Warnings: Sickness, overeating, stomachaches, the works in a sickfic.

Kyle’s immune system had always been fucked. Ever since he was born he was burdened with having the immune system of a damn squirrel. So oftentimes he would be bombarded with an onslaught of different sicknesses. Fevers. Chills. Colds. Stomach bugs. Flu. You name it, he probably had it at some point. It also didn’t help that he was diabetic, so his immune system was even more compromised.

He knew something was wrong from the moment he woke up. He had felt a sharp throbbing in his abdomen. His stomach twisted inside him. He assumed it must’ve been hunger, though he couldn’t recall feeling hungry that quickly after waking up. He sat up and was instantly hit with a dizzy spell. He groaned and buried his face in his hands. He contemplated going back to bed but he knew that it was a Saturday. Which meant game nights with the boys. And Kyle had promised he would be there since he hadn’t been to the last few because of the unfortunate timing of his sporting events.

But there was another thing he had to get past now, besides the feeling of his stomach swimming inside him. His mom.

Kyle loved his mom to death. He really did. She was there for him whenever he needed her. She was his rock. She listened to his problems and made him feel better when he needed her most. But Jesus Christ could she be overbearing. Not to mention observant. He checked his clock.

“11:30?! Fuck…”

He hadn’t even realized he had been passed out for that long. He was surprised his mom hadn’t come barging into his room to make sure he wasn’t dead. Oh well. Up and at ‘em.

As soon as Kyle swung his feet over the bed, another wave of dizziness washed over him. He let out a low groan and a dry belch, which tasted like death. He scrunched up his face and smacked his lips a bit to get the taste out of his mouth. He knew something was definitely wrong. Probably some digestive issue. But would he admit that? No. No he would not. He powered through and managed to stand up, changing into a loose t-shirt and jeans. He noticed his stomach looked kind of bloated. Likely as a result of the sickness. He sighed to himself in a mix of frustration and annoyance before pulling his shirt over his head.

He began rummaging through his drawer, trying to find his insulin and blood sugar monitor. He set everything up on his desk. It was hard to focus with how dizzy he was and blurry his vision was. He managed to force his eyes into focusing by putting on his glasses. God he hated them. His diabetes had messed with his vision, thus he needed either glasses or contacts, which unfortunately, the former seemed like the safer option. He knew he probably didn’t have the stability to put in contacts at the moment, with how shaky his hands were. And he really didn’t have the time, nor patience to fight with contacts at the moment.

He squinted a bit as he set up his lancet. He pocketed the lancet, the insulin and the glucose monitor and went downstairs, praying Ike wasn’t in the bathroom. Kyle was sixteen and Ike was eleven, thus sharing a bathroom had become a lot less…convenient. He also prayed he wouldn’t pass by his mom. He didn’t want her to worry about him if she saw how sick he looked.

After managing to sneak downstairs, he knocked on the bathroom door, to which Ike responded. “I’m busy!”

“Fuck…” Kyle uttered. He sat down at the table, just as his mom walked in.

“Kyle, bubbi! I was getting worried about you. You don’t normally sleep this late!” she rushed over to him, putting her coffee cup down. He hoped she wouldn’t look too closely to his face. “Hey, Ma.”

Shit. His voice was croaky and clearly gave him away His mom’s smile dropped. She squinted at him.

“Kyle, dear. Are you feeling alright? You look sick.”

Kyle inwardly cringed. He would’ve much rather preferred to just go back to bed and not put up with Cartman’s bullshit, but it was Game Night. And he promised Stan he would be there. Kenny too. And he couldn’t let those two down. So he pulled himself together.

“Yeah, I’m okay. Just think my blood sugar’s a bit low.”

It wasn’t a complete lie. It could’ve been too low. Or high. The symptoms were really similar, albeit the sudden ravenous feeling inside that told him to eat. That was definitely a sign of low sugar. But it certainly wasn’t just that. It was also the fact that he felt minutes away from barfing his guts up if he had any contents in his stomach to throw up. His mom squinted at him, as if she were sizing him up. She had gotten off his ass a lot more now that he was older and could be trusted with more things, but she was very firm when he was sick.

“Okay…check your blood sugars and if you’re still feeling ill, tell me.”

He nodded. He knew he probably wouldn’t, regardless of whether he still felt sick or not. But he needed her to think he was okay enough. Especially if he was gonna be driving himself there.

After about ten minutes, Ike got out of the bathroom. He hugged Kyle quickly around his stomach, which sent a jolt of nausea through him. He kept a straight face though as he hugged back lightly. “Mornin’.” he smiled a bit as Ike went off to say hi to his mom.

He went onto the bathroom and sat on the toilet seat. He set up his lancet and lancing device after washing his hands thoroughly and drying his hands off. He knew that the sickness-induced clammy hands would probably mess up his reading, or it would ruin the stuff he was using, so he knew he needed to act fast. He set out his blood monitor and testing strips before inserting a clean lancet into his lancing device He set the puncture deepness to a level 3. He pricked his finger and watched a bead of red blood ooze from the wound. He quickly reached for the blood monitor, watching the blood be pulled into the testing strip. While he waited for his reading, he shakily bandaged his finger and threw out his lancet. The monitor beeped again.

65.6 mg/dL.

“Crap…”

That was the last thing he wanted. The biting nausea in his belly had been enough to nearly keep him bedridden on his ass, and now that he had to eat something sugary? With his stomach being as upset as it was? He honestly couldn’t tell if the grumbling in his belly was from the dull nausea that pricked at him or the hunger. Intense hunger was kind of an old friend to him. A symptom of low blood sugar, which was much more common in Type 1 diabetics (such as himself) than Type 2 diabetics. In the end though, he had chalked up the illness to his low blood sugar. It would explain a lot. He walked out of the bathroom where his mom was waiting.

“Are your sugars okay, bubbi? Do you feel okay?”

“65.6.” he replied, feeling a mix of biting hunger and nausea grabbing at his stomach as a loud, rumbling gurgle squeezed its way through his stomach. He felt his cheeks redden a bit. If there was one thing that set his mom off, it was that. Her eyes widened, both at the news of his low sugars and the rumble coming from her son’s midsection. She acted quickly and grabbed him a juice box. She tossed it to him before speed walking off to the kitchen. Kyle felt a bit guilty as he stood, but a sudden bout of dizziness caused a small groan to rip from his throat.

“Ma, you don’t-“ she cut him off.

“Just sit there, Kyle. You need to eat. Drink your juice and get your sugars up a little bit. At least until I’m done here. Okay?”

He hated the way she looked at him. The worry in her eyes. The way she went into fight or flight mode as if he was gonna drop dead in a matter of minutes. He supposed it was because of both his premature birth and the fact he was a rainbow baby. It had caused Sheila to become very overprotective of him. But he hated seeing his mother worry. But he physically didn’t feel well enough to argue, so he succumbed to his ill state and began drinking his juice box.

His mom came back with a bowl of yogurt. There were some fruits in there, but she had been caring in the means that she didn’t add bananas. Kyle was not a picky eater, but he couldn’t stand even the sight of bananas. It was clear that this would surely bring his sugars up at least. The sight of food caused a dull ache of hunger to grip at his stomach as his mother sat next to him.

“Eat up.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. He wolfed it down like he hadn’t seen food in a week. His mom couldn’t help but smile. Ever since he had entered high school his appetite had completely skyrocketed. By the time he was done, he was feeling a little better. Not as nauseous. He figured it would go away with time. He stood up to clean his bowl in the sink and gave his mom a soft hug from the side.

“Thanks, Ma.” he said, a small grin tugging at his lips. She smiled and hugging him back tighter, managing to squeeze out a hiccup, which was quickly followed by his hand flying to his mouth as he burped a little. This caused her to laugh a bit.

“Aww, still the same as you were little.” she commented, to which Kyle rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his curly hair. “Yeah, yeah…” he laughed a little before cleaning off his dish. He went back to the bathroom to finish getting ready He switched his glasses out with contacts. His hair was more messy and unkept than usual, but it was nothing that his trusty trapper hat couldn’t fix. He brushed through it as well as he could and went through his normal routine before throwing his hat on. He grabbed his coat and keys before hugging his mom goodbye.

“Don’t be home later than 10, Kyle.” she said firmly. “We’re having your favorite for dinner tonight.” Kyle nodded and smiled a bit. “Got it. Love you, mom.” He poked his head into the living room, where Ike was playing on the Xbox. “Bye Ike. Love you.” Ike got up quickly and hugged his brother. “Love you too!” he chirped before rushing back to his game. Kyle’s mom watched him walk out. “Drive safe, Kyle! Keep your eyes on the road! Love you more!”

Kyle couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he got into his car and drove off. He seemed to. be in the clear, sickness wise…

For now.

…

“God damnit!”

Cartman’s angry voice rang through the air as Kyle laughed. He had just kicked Cartman’s ass for the fourth time in Smash Bros. This had been going on for a while. Stan and Kenny were watching this all play out. Cartman was the first one out, just as he had been for the last little bit. Eventually Kenny was the second one out. So it came down between Stan and Kyle. The two trash talked each other a bit as they played before Stan eventually topped Kyle.

“Fuck!” Kyle cursed loudly, hitting his knee with his fist as he glanced at Stan. “Kiss my ass.” Stan commented, shoving Kyle lightly. Kyle rolled his eyes.

Eventually, Cartman’s mom had brought out a bunch of food. Kyle’s eyes widened. Stan looked a bit appalled and Kenny looked like his eyes were gonna pop out. It was a lot of food. A lot. And Cartman’s mom was an amazing cook…so Kyle kinda braced himself for overeating. But he didn’t wanna eat too much, he knew his mom was cooking something for when he got home but it was only six o’vlock. He figured it would be digested by then. So he sat down with the rest of the boys before he began to indulge himself.

He sat alongside the rest of the boys. Cartman was wolfing it down like he hadn’t had food in years. Kenny was too, but it was understandable for him. Poor kid was lucky if he ate at all on the weekends. Even then the only meal he usually got during weekdays that was ensured was the school’s lunch, which was free to those who couldn’t afford it. Other than that he could expect a pop tart or a waffle when he got home. But that wasn’t anything like it used to be now that Kenny was in his teenage years. Kyle felt awful for him. Stan seemed to be taking things in moderation. He already had a weak stomach that was easily triggered, so he knew if he ate too fast he would end up with a massive stomachache.

“Fuck. Cartman’s mom’s a damn good cook. If I got meals like this every day I would be just as fat as Cartman.”

That got a snort out of Kyle, who nearly choked on his food as Cartman yelled at Stan. Kenny seemed to be losing his shit before going back to stuffing his mouth and occasionally slipping a few bites into his pockets when he thought nobody was watching.

Eventually, the four finished up the meal. Cartman let out a huge belch, which caused the rest of the group to roll their eyes in disgust.

“That’s fucking sick.” Kyle snapped at the brunette, which just caused him to laugh.

“Like you’re so innocent, Kahl. God, you’re such a fairy.” Cartman retorted sharply. Kyle just rolled his eyes before hearing a much louder, more disgusting burp from the other side of the room. All eyes snapped to Kenny, He had his parka pulled over his face as he blinked innocently, as if he didn’t do anything. The silence was quickly broken by laughter as Kenny just averted his eyes as if he had done nothing wrong.

“God, you two are sick.” Stan said, wiping a tear from his eye. He stood up, stretching out a bit. Kyle followed suit, yawning a little. He suddenly felt very fatigued. A small headache ripped at his skull, but he ignored it for the time being.

It couldn’t be anything. Probably just from spending the last five hours playing video games.

Right?

…

After the meal, the boys went back inside to finish up their video game tournament. It didn’t take much for him to feel a pinch in his stomach. It felt like a sudden punch to the gut. A small, but low groan ripped at Kyle’s throat as he clutched his stomach. He hoped nobody noticed. Eventually, Stan noticed.

“Dude, are you okay?” Stan asked. “You don’t look so hot.”

Kenny suddenly approached too, to see what was going on. “Yeah, Kyle. You look like you’ve got a fever or somethin’.”

Kyle opened his mouth to answer, but quickly brought a hand to his mouth to muffle what might’ve been the kraken of burps. It wasn’t pretty sounding. Nor did it feel relieving like it normally probably would’ve. It felt wet. Like it was leading up to something. Stan’s eyes immediately widened and Kenny gripped Kyle’s arm. Cartman looked up from the TV and came over.

“That’s fucking sick.” he mocked Kyle’s tone from before. Nobody laughed though. Kyle’s eyes were wide as he felt saliva pool in his mouth. He shook his head. “Not now.” He managed. Cartman just rolled his eyes, not seeming to get the hint.

“What, are you gonna be sick or something? Too much food for you?” he teased. Kyle’s shoulders heaved as his stomach gave a low, sickly rumble. He glared daggers at Cartman, shaking violently. But not from anger, but from illness. He shoved Cartman back with the last bit of strength he had. It made Cartman stagger a bit.

“I said not-“

He was cut off by a much more retch-like belch. His shoulders heaved as he gagged. Cartman seemed to understand what was going on.

“Oh Jesus Christ, I swear to God if you throw up-“

And, as if in cue, a thick stream of vomit escaped from the ginger’s mouth and went all up the front of Cartman’s shirt. Cartman was frozen in place. Looking like a deer in the headlights.

“Kahl! What the fuck?!”

“Woah, sick dude!”

“Jesus Christ!”

Cartman shoved Kyle away from him, but he didn’t seem done there. He let out another retch before surprisingly, Kenny was the one who took action. He was used to sicknesses. His family couldn’t afford vaccinations (nor did they believe in them) and he was probably the most sickly teen in all of South Park right after Kyle. Karen used to get sick a lot too, and he was used to caring for her. Kenny grabbed Kyle by the arm and helped him to Cartman’s bathroom. He helped Kyle kneel down in front of the toilet and pulled his hair back gently. It was a bit too late though as Kyle got a bit of vomit on Kenny’s parka. He coughed up bile into the toilet and finally sat back.

“Fuck, I’m sorry…” he croaked hoarsely as he noticed the vomit on Kenny’s parka, to which Kenny just shrugged it off.

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

He propped Kyle up against the bathtub and sat beside him. He closed the lid to the toilet and flushed down the vomit. Kenny crossed his legs.

“Didja feel sick this whole time, or?”

It was a simple question. But hefty, for Kyle, who sighed.

“I woke up this morning feeling like shit. I figured it was my sugars…” He hated talking about his diabetes. He felt like a ripoff version of Scott Malkinson while doing so. He preferred to keep his dignity. But he knew he could be honest to Kenny. Kenny was a better friend than he got credit for. “And my sugars were low this morning, so I figured that was why…I felt a bit better, but still felt like I had a weird cold or something, but no big deal. I guess it was a bigger deal than I thought, huh?”

He wiped stray ribbons of saliva from his mouth before standing up with Kenny’s help, who nodded understandingly. “I’m not gonna tell. Do you wanna go home?”

Kyle checked his watch. It was 8:30. He kinda did wanna go home and just be in the comfort of his own bed, with his family…so he nodded a bit. Kenny stood up and held his arm gently. “Let me help you out.”

As soon as he got out of the bathroom, Cartman walked in. Kyle glared a bit, half expecting some smartass comment, but none came. He noticed the puke stain on Cartman’s shirt. He didn’t feel the same feeling of guilt he felt after vomiting on Kenny. In fact, he felt a strange sense of pride. Cartman had it coming.

Kyle brought his fist to his mouth and burped dryly into it. It wasn’t anything like the previous ones. It was airy and quiet, almost as if it was all his stomach had to offer. Cartman glared harder, folding his arms a bit as he mumbled “Weak tit.”

“Fuck off, Cartman.” Kyle snapped. Even in his sickened state he was sure he could beat the snot out of Cartman. Cartman just rolled his eyes. Stan got in the middle before the fight could escalate. Normally they would’ve let this play out but Kyle was visibly shaking and sweating. He was not physically able to fight back like he usually would.

In the end, Cartman stormed off without another word, pissed that his shirt had even ruined. Kenny wished him a quick recovery, while Stan helped Kyle into his car. Kyle handed over the keys before the car ride faded into silence, aside from an occasional gurgle from Kyle’s middle or a dry burp that tasted and smelled of rotting turkey. . Stan had to pull over three times because of how sick Kyle was getting. He didn’t complain (much) at all though. He simply held Kyle’s hair back and allowed him to get the gross stuff out of his system. Eventually, Kyle got home.

The moment his mom saw him, she freaked out.

“Kyle?! Oh my God!” she hurried over to him. He weakly waved. “Hey, Ma…”

…

Stan explained everything. Kyle getting sick. The times he had to pull over. All of it. Kyle interjected a few times to add in a few missed details (i.e. the low sugars and how he didn’t think he was actually sick) and in the end, Sheila thanked Stan for bringing her son home safely. When Stan left, she turned to Kyle.

Oh God. Kyle hated that look.

She looked genuinely worried.

Kyle would’ve almost preferred it if she had been angry with him. At least it wouldn’t tug his heartstrings like the look of pure sadness and worry on her face did.

“Kyle, bubbi, why didn’t you call me? Or tell me you weren’t feeling well? I would’ve come to pick you up…”

Kyle wanted to retort back with some snarky comment. He was sixteen! Calling his mom to take him home?! Because he was sick?! He couldn’t deal. But he didn’t wanna tell her that.

“I…don’t know.” he opted. He couldn’t really talk past the sudden lump in his throat.

Sheila must’ve noticed this. She hugged him gently. It was a bit awkward because he was so tall and lanky, but he hugged her back lightly.

“I’m always here for you. You know that, don’t you?” she reached up to push some of his damp-with-sweat bangs out of his face. He looked down at her, seeing the genuine care in her expression. He simply nodded, not being able to speak.

“I don’t care if you’re six, seven, eight, sixteen, twenty five, forty…I’m here for you. You are my son. And I love you more than anything.”

She helped him up the stairs and to his bed. He was too weak to check his own sugars after vomiting up nearly everything in his system, so Sheila did it for him. She was much more careful and soft than he was with himself. He often rushed it just to get it over with. It was such a chore to him. But to her? She seemed to genuinely care about his health. She always did. She tsked a bit and went downstairs, grabbing him a juice box. She brought up some soup she had made for dinner as well.

“I know you’re sick, sweetheart, but you need to eat. Just get a little something in your system.”

He couldn’t even protest. Even though he had thrown up what felt like seconds ago, his stomach seemed to disagree, giving a small gurgle of hunger. He groaned in response. His stomach was really beginning to piss him off.

He felt a sudden warm hand on his shoulder. His mom had grabbed a chair. She sat beside him. His hands were shaking. A lot. So eating was a bit of a struggle, but she had helped him. He felt her gentle hand rubbing at his stomach as the food slipped down. It helped him digest his food. Ever since he was a baby she would do stuff like that, not so much anymore, but whenever he was sick. By the end, he had eaten as much as he could manage, and felt more tired than anything. His eyelids drooped. Shiela laughed a bit.

“Get some sleep, honey. I’ll check on you tomorrow.”

Kyle couldn’t even muster up the strength to reply. He simply nodded and let his head sink into the plus pillow beneath him. He nodded a bit. As his mom was on her way out, she heard a soft noise. She turned her head.

“Hey, Mom?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“I love you.”

———————————————

[Edit] rushed ending I know- if you enjoyed this be sure to leave any ideas you may have in your inbox!! I have more coming <33 i’m sorry if it’s not in character, i did try-

please reblog, it would help me loads <3

#south park #kyle broflovski #sheila broflovski #sickfic #south park fanfic #south park kyle #kyle south park #kyle broflovski south park #south park kyle broflovski #sp kyle broflovski #kyle broflovski sp #sp kyle #kyle sp #south park sickfic #south park sickfics #south park fanfiction #my writing #please reblog <3

14 notes · View notes

boxwinebaddie · 10 months

Note

First of all, Huge Fan of your Fic i've been reading it since you posted Chapter One in March or April? I'm sorry if this a weird or forward thing to ask, but do you know if there will be smut in Peppermint? I only ask because I noticed it has the content warning but Pep is rated Mature but not Explicit? Also because IMO I think you wld be good at writing it jajaja. But again, sorry if this is strange! Keep up the good work, I am really looking forward to reading Chapter 12!

omg hello hello friend! also i just checked and i think...april? *stan vc* wowza! i cant believe e've been live for three months there should be some special occasion haha if we hit four or five maybe ( i hope i finish by then jesus ) maybe ill write a special chapter!

not forward or weird at all! also that is very sweet you think i would be good at writing it because i feel like i would not ashdlksa it's so humiliating but even like writing all the makeout scenes i do behind my hands cringing shdlhsd i just feel awkward as hell writing anything even remotely steamy and everytime i put something out like that i am like is this too much or too little or too cringe or too spicy i literally have no clue ahaha

i tagged pep as mature because there are definitely mature themes like so much of kenny and bebes dialogue is pure FILTH! there are totally mildly sexual implied content ( ie. oh my god there was definitely some very unholy things happening between stan and gary that summer my goodness ) sort of leading to situations sometimes...also the boys are RAUNCHY like my word my goodness! like some of their inner monologue is like...maximum security horny jail i am clutching my pearls u dirty nasty boys

but as far as sexy sexy times go...probably not in pep...written. not that intimate stuff like that is cheap or anything, it's very valid and wonderful and an experience that means a lot of things to different people, but i just ALREADY WRITE SO MUCH and i feel like it might take away from the flow and vibe of the story which explores obviously sexual attraction and tension, but really is more focused on their personal relationship, their romantic feelings, even their platonic stuff, stuff with their families and friends...idk it wouldn't feel right to me.

i have also sakhdlkahd never written smut actually i am a little scared to try. if i did it would DEF be like very metaphor heavy and like prosey and not a lot of bowchikabowwow spicy extreme detailed action haha but if enough people were interested i might write a little embarrassing side fic with stuff in it ( is that the 5 month anniversary fic idk yikes )...i also specifically defied the laws of nature and time to make stan and kyle both 18 because it actually made me feel so icky nasty gross to have them lean in any sexual direction as minors like hell no brother! so idk close ur eyes...in m.m. if kyles bday comes up idc hes turning eighteen again i dont give a fuck close ur eyes its fine

BUT BOY OH BOY...i DOOOOOO have headcannons ;) so if u want them i can stick them under a readmore or u can dm me idk im so embarrassed im hiding behind my hands again thank u for this ask friend

ON A NOT SPICY NOTE u can totally send in asks about any kind of headcannons!!!!! i would love to answer any sort of bonus content i just like to interact with yall!!!!! so send anything u want...if its hate tho it better be spelled right or im correcting ur spelling xoxoxo

#im so embarrassing this was so embarrassing of me #but yeah i hope that helps clear that up sahdd smh #totally let me know how u feel i am crying

2 notes · View notes

maria-akira · 3 years

Text

how you meet the ahs boys + their reaction while you're having a class - PART 1

—♡—

hey yall im back again 🧍🏻‍♀️ is this what you call a headcanon?? idk BAHAHSHHA. anyways i've had this idea in my mind for a while and i wanted to share it to yall, so i hope you guys like it 😌

these also have a little back story on how you guys meet !!

also, special mention to @tatestripedsweater for helping me give ideas with jimmy's part !! thank you so much mwah 🥺❤

warnings: none! just pure fluff <3

please excuse any errors !

—♡—

~♡ TATE LANGDON:

before the pandemic, you and your family have moved into the murder house.

the house gave your family a very odd vibe, but nonetheless all of you had to bear with it because it was sold for a cheap price.

but when the pandemic arrived the country, you were stuck at home 24/7. thus, classes were online.

you met tate because of your father. tate was one of his patients and the both of you grew close.

"Y/N, what are you doing?"

tate would randomly barge in your room while having a class and you would jump out of shock.

"Jesus, Tate. Stop scaring me like that!"

tate would giggle and lay on your bed, observing the lesson that the teacher rambled about.

while you're writing notes, he would stand up and take a chair from some part of your room and sit beside you.

knowing that tate is clingy, you would warn him not to bug you and behave while you listened in class.

of course, he doesn't listen and he would place his head on your shoulder and eventually would cuddle you.

"Taaate, please let me focus."

luckily, you always keep your camera off.

"Mmm, no. I enjoy bugging you."

~♡ KIT WALKER:

one time, you were driving to school on your own and you were almost running out of gas.

luckily, you saw a gas station nearby and decided to get a fill before heading to school. and there, you met kit.

when you first laid your eyes on kit, you thought that he was the prettiest man ever. you couldn't let this chance slip, thus, you exchanged numbers with him.

you talked all day and night, the both of you were so inlove with each other and you finally decided to introduce him to your parents.

your parents loved him and you were so, so happy.

but when the pandemic came, it affected your relationship with kit.

since all schools and unis were closed down, everything went online.

when kit stayed over, he couldn't spend a lot of time with you because you had to attend classes early in the morning, till afternoon.

"Can you stay in bed with me for a little bit, darling?"

unfortunately, you woke up late that day and you missed 10 minutes of your first class. and just like that, you were stuck to your desk until afternoon.

"Kit baby, I'm sorry. I'm late for my first class. Maybe later, okay?"

as much as kit hated this whole online class thing, he would always find a way to cheer you up.

thus, he would cook you breakfast and bring it over to your room.

"C'mere, I'll feed you while you listen and write down notes."

~♡ KYLE SPENCER (PRE DEATH AND POST DEATH) :

PRE DEATH:

madison, your friend, had bugged you all week to go with her to this college frat party near your house.

you weren't the party type. you loved staying at home, watching netflix or reading some sort of fan fiction on wattpad.

but you hated being single. so, this was your chance to actually get a boyfriend.

when you arrived at the party, you immediately hated it. everything was so loud and everyone was drinking, it was definitely a new sight for you.

you were sitting on a couch that was in the balcony, with a red cup that was filled with punch. you loved being away from the commotion.

this is where you met kyle, it was love at first sight. the both of you had so much in common and you thought that he was the man of your dreams.

you exchanged snapchats and from there, you were partners-in-crime.

you and kyle had stopped going to parties ever since the pandemic arrived, which means you got to see each other less.

since the both of you were students, both of your classes went online.

one time, kyle had no classes for a day and he decided to surprise you.

that day, you were having an online presentation. both your camera and microphone were on.

"Rene Descartes was the Father of Modern Philosophy—"

as you were presenting the slide show, you were cut off by kyle's presence infront of your desk.

"I brought you food, baby!"

you would shush him and suddenly turn off your mic.

"I'm so sorry, Miss. My boyfriend arrived and I—"

kyle would go beside you and kiss you on your cheek, your classmates and teacher cooing over it.

"Miss, you better give my girlfriend a good grade."

POST DEATH:

*pretend that he survived the bus accident and had a coma, because we arent involving witchcraft here*

kyle and his fraternity were on a bus that was going to some college event at school.

on the way there, you guys snapped each other and his friends would talk to you as well.

unfortunately, they got in an accident and the bus was flipped over.

a few students, including kyle, survived the accident.

when you heard this news, you cried your heart out and you didnt talk to anyone in your family.

you and your family visited the hospital and you rushed to kyle's room, it broke your heart to see tubes in him, with machines that beeped like there was no tomorrow.

when the doctor said that kyle was in a coma, your heart sank in the deepest part of your body.

this made you stay 24/7 with him until he was discharged.

when he was discharged from the hospital, he was not his usual self. the bubbly, energetic kyle was gone. instead, he was so confused with everything.

kyle's mom made him stay with you until he got his memory back, and you were more than glad to help.

but this took a toll on your studies because your classes were online due to a pandemic.

everyday in class, you would let kyle sit beside you and let him observe what you were doing.

"We're in Science class, Kyle. You were really good in Science, you helped me alot with my homeworks."

most of the time, you would help kyle develop his speech and his writing. but it was difficult for you.

"S-Sci... S-Sci-en.. ce?"

"Yes, Kyle! Good job, now one more time."

~♡ JIMMY DARLING:

ever since you were a kid, you loved going to carnivals, your parents would always bring you there every weekend.

there were carnivals almost everywhere, and your family brought you to all of them.

to you, each carnival was unique. the clowns and magicians in each carnival had different tricks up their sleeve.

but as you grew up, these carnivals slowly went out of business. except for one, which was elsa's cabinet of curiosities.

you decided to visit it one day just for a trip down memory lane, you never really had expectations for this place.

when you arrived there, there were a few people that were seated.

the show started and it instantly made you smile, they reminded you of your younger days. oh how you wished to be a child again.

you watched through a few acts, and the last act was a man named jimmy darling

when he came on stage, you locked eyes with him. there was something about him that really struck you.

after the performance ended, jimmy ran over to you and got your number. from there, you always talked and you would visit him regularly.

the regular visits stopped when the pandemic struck the country, forcing entertainment establishments, schools and unis to close down.

for the mean time, all your classes went online. you told jimmy that he could stay with you until things went back to normal.

on an early tuesday morning, you were in english class. jimmy was with your parents preparing breakfast, and you were falling asleep while your teacher discussed about the odyssey.

unlike tate, jimmy would always knock on your door. as his mom always taught, never enter anyone's room without knocking.

jimmy would giggle at your sleeping sight, your head lowered and your hair messed up.

"Hey, sweetheart, wake up! You're in class."

jimmy's timing was perfect. as he woke you up, you were called by the teacher.

"Miss Y/N, Do you think Odysseus was loyal to his wife?"

obviously, you panicked. but jimmy was there to save you. since jimmy was fond of reading, he finished the book and he whispered the answer to you before you could turn on your mic.

"No, Ma'am. Odysseus had an affair with Calypso and Circe."

once you got your teacher's approval, you turned off your microphone and let out a sigh of relief.

"You're lucky that I'm here to help you."

jimmy would joke and you would jump up to him, tackling him into a hug.

"I'm always lucky to have you, baby."

~♡ DANDY MOTT

at a young age, you were exposed to different types of fabrics. denim, silk, corduroy, neoprene. they name it, you've probably seen it.

your mother worked as a fashion designer. she managed to open a shop in the city and it was a great success for you and your family.

your mother has styled famous models. because of this, the shop was promoted and broadcasted all over the country. one day when you came from school, you saw a long line outside the shop.

that day, the staff count was low. there were only 5 employees instead of 10. you didn't exactly know why, so you decided to help.

after what felt like several hours, the long line finally dissolved into 2 customers, which was a mother and her son. they looked through the shop and the mother instantly loved everything.

her son, on the other hand, was trying on this lilac tux that your mother made.

you assisted her son and when you locked eyes, the both of you smiled. you entertained him throughout his shopping spree and the both of you never broke eye contact.

this was how you met dandy. he made the first move by getting your number, and of course you gave it back.

from there, the both of you talked day and night, even when you were in school.

since dandy's mother, gloria, loved your mother's shop so much, she would invite you and your mother regularly to her mansion.

gloria and your mother got along very well, and it was like gloria was your second mother.

so when your mother went to paris for a fashion show, she let you stay in gloria's mansion until she came back.

but to your dismay, your mother was not able to come back due to a pandemic that was all over the world. flights, establishments, and schools closed down.

of course you were sad, but you didn't worry so much because gloria treated you like her real daughter.

classes were online and you were forced to attend them everyday in the shared room you had with dandy.

since you had to get ready for class early in the morning, you would quietly get out of bed because dandy was sometimes a light sleeper.

it was around 8am and you were in math class. in your school, cameras were required to be turned on at all times. you thought this was a shit rule, but you had no choice to comply.

you were drawing some circles with a compass for an example that was being discussed by your teacher, when all of a sudden dandy was beside you.

"Dandy, sweetie, what are you doing up so early? Go back to sleep.."

dandy would pout at the lack of attention that you were giving him. since he loved holding your hand, you let him hold your other hand that you didn't use for writing.

"You're doing Math instead of cuddling with me!"

—♡—

i'm actually super proud of this omg !! i hope yall enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it 🥺❤

—♡—

516 notes · View notes

checked-windows · 3 years

Text

I WOULD PICK YOU TILL THE END.

Aaron hotchner x gn reader

Notes: reader doesn't have any pronouns so should fit anyone

Warnings : none. A kiss (maybe)

"I love you" Aaron whispered as you moved around the apartment packing your things. "I love you too" you responded equally as quiet, only pausing your movements for a brief second "But I can't do this anymore Aaron. I'm not going to make you decide who you want because I know you and I know you'll try to make everyone happy but yourself. I'm taking the choice away from you. Goodbye Aaron"

You left his apartment steeling every muscle in your body to not turn back around and ask him who he wanted, beg him to want you. But you kept walking away, from the apartment, from that life, from Aaron.

8 years later

The BAU had decided that this unsub was in their lists of worst people known to man. They were breaking into houses with families and slowly picking them off one by one starting with the children finishing with the fathers. They had been called in by the Situational Counter Unit or the SCU, who had caught the case and were the ones diving in headfirst into crime scenes and bringing in suspects. However, they had admitted to needing help narrowing down a list or well creating a list, just trying to find someone to get it to stop as their "ask questions later" policy was starting to get them heat. It didn't even seem like the SCU Unit Chief had called them in, it was their section teeth who had claimed they would be happy to let the BAU lead the investigation. Possibly.

The BAU arrived at the building to a group rushing back and forth with files and notes seemingly trying to collate all of their evidence into one place while trying not to bowl each other over. A tall bald man spotted them and waved them over.

"You must be the Behavioural Analyst Unit" he greeted "Welcome to 'The Den', I'm Agent Leo Monroe. Let's get you settled in the conference room away from all this noise" He directed them up to a windowless room hidden away from prying eyes soon enough three more people followed, two more men and a woman.

"Agents Martin James, Lucy Hay and Kyle Brennan. The chief is running late claims to be stuck in traffic but will be here soon. I hope" Leo said with a small smile that showed he was used to this sort of thing and files were handed out to each of them. Occasionally Leo's phone would chime and he'd snicker at whatever the messages were. You finally arrived almost 20 minutes later, sweating and ready to commit a felon.

"Sorry I'm late. Got stuck behind a truck that clearly had no idea where it was going, debated slashing his tires so that he at least had a reason to be driving a quarter of the speed limit" you fumed as you breezed into the room, throwing a black jacket over the back of a chair and dropping into it. You glanced around quickly not taking in any infeomation before ducking your head into a file only for your eyes to shooting back up to the unfamiliar faces. And the one familiar one. That you hoped you'd never see again.

"Ah you must be the BAU, they told me you were coming" you did try and keep the dispair out of your voice but you kept glancing back to Aaron who looked like he had seen a ghost. Aaron himself hadn't been expecting you to be here. He hadn't expected you to have cut your hair to the length it was now or for your eyes to have hardened as much as they had over the year. He hadn't expected the wave of emotions to hit him so hard that he almost fell over.

There was more very brief introductions before you shook said man's hand.

"(y/n) (l/n), Unit Chief" you greeted and watched his eyes take you, every change and reading your body language before you spun and started spewing details of this case that you knew, trying to ignore how you felt seeing him once more and what bubbled up in your heart.

"(y/n), it's good to see you" Aaron said when the room had cleared of agents from both teams.

"Uh, it's good to see you too" you tried to sound confident and sure of yourself but ended up mentally slapping yourself for sounding unsure "Would've been better on nicer circumstances but beggers can't be choosers"

"Your right" he responded and you saw his Adams apple bob when he swallowed "So Unit Chief huh? What happened to 'fuck the police'?"

"Oh don't start" you said with a laugh and his lips quirked slightly "People change"

"That they do" he agreed nodding.

"So how've you been? How's Haley?" you asked moving the folder on the table almost missing how he winced.

"Ups and downs. Haley died a couple years back." his said quietly and your head shot up. You and Haley had never gotten along but you'd never had wished her any ill.

"Jesus Aaron." you breathed and gripped his shoulder comfortingly "I'm sorry for your loss"

He smiled sadly at you and in that moment you realised exactly how much Aaron had loved her. Yes he may had loved you but he had loved her more, it made sense.

You were dragged away almost physically by Lucy who was trying to show you a connection she and Doctor Reid had made with the unsubs drop off points but your mind wasn't in it. You had nodded and sent them with Agent Morgan and Prentiss to see if they could find anything else out from the scenes themselves. You had retreated to your office just to take a small breather, even as you sat at your desk you were eyeing the small cabinet at the opposite side of the room. It was like it was dragging you towards it as you inched forward and unlocked it, pulling the small box out. Photos of you and Aaron spilled out when you had opened it, keeping it here was supposed to keep the need to look at them away but clearly your brain had other plans especially when memories bubbled to the surface.

Dates, adventures, visiting him in hospital because he got hurt again. First times. Last times.

Everything flooded through your mind leaving you sitting on the carpeted floor, tears filling your eyes. You had missed him, when you had said you had loved him you meant it but even after so many years seeing him brought fresh waves of affection and love into your heart. You decided to put on your Unit Chief face and squash every single emotion down so that it didn't bother you. There was time to cry after this case.

As it turned out their was time to cry during the case too. As you realised almost 20 hours later running on no sleep, terrible coffee and spite. The words on paper, screens and boards were floating and spiralling in on each other making it impossible to read and if Aaron tried to tell you what to do one more time you were going to shoot him and you didn't care about the repercussions.

"You should-" he started after following you into your office.

"Do not tell me what to do Aaron Hotchner" you growled before he could even finish his sentence, a finger pointed at his face. He rolled his eyes which seemed to irritate you more than it should have.

"I'm not telling you what to do, I'm offering a suggestion" he grumbled and you weren't sure if it was the lack of sleep, the pent up emotions or something else entirely but you exploded.

"Get the hell out of my office!" you basically screamed at him and he took a step back before turning towards the door.

"Make a change from you walking out" he hissed lowly and you wanted to hit him.

"I walked out to help you" you shouted slamming your hands onto your wooden desk causing him to turn back to you.

"I didn't need the help, you didn't even give me a choice. You took that choice away from me" he shouted back and briefly your brain supplied that this was very unprofessional and that everyone in the office could definitely hear what was taking place in your office.

"I knew you were going to pick her. I'm not an idiot Aaron. A fool yes. But not an idiot" you yelled hands landing on your desk again. Only softer this time. "I took that choice from you because I knew you and I knew Haley was your everything. I. I was a placeholder until your issues worked themselves out"

"You had no idea what was going on! It was nothing like that" he hissed as if he had realised that everyone was listening it. You pushed away from the desk, taking in the hard lines on his face and the set of his shoulders. You huffed as you swing the door open.

"I knew exactly what it was. I knew exactly how you felt about her. You married her didn't you? I knew everything Aaron. That's why I took the choice away from you, because I wanted you to be happy even if it wasn't with me. You loved Haley, you should have been with her" you said quietly, all the fight had left your body as you stepped out of the office squaring your own shoulders and walking past both teams to the door.

"Chief" Leo called out and you turned your head to face him, catching Aaron's stunned face still in your office.

"I'm going home. I suggest everyone gets some rest. Home. Hotel. Break room. I don't care" you said slowly and continued your mission to get to your car without any more damage. You got the the parking garage before realising that you didn't have your bag, which meant that you didn't have your keys. You sighed and threw your head back trying to stem the tears building in your eyes.

"Here" a voice came from behind you and you sighed again. You kept watching the ceiling, refusing to look at him "(y/n)"

Your resolve crumbled in front of his eyes, as your shoulders slumped and you slowly turned to face him. He had your bag in one hand and a small almost comforting smile on his face. You took the bag from him with a small "Thanks" he nodded turning back towards one of the SUV's that the BAU were travelling in and you had to force yourself into your own car to not call for him.

The case continued quickly after the breakdown, you avoided Aaron like the plague and in turn he didn't try to speak to you about anything other than the case on the odd occasion you ended up in the same room together together. No blood had been shed in the final meeting with the unsub. Luckily the man had given up fairly quickly and had allowed himself to be handcuffed without much of a fight.

You sat in your office, head resting on your hands after greeting farewell to the BAU and sending your own agents home for a well earned couple days off. You were ignoring the piles of paperwork that had began to accumulate with every ounce of willpower you possessed.

"(y/n), are you OK?" Aaron's voiced echoed into the small room and you groaned into your palms. He chuckled slightly which cause you to look up at him with a frown.

"Why are you here Aaron?" you asked, none of the fight from the past few days was left and you resigned to just leaning on the desk.

"I could ask you the same question" he asked and you sighed "I was hoping we could have a talk before I left, clear what ever this has been up"

"Aaron. I'm sorry, just forget about it" you said taking a deep breath "Emotions were high and I hadn't slept. I didnt mean it"

"No. You did, but that's ok" he responded sitting on the chair opposite "You were right. I would have tried to make everyone happy even if it meant I wasn't. You knew that. You knew how I felt about Haley but you never knew how I felt about you. You left me with one option and most would say that I couldn't have loved you both at the same time but I did. I loved you both equally."

"Aaron you seriously don't have to" you try but he was holding up a hand to silence you.

"I would have picked you (y/n)" he said quickly at the end "I would have always picked you"

Your eyes snapped up to meet his and you huffed a small disbelieving laugh at him. You weren't sure what had happened really one minute you had been sitting opposite on another, the next you were pressed against his front pressing your lips against his. Aaron's hand cupped the back of your head and he pulled you closer with his other hand on your waist.

"I would still pick you" he mumbled against your lips before you were pressing them together once more.

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #aaron hotchner x reader #thomas gibson #criminal minds fanfiction

50 notes · View notes

dear-wormwoods · 3 years

Note

Could you please elaborate on your belief that Kyle is fatphobic? It’s another you’ve brought up before and called “for another time”.

This is definitely a case of "I love Kyle to death, HOWEVER..." because it is one of the only aspects of his character that I wish he'd just grow out of already... but sadly I don't think he will.

Let's get the obvious out of the way first - Kyle's go-to insult for Cartman is that he's fat. He's made fun of Cartman for being fat since the beginning of time, and he's showing no signs of stopping. There are so many other things he could rip on Cartman for, and Kyle knows that. He's even listed them off before, in The Death of Eric Cartman: "...he's a fat, racist, self-centered, intolerant, manipulating, sociopath." Even in this case, when he actually branches out and highlights Cartman's real flaws, he still uses fat as the first and foremost insult. It's thrown in with a bunch of glaringly harmful personality traits because Kyle views being fat as just as bad as being a racist, or a sociopath. Maybe he even thinks it's worse, since it's the first thing he says. I don't think he actively, knowingly tells himself "being fat is the worst thing a person can be", but subconsciously I think he does throw being fat in with other, actually despicable, things. Kyle could be more creative with his insults, he has the vocabulary for it, but he doesn't feel the need to branch out because 'fat' is the be-all, end-all for him.

Now, for a long time I figured it was just a Cartman-specific thing. Yes, Kyle calls him fat more often than anyone else does, but it's not like he's that hateful toward all fat people, right? Wrong. Enter, Raising the Bar. The way Kyle reacts to the people on mobility scooters is with outright disdain. His tone when he says "Jesus Christ, you can't even walk down an aisle to get your candy?" and "Why do they even allow those things in stores?" is just like... really shitty and judgmental. He then goes on to self righteously tell Cartman, while calling him a fatass again, that he's on his way to needing a mobility scooter himself if he doesn't change his ways, which is, uh, reminiscent of fatphobes in real life pretending to care about the "health" of fat people while simultaneously treating them like trash.

He later says, "How can we make people see the difference between being sensitive to obesity and letting fat people walk all over us?!" and later still, "Obesity is costing taxpayers millions, and some are taking advantage of a system that is flawed." Kyle is absolutely that specific brand of fatphobe who would disagree with body positivity because it "promotes obesity" and demand that fat people stop loving themselves until they lose weight, but of course it's not fatphobia!! No of course not! He just cares about all of all the "health problems" they must have. But... no, dude, it's really just about being uncomfortable with fat people existing as they are. He doesn't actually have any sensitivity to obesity.

It is my personal headcanon that Kyle's fatphobia does stem from his mother being fat herself and not wanting to "end up like her". I don't think he consciously lets it impact his relationship with her, because he loves and respects his mom more than anyone in the world, but given how he responds to other fat people I seriously doubt he's never thought about her weight before. And to add to that, I think he has the potential to have a really unhealthy, even disordered, relationship with food because of it as he gets older. Kyle lacks self confidence, especially in his appearance, and he feels the need to exert control over whatever he can in a life that is mostly completely out of his control. He takes out his own insecurities on people who are bigger than him and feels justified in doing so because he "cares about their health" or because it's Cartman, and Cartman has said and done worse things to him.

I mean, as an actual fat person, I hope he does grow out of actively shitting on fat people for being fat. But, I think it's more likely that he'll do everything he can to stay thin and continue to judge fat people under the guise of wanting them to be "healthier" unless the core issue is addressed in the therapy sessions he'll inevitably end up in for a myriad of reasons.

As an aside - Cartman is fatphobic too but in that SPECIFIC way fat men are toward fat women. He constantly belittles Sheila for being fat, and the way he forced Heidi to gain weight and then made fun of her for it and banged a drum when she walked down the hallway... I can't. The difference between him and Kyle in this case is that he doesn't feel the need to justify or sugarcoat his disdain, he just embraces it.

#asks #south park #kyle broflovski #sp meta #meta #my meta #rambling about kyle

29 notes · View notes

ssa-babygirl · 4 years

Text

Out of My League [Part 2]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.5k (ohohohoho i went OVERBOARD with the dialogue here I am sorry for all the useless exposition)

Summary: Most things have changed in the last 10 years, but it’s safe to say that a few things stayed exactly the same. Mixed POV

Warning(s): Mentions of past bullying, mentions of cheating, mentions of kidnapping, general criminal minds stuff, cursing, VERY VERY BRIEF MENTION of a miscarriage and leukemia like it’s one sentence and that’s all

Author’s Note: The moment yall have been waiting for! They grow up so fast!! I’m going on a quick trip this week and then heading back to school a few days later, so the next part may take a little longer, but I’m super excited to write it!!

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Las Vegas, Nevada, 2004

(Spencer’s POV)

My first case out on the field was not a pleasant one. Well, it rarely is, that’s what happens when you work for the FBI to catch serial killers. For the first couple of weeks at the BAU, I helped them consult on cases, but they weren’t sure I was ready to go out on the field with them. After I got my weapon certification, Gideon told me he wanted me to come along on the next case because I was familiar with the area. There had been a series of child abductions near Vegas, my hometown. I would have been much more nervous about traveling had I not been able to see my mom while I was there. I hadn’t visited her in a while and the guilt was gnawing at me.

The first day was brutal. Hotch made some of us go back to the hotel late at night, but it was hard for us to sleep. JJ hated working cases about children, so she went to have a quick drink at the hotel bar, where she promptly forgot her purse and had to call me from her room to go get it for her. I had no hope of getting any rest that night, so I figured I’d take a walk down the hall and try to clear my head.

There was no sign of the purse at first glance, no small black clutch on the bar like JJ said. But there was a woman cleaning glasses behind the counter, maybe she knew where the purse was.

As I approached the bar, the woman’s features took a familiar shape and triggered a distant memory. Seeing her face again was like coming home after a long drive without a map, squinting through the dark and hoping the headlights would get brighter when finally, you’re pulling onto a road that you know by heart.

I didn’t need to look at her nametag, I already knew who she was, but judging by her polite smile borne solely out of the courtesy required to work in the service industry, she didn’t recognize me. In her defense, I had grown about a foot and a half since the last time she saw me. And I got a freaking haircut.

“Y-Y/N?”

She looked up from her rags and scrunched up her face in confusion.

“Okay, so you definitely know me, and I am so sorry about this, but I can’t quite place it. You look so familiar, though, I just… I meet a lot of people with this job, I’m so sorry, I forgot your name.”

I grinned, she still had that same habit of apologizing every five seconds, “I don’t really have that problem, eidetic memory and all.”

Her eyes widened, “Spencer? Spencer Reid!”

I laughed and nodded.

“You’re so tall now! What has it been, like, 10 years? Oh my goodness, come here.” She awkwardly leaned over the bar and hugged me. She still used the same shampoo.

“How ya been, kid?”

“I’m good! H-How are you?”

“Doing fine, thanks. What brings you back to good ol’ Sin City?”

“I’m here for work.”

“Oh, and what are you doing now?” She leaned on the counter and gazed up with curious eyes, “Helping the doctors at Area 51?”

Good to know she still had jokes, “No actually, I’m with the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI.”

“Woah, you’re a fed now?”

“Yeah, we’re investigating a series of--”

“Kidnappings. Yeah. Scary shit. Can I get you a drink?”

“No, I’m good.”

“You close to catching the guy?”

“Unfortunately, no.”

“Any of the kids turn up?”

“Unfortunately, yes. We found one boy this morning. He… didn’t make it.”

Her face dropped to a look of worry I hadn’t seen since she took off my blindfold that day on the football field, “Name. I need a name,” her voice grew hoarse.

“I can’t really disclose that information.”

“Spencer, please. Every day my kid comes home from school and asks me if I was watching the news.”

I couldn’t deny the way my heart sank at the news, but I could sure as hell ignore it, “Y-You have kids?”

“One. Little Jamie. His best friend, Robbie, is missing.” Robbie Carter, age five, he’s been missing for the past two weeks. He’s likely dead, but we still haven’t found him.

“Every time someone misses school he gets scared they got taken too. Baby Boy doesn’t understand flu season yet.”

“How old is he?” I had to get her mind off of this. I don’t want to worry her.

“Five. Just started kindergarten. Wanna see a picture?” Seems like I succeeded.

“Sure.”

She whipped out her phone and pulled up a picture of Jamie on his first day of school, backpack far too big for his body. Y/N was posed next to him, the picture too small to show that she was crying ever so slightly.

“Adorable, right?”

I couldn’t stop the grin spreading across my face, “Cute kid. Looks just like you.”

She looked back at the photo and smiled softly, “Except the eyes. He’s got his dad’s eyes.”

I glanced down at her hand holding the phone and was greeted with a pleasant surprise, “I’m guessing Jamie’s dad isn’t in the picture?”

Offense flickered across her features for a second, her eyebrows twitching and lips pursing, “How’d you know?”

“No ring.”

“You do work for the FBI.”

“Would you mind telling me what happened?”

“You know, you’re supposed to be the one spilling your sorrows to the bartender, not the other way around.”

“You don’t have to tell me, just thought we could catch up, I haven’t seen you in ten years.”

She sighed, returning her phone to the front pocket in her apron, “Remember Kyle Brothers?”

“Oh, do I? Yeah, of course, I remember your high school boyfriend, Y/N. What tipped you off, the eidetic memory, or the fact he used to beat me up after gym class?” It was more like the intense rage and jealousy I had when they got back together after football season ended.

“God, see, I always knew he was an asshole, but it never seemed to faze me, I’m so sorry about that.”

“You did what you could. And you apologize too much.”

“Sor--”

She froze mid-word and made a face as she realized once again that she was about to apologize yet again. I stifled a chuckle, but she laughed and grabbed a rag from the counter to finish cleaning the glasses.

“So Kyle?”

“Yes, Kyle. We broke up again before college, I was going out of state and didn’t wanna do long distance, you know all that. I was in a really bad place during my senior year of college, so after graduation, I decided to move back home for a bit, spend some time with my mom--”

“How is she?”

“She’s great! Moved to D.C. with my dad a while back.”

“I should visit her, Quantico isn’t far.”

She returned a genuine smile, “She would love that.”

“Sorry I interrupted you, keep going.”

“You’re fine. Long story short, moving back home for a few months turned into having a one night stand with my ex. Which turned into us getting engaged nine months later while I’m exhausted and holding my son.”

“Well, that’s a fun birth story for Jamie.”

“Yeah, ‘Happy Birthday, sweetie, your father proposed to me while you were, like, an hour old and then cheated on me six months later.”

“Seriously?”

“Yep.” She popped the p, “Came home and heard two things: Jamie fussing in his sleep from the playpen and bedsprings squeaking in our room.”

“I’m guessing that you guys were done for good after that?”

“Nice detective work.”

“Technically, I’m a profiler, not a detective, as they typically work in local police departments and I work for the federal government, not a precinct--”

“Jesus, kid, you’re gonna put the poor lil lady to sleep,” I turned around and saw Morgan crossing the lobby to the bar, still in his work clothes.

“If I'm yawning it’s from my double shift, not his rambling. It’s been a while since I heard a good Spencer Reid knowledge dump.”

“You two know each other?” He leaned on the bar and I could sense him turning on the classic Derek Morgan charm.

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Uh, Y/N, this is SSA Derek Morgan, we work together, Morgan, this is Y/N L/N, we went to high school together.” The “I had a huge crush on her” was silent.

“Nice to meet you, doll,” he reached out a hand to shake yours. His eyes lingered on you for a bit too long, and I recognized the look in her eyes from the way she talked to Kyle in the halls before our study sessions, and I didn’t like any of that one bit.

Derek turned back to me, “JJ sent you down here a while ago, she’s looking for you.”

I glanced at Y/N and tried to hide the cocktail of emotions in my mind, “I guess I just lost track of time.”

He probably caught onto something because his regular teasing smirk flashed on across his face, “You guess, sure, loverboy, I’ll be in our room. Nice meeting you, Y/N.” He left and she waved, watching him as he left.

“JJ?” She asked, turning back to me.

“Coworker of mine, she left her purse down here and sent me to get it for her.”

“Oh, Blondie from earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“She seemed nice. So pretty!” She reached below the bar and pulled out the small black purse that was left behind about an hour before, holding it up to me and cocking an eyebrow.

“Yep.”

“How long have you two been working together? Long enough to be more than coworkers?”

I laughed uncomfortably, “Uh, n-no, actually this is actually my first case on the field, before this I only really helped the team consult on cases, but this one was urgent and I wanted to visit my mom so they brought me along.”

“Well, send Diana my love.”

“Of course. And if you hear anything from Jamie about another missing kid, give us a call.” I reached into his pocket and pulled out a card, sliding it to her and leaving with a sympathetic smile, wishing I could say more.

(Reader POV)

About a week after you ran into Spencer, you were closely following the story as it unfolded on the news. Another kid had gone missing, the second in two weeks. His name was Drew Olson, he was a year older than Jamie. They didn’t find a body yet, so there was still hope. Robbie hadn’t turned up either, which was the best news you had about him. No other bodies have shown up yet, and the cause of death for the boy they found was starvation, so the guy probably didn’t want to hurt these kids.

Regardless of whether or not the situation was actually dangerous, the school still increased security, since two of the victims were students. The pickup line was heavily monitored by teachers and faculty to make sure all students went home with their parents. You had gotten there a bit later than usual, forcing you to the back of the crowd where you couldn’t see the kids as they came out of the building.

When you finally got up towards the front, there were only a handful of kids left.

And Jamie wasn’t one of them.

Panic started to twist your stomach into knots, but the rational part of your brain clawed at the inside of your skull saying he was just inside, he was waiting in a classroom, he was safe.

You pushed through to the teacher that was keeping track of names on her clipboard. She was younger, just about your age, and wore wire-framed glasses that complimented her dark braids. She gave a warm smile and asked for your child’s name.

“Brothers, Jamie Brothers.”

“Alrighty, let’s see--” she paused as her finger stopped over a name highlighted by a bright green, indicating that the child had been picked up: Jamie Brothers.

“He’s not here.”

“What? What do you mean he’s not here?” The part of your brain that said he was safe fucked right off and left you a shaking mess on the pavement. The teacher reached an arm out and held you by the elbow as your knees buckled beneath you. Other parents’ attention was suddenly directed towards you.

“Ma’am, the sheet says he was picked up already.”

“But by who? Not me! So who the hell took my son?” All eyes were on you as you didn’t even bother to control the volume of your voice.

“Mrs. Brothers, please remain calm, I’m sure there’s been a mistake, I can send someone in to find him inside the school.”

“Please…” You whimpered, unable to find your breath.

...Give us a call…

Spencer’s words echoed in your mind and you knew what you had to do, so you scrambled through your bag for the card you were given the week before. You frantically cursed under your breath as you searched for your wallet. You finally found it, taking it out with your phone so you could call the number on the card. It rang once, twice, three times before an unfamiliar voice crackled through on the other side.

“Agent Hotchner.”

“Are you with the FBI?”

“...Yes, who is this?”

“My name is Y/N L/N, Spencer Reid gave me this number if I knew anything.”

“Do you have information regarding the recent abductions?”

“My son’s been taken.” You could feel the lump in your throat nearly restricting any words from coming out.

“Hold on, ma’am, where are you?”

“I’m at the school, he’s not here. I came to get him and he’s not here, I don’t know what to do!”

“Miss L/N, stay put, we’re on our way.” The call ended with a click and suddenly the world went quiet. There was nothing but the rush of blood pounding in your ears. All you could do was stare blankly at nothing in particular as the phone fell from your hand, hitting the pavement, your knees following quickly behind. You felt the bruises on impact, but you couldn’t care less about how much pain you were in, not when you felt this numb. Your pain didn’t matter anymore, all that mattered was that Jamie was missing and you were powerless to help. The remaining parents surrounded you, all clutching the shoulders of their children, their safe children, the ones they didn’t have to call the fucking FBI to pick up from school today.

When your brain was able to process information again, you noticed the school parking lot had filled with police cars, including two large black SUVs. You squinted through the inappropriately bright sunlight and the bitter tears in your eyes to see a tall man in a dark suit approach you. Behind him, a scrawny young man in a plaid buttondown was following closely.

You recognized him right away this time.

“Spencer,” your voice was barely a whisper as you attempted to stand on your shaking legs. You looked straight past the man in the suit and scrambled over to him. Before you could even reach him, his arms were stretched out to you, enveloping you in a tight hug as soon as you were close enough.

Your heart had to be beating out of your chest, and you were sure he felt it against him. The tears running down your cheeks stained his shirt, soaking him to the skin as he cradled your head against his chest, trying to do whatever he could to make you feel safe again, no matter how scared he was.

The man in the suit was now joined by an older man in a brown jacket and the man you met at the bar the other night, Derek, you think his name was. The suit turned to you and Spencer and introduced himself as Agent Hotchner, the man you spoke to on the phone. He asked you to describe what happened when you arrived, if you saw anyone who looked out of place, if you saw evidence of a struggle. Spencer’s arms never left your frame the whole time you spoke.

“Thank you very much, Miss L/N, I promise we’ll find your son, we have time on our side. Reid, stay with her in the meantime, Morgan, go question the parents, Gideon and I will talk to the monitors and see if they knew who picked Jamie was picked up by.”

“Yes, sir.”

All the men left to complete their tasks except for Spencer, who was supposed to stay put with you. The second you were alone with him once again, your face returned to the spot on his dampened shirt where it had previously been. One of his hands was planted firmly on your upper back, the other stroking your hair between his fingers.

It’s strange, really. Last time you saw him he was just a kid. A brilliant, sweet, small kid. The kid who’s hair you’d fuck with. The kid you held after his bullies hurt him. Then you don’t see him for over a decade and suddenly the roles are reversed. He was tall enough to rest his chin on your head now, which you had mixed feelings about, but you couldn’t deny it calmed you down. Almost as much as his quick yet steady heartbeat drumming right in your ear. The kid was still skinny, but his hugs were still warm.

“You’re alright, we’re gonna find him,” he whispered into your hair, but you had a feeling those words weren’t only for you. After a few minutes, the three other agents returned to where you and Spencer stood, alerting the two of you that the team would be heading back to the police station where you were welcome to wait with them. Derek figured you were too shaken to drive yourself, so he offered to let you ride along with him and Spencer in the SUV, which you did not hesitate to accept.

Once at the station, you were greeted by the blonde from the bar. What was her name again?

“Jennifer Jareau, I’m the press liaison for the team. You can call me JJ.”

She sat with you while Spencer worked with the others on the case. You wanted to be updated whenever progress was made, but she told you that wasn’t totally possible. Regardless of how against the rules it was, she still gave you the profile. The unsub likely worked with children and knew them and faculty well enough to enter the building and take the kids without being noticed. They may be a parent going through a loss, as no evidence of sexual assault or any physical violence was found on the only body save for light ligature marks on the wrists. Due to the relatively nonviolent nature of the crime, the unsub could be a woman. They likely live alone since they are keeping several young boys in their home. Although this likely wasn’t the work of a pedophile, a trafficking ring could not be ruled out yet.

You suddenly understood why the victims’ families aren’t supposed to know the profile. You thought it would make you feel better, but it only made you feel worse. JJ opened up another box of tissues for you, got you water, and offered you snacks, but there was no way you could get anything down. Every sound, every person that passed the window, every buzz of JJ’s phone sent your stomach plummeting down a death drop. You had just calmed yourself down from yet another panic attack when you saw agents strapping on kevlar vests and putting their guns into their holsters.

They knew where the kids were.

(Spencer’s POV)

I wasn’t allowed to see her before we left. I couldn’t tell her where I was going, I couldn’t tell her that Jamie would be okay, I couldn’t tell her anything. I barely spoke to her since we got back to the station, and that was hours ago. Now I-- we just have to leave her there again.

This was my first time going out on the field in this capacity. I’d never had to step out of that SUV with my gun out, ready to shoot anyone who threatened the lives of my team or any hostages they may have. I’d never had to strap on a kevlar vest and worry about the potential bruises that may be left behind by being hit with bullets. I’d never had to worry about not coming back before.

“Don’t be worried. If your hands shake you won’t get a clear shot,” Gideon reminded me in the car, as if I’d be able to get a clear shot with a steady hand anyway.

The unsub was a woman named Harriet Yanonovich. According to hospital records pulled by Garcia, our new tech analyst, her son had recently passed after a short and sudden battle against leukemia. This came shortly after Harriet had a miscarriage that triggered a chemical imbalance, degrading her mental health, which resulted in the trigger, losing her job at the elementary school that the boys had each been taken from. I would have felt bad for her if she hadn’t taken my friend’s son away from her.

But she did, and now I just have to hope she didn’t hurt him.

We arrived at Harriet’s house fairly quickly. Hotch sent Morgan and me around the back, he and Gideon would take the front. As we rounded the back of the house, we discovered that she had a storm cellar under her deck. The doors were closed with a heavy padlock. Morgan aimed his gun to shoot it off the chain.

“Don’t do that. The bullet would ricochet and hit you in the knee.”

He lowered his weapon, “You got a better idea, pretty boy?”

“Yes, actually.” I quietly crept onto the deck, lifting the welcome mat from in front of the sliding glass door into the absolute wreck of a kitchen. Under the mat was a simple looking key.

“She’s a school teacher going through a depressive episode, not a criminal mastermind.”

“Alright then, genius,” he rolled his eyes, “Let’s see if it even works.”

I inserted the key into the lock, hearing a click and turning it with little difficulty. The shackle popped open. I gently removed it from the chains, trying my hardest not to make any noise that would alarm anyone in the cellar. Unwrapping the chains from the handles, I turned back to face Morgan.

“I accept your apology.” I attempted to muster my smuggest smile, but it was hard to mask the dread and worry on my face.

“Yeah, yeah, open up.”

He grabbed one handle and I grabbed the other, sliding the metal doors open and revealing a staircase into a shadowy basement.

“You first.” Morgan nudged my shoulder.

“What? No way! Morgan, this is serious!”

“So go! It’s your girl’s kid!”

He was right. Not about Y/N being my girl, because she wasn’t (though the thought did briefly replace the anxiety in my heart with pure light that I hadn’t felt since I was twelve), but I was still doing this for her. This case wasn’t just a job for me. This was for Y/N. For Jamie. Y/N deserves to see her son again, I owe her that much.

Derek would learn about my fear of the dark much later, but from how fast I jumped down those stairs into that cellar, he’d never been able to tell.

Against the farthest wall, there were four young boys all curled up in a corner. From the limited light, I could see they were all covered in varying levels of filth, the cleanest boy baring the face I had seen on Y/N’s phone screen. The boys all looked terrified, the two dirtiest looking thin and weak against the ties that bound them to a water pipe. I called up to Morgan to come down and lowered my gun.

“I’m Dr. Spencer Reid with the FBI, I’m here to help you guys, okay?” The boys all nodded. Morgan helped me untie their wrists.

“Do you know where Mrs. Yanonovich went?”

“She said she was going upstairs, and that we have to be good or else we wouldn’t get any supper,” Jamie piped up.

“How long you been down here, kid?” Morgan asked.

Jamie shrugged, “Couple hours.”

“Did she hurt any of you?” The kids all shook their heads no.

Hotch’s voice crackled over the radio, “We have her in custody, any sign of the kids?”

“Yep, we found them in the cellar. All are alive, but we may need a medic on standby at the station for some of them.”

“Are they hurt?”

“No, just malnourished. Definitely dehydrated.”

Morgan and I led the kids out to the surface, the setting sun creating a glare off of the tin cellar doors. We were greeted by Gideon and police rounding the corner to the backyard. The kids ran out the gate towards the police cars, eager to be home soon.

(Reader POV)

“Okay, I’ll let them know.” JJ hung up and turned back to you, a relieved smile gracing her face. You stood up, desperate to hear the news she had.

“They found the kids, Jamie’s safe.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from lunging at the woman you barely knew, wrapping her in a bear hug as delighted laughs left your lungs. You felt tears of pure relief drip down your cheeks as she squeezed you back, also letting out a deep sigh.

You waited impatiently in the bullpen, anxious to see Jamie unharmed and to give the team your gratitude. When they finally arrived, you saw your son walking hand-in-hand with Spencer and the older agent you believed was named Gideon. Spencer pointed over to you with his free hand and smiled, causing Jamie to drop their hands and sprint into your arms crying “Mommy! Mommy!” You immediately lifted him up and covered his face with kisses. The two of you held onto one another so tight, you were surprised either of you could breathe. Spencer came over to you, smiling with eyes you couldn’t quite recognize.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

“No need, Y/N. I’m glad I could help. I just wish I could have met Jamie here on better terms!”

You adjusted your hold on Jaime to free one hand, stretching it out for Spencer to take it in his own. You squeezed it gently, smiling into those hazel eyes that had somehow never looked warmer before, despite the deep shadows under them.

“Thank you.”

His pursed lips twitched slightly and you noticed the tears brimming his sunken eyes. The poor boy needed sleep and a lot of it soon. He squeezed your hand back, sending shockwaves up your arms straight to your heart, which hadn’t felt this light since you were seventeen years old.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @rottenearly @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper

381 notes · View notes

hueningshaped · 3 years

Text

☆ crown | xu minghao and jeon wonwoo

▰ genre: college au! / NO READER INSERT = ORIGINAL CHARACTER / drama, coming of age, romantic, angst ... so original characters and seventeen *gasp* you guessed it — a svt fanfic

▰ word count: about 2.7k

▰ a/n: interest check of a full fledged story i’ve planned but am refraining to put effort in due to possible, complete lack of reads or audience (nobody’s fault but mine). i’d love to hear your feedback! this is chapter one; please let me know if i should continue or just leave it at this LOL

▰ synopsis: jo woolim can’t juggle to save her life, and yet she is somehow managing to stay with her boyfriend: jeon wonwoo, who is possibly cheating on her (again), her strained friendships, fitting into her new school, estranged family, learning to wholly love and forgive herself - in a time unprecedented and searching for the boy of her dreams, xu minghao, the prodigal foreign exchange student. she’s looking for real love, where it’s lacking, where it’s needed, and where it’s always been. by the way, it is not easy!

▰ additional: i listened to epilogue by justin hurtwitz as well as mia and sebastian’s theme (which is somewhat a reprise of it despite it being previous to epilogue, of course) as i wrote it so here u go!

Jo Woolim's feet hurt for multiple reasons, but getting stood up, time and time again, to now, at the age of twenty three is the main contribution to the pain.

The stairs are a pretty humiliating choice of seating, especially to conduct her double digit calls to the person who stood her up, which is her harmless best friend, Sookyung. So, no hard feelings, right? (Right?)

She shouldn't even be that embarrassed because it's not Wonwoo — the Jeon Wonwoo, her very own boyfriend — that stood her up, but she supposes she can be since he'd refused to go and even teased her about wanting to go.

The staircase is fine marble, allowing each footstep to click and clack with each heel that ascends because the party's just beginning. With this venue mimicking a palace, Woolim feels way out of place. Some girls have poofy dresses and others possess thinner material, accentuating the hills of each girl's curves and edges walking in. The boys are all the same, offering the bare minimum. Why does everyone get to be beautiful except her?

Shaking the last thought off, Woolim exerts so much effort to make it look like being alone and ugly doesn't bother her. But, she has to bite the bullet and make a move.

So, her legs spring up, taking her up to the rest of the party. She ignores the heat accumulating from the small of her back to just about every part of her body as she walks in, trying to take everything in and not look like such a loser. Jesus, is everyone looking at her? Are they talking about her?

There were definitely perks to this new university and one of them is the commencement of her class, which arrives in the form of a ceremony with a festivity that follows immediately after. Of course, as a transfer, she gets the initiation that throws a theme, so she has to wear the clown paint and clothes that they inform you to wear to match.

All she is missing is a crown and she's a royal fool.

The Masquerade Ball, as the provost and student affairs staff, had been rumored since before she'd even transferred to the school, which added up to just two months ago. Three months before, she had received that acceptance letter.

She should've known.

Woolim stifles a cough, hoping that the callousing - painful callousing - in her soles due to her starchy dress shoes would be able to mask the humiliation that was beginning to sting behind her eyes.

Of course, she had no identity, but everyone still looks over at her in pity.

The room offered dim lighting, romantic hues of pinks, and citrusy chardonnay beading the adjacent walls. Woolim thirsts for an exit.

The song changes to something unattainable audibly but she must not even be able to hear herself, and before she knows, someone to the side of Woolim bumps into her, back slamming against her body and into the wall.

A frantic, male voice follows, yelping out apologies, as he reaches down to pull her up.

"Jesus, I'm so sorry. Told him to not try and shake what his mama gave him and here we are, here you are, we're both so sorry..." Woolim's vision focuses as she returns to eye level and manages a minor grin at the boy as much of his appearance stands out wonderfully.

With heavily dyed platinum hair, a turquoise suit with rhinestones in various floral designs across the front and wrists, tiger eyes, and led lights curling around the outline of his mask, this boy looked like a lot of fun. A head of chestnut locks remain bowed by his shoulder.

The blond grabs her palm desperately, and he's making wailing sounds.

"I apologize for not only Seokmin but for his upbringing. May Satan guide him in return." He prayed aloud, apology too comical to be real but nonetheless real.

Woolim finally speaks up when the music quiets down just a touch and she doesn't have to stammer to be heard.

"No, you're fine! I can't really see with this mask." She reveals, voice too out there for its own good, but at this, the boy's eyes expand in shock and the bowed head lifts up with intrigue.

"Are you sure? It was pretty rude of us, wasn't it, Seokmin?" He nudges his friend, who's dressed in a simpler, humbler suit, who nods sullenly.

"I'm really, really embarrassed... besides, I think she gets it, Soonyoung."

"Whatever, Oprah singer."

"It's opera!"

The air around them hardens as they begin to bicker. Seokmin places his hands on his hips to deliver his rebuttals but the last thing that Woolim wants is to make two friends fight, let alone cause trouble while she has no date.

"I really am alright! No harm done. I'm just...a little relieved actually that someone's speaking to me," she admits wincingly. There's no need to be as honest as possible, but that doesn't stop her from adding, "I didn't come to the ball with anyone."

The two boys frown and coo, letting out maple syrupy aw's, surprisingly sympathizing with her.

"If it makes you feel any better, our dates were too busy to come, so he and I came together. We also do have another buddy with us, officially making it a threesome!" Soonyoung chats loudly and Seokmin elbows him in the chest at the last comment.

"That's not what a threesome is, Soon."

"Whatever," he waves his hand dismissively. Woolim notices that despite the gravity between the two friends, they remain focused on her. It feels nice. "We did lose him a little while ago though. Maybe he's around here somewhere."

Woolim then levels with them to form a line so she could follow their eye as they peer around the venue, which seems futile since their view is obscured by the angle, decorations, and crowds. The opaque curtains of the many entrances within the main venue gave the illusion that this place was endless. It feels like a trance that went on forever. Reality washes over Woolim and she can feel the weight of being the person one meets and should leave.

"Uh...I'm sorry for getting in your guys' way initially," she announces with a tone that makes her seem unsure of the words on her tongue. Seokmin rolls his head over at her, eyebrows drawing inwardly and puppy dog eyes. She's about to coolly and casually make her leave to no longer bother the boys, but Soonyoung has a different idea.

"Nonsense! It was our fault to begin with, and to repay your gracious hand," Soonyoung then motions to Woolim's bare hand as the other apparels one silky dress glove. "We're trying to at least become an even foursome with you and our friend! God knows where the hell the great Minghao is though!"

"Right behind you." A chilling, oolonged voice speaks up suddenly and startled enough, Woolim's disposition remains unaffected despite her heart catching up to leap in her chest with her delayed reaction.

"Minghao, you wanted to give me a heart attack, didn't you?" Seokmin sighs dramatically, voice hitching to imitate crying. Upon hearing the rich laugh, Woolim tips her head slowly and changes her footing to turn round.

The supposed Minghao peers down at Woolim, unreadable expression through the simple glow of his ivory mask. His raven black hair, lengthy and healthy, adorns his crown like he deserves a throne to come with the apparel.

"We found a person and we found you!" Soonyoung hesitantly wraps his hand around Woolim's wrist, loosely keeping his fingers around to lift and wave.

Minghao snickers delicately.

"I found you actually," he corrects, eyeing his friends, even meeting Woolim's to speak. "And I'm sure you didn't meet because of an accident, right?"

"That was on my part," Woolim speaks up but bites on her bottom lip once his piercing gaze trains upon her. "Sorry..."

"You’ve done no wrong, though?" Minghao's lips stretches into a wonderful smile.

" — yeah, it was Seokmin." Soonyoung mutters, earning himself a tiny shove.

"Minghao, you didn't come here with anyone for a date, right?" Seokmin poses. Woolim notices from his accent that Korean is not his first language but has such a grip with his words, it almost passes one's mind initially.

"Not this time," he answers nebulously. Woolim has to hold back a scowl. "If you’d like, I would love to have you... er, and what's your name?"

She can feel Soonyoung's and Seokmin's excited watch upon her but since this is the first night that she's seen boys be so decent, she figures she might, as well, make their night. They certainly have made hers, after all, excluding this Minghao at the moment.

"I'm Woolim. W-Woolim," she says twice, one too many. Minghao's expression loosens with pleasant awe.

"No surname?" He quizzes, voice too serious for it to be a joke. Woolim feels absolutely no urge to joke around, anxiety fizzing in the very marrow of her bones, so she just shakes her head and hopes he wouldn't see her cocked eyebrow.

"Well," he clears his throat. "I'm Xu Minghao. Seo Myungho. I've got 4 names."

"I've got three," Soonyoung pipes up and everyone groans.

"Soonyoung, don't say it in front of her. That's so gross." Seokmin leans over to shake his head but eye Woolim, in the way that friends who’ve known each other for a long time do. It's a nice feeling.

The music changes, taking a turn from some pop electronica to some heavy pulse from a contemporary rhythm and blues type, and the bass rocks hard enough to shake her ribs.

Minghao locks eyes with her and beams charmingly. He even takes her surprise further by reaching a hand out, fingers long and elegant.

"Would you care to dance with me? Or do you want to take this chance to leave like you were looking for earlier?"

Woolim feels like she merely imagined him asking the last question, which leads her to consider bolting for the doors last minute. Surely, Wonwoo would be home and maybe tonight, he'd be in the mood to love her and like her.

Oh, what she'd do to be loved and liked at the same time.

"Do what you would like," his tone lightens into something sweeter like rosehip. "I don't think you should put your lovely ensemble to waste."

Woolim swallows hard at that and just when she is about to acknowledge the two excited chitters from the other two boys, Minghao takes her hand into his. A cool grip overtakes a clammy warmth. Wordlessly, they somehow sail across the linoleum floor.

All the half hidden faces that had been judging her now evaporate with the blue and green lighting, hues and keys ascending into reds and minors.

Minghao is the type to maintain eye contact and Woolim hates it.

In the back of her mind, bits and pieces of her mind offer memories of what she could see of herself in the reflections. Since Sookyung shared the same favorite color that she did, Woolim went with another: sleet blue. Thin straps hang off her thick shoulders that had a loose, lace cover across her biceps and chest. The hems are riddled with sparkles and flowers. The rest of the silk sticks to each and every edge of her body before drifting off past her chronically swollen ankles with the extra layers adding volume. Her skin appears mottled but overall amber. Her mask is ridden in silvery lace and false white gems and roses. Woolim never knew she could look lovely.

"Do you mind if I hold you close?" He leads, raising their joined hands to sway.

Woolim opens her mouth only to nod. Despite the darkness of the brown and the dim lighting, she sees that his eyes are dotted with flames of the bits of lighting around the venue. The night of his pupils burn right through her and yet she only feels sparks from him, especially once his other hand comes to gently graze her waist.

"Are you okay with this?" He sways them a little more to the right with each movement. Woolim doesn't fancy being this quiet and immobile so she moves his hand into her. His hold is gentle and electrifying as if eternities have passed since she's last been embraced as sweetly as this.

"How long have you gone to this school?" Minghao leans in to better emphasize his question.

"I just transferred, actually," she says as casually as possible since the strokes they make when they sway are becoming too grand for her to catch up.

He's incredibly quick on his feet, so much so that her eyes must drop to follow their direction. Many bodies and pairs round about the two, but they all blend in with the backdrop of the room.

"Follow my counts. One, two, three ─" He drifts into quadrants, slow enough for her to catch up but she continues to knock into his chest. "─ and four. Let's go again. You're alright, I promise. Seokmin used to firmly believe his body was not built at all for anything besides existing."

Woolim glances to the side to see Seokmin rocking his hips next to Soonyoung side to side within frequent increments. They also somehow manage to can-can despite the slow synth and phrases of the song.

"Are you always this quiet?" Minghao breathes and this question catches her off guard. Perhaps taking her breath away had been his intention and he uses this to intertwine their fingers like they're meant to be.

"I’d tell you a lie but since you don't know me, I'm going to tell you the truth; I think I like having you try and get me to talk." Woolim purses her lips tightly as soon as she finds herself smirking.

Minghao steps back, which she nearly leaps to follow, but with the gentlest pivot of his wrist, Woolim twirls like one of the toys she'd wanted all her childhood. Her chest rides past the clouds and her heart pursues, shuttling upwards.

"My goodness, you're a natural!" He comments when he swings her to one side and right back into his embrace. She's smiling.

The song is still playing, and if at all possible, it's hanging above her head precariously and it's just the two of them on the planet.

"Are you sure you don't want me to know you?" He asks once more, and this time, she sheds a few feathers of her insecurities.

The song is still as powerful enough to beat as her heart.

"You ask a lot of questions, Minghao." She manages to grin and their steps narrow to continue to tread the same space.

He peers down at her and the flames are still lit.

"I can't help it. Honestly, honestly. I want to know you truly, honestly."

His loving smile buckles under the bite into his lip. She must be lying when she sees his eyes drop to her mouth. This must be a dream.

"I'm-I'm an open book," she murmurs, captivated by his own lips, and gasps quietly when the hand on her waist is suddenly cupping her jaw. No, she is not, the more authoritative Woolim reprimands silently. But it matters not - she's not loud either.

The song is still playing. It could play for eternities.

He rubs her cheek so tenderly and it has her eyes all a twinkle without realizing.

Wonwoo is no longer a thought. Sookyung no longer crosses her mind.

It only takes a few more countless seconds of wordless confirmation before Minghao dives in to take her lips with his and something behind her rib cage blossoms. He speaks against her mouth, but she doesn't care. She doesn't care.

He continues devouring her lips for the taking and she's left speechless, breaths searching for something to hold onto in between their own mouths.

The daily lows of her life are a fleeting death as she now soars high in a fairy tale-like limelight that only pertains to the two of them. All she's missing is a crown.

Where is her crown? Her mind's whispers fade with every proceeding second. And for once, Woolim feels so good that nothing matters.

#so should i keep going....? *head in hands*#seventeen fluff #seventeen fanfic #svt fanfic #seventeen hoshi #seventeen dk #seventeen the8 #seventeen angst #seventeen college au

26 notes · View notes

derivativealigner · 3 years

Text

Well, I’m done rewatching season 2 of south park and I’ve taken plenty of notes and screenshots to document all the facts and tidbits I thought were interesting or just funny. Under the cut is a collection of notes where I progressively start caring more and more about fake children

Kenny’s house is full of empty bottles, his family eats frozen waffles for dinner, and his dad is drinking at the dinner table

Kenny’s and Kyle’s dads have some history. They were best friends as teenagers

Kenny’s dad is kind of anti-Semitic, he says Kyle’s dad was successful because he’s Jewish

Cartman kind of expresses agreement with Stuart’s anti-Semitism, which I think is the first time Cartman’s been clearly anti-Semitic

Kenny’s house has rats, but his room has lights that shut off when you clap twice

WOW KYLE wtf he says “Kenny's not really my friend, Ma. I don't give a rat's ass about him.” FUCKING RUDE

Kyle and Kenny have a fun little sleepover where they play “ookie mouth”, a game where they take turn spitting in each other’s mouths. This episode (S02E10 Chickenpox) is great for fans of K2 despite how absolutely disgusting ookie mouth is

The McCormick house was something Stuart and Gerald built as teenagers. A fort in Stuart’s mom’s backyard

Gerald went to community college

Gerald and Stuart have a fun fist fight by a pond

Kyle makes a haiku: Fatass Cartman was / not on the school bus today. / What a big, fat turd.

Kenny makes a haiku: When you rub your dick, / you might find a discharge that / winds up on the floor.

Kyle makes another: Ass full of pork fat / jiggles like a Jello mold. / Mouth is flapping, too.

And another by Kyle: I bet you don't win. / They don't let big fat asses / perform on TV.

Cartman responds: Shut your God-damned mouth / or else I'm... gonna... kick you / square in the balls... asshole

I spy with my desperate eye the beginnings of Craig’s gang, featuring Kenny with wonky eyes

Bebe thinks Kyle has a hot ass and she’s not shy about saying it

Bebe writes a note to Kyle, and Stan tries to pass it on but Mr. Garrison thinks it’s Stan’s note for Kyle and makes him read it out loud. So he reads: “Dear Kyle. You have got such a great ass. I could sleep for days on those perked cheeks, let me tell you. I'd like to live with you and wear your ass as a hat for all eternity.” (If that happened to me I’d be embarrassed forever)

POV: You’re Stan and you just said you love Kyle’s juicy ass in front of the whole 3rd grade class

The first time Stan’s mom and dad get a divorce is in S02E12, way sooner than I remembered

Bebe kisses Kyle when they’re playing truth or dare in their clubhouse, probably Kyle’s first kiss. Kyle thinks it’s disgusting (despite having played ookie mouth with Kenny which is arguably more disgusting)

Bebe breaks up with Kyle and goes off with Clyde, who says “Bitchin’ 😎”. Later Clyde is with Bebe, Stan, and Wendy at the club house

Cartman and Kyle have a fist fight once again. Kyle hated Cartman way more than Stan did very early on, kind of all along really, they truly were destined to be arch enemies

Kenny has food stamps

Oh, and Cartman’s made poor jokes about Kenny and twice (I think) Kenny has punched him in retaliation in the past 2 seasons. Kenny’s family is probably a bad and violent example for him

By the way, if you’ve ever wondered what Kenny says in the theme song but never looked it up, in seasons 1-2 he sings “I like girls with big fat titties, I like girls with deep vaginas” but in the remastered versions of seasons 1-2 (which is the version I’m watching) they changed it to the season 3-5 lyrics: “I have got a ten-inch penis, use you mouth if you wanna clean it”.

When an evil twin version of Cartman says nice things, Stan, Kyle, and Kenny stare at him in horror. Stan says, “Dude, this is creepy.”

Also, the boys say dude a lot. At least Stan, Kyle, and Kenny do, Cartman not as much

Kenny’s mom hits him when he’s hogging the blanket from his brother. Kenny makes a sad face and it made me feel bad :(

When evil twin Cartman comes to give the McCormicks some supplies, Kenny’s dad asks if that was his “fat, racist, foul-mouthed friend” so Cartman clearly has a reputation

When Stan gets scared of his evil fish, he wakes Shelly up and she slaps him. Their mom sees it and says nothing

But on the other hand his mom buries a body that Stan’s fish killed because she thinks he killed it so I guess she’s not entirely a bad mom

Kenny was supposed to buy a pumpkin for Halloween but he could only afford a squash and his friends are really mean about it. The more I watch the more I feel bad for Kenny (and Stan)

Cartman kind of has a shitty friendship with Kenny. He says “I hate you Kenny” because of the squash

Kyle is really annoyed by Cartman saying “hella” all the time, nobody else is as annoyed

Evil Cartman sings a cute little song while wielding a knife: You guys / are my best friends, / through thick and thin, / we've always been together! / We're four of a kind, / having fun all day, / palling around and laughing away. / Just best friends, / best friends are we!

Stan still has his dog, Sparky, in season 2

After Stan’s fish kills Kenny, Kenny’s mom comes over to ask about her son and she’s drunk and upset. Honestly seeing Kenny die all the time makes me kind of sad

Stan says Kenny’s squash isn’t a bad little squash. Very heartwarming. The squash gets first prize at the pumpkin carving contest :)

Cartman’s grandma and extended family live in Nebraska

When the boys go to Cartman’s family to have Christmas dinner, Kenny’s dad tells him to take any leftovers and bring them back home (he does it very gently and Kenny just says “okay” and why do I care that this fake child dies all the time and barely has food at home, like why the fuck do I care so much???)

Cartman’s mom is wearing glasses when she drives. She doesn’t do it in the later seasons but maybe she has contacts

Cartman and his mom sing a road trip song for 4 hours. Kyle says “please stop” but when they ignore him, he kicks Cartman’s seat and makes Cartman hit his head

Stan has a complicated relationship with his family, he says they’re dead to him because they didn’t want him to go on a road trip to Nebraska so Stan went without telling them

Kenny doesn’t eat at the dinner table with Cartman’s family, he just shoves the food in a bag :( I feel so bad for him

Stan, Kyle, and Kenny all hit Cartman after they wake in the night to make sure they’re not dreaming

Under his coat, Cartman wears a pink tank top that says BEEFCAKE. He wore it in S1E02 Weight Gain 2000

Charles Manson invites Kenny to go to a more secluded location and Kenny just says okay and goes, but honestly he should know better since he’s aware that he keeps dying

Cartman bonks his cousin Elvin on the head and gives him brain damage. Elvin gets better though

THE NEXT EPISODE IS GNOMES!!! TWEEEEEK!!!!

Token gets named when he’s put in a group with Wendy, Bebe, Clyde, and Pip. Craig’s gang is getting closer to becoming a thing!!

IT’S OUR FUCKING BOY TWEEK TWEAK BITCH YEEEEAAAH

Tweek says he’s awake at 3:30am because he can’t sleep, ever

Jesus, Tweek’s dad kind of sucks immediately. He says he might have to sell Tweek to slavery if his coffee shop goes out of business

Cartman says Kenny’s family is happy being poor and on welfare, “right, Kenny?” and Kenny says “fuck you” which is completely justified

When the underpants gnomes don’t appear, Tweek is worried he’s going insane and pulls on his hair

His parents say Tweek is jittery and anxious just because he has ADD (but the kind of severe jitteriness and anxiety Tweek has isn’t a symptom of primarily inattentive ADHD, even though people with ADHD do experience restlessness and can even have some tics and are more likely to have anxiety as a comorbid disorder than a neurotypical person is, but I mean come on, we all know Tweek’s slurping way too much coffee so even if he has ADHD beneath all that, his parents should stop giving him coffee and they definitely should not start lacing it with meth. Basically what I’m saying is that Tweek’s parents are full of shit)

Actually Tweek’s mom is kind of okay. She tells Tweek’s dad that he’s being shitty for using kids to advance his agenda. But… the agenda is against big corporations and I hate to say it but Tweek’s dad kind of has a point

Ew, the boys are giving a pro big corporations speech. That aged really poorly considering how shitty billionaires are

Aww, look at Kenny! He got scared of a crocodile that Steve Irwin is about to bother by jamming his thumb up its butthole

The boys are really excited about Steve Irwin jamming his thumb up a crocodile’s butthole

Oh my God, Kyle calls Cartman a fatass penis

Kenny is a mediator between Stan and Kyle. They ask him which one found this ice man in a cave first, but Kenny just deflects and agrees with Kyle’s name suggestion (Steve) for the ice man

I kind of like Dr. Mephesto. I’m glad he came back for Fractured But Whole

Stan and Kyle are having a terrible fight about who found the ice man. Kyle says they’re not best friends anymore and that Cartman is his new best friend and Cartman says “Sweet!”, then Stan claims Cartman as his new best friend and Cartman says “Killer!”

This prehistoric ice man episode is actually funny, I love it

Stan and Kyle are having a fight to the death

They reconcile and become best friends again. They both agree that Cartman’s a sucky best friend

Well, that was the last episode of the season. This was fun. South Park is actually a fun show

Kenny deaths:

S02E10 Kenny is in the hospital because of chicken pox. He laughs at Cartman’s joke so hard that his heart flatlines like beeeeeeeeeeeeeep

S02E11 Kenny’s head explodes after Stan and Kyle make him watch planetarium lights at a high intensity

S02E12 Kenny gets trampled in a mosh pit

S02E13 A cow impales Kenny’s head with its horn

S02E14 Ozzy Osbourne bites Kenny’s head off

S02E15 Kenny is killed by Stan’s evil fish, he gets spun in the fish tank until the water’s red

S02E16 The police shoot Kenny who came outside with a white flag during a hostage situation, then the police hit his dead body with a baton and handcuff him

S02E17 Kenny gets crushed by the underpants gnomes’ mine cart. The gnomes are horrified but Stan, Kyle, Cartman, and Tweek are kinda like whatever

S02E18 Kenny gets squished underneath a conveyer belt

Onto the next season I go. I’ll watch the movie too since it was released around halfway through season 3

#south park #sp rewatch #this was supposed to be a quick little thing but i'm taking it too seriously #i feel like i'm screaming into a void

19 notes · View notes

rina-writes · 4 years

Text

Survivalist Shower

Summary: [Throwback to the Surviving in the Australian Wilderness videos when Ethan was a MOOD.] Ethan is more than relieved to come home and you’re happy to welcome him as long as he showers first.

Warnings: Smut Lite ♦ Mostly Fluffy

Ethan walked into the Airbnb with the saddest expression on his face. You heard him long before he walked in through the door. He and Grayson were arguing from the car. As usual. They arrived about 8 hours earlier than the planned time. To be honest, you had expected them 12 hours earlier than the predetermined time, and you thought you were being generous. You were glad that you had food ready for them to eat because the look on Ethan’s face said he needed it.

“Babe…” He yelled, weakly.

You removed your apron and ran over to him. You gasped. He looked terrible. He was covered in mud, his skin was splotchy from sun burn, you could see mosquito bites (or was it a rash?!?) on various parts of his body and he had plastic bottles taped to his feet. Without thinking about it, you gave him a big hug. He hugged you tightly, taking in your scent with a deep breath. Grayson theatrically moved past you two, using his weight to push you both out of the way, in an effort to remind you that you were blocking the entrance. The crew walked around you two with ease, trying not to interrupt your precious moment.

“How can you hug him right now, Y/N?” Grayson asked, teasingly. “I bet he stinks.”

You laughed. “Clothes can be washed, but emotional wounds from neglect last forever.”

Ethan nodded, making an approval noise, but refused to let go of you. He like a child holding on to you like his security blanket. You would be lying if you said that you didn’t enjoy it. This soft, adorable version of Ethan was one of your favorites. There was something heartwarming about seeing a pretty big dude cuddling into you for comfort.

“Come on, babe.” You said, breaking the hug only to see the pout forming on his face. You laughed and patted his head. “I’m still right here.”

You glanced at Nick Fry who had walked in with the crew. He was the survivalist they had met in Australia who had helped them on their adventure. If anyone would know what’s up, it would be Nick. You couldn’t tell if they were blowing it out of proportion if it was really as bad as Ethan’s face said it was. There was also part of you that knew Nick, the person who had been doing this since he was a child, may be a bit biased.

“I’m guessing they had a rough time?” You asked, with a sympathetic smile.

“The Australia Wilderness is hard enough.” Nick explained, his Aussie accent thick. “Being vegan only made it 10 times worse for them. I genuinely felt bad for the guys.”

You looked at Ethan who was just standing by the doorway zoned out. His face looked so innocent: his eyes wide, his hair sticking to his forehead with a mix of mud and sweat, his lips in a seemingly permanent frown. From the shoulders down, it was easy to remember that he was a grown man. He was tanner than usual thanks to the Australian sun and his muscles were rippling. His abs were more defined, probably because he hadn’t eaten in awhile.

“I think Ethan took it a bit harder.” Nick said, following your eyes. “Kyle told me you fixed up a nice spread for them though.” Nick smiled, “I’m sure that would pick them up.”

Ethan’s face lit up as he looked at you. You swear you could see the green in his hazel eyes clearly as they twinkled. Right on cue, Grayson ran from the kitchen with an excited expression.

“DUDE!!” Grayson yelled. “Y/N THREW IT DOWN. WE GOT VEGAN BURGERS, VEGAN PIZZA, VEGAN FRIES, VEGAN WATER...”

“Vegan water is definitely not a think…” You couldn’t contain your laughter as you actually tried to correct him. It didn’t matter anyway, as Grayson continued to yell out the “menu.” You really did throw it down, knowing they would need the pick me up.

“Alright, alright.” You clapped your hands together. This was how you got the boys’ attention. It was tip you learned from their mom and it never failed you. It even worked on Nick and the crew who had their full attention on you.

“Showers first. All of you...no messing up my nice Airbnb dining table.” You commanded.

There was some grumbling, but everyone went to their respective bathrooms. Nick offered the crew to come to his place for showers since it wasn’t too far. As everyone dispersed, you were surprised to see that Ethan was still by your side. He snaked his arms around your waist and in one quick motion carried you to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” You asked, between laughs.

“We’re showering.” He explained as if it was completely obvious what was going on.

“Why am I showering? I didn’t go in the wilderness.” You pretended to protest. In reality, you loved it when he swooped you in his arms. He knew this; which is why he always did it when he had the chance.

He put you down in his bathroom and happily stripped off his clothes. It always impressed you how quickly he got naked. You smiled softly, seeing his tush still a bit paler than the rest of his body, but not by much.

You started to remove your clothes as well while he got the water temperature ready. As he tested the water with his hand, he answered your question.

“You hugged me, so you’re dirty too.” He grinned. “If I’m being honest, I kind of just want some cuddles. I didn’t like being out there in the wilderness. I wish I could always be with you.”

“Oh E…” You said, finally ready for your shower. “You’re gonna make me cry.”

Since you were cooking all day, you weren’t wearing anything too fancy. You removed your oversized t-shirt and the pajama shorts you wore underneath followed. You were wearing your comfiest bra and the soft underwear that made your butt look nice without giving you a wedgie.

Ethan was taking it all in. His mouth was agape as he started breathing heavier. You could hear him panting over the water. His breath hitched as you removed his undergarments.

“I swear…” Ethan looked you up and down. “...I think you look hotter now.”

“You’re just dehydrated.” You teased, stepping in to the tub.

“Nu uh.” Ethan said, following behind you. “I had the water you sent me and those chocolate covered dates. You take such good care of me. And now you’re standing here looking so good.”

When he said, ‘so good,’ he pressed you gently into the wall of the shower. You could feel the cool tiles on the front of your body and you turned your head to look at him. He groaned, pressing his thumb into your lips.

“Don’t look at me like that, baby.” His voice came out like a moan. “It drives me even more wild.”

His voice was deep and raspy with desire.

“A-Are we going to shower?” You asked, your body trembling with anticipation. You hadn’t seen Ethan like this in a long time. You had a pretty healthy sex life. Granted, it had been awhile. You had been in Australia for about 10 days now, and as a courtesy to everyone else, you decided not to sleep together on vacation. You also didn’t mess around much when you were at his parents’ place in Jersey, so all together it was over two weeks since you were intimate. It probably didn’t help that he was still getting off his high of being in civilization again.

Using his thumb and index finger, he held the top of your neck firmly and pulled you in for a kiss. It was a hungry, greedy kiss. It didn’t take long for his tongue to enter your mouth and his hands to press you against his chest. He tasted salty and smelled like trees, but it still felt really good. It was Ethan after all. Your hands had memorized every dip and curve on his body, and they were currently rubbing up and down his back. You just wished that you could enjoy him squeaky clean. The mud was really putting a damper on the mood.

You leaned back and he leaned with you, suspecting nothing. His hands squeezed and caressed every portion of your body. You reached your hand back and with a quick motion, turned the water all the way to the cold. You shivered, but Ethan broke this kiss to yell loudly.

“JESUS, BABE” Ethan yelled. “F-” He stopped himself, never wanting to swear at you. He backed away pressing his back to the opposite wall. He shook his head, his chest heaving.

“Sorry,” You said, obviously not apologetic, turning the water back to its warm temperature. You tried to hide your smile. “I just think I deserve a clean boyfriend.”

Ethan groaned. “You could have just asked. Like a normal person.”

“But this was soooo much more effective.” You teased. “And fun.”

“Good god, woman.” He pulled you close to him. “Now, you’re all cold. And your nips are freaking stabbing me, goodness.”

“Sorry,” You stuck out your tongue. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You grabbed a wash cloth and some soap and lathered it up. Starting from his neck, you massaged the soap into his skin. He put his hands behind his head, watching you lazily. He occasionally let out a grunt of approval when your fingers touched his skin past the wash cloth. As your hands got more and more south, his breathing became jagged. You teased him a bit, going back up to wash his armpits and his arms, dropping down to his legs and his feet, and even turning him on his stomach to get the backside.

“Baby, please.” Ethan moaned out.

“What are you getting so worked up for?” You teased staring up at him, squinting past the water. You were squatting down comfortably, his thighs at your level. “It’s just a sponge bath.”

Before he could respond, you started to wash his most sensitive area.

He hissed as you washed him gently and his hips bucked toward your hands. His heart swelled with the amount of care you put in to washing him. He was still aroused, but it just made him want to carry you to the bed make love to you instead of the animalistic pounding he desired a few moments earlier. He smoothed your hair before gently nudging you to stand up. You frowned a bit. Usually at this point you would blow him and Ethan wasn’t one to refuse it

“Let me wash off and then I’ll return the favor.” His voice was a whisper. You blushed and nodded softly. You loved this version of Ethan. This was the Ethan that caressed you and made love to you for multiple hours while cooing words filled with love. Of course, you liked freaky Ethan as well, who would push you against the wall and drill into you until you felt him in your guts. It was the versatility that made your love life, in the bedroom and outside of it, so special.

He washed off the soap and rinsed his hair. You made a mental note to shampoo his hair when he was done. You grimaced as you saw all the sludge covering the tub. You were excited to see their next video, just to understand what happened. He grabbed some face soap and washed his face. He then made his way over to you.

He kissed you, sensually pressing his lips to yours as he rubbed your sides. You melted in his arms as you kissed back with more intensity, letting out a little groan. You moved to wrap your legs around his waist and he chuckled, breaking the kiss.

“Now who’s the eager.” He put on his best impression of you. “A-Are we going to shower?”

“Not fair that you work me up like this...” You muttered with a pout.

Ethan gestured to his hard on. “Welcome to my world.”

He took the wash cloth from your hands and raised your arms up. His eyes scanned your body, but not in the same lustful way he did before. This time he was looking at you like a work of art.

“I can’t believe you’re mine, baby girl.” Ethan cooed in your ear as he start to wash you. “So beautiful, so kind, too good for me…”

He cleaned every crevice of your body. It was almost embarrassing. Every curve and crack was cleaned, with special attention to your sensitive areas. You were a moaning mess and he kept edging you on.

“It’s weird…” He teased, his voice still husky as he touched your core. “I thought I cleaned this spot before.”

“You know what you’re doing…” You managed to moan out.

“What am I doing?” Ethan asked, working his hand in your core. His fingers inserting inside of you, twisting and curling in the way he knew you liked.

“Pleasuring me…” You moaned.

“Say my name,” He whispered in your ear. “Say the name of the man pleasuring you.”

“Ethan!” You practically yelled. Half to adhere his request and half to scold him. “I still have to wash your hair.” Your voice softened, still embarrassed at how loud you said his name.

“Gosh…” Ethan groaned, removing his fingers. “You really know how to kill a mood, babe.”

You laughed weakly, your body aching for Ethan to finish what he started. You tried to shake off the feelings and poured some shampoo into your hand. You reached up to get to his head and he tip toed, a silly grin on his face.

“Ethan...stop..” You groaned as you tip toed as well to reach him. The shampoo was dripping off your hands.

“What?” He feigned innocence. “What am I doing?” As he backed away making you stumble into him. He supported your weight easily.

“Are you not hungry?” You asked, getting annoyed. “Do you want to starve? Or do you want to eat the dinner I prepared?”

He reached between your legs, his finger lightly brushing against your clit, and smirked. “I want the dinner I prepared.”

You blushed and changed the subject back to the important matter. “Oh my god, can you bend down? How am I supposed to wash your hair?”

“I got one better.” He picked you up, letting your wrap your legs around his waist, giving you access to his hair. He rested his face on your chest, blowing bubbles, while you shampooed his hair. You made a mohawk with it before washing it off. You enjoyed these moments too. Just being silly and having fun was just so...you and Ethan. He put you back down and rinsed your hair as well.

A bang on the door made you both jump with surprise. You bit your lip as you looked at Ethan, both of you trying not to laugh.

“If you two think I am going to wait for you to finish screwing around, you’re so wrong.” Grayson said, through the door, but of course, since it was Grayson, it was like yelling.

“It’s fine!” You yelled back. “We’rec coming.”

“Eww too much details.” Grayson teased.

It took you a second, but Ethan started laughing immediately.

“Oh my god I hate you both.” You groaned.

“Come on, babe.” Ethan turned off the water and kissed your neck. “Let’s go eat your delicious food and then finish where we left off. I can’t let my dessert go to waste.”

He ran his fingers on your left inner thigh, making sure to lock eyes with you as he did.

“Okay…” You said, softly.

“Okay?” Ethan grinned, getting out the shower and handing you a towel. “No retort? Ooh, you’re going to be putty in my hands, tonight, baby. I see it in your eyes.”

“Shut up…” You looked away, drying off. “I was worried about you. You’re not the only one who had a lonely night.”

“I’m sorry, baby.” He kissed the top of your head. “I’ll make it up to you.”

You smiled. “I know...the dinner was a preemptive thank you.”

#ethan dolan #ethan dolan blurb #ethan dolan imagine #ethan dolan scenario #ethan dolan smut #dolan twins scenario #dolan twins #dolan twins blurb #dolan twins imagine #dolan twins smut #r-writes-fic

190 notes · View notes

spaceskam · 4 years

Text

this time i’ll do things the way you wanted

for @alexmanesappreciation day 2: canon divergence :) (warning: descriptions of injuries, mentions of violence, dissociation, memory loss, etc)

ao3

Michael paused as he walked into the airstream.

He'd expected to come home to no one. Maria was angry at him and Alex was missing. Well, allegedly missing. He'd spent the last four days frantically trying to search for him before caving and going to the group, laying out a whole plan to go find him in the early morning, only to see that Alex had found his way home all by himself. Michael's heart was in his throat.

On the tiny bed, Alex had made himself comfortable. He was curled up and still and hurt. From the tiny bit of moonlight alone, Michael could see the bruises on his pretty face. He took slow steps, not wanting to startle him despite how badly he wanted to just tackle him in a hug. He had no idea how badly he could miss that man.

"Alex?" he whispered, reaching out to touch he shoulder. Alex jolted awake and Michael took a step back to give him space, letting him look around and make note of his surroundings. His face looked even worse now that he could see more of it. "God, your face."

Alex's eyebrows furrowed just a little at that and he reached up to touch his busted lip. He didn't bother going to his eye that had been swollen shut or the nasty claw-like marks on his cheek or his nose that looked crooked or the giant split beside his eyebrow. Michael's whole body hurt in guilt. If only he found him sooner...

"I'm gonna call Kyle, okay? He'll patch you up," Michael said softly.

"Wait," Alex said, voice so underused and body so wrung out that he immediately started coughing. Michael quickly grabbed a bottle of water from the mini fridge and handed it to him. He took it and downed it.

Michael waited, fingers itching to call Kyle for help.

"Um," Alex hummed, testing out his throat before he tried to speak again, "Don't call Kyle."

"But you're hurt."

"Bullies suck, shit happens," Alex said, shrugging his shoulders. Michael blinked in confusion.

"Bullies?"

Alex stared at him for a moment and looked around before reaching up to touch his face again. He winced and Michael just felt so helpless. He wanted to kill whoever did that.

"You know there's bullies in basic," Alex said. Somehow, Michael felt even worse. Basic? As in, basic training, something Alex had gone to a decade ago? What did that have to do with anything? And, more importantly, did people back then fuck up his face that bad?

"Alex, what–"

"Please just lay with me for a minute?" Alex requested, looking up at him in absolute desperation, "Please? I'm so fucking tired of everyone except you. I just, I need... Just give me you for a little while?"

Michael didn't know what to do. Logically, he should've said no. He should've called Kyle and Liz and told them something fucky was going on. And, even then, he shouldn't even think about touching Alex. When he came back to modern day, he would be so pissed if Michael took advantage of him being confused.

But then his Alex was hurt and confused and wanted him.

"Just a little while," Michael said slowly, "Then we're gonna go get your face checked out."

Alex nodded in agreement. Michael stepped out of his shoes and watched with hesitation as Alex settled back into bed, staring up at Michael like he was scared to take his eyes off him. He began to brainstorm as to what could’ve possibly led Alex to think it was 2009. Had someone hit him so hard he was disoriented? Was he having a mental break? Was he fucking with him? Or...

Butyricol.

But even that didn’t make much sense because, with Jenna, it only clouded the last few months. If that’s what was happening, how much was in his system? Would he regain his memories when he got it out of his system? Were they gone forever? Was that even what this was?

Michael sat down on the bed and Alex reached out to pull him closer, hands making themselves at home on his body. He slung his good leg over Michael’s hip and dragged his fingers over his side, making sure to feel each muscle and rib before he cupped his face. Michael felt like he was going to lose his goddamn mind. When was the last time Alex touched him so freely, so confidently, so sure that this was his place? Had it really been a decade?

“You look old,” Alex whispered, “I think I’m dreaming.”

Michael didn’t know how to respond. What the fuck was he supposed to say to that.

“Since when did you decide to grow a beard?” Alex continued, scratching the hair on his jaw.

“It’s not a beard, I just haven’t shaved,” Michael told him, eyes detailing all that was wrong with his face. He gently grazed his forefinger over his broken nose and Alex jumped slightly. Yeah, he really needed to get Kyle.

“But it’s gonna be all itchy when I kiss you now,” Alex whispered, moving in closer. Michael knew he should tell him to stop and ask more questions. He had no idea what Alex thought was going on, just that he thought he’d just gotten out of basic.

But Alex kissed him, careful not to hurt his own busted lip, and it was hard to remember to be an upstanding citizen.

“Sorry,” Alex said after he flinched in pain again, pulling away to touch his busted lip. Michael rested his hand on his hip. “Sorry, I-I want to kiss you, but it hurts.”

“Don’t apologize, it’s the thought that counts,” Michael told him, giving him a soft squeeze before pushing himself up to reach for his phone, “I’m gonna call Kyle, okay? Get him to come look at you.”

“Why do you keep talking about Kyle? I leave for a few weeks and you guys become buddy-buddy? Don’t call him,” Alex said, a little bit of harshness in his tone as he sat up. Michael eyed him again, trying to figure out exactly how to explain what was going on. He didn’t know how. He definitely needed Kyle and Liz as soon as possible. He texted them both. “Guerin, what the fuck is going on?”

“It’s gonna be okay, I promise,” Michael said, sending out his S.O.S. before turning back to Alex. He reached out, laying his hand on the side of his neck instead of his cheek like he wanted to. There didn’t seem to be a single feature on his face that hadn’t been hurt.

Alex thought they were 19. So Michael was going to act like he did when they were 19.

He moved in for a kiss, pecking the side of his mouth that wasn’t busted and then placing strategic kisses over his jaw and onto his neck. He could feel the tension bleed from his body and, if he could keep him that way, he would.

“Okay, but,” Alex said, sighing gently as he let Michael lay him back down, “I don’t want other people showing up. I just wanna be alone with you.”

“He’s just coming to make sure your face is okay,” Michael told him, kissing his collarbone just once before realizing that was bruised too. “Alex, where else are you hurt?”

“Why Kyle though?” Alex prodded. Michael ignored the question, tugging on the hem of his shirt so he could see more. “Jesus, I’m fine, answer me.”

Michael looked up at his eyes--or, rather, eye--for a moment to try and gauge how he should approach this situation. This whole thing felt like he was stepping around a landmine. He just wanted to wrap Alex up in his arms and sleep until he was back to normal. Or maybe he didn’t want him to go back to normal. Maybe him not remembering was a blessing in disguise...

No. Alex needed to have his memory.

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Michael asked. Alex swallowed, nervous energy radiating of him. Michael kept touching him in hopes it would give him something grounding to focus on.

“Last thing I remember was going to sleep two days before I got to leave basic,” Alex said softly, looking around again, “I think I’m dreaming. This is a dream.”

Michael caught his hand, bringing it to his lips and kissing the back of his hand softly.

“It’s not a dream, Alex,” he said softly, “But I’m right here and I’ve got you. It’s gonna be okay. Can I see where else you’re hurt?”

Alex looked like he was about two seconds from losing it entirely. Michael just kept touching him and kept hoping it’d be okay. Any moment now, Kyle would pull up and he wouldn’t have to handle Alex losing 10 years of his life by himself. Eventually, Alex agreed with a quiet little ‘yeah’ and Michael helped him get his shirt off.

Bruises littered his chest and his back like he’d been kicked extensively and Michael’s heart ached. He tried not to show that it made him so sad and instead pressed a kiss to his bare shoulder. Then he started helping him out of his jeans. Which, honestly, Michael should’ve thought more about before he did it.

“Oh my God,” Alex said, voice strangled and hands shaking as he caught sight of his prosthetic. That seemed to be the last straw, the final thing to make him panic. He began stammered and hyperventilating, trying his best to make words and form sentences, but nothing made sense. It was just a sea of why and how mixed in with crying and heavy breathing. He was so confused.

“Hey, it’s okay, breathe with me,” Michael instructed calmly, getting Alex to look him in the eye despite the fact that it was much harder than it should’ve been. He wasn’t okay. Michael was starting to wonder if he ever would be. “I’ve got you, I’m right here. Things are going to be okay.”

“I’m dreaming, I have to be dreaming, this isn’t real,” Alex told him, shaking his head. His eye that wasn’t swollen was wide and terrified. “This isn’t real, Guerin, tell me this isn’t real!”

“Let me take it off because you’ve probably had it on for a week and that’s not good, okay?” Michael said softly. Alex took a shaky breath, shaking his head.

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, baby, but I’ve got you. I’m right here,” he promised, rubbing his thigh gently. It seemed to be the only part of him that wasn’t fucked. He kept rubbing his leg and kept trying to keep him calm as he moved to text Kyle again, asking him to make sure he brought crutches with him.

When Michael turned back to Alex, he seemed a lot more calm. For anyone else, that might be a good thing. For Alex, it was certifiably not. Michael reached up to touch his face, hoping that would help ground him a little more. It was rare Michael could see him starting to dissociate, but right now it was obvious and, while it was understandable, he needed him to still be aware.

“Alex, it’s okay. I know it’s a lot, but it’s okay.”

“I wanna wake up now,” Alex said softly, distantly. It hit Michael in the chest hard.

“I know. But stay with me for just a little while longer, okay?” he asked. Alex was still for a few seconds before he slowly nodded as if the question had only then processed in his mind.

Instead of focusing to hard on that, Michael went to remove the prosthetic from his body. He moved slow and cautious, unsure of what to expect. He kept checking with Alex to make sure it didn’t hurt him, but he’d seemingly checked out entirely. It left Michael on his own.

He peeled off the prosthetic and then the liner, grimacing at the strong smell of sweat and the clear irritation that had been going on for the last week. Alex’s leg was red and swollen. With a little bit of telekinesis, he got a warm, wet washcloth without leaving Alex’s side. He didn't react.

Michael took his time giving him basically a sponge bath with the wet washcloth, starting with his stump and moving up. His chest was bruised and his the flesh covering his ribs was extra tender, but for the most part the worst was directed at his face. Michael didn’t know whether to be thankful or even more angry.

He cleaned off the dried blood around his pretty face and did his best to be careful. Alex was still zoned out in his state of shock or regular dissociation or both, his eyes unfocused and his reaction time ridiculously slow if it was there at all. Michael just cleaned him up and then wrapped him in the blanket so they could wait for Kyle.

Climbing back onto the bed, Michael pulled the newly-burritoed Alex into his arms. That was the first time he caught sight of the injection spot on the back of his neck. When he ran his fingers over it, it seemed to shock Alex’s system back to life and he gasped.

“What the fuck is going on?” Alex asked, that same panic coming to the surface. He tried to sit up, but Michael just shushed him and held him. He knew Alex. He knew he just needed comfort. “How did I get here? What’s going on? I-I don’t understand, what’s going on?”

“I’ve got you,” Michael murmured against his hair, kissing the side of his head, “I’ve got you and I’ll explain everything I can, okay? I promise.”

Alex ended up moving closer, clinging to him. He wouldn’t say it, but Michael wasn’t stupid. He could tell that he was scared. Michael couldn’t tell him not to be because he was scared too. They had no idea how this drug worked, they had no idea if or when it would wear off. The whole entire thing was question marks that he couldn’t fix.

So he held Alex and even when Kyle came in with his handy first-aid kit and Alex got uncomfortable, he held Alex.

“What’s going on?” Kyle asked, eyeing them as if he was intruding. Michael took a deep breath as he tried to think of a concise way to answer him.

“Whoever took him gave him that fucking drug they gave Cam, but they upped the dosage or something,” Michael said. Alex lifted his head at the new information. “He thinks it’s 2009.”

Kyle’s eyes widened. Alex took another deep breath, a small whine vibrating in his throat as he dropped his head back onto Michael’s shoulder. He was so tired.

“But more importantly, whoever was holding him, beat the fuck out of his face and I need you to look at him,” Michael said, slowly maneuvering Alex so his back was against his chest.

Kyle slowly moved closer before reluctantly sitting on the foot of the bed. Alex was laying heavily against Michael and Kyle wasn’t blind to the fact Alex not having his memories meant he didn’t know that Kyle wasn’t a dick anymore. Usually. But Michael kept talking in hopes to distract them both.

“I was thinking maybe Liz could do some tests? Maybe we can reverse the effects,” Michael said, rubbing his hands over Alex’s arms as Kyle reluctantly moved closer to his face. Kyle looked at Michael and then back to Alex. He knew it was judging him. “We need him back to our Alex if we’re going to get anywhere.”

“Yeah, we can head over to the lab as soon as I patch him up,” Kyle decided. He looked over Alex’s face for a few more seconds before getting up to wash his hands in the sink. “I’m gonna re-set your nose, get a couple stitches on your brow bone, and clean up the cuts.”

“Oh, and check his ribs. They didn’t feel broken to me, but it’s been awhile since I’ve broken a rib,” Michael said. Kyle sighed audibly before nodding.

“So,” Alex said softly, swallowing hard as he tried to sit up better, “I’m probably gonna regret asking, but if I’m not dreaming and it’s not 2009, what year is it?”

Michael leaned forward to press a kiss to his shoulder. “It’s 2019.”

Alex deflated against him with an exhale.

“Fuck. You really are old.”

Michael huffed a laugh and kissed his neck softly. He could feel Alex relax a little with each kiss. It made up for all the side-eyeing Kyle was doing when he sat back down.

“So, we’re friends with Kyle now,” Alex went on, trying to keep himself aware while also calm.

“Yeah, we made up,” Kyle said, wiping an alcohol pad basically all over Alex’s face. He barely winced. But his hand made it’s way to Michael’s, weaving their fingers together and squeezing. Again, Kyle looked at Michael like he was the biggest dumbass in the world before going back to Alex’s face.

They made small talk for the entire time Kyle was messing with his face, catching Alex up to speed and answering questions. They filled him in on how he got taken, but how they didn’t know by who or why or anything. They told him how he was a Captain in the Air Force, but would soon be promoted to a Major. All the little things like that, all the things to keep him distracted before they had to deprive him of sleep to go do tests on him to see if this could be undone.

“No broken ribs. Ten on the right might be a little cracked, though, it feels a little weird, so be careful when you’re on your crutches, got it?” Kyle said, more doctor than friend. Michael wondered if that was because of Alex not knowing their current friendship status. He was putting distance between them for the same reason Michael stayed impossibly close. “I’m gonna go get them and then we can head to the lab.”

Once he was gone, Alex turned to face Michael again. He was more settled now, past the panic and onto acceptance if only because he had no other choice. Michael did his best to give an encouraging smile. They were going to be okay. They were going to find a cure for whatever the fuck they did to him and bring him back.

Then they would fix things.

“So if I managed to make up with Kyle...” Alex said, voice soft and careful, “What are we?”

“We?”

“Me and you,” Alex pointed out, smiling sweetly through his bold question just like he did when he was young. Michael couldn’t help but smile. He missed that. “Where have we gotten in ten years?”

Michael stared at him, his smile faltering once he realized he couldn’t actually give him a positive answer. They were broken up and over and had gotten in a fight the last time they saw each other. Alex’s sweet promises that he would keep him safe being ruined by Michael pushing him until he got mad was what had stuck in his mind since he’d gone missing. There was no good answer to give an Alex who thought he was 19 and was hurt and yet still so goddamn hopeful that his future had them together.

So, instead of answering, Michael leaned forward and gave him a kiss. Alex laughed softly and folded into the kiss despite his busted lip. Sadly, it wasn’t the first time they’d kissed through a busted lip. He knew it hurt, he’d said it hurt, but clearly Alex’s priorities were on him. And wasn’t that just the best thing?

Kyle cleared his throat as came back inside and Alex moved away quickly. Michael squeezed his thigh gently in reassurance and Alex accepted the crutches. Kyle helped him steady himself and they both helped him out of the airstream.

Alex shoved them both away, though, as he started heading for Kyle’s car. He didn’t want any help. Because of course he didn’t.

“This is bad,” Kyle breathed softly. Michael sighed, watching Alex struggle to handle both crutches and open the door at the same time.

“Yeah,” Michael agreed, “But we’ll figure it out.”

And they would.

They had to.

#alexweek2020 #alexappreciation2020 #malex #malex fic #michael guerin #alex manes #roswell new mexico #my fic

138 notes · View notes

lightandwinged · 3 years

Photo

Haven’t posted the bobbins in a hot minute!

The twins turn three tomorrow! I legitimately cannot believe that I’ve been doing the fulltime mom thing to twins for three whole ass years. And I have to brag a little bit about their birthday stuff because last year, Covid suddenly happening two days before their birthday derailed everything--we’d been planning to go to the aquarium in Boston and take them to a special ice cream place and just have a great time, but then plague.

And they had a good time, but I felt bad.

So maybe this year I went overboard JUST a bit, both (a) because we could afford it (Kyle’s new job is pretty sweet like that), and (b) because I wanted this year to make up for last year being meh. I know they’re too young to really remember but on the off chance that they do, I don’t want them to remember two miserable Covid birthdays. One is enough.

I made cupcakes, because they are tiny, and cupcakes are easier to individually theme than bigger cakes. Carrie loves unicorns, Isaac loves Mickey and Minnie, it was a fun thing to do.

But kiddos overall.

Sam is inching closer to SEVEN YEARS OLD WHAT, is on his third lost tooth (my favorite tooth when kids lose it because it’s the one that really makes him look like a little jack o lantern), and speaks mostly in Pokemon these days. I understand none of it, but he is OBSESSED and keeps coming up with creative ways to bring them into his day-to-day life (he’s beaten Sword about three times and is currently working his way through whatever the previous title was on the DS; his favorite vacillates day to day, but he tends to go for fire types). I’m still homeschooling him until the end of the year because everyone keeps changing their mind about when people are going back and doing what. And he’s kicking ass. Currently whizzing through very basic geometry (e.g., finding simple perimeter and area) as part of his third grade math curriculum and working on recognizing patterns in science.

We also suspect that he’s either autistic or has ADHD (per his in-home therapists as well), but wait times for official testing are L O N G. We’re having him evaluated through the school, though, so that if he doesn’t get a diagnosis before he heads back in the fall (because I love him, but I do not love teaching him), he’ll at least have an IEP already in place and be able to get any assistance he needs. And that will most likely take the form of someone breaking tasks into smaller steps, maybe giving him fidget opportunities while he’s learning (he absorbs a LOT when he’s playing with Legos), maybe taking tests separately so that he can have someone read the questions aloud to him so that he absorbs them (because he can read, but unless he also HEARS things, he absorbs nothing).

He’s a terrifyingly smart kid still, and I have no doubt that he’ll be on par with his fellow second graders next year academically. I just want him to not feel overwhelmed while working.

Isaac is slowly slowly slowly gaining spoken language. I’ve said before and stand by that I don’t care if he never speaks completely fluently, but I do want him to be able to communicate his wants and needs so that he doesn’t get frustrated so much. And he does get frustrated, but his meltdowns remain rare--they usually only happen if something he loved doing ends or if someone takes his toy or won’t give him their toy or just other typical toddler stuff (which inclines me to classify them more as tantrums than meltdowns, but eh). BUT he also communicates, not just by taking someone’s hand and putting it on something he wants, but by using words. He LOVES to talk about the cats (which are his favorite thing--cats of all types, including those in the musical) (but NOT THE MOVIE DEAR JESUS), and the other day, he very meticulously directed me to draw a picture of the three cats happily sleeping on his bed, based on his memory of seeing them happily sleeping on his bed at naptime.

He’s definitely got his drilled down special interests--cats, cars, Mickey Mouse, Daniel Tiger, and Celtic Woman (we call them his “ladies”). And he is just such an absolute sweetie. He still has the smile that basically convinces you that you would both kill and die for him (shown above), and the way he relaxes against me when he’s tired just makes me sigh and love him to absolute pieces. He’s 110% a momma’s boy, and although I hope he grows out of it when the time is right, it’s really sweet right now.

He easily qualified for special ed preschool, which I’ll talk about more in a second.

And then Miss Carrie, who basically read the rhyme about little girls being made of sugar and spice and all things nice and took it as gospel but ALSO realized that you can do all of those things while being a monster, beating up everyone who treats you wrong, and covering yourself in tattoos. I say of her that she’s too much, but in the best possible way: I want her to keep being too much forever, because it is absolutely delightful. She’s always giggling or twirling, singing or commanding her brothers in a game of pretend. She never just walks anywhere, she always prances or skips or dances or hops or jumps. She can be a screechy little spitfire one second and then brush away her angry tears and transform into a little cherub the next, and it’s hilarious. Everything ever must be pink and glittery (I promise, I did not try and force pink on her, she jumped to it on her own), must flounce out correctly when she twirls, must make her feel like a fairy tale princess.

She merrily adopts all the stereotypical “girly” things in life--Barbies, princesses, My Little Pony (yep, we’re back in that phase), unicorns, mermaids, “cute” things, etc. At the same time, she’s always game for a lightsaber fight, playing “bug” with Sammy (I don’t know what “bug” is as a game, but the kids have established rules for it and play it whenever they’re not too tired after dinner), and wrestling with her dad and brothers. It’s wonderful.

And SHE qualified for special ed preschool because her muscle tone is hilariously low (read: she flops).

The twins are starting preschool Monday because they are turning three and thus losing early intervention services. I worry somewhat about them being in school with Covid still raging (even though I’m 50% of the way to fully vaccinated--going back for Pfizer #2 on Saturday!), but it’s a huge relief that their therapies (speech, occupational, physical) are being coordinated by the school and not by me. I’m the most organized person in this house, and anyone who’s ever seen my house knows what a statement that is (it’s gotten worse since my sciatica has settled in, because bending over is just not a thing I can do without suffering), so having that burden lifted from my shoulders? Heavenly.

And I’m just overall proud as fuck of all three kids. They’re so resilient, and I know that the pandemic has been hard on them in a lot of ways, but they’re still kicking ass, still smiling and laughing and having fun, and that’s been a bright spot for the entire last year.

#parenting #sammy the small spawn #isaac doomface #little care bear #hashtag twinning #holy shit they're three #them going to school is kind of like emerging from a long hibernation

12 notes · View notes

djchika · 4 years

Text

RNM fic: 5 Times the Malex Squad tried to intervene and one time when Kyle Valenti, self-proclaimed best friend to Alex Manes, had enough.

Kyle hadn’t been too proud to admit he was hurt Alex hadn’t said he was playing at the Pony. He’d stared at Alex all wounded and betrayed when Greg had gone on and on about how Alex’s song made him cry.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Alex gave him a look then mockingly repeated, “I really hate Open Mic Night.

“I meant country music and crappy spoken word poetry. I don’t mean you!”

“For the record Forrest is an organizer and he does spoken word. Maybe don’t say that around him if you’re serious about coming next time.”

Kyle had grimaced. Someday he was going to stop inserting his foot into his mouth, but it had not been that day. He did however, concoct a great plan to make up for missing Alex’s performance and accidentally dissing Alex’s new boy wonder and that was grabbing a table front and center during the next Open Mic Night.

He was even there early which was nice cause he was able to hang out with Alex and Forrest. What was unfortunate was that they had to excuse themselves the moment the program started – Forrest to host and Alex to do whatever musicians do to pump themselves up before a game. Unfortunate, because Isobel arrived dragging a surlier than usual looking Guerin and commandeered the empty seats.

“Um, someone’s sitting there.” Kyle pointed out.

“We’ll move when they get back,” Isobel said, “We’re just here for one song.”

Kyle scowled. Fine. He could just ignored them. He was gone after Alex’s anyway. There’d already been one guy singing about dusty roads and pick up trucks and that was already one song too many.

The moment Forrest said Alex’s name Kyle hooted embarrassingly loud grinning brightly when Alex rolled his eyes at him. He didn’t miss the softer smile Alex aimed at Guerin.

Kyle also didn’t miss Isobel’s soft “Oh no,” when Alex called Forrest up to perform with him.

It was a new song. One about hope and new beginnings. Alex sang and played the piano with Forrest reciting bits of poetry during the refrain. It would have been cringe-worthy if Alex’s music didn’t turn Forrest overly dramatic words into something heartfelt and beautiful.

Kyle could almost say he was enjoying it.

What he was not enjoying was the furious whispering between Isobel and Michael.

“This is stupid,” he heard Isobel hiss. “You should be the one up there singing with him.”

“We’ve talked about this.”

“Yeah, yeah. That was before you spent the last month and a half moping. Tripp and Nora never got their chance at happiness. I don’t want you to lose yours too.”

“You know what would make me happy? If you two shut up while Alex is singing,” Kyle interjected quietly. He trained a glare at Isobel. “Regardless of who’s up there with him this is a big deal for him singing with a guy and you’re ruining it."

Isobel huffed, but stayed silent.

Michael stared at him for a second looking like he’d swallowed curdled milk, before finally gritting out the word “Thanks.”

Ah. Apparently, that sour look was him experiencing gratitude towards Kyle. Figures.

“Your doctor said you can go back to work slowly. That doesn’t mean jumping straight into a 12-hour shift.” Kyle gave Maria his sternest doctor face, but Maria just brushed him off.

“It’s been two months. I’m not doing anything excessive. I was doing paper work, but Max needed a break.”

The fact that Max was now a bartender still broke Kyle’s brain sometimes. Not because there was anything wrong with bartending, but nerdy Max Evans was no bar hound.

“I said I could watch it for him,” Guerin grumbled from where he was brooding like a gargoyle on a bar stool.

“If I left you to watch over the bar, I’d be out of business and your liver would be one big alcohol rag.” She paused, then whispered low, “Wait, do you have a liver?”

“They do,” Kyle confirmed. He’d been intimately acquainted with Noah’s for a while.

“And we all know you really have a heart,” Maria said, poking Guerin in the chest. “Although why you enjoy breaking it, I have no idea.”

Kyle turned when he saw that Michael was no longer paying attention to them and was in fact, staring across the room where Alex and Forrest were alone in a booth.

Nope.

He gave Maria another stern look, this time coming from the guy who was fast considering Alex Manes as his best friend. “Your doctor definitely advises against meddling in other people’s affairs.”

Maria rolled her eyes, but didn’t press further. The pained grateful look Michael threw at Kyle was still hilarious.

“Valenti.”

“Evans. Guerin.” Kyle said, eyebrows up to his hairline. The two of them showing up at his doorstep at any time of day meant trouble.

“We need your help,” Max said, pushing Michael gently forward. The two of them showing up at his doorstep with Michael’s hand wrapped around a bloody shirt definitely meant trouble.

Trouble in this case was thankfully not of the alien variety. More like Guerin was apparently a genius who turned into a clumsy idiot around Alex. Kyle had known that for a long time now, but he’d figured after half a year of the whole tortured unrequited love schtick, Michael would at least learn to be less self-destructive.

“I didn’t do it on purpose!” Michael said, when Max pointed out the same thing.

“You’ve been fixing cars for how long?” Kyle asked as he wrapped a proper bandage around Michael’s hand.

“Since I was thirteen.”

“And you accidentally slammed the hood of your truck on your head then on your hand because?”

“Alex was out jogging shirtless,” Max said when instead of answering Michael huffed petulantly. “Which I still don’t understand, man. You’ve seen him shirtless before.”

“You wouldn’t happen to have some acetone, would you?” Michael asked Kyle, completely ignoring Max. “And another bandage to cover his mouth.”

Kyle ignored the second request, leaving to grab a bottle of acetone from the stash he’d started keeping for alien emergencies.

When he got back to the living room, Max still seemed to be ragging on Michael. “He doesn’t even know how you feel.”

“He doesn’t need to know. Not right now.”

“You keep saying that. It’s been more than ten years of waiting for the right moment.”

“Then what’s a couple more?” Michael snarked back.

Jesus. This again. His friends needed more hobbies aside from going after alien murderers and prying in people’s love lives.

Kyle thrust the bottle of acetone at Michael then told Max, “The patient needs to rest. You need to leave.”

“I drove him here.”

“You can come back for him after a few hours when I’m sure he doesn’t have a concussion,” Kyle said, practically pushing Max out the door.

“Thanks,” Michael said, resting his head against the back of Kyle’s couch and grimacing slightly.

He wasn’t sure if that face was because of Michael’s injuries or because he had to thank Kyle again.

"I’ll get you some ice for your head,” he stopped halfway to the kitchen and turned to Guerin. “You know whose side I’m on in this, right?”

Michael gave him a small lopsided smile. “I still hate you for what you put him through, but you’ve been a good friend to him lately.”

Kyle nodded. Yeah. It took him a long time to stop hating himself for that too.

True to her character, Rosa didn’t even try being subtle.

She gave Alex the stink eye when he walked into the Crashdown with Forrest in tow. “Wait, I thought Isobel said you were soulmates with Gu—”

“—Guh-regory.” Kyle blurted out, then backpedaled quickly when all three of them gave him confused looks, “and she said service mates, not soulmates. Which is wrong because Greg was in the Navy.”

Rosa raised her eyebrows then proceeded to sip noisily from her milkshake.

When Alex and Forrest moved on to their own booth, Rosa eyed him suspiciously. “Are you trying the protective older brother thing on Alex too?”

“I’m not trying to be anyone’s older brother. And you’re both older than me. Technically,” Kyle added. “Besides, Alex doesn’t need protecting. He’s happy. People should just let him be happy.”

“Whatever,” Rosa said with a roll of her eyes. Then she grinned. “You’re totally on Team Malex though right?”

“Malex?”

“It’s what Isobel calls them.”

Kyle shook his head. “People in this town have way too much time in their hands.”

The last straw was Liz literally lifting a straw from Alex’s leftover milkshake.

She had barely arrived back home updated on all the gossip thanks to Maria and Rosa and had apparently not changed one bit.

“No,” he said, grabbing the straw from her and grimacing at the sticky mess now in his hand.

“Rosa said Isobel mentioned a cosmic connection. If I checked for proof then maybe—”

“No,” Kyle repeated bringing the straw with him when he left the Crashdown.

Seriously, was he the only adult amongst his friends? This was getting out of hand.

“What’s the big emergency?” Isobel asked the moment the three aliens arrived at their newest secret bunker. Maria, Rosa and Liz were already sitting there, waiting impatiently for the reason Kyle had called the meeting.

Michael looked around, then froze. “Wait, where’s Alex?”

“Oh god, did he get kidnapped again?”

“No, he’s safe!” Kyle clarified quickly when six pairs of stricken eyes stared at him.

“Then why are we here?”

Kyle paused then said gravely, “This is an intervention. You all need to lay off Guerin and Alex. I know lately he’s been more sad, pathetic cowboy than angry cowboy, but he did the right thing walking away. It would have been a dick move rejecting Alex then going after him again just when he started going out with someone else. He’s right to wait until they’re both ready. So leave them alone.”

“You called us here to tell us to mind our own business, but aren’t you also technically minding their business by telling us to mind our own business?” Isobel asked, obviously faking confusion.

Maria and Rosa giggled, while Liz tried looked like she was trying not to smile and failing miserably.

Kyle crossed his arms, mustering his dad’s patented disapproving look and giving them all a good dose. “Alex has made his choice. If it’s the wrong choice then it’s his wrong choice to make. If we’re really his friends we need to respect that.”

Pulling out the friend card quickly sobered up Maria, Rosa and Liz who looked at each other guiltily. Max just sat there quietly seeming unsure why he was there in the first place, while Isobel finally huffed then finally nodded.

“Good,” Kyle declared. “No more pushing. No more meddling. Now we’re all going home, and Guerin is going to drown his heartbreak at the Wild Pony.”

“You really think Alex is that into Forrest?” Isobel asked, when everyone else had left and it was just her and Kyle.

Kyle let slip a small smile. Now that he had her word she wouldn’t interfere; he had no qualms in telling her what he knew. “Alex said it’s been fizzling out for weeks. They finally called it quits a few days ago.”

“What? Why didn’t you say anything? Michael could have rushed off to wherever Alex is and declared his undying love, black cowboy hat in hand.”

He gave her a look because 1.) they just went through this and 2.) Isobel was clearly watching too many soaps.

“Right. No meddling,” She pouted, then brightened immediately. “Doesn’t mean we can’t still watch in the sidelines. Where did you say Alex was again?”

“I didn’t,” Kyle paused and then added casually, “But we’re supposed to have drinks at the Pony tonight.”

Isobel gasped seeming to remember Kyle directing Michael to the same place. “You are such a hypocrite.”

“It’s not meddling if they just happen to be at same place at the same time at the right moment.”

She grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the door. “You and I are going there right now. We deserve to see this pay off.”

Kyle didn’t resist. As cheesy as all this was, he’d love to see Alex’s epic happy ending too.

#malex #alex manes #kyle valenti #michael guerin #kylex brotp #just pure kylex brotp #this is awful #but also pure id fic lmao #deej writes #deej writes malex #deej writes kylex brotp

113 notes · View notes

lambourngb · 4 years

Note

"Explain the tearaway pants again?"

“you can stay afraid ( or slit the throat of fear and be brave)” - title from Gang of Youths, and that’s all @haloud ‘s fault.

“Explain the tearaway pants again?” Alex asked, picking up the soft, shiny fabric from the box with an incredulous look to Kyle. Of all things he would have predicted as a birthday gift from Kyle, tearaway stripper pants was on the last page of the book, right before a father-son vacation voucher.

Which he had also received, as a birthday gift from Eric, his latest and most recent now ex-boyfriend. His heart was in the right place, since Alex did say he was estranged from his dad, and well-meaning but ignorant Eric, who called his parents daily, thought a trip to baseball parks would help.

It was hard to explain to anyone he dated that when he said he wasn’t close with Jesse Manes, that it wasn’t just parental tension over his sexuality that could be eased with more talking. How do you say to someone that your dad didn’t just hate his sexuality but had attacked and maimed a teenager over it. That even drugged up with Alex waving a white flag of surrender, even faked as it was, his father had shut down any mention or acknowledgment of who Alex was.

It was just easier to say that he and his dad did not see eye-to-eye and that it was unlikely to change. Alex had that weird thought that people, even alien shaped people, should be treated with dignity and not eradicated from the earth. There was no common ground to be found over genocide.

“I thought on the weekends, when you were wearing the prosthesis, you might find some use in easy to remove pants if you had your boyfriend over.” Kyle smiled, and moved to show him the tearaway seams that were cleverly hidden. “You told me that sometimes the mood fizzled because of getting undressed-”

“Ah,” Alex acknowledged, looking down at the box again. Another small white lie was coming back to bite him. It was true, getting undressed with someone new, was an ordeal. Forrest had handled it the best, outside of Michael, knowing just when to offer help and just when to back the hell off, but ultimately the secrets and running off because of a text about alien nonsense wore thin with him. After Forrest, he gave up on trying for a deeper relationship considering the number of secrets he guarded and went back to using a dating app which resulted in a few less-than-desirable responses to his leg.

Blaming the fizzle, on his awkward way of undressing, to Kyle was easier than mentioning that some guys lost their interest when the theoretical knowledge of his amputation became factual.

“You hate them.” Kyle reached for the box, which Alex tightened his grip on stubbornly.

“No, these are great and thoughtful, thank you. I was just thinking about the fact, I ah, Eric and I broke up today.”

“What?! Seriously?” Kyle glanced around Alex’s house with a clenched fist, as if he was waiting to see Eric appear, so he could fight him. “That dick broke up with you on your birthday? I never liked that douche.”

Alex smiled weakly, “You thought Eric was great, don’t lie.”

“I thought he was great because he didn’t act weird about your friendship with Guerin, and he’s one of the best scrub nurses in the OR but if he broke up with you on your birthday-”

“Okay well no need for workplace awkwardness, I broke up with him. In fact, you should probably take his side.” Alex gathered the wrapping paper to ball it up, and stood up to head into his kitchen, with Kyle following on his heels. He lifted the trash can lid, picking up the trip voucher on top to hand over to Kyle before disposing of the colored paper. “It’s not his fault, he is just probably too idealistic about the world for my taste.”

“Jesus, a father-son bonding trip? Yeah, no.” Kyle shook his head, before leaning against the countertop and studying Alex intently. “I don’t blame you for dumping him, I mean, you told him about how your dad treated you right?”

Once upon a time, to keep Kyle from demonizing Jim Valenti, the only man who was ever kind to Alex, he had revealed the extent of the abuse he suffered growing up. He never imagined that Kyle would end up being a part of his daily orbit, so it was at the time, a safe admission. The only reason he had any sort of comfort around Kyle now was he knew that Kyle had his own reasons for hating Jesse Manes. The support he received wasn’t pity, it was shared pain. Kyle understood, and of course Michael understood, but the rest of the world? He couldn’t trust it.

There were days when he wished he had been able to conceal the truth from Maria as a kid.

“My dad is a level of evil that approaches comic-book villain. It’s hard to come up with the vocabulary to explain it. It’s definitely not first date ground to cover.”

“You could just say what you said to me, that he was an abusive, homophobic dick.”

“I tried that actually, with Matt, but his dad is Army, so he thought I was just talking about typical macho man bullshit. His dad called him a fairy and won’t pick up the phone when he called his mom, but he’d never tried to kill him for being gay.” Alex rubbed at his forehead, and shrugged dismissively, “even if I could explain it, there’s still alien bullshit to worry about. Forrest couldn’t deal with my secrets, so…”

“Now that, my friend, we can commiserate over. Even if Stef understood my friendship with Liz, she was less supportive of running out on her to answer Isobel Evans' every little call. As Rosa calls it, those bitch ass aliens, strike again.” Kyle picked up his half-empty beer from the counter to clink against Alex’s in solidarity.

Later, after Kyle was gone, Alex wandered out to his patio to light a fire. Despite the voucher from the now ex Eric and the funny gift from Kyle, his birthday had gone well. Maria had treated him to an amp for his sound setup, an expensive gift had it been new, but this one was reconditioned by Guerin. Liz and Max had treated him to lunch at the Crashdown with a four show pass at the local concert hall. Rosa had baked a gourmet cake, and even Isobel had dropped off a bottle of expensive scotch.

Though it hadn’t worked out, Forrest had texted a nice birthday message along with an invitation to join a group of his friends for an antique market trip to Santa Fe.

Alex tipped his head back in his chair, listening to the crackle of the firewood settling in the pit and finally allowed himself to think about Michael, or more specifically the absence of Michael today. It was pressing on a bruise, to consider the gift from Maria might actually have been a joint gift. He didn’t think they had gotten back together again, but he wasn’t sure.

The gap in knowledge about Maria warred with the feeling that maybe Michael had forgotten, and it ached. He wasn’t sure which hurt more.��

His phone vibrated against his leg. Alex placed his beer on the ground next to his chair and opened the notification. It was his security system letting him know that someone had pulled up to the front of the house. His heart thumped painfully but hopefully as he recognized Michael’s truck.

Sitting with his back to the gate made him itch in anticipation but not fear as he heard the crunch of Michael’s boots against the gravel. “You’re late.”

“Yeah, sorry. Um, happy birthday” Michael replied as he closed the distance in the dark to Alex’s chair. He threw himself into the chair gracelessly, before picking up his phone to check the time, “I’m not too late am I? This says it’s after midnight.”

Shivering a little, even though it was warm, Alex took a sip of his beer. “You’re never too late, Michael.”

The words settled between them, weighty and revealing. Alex immediately wanted to take them back. That was too truthful. Perhaps he was getting maudlin because of his birthday, but having Michael, someone who knew him inside and out, after a day of feeling just out of step with everyone else, was a balm on his heart.

Michael placed his hat next to them on the patio, glancing back toward the house with a sympathetic glance. “I figured. And um, I heard from Valenti about Eric, so, I thought you might not turn me away if I showed up.”

“Is that why you’re here?” Alex took another long swallow, staring into the flames, as the previous comfort of Michael’s presence faded. Not a pity visit. He couldn’t take that. Not daring to look at Michael because seeing his profile lit up by the firelight always did things to Alex’s heart, he finished his beer. Things he was still working on letting go of for his own good. “I’m fine, it wasn’t serious with Eric.”

“I’m glad you’re fine, but that’s not why I’m here.”

There was a rustle of paper that caught Alex’s attention, and as he finally turned to face Michael, he froze. There was a folder in Michael’s hand. He couldn’t help but remember the recent past, where the cover of a folder barely covered the horrors of within. It was always gruesome intake forms or grisly after action reports that gleefully detailed the murder of civilians and the incarceration of aliens.

Michael shook the folder gently, “go on, it’s not gonna bite.”

Pressing his lips together in resignation, Alex reached for the folder. As rocky as things had been in the past, he was certain Michael wouldn’t try to hurt him on his birthday. It wasn’t his fault that Alex was a pessimist. Flipping open the manila cover, he paused again. His eyes roved down a list of names and numbers, along with a familiar family name.

“That’s my grandmother’s name,” Alex furrowed his brow in confusion looking over to Michael, as he leaned forward in happy anticipation.

“So last year, remember how I went to Texas with Max,” Michael began, and paused at the pained expression on Alex’s face. Right, it was unlikely that the beginning of Maria’s feelings had been forgotten. “Dumb question, okay well, we met an old woman from the Mescalero Res and her granddaughter. They were practicing some fake faith healing con game, which kinda pissed me off, until I realized the props they used were drawn from a visitor they had.”

“A visitor?”

“Yeah, they used lights to make their hand glow when they healed. She described a woman who lived there, and never spoke but had that ability. I drove there last month to ask her more about it. It turns out this woman was introduced to the tribe by your grandmother.” Michael smiled broadly, his fingers tapping with impatient energy. “So I went to the Diné people to ask about her. I know she’s passed on, but she left stories. An oral history. Err, they didn’t want to talk to me, being a white guy, but after I fixed just about every car on the Res-”

“That’s where you’ve been every weekend?”

Michael looked pleased, “You noticed?”

Caught out by just how aware he was of Michael’s movements, Alex gestured, “That’s not important, um keep going with your story.”

Still looking pleased, Michael picked up his tale, “So after I fixed every piece of shit car, every finicky generator, and promised that I would only repeat this to another member of the People, they told me what happened. Your grandmother and great-grandmother ran a sort of underground network for women in trouble. One night, in 1947, a group of ...visitors found her and her mom on the side of the road. They were waiting for supplies, from a sympathetic doctor.”

“Wait,” Alex stuttered, looking down at the list of names and numbers. “Are you saying-”

“They saved ten crash survivors that night, and scattered them to other tribes for safety.” Michael reached over to tap the paper, “I have no idea where they went, that’s still a secret to me, but… some of my people lived, free. Because of your family.”

Overwhelmed, Alex squeezed his eyes shut tightly. It was no use, he could feel the tears spilling out rebelliously down his cheeks, as he sucked in an unsteady breath. The weight of his name, of the evil done by his father, was still there, but now there was a counter-balance. Harshly Alex gasped for another breath, shuddering as a sob broke through his control.

“Sweetheart, oh god, I didn’t mean to make you cry-” Michael murmured, distraught as he shifted closer, placing a tentative hand on Alex’s shoulder. The simple touch unleashed what shaky hold on control Alex had, as he collapsed into Michael’s arms. Without hesitation, Michael pulled Alex into his embrace, letting him shake in the safe confines of his strength.

The poison that Alex had felt, writhing under his skin, from as long as he could remember was slowly being lanced and drained. It didn’t matter that Michael had never blamed Alex for his family, no words could touch that reservoir of toxin inside him that marked him a Manes Man. Only actions could.

On the day celebrating his birth, Alex could finally feel peace regarding the blood in his veins.

“I’m sorry, I should have let you know I was looking into your family after Arizona’s grandmother mentioned it. I was going to, if my campaign of fixin’ shit didn’t work, ‘cause you’re a member, they would have talked to you, I just wanted to give you some good info. But if I crossed the line, I’m sorry-”

Alex silenced Michael’s apologies with his lips.

His action halted Michael for a moment, before he groaned against Alex’s lips and deepened the kiss hungrily. His hands came up to cup Alex’s skull gently even as he increased his efforts of climbing into Alex’s skin through the sheer connection of the kiss. Long moments passed as Alex bit gently before diving into the silky heat of Michael’s mouth.

The need for oxygen won at last over his other instincts and reluctantly Alex broke the kiss. He kept his forehead pressed against Michael’s as they traded deep breaths in the silence. Closing his eyes, Alex spoke quietly, “If *I* crossed a line just then-”

“You didn’t, as long as you’re not sorry.”

Looking up at Michael’s dark, still slightly stunned eyes, Alex smiled weakly, “I’m not, but I admit, I didn’t see this happening. With you. I thought you didn’t want to go down this road again.”

Michael reached up, combing his fingers through Alex’s soft, growing dark locks gently. “I don’t want to go down the *same* road, but I was hopin’ we might find a different path. And full disclosure, we’re kinda ahead of my plans. I didn’t think you were gonna dump Eric today-”

Huffing a soft laugh, Alex replied wryly, “I wasn’t planning on it, but he thought my dad and I could patch things up by going to Wrigley Field together. He bought me a Field of Dreams-themed trip for me and dear old dad.”

“What. The. Fuck.” Michael blinked a few times, clearly running the words through his mind for meaning. “For one thing, you don’t even like baseball, and for another, your dad is a homophobic murdering psychopath.”

Alex burst out laughing at the offense in Michael’s voice. Pieces slotted into place, knowing that Michael understood not just on a theoretical level, but a deeply personal level just how fucked that suggestion was about Jesse. “God, you’re right, I hate baseball.”

He captured Michael’s hand, still stroking through his hair, and pressed a soft kiss on his rough calloused palm. Hands that had spent weeks working tirelessly for free just to get Alex some answers and peace about where he came from and who he was. A fresh burn of tears threatened as he thought about the effort Michael had expended.

“More tears?” Michael remarked softly, feeling the wet brush of Alex’s eyelashes against his hand.

“Happy tears.” Alex straightened and got to his feet, holding onto Michael’s hand. He cast a considering eye on the fire, deciding it had burned down low enough to install the fire pit cover. Rubbing his thumb against the silky seam of his pants, he tugged Michael toward the house, “So Kyle got me these pants for my birthday, and they were the second best present I had today.” His smile turned wicked as he led the way toward the bedroom with confidence, “I would really like to show you how they work, if you’re interested...”

#malex fic #andrea-lyn #malex #roswell new mexico #clings to well adjusted future malex #malex trash here #sunday fluff #malex is endgame

153 notes · View notes