wasting your tongue with lame excuses and lies - summary: the wedding party is small, huddled at the bar together, but damien is outside tonight instead. (shaymien/shourtney)
under glorious suns - summary: When the light finally sweeps over the city, they hold hands. No jokes. No bit. Just Ian and Anthony, exactly as they started- side by side. (ianthony)
time and hearts will wear us thin - summary: For a Smosh Pit challenge, they're asked to draw their own tombstones and come up with an epitaph for themselves. It's all fun and creative, but Ian doesn't really appreciate it much. (ianthony)
'til we bleed out - summary: There's always been something about Spencer's tattoos that draws Tommy's eye. Something deeper than the ink. (spommy)
Long Time Coming - summary: You and Angela had gotten good at hiding. Maybe it was time to stop. (request) (angela x reader)
ebb and flow - summary: You're usually fine. You have to be. But, sometimes, Shayne's there to catch you when you're not. (request) (shayne x reader)
Pull The Trigger - summary: People at Smosh know who you are. Mostly. (george primavera x reader)
your eyes look like they should be mine - summary: âIâm sorry, your eyes distracted me. What were you saying?â (request) (george primavera x reader)
striped lattes - summary: This Christmas season, Anthony's only a regular for you. (anthony x reader)
soft/hard - summary: Pain is something you're growing used to. Maybe you don't have to, though. (request) (damien x reader)
hunger - summary: You weren't hurting anyone, and it was normal. Everyone did it. Right? (request) (damien & reader)
Rhiannon - summary: She wasn't something you were expecting, but she was someone you'd (all) cherish. (request) (spencer x reader)
Gently - summary: Sometimes, Shayne noticed things about Chanse. Not all of them are good. (req) (shaynse)
breathe, keep breathing - summary: Bernardo exhales slowly, smoke curling toward the fan like itâs being personally invited upstairs. âYou know,â he says lazily, voice half-muffled by the haze, âthis feels like the kind of day people talk about after everything goes to hell.â
better - summary: âi found a can of dry shampoo in my car, and i think iâm gonna use it as mace.â (spangela)
leave a light on - summary: From a young age, Justin Foley has known heâs cursed.
tag - summary: Spencer doesn't drink. (spommy) (req)
you wrote the book, i just took a page out - summary: There have been moments in Ianâs life where he had the choice to let go or hold on. (ianthony)
blush - summary: June arrived with more nerves than they expected. (ianthony)
ââââď¸đŞâď¸âââ
the years
shoulder to shoulder - summary: Anthony didn't leave because he wanted to. He left because he had to. For reasons Ian wouldn't understand. For reasons Ian couldn't understand. For reasons he can't understand anymore. For reasons heâŚcan't remember. (ianthony)
stretching skin - summary: At eleven, Spencer learns how to fall. At thirty-five, he learns how to fly. (spommy)
exterminate your bones - summary: His hands shake where theyâre folded over his forehead. Heâd never really been suicidal. At least, not until recently. (req) (spommy)
blush - summary: When Courtney's fourteen, the ball starts rolling. When she's thirty, it finally stops. (shourtney)
ââââď¸đŞâď¸âââ
Hold My Girl series (spencer agnew x reader)
Hold My Girl - complete - summary: You're slowly becoming friends with everyone around you, including your 'boss', Spencer, but then something happens- and no one can know.
playlist
masterlist
Dance All Over Me - complete- summary: Every creak of the floorboards sends your pulse racing. Shadows look too familiar. Sleep comes in fragments, and even then, your mind drags you back to the worst parts. And when the nightmares spill into daylight, you start to wonder if healing is possible when the past is determined to leave claw marks.
masterlist
Saviour - ongoing- summary: Things are finally looking up. You and Spencer seem to finally be having your happily ever after- or whatever that looks like for two coworker nerds. Until you receive a slew of frightening messages, that is.
masterlist
Happy Christmas (War is Over) - summary: The lights twinkle on the tree, uneven and bright. Around you, people mull about and chatter, and everything is right.
ââââď¸đŞâď¸âââ
Chaptered
Shayne and Amanda Go Ghost Hunting! - ongoing - summary: When a routine evening at the Smosh studio spirals into terror, the team discovers that something ancient and intelligent has infiltrated the building- an entity that lives in shadows, mimics voices, and feeds on fear. And itâs only getting smarter.
chapter two
chapter three
reckless driving - ongoing - summary: âI guess Iâm not gonna get that rematch, J.R. Thatâs fine- I donât like losing.â
"here's my review of angela. whatever bar or restaurant you go to, by the end of the night, she's gonna be leading that whole place in song. you're gonna leave that restaurant and people are gonna be talking about that table that you were at. they'll be like, 'they were the life of the party.' as soon as you guys leave, show's over."
i love it when i can tell you have notifications on for my posts. like yes please keep spamming the second i post or reblog it actually fills me with so much joy.
I can't remember my actual age, but it was in the range of 10 to 13 I think. my parents had dragged me to a Pride festival, and walked across the street from the main event, across where the lines were drawn, to where a sea of people in red shirts that read "god has a better way" tried to drown out the celebration with speakers blasting christian music, and shouting and loud praying.
the leaders pulled all us kids to the side and gave us the spiel. they told us how the rainbow had been stolen from us, and that these people were tricked by the devil and just needed prayer, but that if we didn't save them, they were going to hell.
I rolled my eyes because I already didn't believe in god, and although I barely knew what being gay was, I knew my parents were usually on the Wrong side of things, and I shouldn't be siding with them.
"We aren't allowed over there if we're wearing the red shirts," the leaders told us, "so we're sending people over in secret without them so you can pass out tracts and pray for people. they won't talk to us, but they'll talk to the kids. does anyone want to volunteer?"
the people in red shirts disgusted me. the people on the other side of the line were cheering and having fun. I raised my hand.
we were supposed to go in groups with young adults, to make sure we were doing what we were supposed to be. I wandered off the minute I could and stood nervously at the edge of a crowd, watching on as people went by, happy and unbothered by the protests across the street. I felt a little pride myself in tricking the protestors into giving up a witness spot to me, when I was going to smile on and think profanities at god instead.
there was an older woman standing outside the crowd too. she asked if I was here with anyone, a girlfriend maybe? I said no, my parents were across the street. she nodded, and said she was here with her kid. a daughter, that she came to support, but couldn't keep up with in the crowd.
I almost cried. I told her how amazing that was, because I couldn't imagine my mother showing support like that to me over anything, much less something as serious as Being Gay. I imagined if I was gay, and at a pride event just like now, but this time because I Belong.
I knew automatically that my mother, without a doubt, would still be in the same place, across the street.
I got hungry after a bit, and tried to find a good food truck. I had a little money and I was unused to being on my own like this, but I didn't want to go back to the Other Side. I knew now without a shadow of a doubt, this was the Good side and that was the Bad side.
as I was eating the gyro I got, there was a stream of red shirted protestors trickling through; I had reached the end of the boundaries, and the protestors were allowed in here. I backed up a little, spotting my dad among them. I didn't want him to tell me to go back.
there was a line of women closing ranks around the Pride attendees, separating them from the protesters as they walked through. they spread their arms out and told every person the protesters spoke to that they were not obligated to respond, they could walk away and not engage.
my dad spotted me back, and made a beeline over. he couldn't cross over because a butch lesbian stood between us. I didn't know what those words meant, but I never forgot the buttons she was wearing.
he tried to tell me that it was time to go. "you're not obligated to speak to him," the butch said, cutting him off and edging further between us. I smiled at her, a little in wonderment. no one had ever told me that I didn't have to speak to my parents, or do anything other than blindly obey them. I watched my dad get held behind a line by a woman half his height, with no intention on letting him get to me, and I smiled and walked away.
I didn't have a clue who I was then, and I wouldn't for a good few years to come. but I never forgot the supportive mother, who symbolized to me everything a mother should be, that mine, for all her religious self righteousness, would never hold a candle to. I never forgot that she was the person I wanted to be, and my mother was the person I did not want to be.
I never forgot the butch who stood between me and my dad, and for the first time ever, put the idea in my head that I was ALLOWED to make my own choices in my beliefs, and made me feel protected in a way I hadn't known I needed.
the image of her standing between me and my dad, being a physical barrier to protect me against any potential threat, that inspired the image of who I admired and wanted to become. it inspired the version of me who could stand up to my dad - to the point that I could hold my ground and educate him enough that over a decade later, he walked side by side with me at a pride festival, with no intent of witnessing to or condemning anybody.
pride month may be over, but the impact this month and these events can have is so damn important. I became who I am because of two people I met at a pride festival. I'll never forget.
oh my god bro i literally have never felt as attracted to him as I did seeing that post and Amanda just casually posted it like we would be normal about it
The concept of a woman leaning back and you can see her ribs poke out a bit but they no longer look like ribs, but instead look a bit like spread angel wings LORD let me be gay and find a woman please I beg
when i write with "Y/N", i imagine a separate character telling their own story from second pov. i never imagine y/n as the reader, but as a separate character, in case you read any of my reader fics. but apply y/n as you will! preference is preference
And if we make it out alive
Won't you be my ride or die?
And if we make it out alive
Baby, I'll be by your side
song: fell in love at the end of the world - george ezra
(alternatively: welcome home (reprise) - radical face)
summary: It makes you imagine what could have happened if you and Spencer had never crossed paths, if heâd stayed your unbothered boss instead of being your boyfriend. You catch yourself imagining your life without him and with him more often lately. You hope Spencer looks at you like Shayne looks at Courtney, too.
wordcount: 6,135~
pairing: spencer agnew x reader
warnings: previous domestic abuse, mental health issues, poor communication, past assault, author's tears woven into the script
Birds chirped happily outside, following the soft rays of sunlight coming through the curtains. Blinking blearily, your eyes opened, filling with that same gentle light. Frowning, your eyes adjusted to the room, and yeah, this wasnât your bedroom?Â
The soft pittering of snores from Spencer drew your eyes up from where your head rested on his chest. Right, you guys fell asleep on the couch. Racing heart slowing down, you became aware of the hand resting firmly against the small of your back, as though keeping you close and preventing you from leaving. Your heart ached slightly, knowing Spencer had to consider things like that. Scooting carefully from his grip, you stood, heading for the kitchen where you knew Ian had restocked your coffee supply (courtesy of Shayne, but Ian wasnât going to let him limp up four flights of stairs just for that).
There wasnât much food at all in the apartment, so you quietly ordered breakfast. You half considered ordering Waffle House just for the bit, but instead went for a small cafe that Spencer kept saying you guys needed to try. It wouldnât be quite the same, but it was still something to say thank you.
Getting a to-go coffee for yourself for the office and a smoothie for him (it had the same flavours as his favourite Kickstart, so you were hoping heâd like it), as well as food, you turned back to the now-finished single-serve coffee. The apartment was still quiet.
Coffee warmed your hands as you leaned against the counter, watching the pale morning light creep across the floorboards. It felt strange being here alone, even if Spencer was only a room away. Strange in the way everything felt lately, familiar and unfamiliar at the same time.
The front door buzzer startled you. You jumped, then immediately rolled your eyes at yourself. "Okay," you muttered. "We'll work on that."
A few minutes later, the food was spread across the kitchen counter. The smell alone was enough to fill the apartment. Apparently also enough to wake Spencer.
A muffled groan came from the living room, then silence, then another groan. You bit back a smile. A minute later, Spencer appeared in the doorway looking thoroughly disheveled. His hair was sticking up in at least four different directions. One sleeve of his shirt had somehow become twisted halfway around his arm. The blanket from the couch was still draped around his shoulders like a cape.
He stopped when he saw you. His eyes immediately dropped to the food. "...Is that breakfast?" You raised your coffee. "Good morning to you too." His gaze didn't move. "You bought breakfast."
"You've correctly identified breakfast."
Spencer squinted at the counter, and then back to you. You couldnât tell if he was scrutinizing or if he genuinely couldnât see without his glasses.
"You left."
You softened immediately. "Just to the hallway." His shoulders visibly relaxed and a hand rubbed briefly across the back of his neck. "Sorry."
"You were asleep."
"I know."
The apology wasn't really about that, and you both knew it. Youâd left him while asleep, let him wake up to an empty spot. A few months ago, that wouldn't have meant anything. Now it did. You crossed the kitchen and pressed a quick kiss against his cheek. "I'm here."
The tension in his shoulders eased instantly. "Yeah," he said quietly. His eyes landed on the smoothie. He picked it up, squinting. "...You bought me a fake Kickstart."
"It has vitamins."
"It has mango."
"Close enough."
Spencer took a sip. You folded your arms. "Well?"
He looked genuinely offended. "This is really good."
"I know."
"No, like annoyingly good."
"I know."
"You can't keep being right about things."
You laughed. "I'll do my best."
By the time breakfast made it to the dining table, the apartment felt different. Less like a place you'd returned to, more like home again. The two of you sat across from each other with coffee and food and nowhere to be for another hour. Spencer had just taken a bite of his sandwich when his eyes narrowed.Â
"What?"
He pointed toward your cup. "That's office coffee." You glanced down at the to-go cup sitting near your elbow, still hot. "Maybe."
"You bought yourself work coffee."
"Maybe."
"You're planning on going in."
You took a very deliberate sip of your mug of coffee, ignoring the paper cup. Spencer stared. "You won a trial yesterday."
"I know."
"You slept on a couch."
"I was there."
"You should take a day off."
You considered it, shrugging. "I kind of want normal."
Something in his expression softened. Normal. A day where nobody asked you to recount the worst moments of your life. A day where the biggest problem might be someone forgetting to attach a file. Spencer leaned back in his chair. "That's fair."
You smiled. "You coming with me?" His eyebrows rose. "To work?"
"Everyone's going to want to see you."
A laugh escaped him. "That's because they all think I need supervision."
"They're not wrong."
"Rude."
"You know Trevor is probably taking bets on whether you've eaten vegetables this week."
"I have."
"When?" Spencer opened his mouth to retort, but came up short. As he closed his mouth, you grinned smugly. "That's what I thought."
The sound of his laughter filled the apartment.
ââ´ď¸Ë･â
Sure enough, Ianâs eyes almost bugged out of his head the second he saw you and Spencer.Â
âWhat the hell are you two doing here? Do I need to institute a mandatory leave for, I donât know, literally being on trial?â Grinning, you sat down at your normal corner, pulling out your laptop and sipping your coffee happily. Spencer shook his head and followed, standing beside your chair with a hand on the back.
Ian trailed after you both, looking like heâd seen a ghost more than anything. His voice was exasperated. âIâll suspend you. Donât make me suspend you, that goes on your company record.â
You just raised an eyebrow at him, and he huffed before falling into a chair at the table. He looked between the two of you for a moment, studying you. He clasped his hands together, leaning over them on the table. âHow are you, really? And donât give me any of that shit about âoh, Iâm great, never better, yadda yaddaâ.â
Spencer snorted and you set your cup down, searching Ianâs face. His eyes seemed tired, more than usual, but they were brighter than youâd seen them in weeks. Levi had taken a toll on everyone, and you were more than grateful that he was finally gone. Even if you had to see him one more time for the sentencing, you could still die happy.
âIâm okay. Really,â you added hurriedly, seeing the argument brewing on the tip of his tongue. âIâm really, really good. Iâm just ready to have my life back.â
Ianâs face softened at that, and you felt Spencerâs hand move to rest on your shoulder. The older manâs eyes flicked to it and then to the man himself. âYou? Donât pretend youâve been all sunshine through this, either.âÂ
âTired as shit, but like she said, Iâm ready to get my fuckinâ time back.â
Laughing, you nodded approval, half-listening as the two began chatting. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see more people coming and going from the entrance, tapering out into the hallway or entering the main space. You saw as Courtney and Shayne arrived, trailed by Angela and Trevor. Court and Trevor headed for the Pit stage as Shanye and Angela approached the bullpen. Your heart lightened slightly, noticing that it seemed slightly easier to walk for Shayne. He hadnât even brought his crutches with him, though they could still be in his car, but a small win was a win nonetheless.
The two nearly walked past you before Shayne did a double-take, almost tripping Angela in the process. She turned to see what heâd stopped for and gasped. âY/N! Oh my GOD, youâre here! Why are you here?â
Gesturing to the table, the two took seats beside you, careful not to sit between Spencer and Ian, who were still talking. Spencer had moved to sit down on your other side, leaving a few chairs between the two. Angela, who wasnât crippled, made it first and took the chair closest to you. "No, seriously. Why are you here?"
You laughed. "I work here?"
"That's not an answer."
"It literally is."
"It isn't."
Beside her, Shayne dropped into a chair with a groan. "I told you they'd come in." Angela pointed at him. "You also said Spencer would chain her to the couch."
"I considered it," Spencer said. You turned and Spencer shrugged completely unapologetically. Ian looked vindicated. "THANK YOU."
"Traitor," you informed Spencer. He just shrugged, turning back to Ian with a slight grin. Shayne leaned back in his chair, studying both of you. "You know, for people who spent the last few months living through a nightmare, you two seem weirdly normal."
"That's because we're exhausted."
"Fair."
Angela's eyes softened slightly. "Seriously, though. You okay?" You smiled faintly. "I think so. Iâm not⌠fixed, or anything, but IâmâŚ" you glanced around the bullpen. "...good."
Angela seemed satisfied with the answer. Shayne, however, squinted. "That's suspiciously mature."
"Thank you?"
"No, I don't trust it."
"You're impossible."
Before Shayne could respond, a familiar voice echoed across the room.
"WAIT."
Everyone turned. Damien had just noticed you. The realisation hit him in stages. First confusion, then recognition, then outrage. "WHY are you here?"
You dropped your forehead onto the table. "Oh my god." Angela immediately cackled and Shayne looked just as delighted. Damien was already speed-walking toward the bullpen. Trevor followed behind him at a considerably more reasonable pace. "You can't just show up after all that happened!" Damien continued.
"You literally saw me yesterday."
"Yesterday you were IN COURT."
"And today I'm at work."
"THAT'S WORSE."
Trevor pulled up a chair. "Actually, I agree."
"Thank you."
"No."
You blinked.
Trevor pointed at you. "You should've taken at least one day."
"Oh come on."
"No."
Damien nodded vigorously. "Correct." Ian looked deeply pleased that people were joining his side. "Finally. People with sense."
Spencer immediately ruined it, grinning. âYou know, she even convinced me to come in today." Ian looked betrayed. "Spencer."
"What?"
"You were supposed to be the responsible one."
"Have you met me?"
A reluctant snort followed.
The conversation dissolved after that. Courtney eventually appeared from the Pit, immediately abandoning whatever theyâd been doing to practically launch herself into the empty chair left at the table beside Ian.
She looked you over and nodded. "Good." You blinked. "Good?"
"You look like you slept."
"Wow."
"I'm serious."
Shayne snorted. "Theyâve been saying that for months."
"Because she looked terrible for months."
"Courtney."
"What? She did."
You groaned into your coffee. Spencer gave you a comforting pat on the arm, grinning at your misery. You glared back, but there was no heat. If nothing else, you were glad your coworkers (friends) cared so much about you.Â
Seeing everyoneâs attention slowly melt from you and onto one another, Angela poked your hand. âI feel like we havenât caught up in ages. How are you? Besides all the stuff with Levi, how are you?âÂ
âIâm⌠okay. Iâm good. Tired, nervous, but good. How are you? I donât really know much about your life right now.â
âWell, I recently got a roommate. Sheâs an old friend from college whoâs having a rough time, so sheâs staying with me indefinitely. But itâs really nice, it reminds me of college dorms and being surrounded by friends all the time. Itâs better than being alone all the time, honestly. Sometimes you need more than just your pets, you know?â
You smiled. "I get that." Angela's expression softened a little. "Yeah?"
A comfortable silence settled between you. Then, because Angela couldn't leave a serious conversation alone for too long, she leaned forward. "Anyway, she's a terrible roommate." You barked a laugh. "What?"
"I'm kidding. Mostly."
"Angela."
"No, listen." She pointed dramatically. "She leaves tea mugs everywhere."
"That's a crime."
"Thank you."
"However," Angela continued, "she also cooks."
"Oh."
"Exactly."Â Shayne nodded sagely, leaning onto his elbow to join the conversation. "That's roommate immunity."
"You understand."
"If somebody made me dinner every night, they could leave mugs in my bathtub."
Angela snapped her fingers. "SEE?"
Across the table, Ian looked up. "Please don't normalize that."
"Too late."
"You people are exhausting."
At some point Chanse and Arasha wandered over, pulling up chairs and immediately demanding updates on everyone's lives. A few minutes later Bailey joined the growing circle. Soon enough, the bullpen was loud. Comfortably loud.
You found yourself mostly listening. Trevor arguing with Damien about some completely insignificant detail. Courtney dramatically reenacting something that had happened in rehearsal. Ian pretending to work while actively participating in every conversation within a ten-foot radius. Shayne looking healthier than he had in weeks, even if he still moved carefully.
For a while, you just let yourself enjoy it. Then your phone buzzed. Your shoulders immediately tensed. Beside you, Spencer noticed instantly. His eyes flicked to your hand, then to your face. You saw him recognize it.
Without saying anything, he reached over and squeezed your knee once beneath the table.
You looked down. The notification wasn't anything important, just a delivery confirmation for something you'd ordered weeks ago, before everything. Still, your pulse took a second to settle.
When you looked back up, Angela was watching you carefully. You exhaled slowly. "Still working on that part."
Angela nodded. "That's okay."
Spencer's hand stayed resting lightly against your leg beneath the table. Not much work happened, besides a few people coming and going to film shoots. Ian made no move to leave your table all day, always finding something to talk about when heâd notice you getting spacey or too quiet.
When you finished your coffee, Shayne somehow sensed it and appeared from the kitchen with three mugs balanced precariously in his hands. He grinned proudly as he handed one to you and another to Ian, clearly showing off now that his hands werenât full with crutches. You took the mug with a soft thank-you.Â
"Look at that," Ian said immediately, accepting the mug. "A functioning adult." Shayne looked offended. "I've always been a functioning adult." Ian raised an eyebrow. âYou once tried to carry six drinks, a bag of food, and your keys all at the same time.â
âAnd I succeeded.â
âYou dropped the keys into a storm drain.â
âThe drinks survived.â
âThat was not the metric I was using.â
Shayne grinned into his coffee, clearly pleased with himself anyway. You watched the exchange over the rim of your mug, the warmth of it seeping into your hands. The bullpen around you had thinned out while people disappeared into shoots, leaving the table feeling oddly peaceful.
Ian took a sip, then studied Shayne for a second. âHowâre the ribs?â Shayne rolled one shoulder carefully. âBetter. Still feels like I got hit by a truck, but a smaller truck.â
âThatâs progress.â
âIâll take it.â
You smiled faintly. âYouâre moving better.â Shayne glanced down at himself like he hadnât noticed. âYeah. Itâs weird not having the crutches. I keep reaching for them.â Ian nodded knowingly. âThe body gets used to support.â
For a second, the comment seemed to mean more than just the crutches. Shayne looked at him, then at you, and the three of you sat in the quiet understanding of it.
Finally, Shayne blew across his coffee and said, âWell, if Iâm a functioning adult now, I expect a certificate.â Ian didnât miss a beat. âIâll print one. Gold star included.â
âExcellent. Put âCan Carry Three Mugs Without Injuryâ on it.â
âA very specific achievement.â
âIâm a specialist.â
You laughed, the sound escaping before you could think about it. Shayne looked pleased with himself. Ian shook his head fondly and went back to his coffee. With a soft squeeze to your shoulder, Shayne left you and Ian in favour of finding where Courtney and Amanda had run off to. You watched him walk away with a soft smile, which stayed on your face for the rest of the afternoon.
ââ´ď¸Ë･â
You and Spencer followed Courtneyâs car home, chatting about your days on the way over. When you arrived, Courtney was rather reluctant to give Peanut back, but did so anyway, pressing a few kisses to her furry forehead.
âYou be good for your momma and daddy, alright? I donât want to hear about any Justice Kitty mishaps for at least a month.â Shayne watched fondly from the porch, eyes leaking affection for the woman heâd married. Sometimes you noticed the small looks they shared or gave one another, and it was always gut-wrenching to imagine they couldâve gone their whole lives never meeting if certain cards never played out.
It makes you imagine what could have happened if you and Spencer had never crossed paths, if heâd stayed your unbothered boss instead of being your boyfriend. You catch yourself imagining your life without him and with him more often lately. What it could look like if you parted ways. What it could look like if you got married like Shayne and Courtney. You hope Spencer looks at you like Shayne looks at Courtney, too.
Spencer took the carry bag as you filled your arms with Peanut, looping Courtney into a one-armed hug. Their arms came around you, warm and comforting, and your face buried into their shoulder.Â
âThank you,â you mumbled. âWhat for?â she whispered back.Â
âJust for⌠everything.â
You felt her smile into your hair, and you both fell silent. You could hear Shayne and Spencer conversing near the house, but made no move to join them. Youâd missed Courtney, and it was time you got back to loving your friends instead of fearing for their lives.
Finally home, you let Peanut roam the apartment, sniffing out all the chemical scents and meowing unhappily at the empty cupboards. The second she reached the food area, she stopped. "You were gone for, like, three days," you informed her.
Another meow.
Spencer set the carrier beside the couch and folded his arms. "She has a point."
"She does not."
"She came home to an empty pantry."
"She came home ten seconds ago."
Peanut meowed again. Spencer nodded solemnly. "A devastating experience."
You pointed at him. "Don't encourage her."
"I'm not."
Peanut immediately trotted over to Spencer. He scooped her up without hesitation, earning a loud purr. "There she is."
"Unbelievable."
"She missed me."
"She was literally with Courtney, she saw us yesterday at Anthonyâs."
"She missed me differently."
You rolled your eyes but couldn't stop smiling. The apartment felt different with Peanut back. Less empty, less like a place you'd returned to after surviving something. More like home. Spencer seemed to feel it too. You watched him carry Peanut toward the couch, cat already draped over his shoulder like a scarf.
For a moment, the sight caught you off guard. It felt normal, the sort of thing you hadn't let yourself imagine for a long time. You'd spent months measuring life in emergencies. Now you were standing in your kitchen watching your boyfriend carry a cat around the apartment while said cat purred like a small motor.
The contrast was almost dizzying.
Spencer noticed you staring. "What?"
You blinked. "Nothing." His eyes narrowed immediately. "It's not nothing." You busied yourself with taking off your shoes. "It's nothing."
"Liar."
You laughed. "Maybe."
"Thought so."
Peanut chose that moment to abandon Spencer's shoulder and leap onto the couch. After two circles and approximately thirty seconds of kneading a blanket, she collapsed dramatically. Spencer glared at her, offended. "Oh, so now you leave."
Peanut ignored him.
"Wow."
You snorted. "She got what she wanted."
"Which was?"
"Attention."
"That's also what I want."
"You are thirty."
"And?"
Before you could answer, he crossed the room in three steps and wrapped his arms around your waist. The familiar scent of citrus and laundry detergent filled your senses. You relaxed against him automatically.
Neither of you spoke for a minute.
Spencer rested his chin lightly on your head. "You were quiet in the car." You traced absent circles against his forearm. "Just thinking."
"Dangerous."
"Shut up."
His laugh rumbled through his chest. You smiled despite yourself. "What were you thinking about?" he asked. The honest answer sat on the tip of your tongue.
Courtney and Shayne, he future, marriage. Everything you'd spent months refusing to think about because surviving had taken all your energy. You hesitated, then decided against saying all of that, at least for now. Instead you settled for the simpler truth.
"About how nice it is to have everybody back."
His arms tightened slightly. "Yeah." The answer came without hesitation because he knew exactly what you meant. After a moment Spencer pressed a kiss into your hair. "We should order groceries."
You laughed. The abrupt change of topic was so very him. "We absolutely should."
"Otherwise Peanut's going to file a formal complaint."
A loud, offended meow came from the couch. Both of you turned. Peanut stared at you from her blanket nest. Spencer pointed. "See?"
"She's literally proving your point."
"Justice Kitty never lies."
Before either of you could move for your phones, a knock sounded at the door. Spencer pressed another kiss to your head before letting you go and heading for the door. He opened it to see Alex in the hallway, arms laden with bags.
Alex peeked around him to spot you, grinning. âI brought dinner? I figured you two hadnât gotten food yet.â A persistent meow sounded from the couch, and they chuckled. âI also brought cat-friendly food, donât worry.â
Letting him in, you watched Spencer take a bag from Alex and head to the table. âThis is⌠a lot of food for three people, isnât it?â Looking over his shoulder, Spencerâs glasses slid down his nose. Alex grinned more nervously this time. âI⌠may have invited a few people for your totally secret housewarming party? Since you already lived here when you got together, I figured now was a good time for the housewarming, after everything.â
Spencer looked like he might argue, but you walked forward, wrapping your arms around Alex. âThank you,â you said into their chest. âWeâd love company.âÂ
Suddenly sniffly, you turn your face into his shirt completely, and his hand rests on top of your head. Leaning down, he whispers to you. âIâm proud of you, Y/N. Iâm so proud of you.â Pressing a kiss to the crown of your head, he looks up at Spencer, eyes just as wet as yours.
Deflating, Spencer nodded, eyes softening at you. Returning your hug, Alex nodded. âGreat!â Pulling back, he hummed. âSo, I did actually get Peanut stuff, and you guys too. Itâs all still in my car, but I figured I should bring up the more perishable stuff first.â
Alex disappeared back out the door before either of you could protest further.
You heard the elevator ding a moment later, then another voice. Then another. Spencer slowly looked at you. You looked at Spencer, wiping your eyes of their moisture. "...How many people did he invite?" you asked.
"I don't think he knows."
The door opened again before either of you could speculate further. Alex backed through it carrying another armful of bags. Directly behind him came Courtney.
"HELLO, HOUSEWARMING!"
Shayne followed at a much more reasonable volume, balancing a six-pack of soda under one arm. "He said secret, Court."
"It was secret until I was invited."
"That's not how secrets work."
"Too late."
She spotted Peanut on the couch and immediately abandoned the conversation. "Oh my god, my daughter." Peanut looked mildly alarmed as Courtney scooped her up. "You were gone for so long." A dramatic meow followed. "I know, sweetheart." Spencer pointed accusingly. "See? That's where she gets it." Courtney gasped. "Excuse me?"
"You both thrive on attention."
"You say that like it's a bad thing."
Before Spencer could answer, the doorway filled again and Angela appeared carrying a grocery bag. Trevor followed with what looked suspiciously like an entire cake. Damien somehow had a bunch of balloons.
You stared. "...Why do you have balloons?" Damien looked offended. "It's a party."
"It's a housewarming."
"Exactly."
"You already know where the house is."
"That's not the point."
Alex finally set down the last of the bags with a groan. "I may have gotten carried away."
"May have?" Spencer echoed.
"Okay, definitely."
The apartment rapidly descended into organized chaos. Groceries appeared on counters, takeout containers multiplied across the dining table, someone put music on low in the background. Within twenty minutes, your apartment was full of voices.
Courtney sat cross-legged on the floor with Peanut sprawled in her lap. Shayne had claimed a corner of the couch and looked more relaxed than you'd seen him in months, one hand resting in Courtneyâs hair in front of him, no crutches to be seen.
Angela and Trevor were arguing about movie rankings while Damien vehemently argued against both of them for the bit. Ian and Anthony made an appearance later into the night, bringing wine and a set of canvases and paint respectively. Alex floated between groups making sure everyone had food.
You stood in the middle of it all for a moment. Spencer appeared beside you carrying two drinks. He handed one over automatically. "What?" he asked when he caught you staring.
You shook your head. "Nothing."
"Liar."
"Maybe."
He smiled.
The noise washed over both of you. Someone laughed loudly from the living room. The apartment felt smaller than usual, but so much warmer. Spencer followed your gaze around the room. A softness settled into his expression. "We're okay," he said quietly.
Your throat tightened unexpectedly, because for the first time in a very long time, it felt true.
You still had nightmares and flinches and habits that would take time to unlearn, but Levi wasn't waiting around every corner anymore. You weren't counting exits when you entered a room. Your friends weren't looking over their shoulders every time they left work.
The future had started existing again.
You leaned your shoulder against Spencer's. "Yeah," you said softly. "We are."
His fingers found yours.
Across the room, Courtney suddenly pointed at the two of you. "Ew."
Every head turned. You groaned immediately. "Oh, come on."
"They're having a moment," Courtney announced. "They're always having a moment," Shayne replied. "That's because they're in love."
"Courtney."
"What?"
The apartment erupted into laughter. Somehow in the night, youâd managed to sneak off when Spencer guided you to the balcony and up the fire escape. Laden with a blanket and a bag of stolen snacks and take-out, you both settled with your legs dangling over the roof. You could hear the music and laughter from the apartment through the open balcony door, mingling with the city sounds of cars and twittering birds.
The rooftop is quiet.
For once in your shared history, the air doesnât smell like blood, adrenaline, or rubber on asphalt. It smells like takeout curry and the faint citrus of Spencerâs shampoo. You sit together on the blanket he broughtâ soft, worn, definitely stolen from Shayneâs reddit stash at workâ and watch the city lights flicker as the last of sunset fades.
Since climbing out onto the roof, youâve noticed Spencer seems more subdued, twitchy. Bumping your shoulder against his, your eyes meet. âWhatâs up?â
Running a hand over his face, Spencer breathes out a laugh. âUmâ nothing, really. I justââ He falters, looking down at the ground under your feet. You wait.
Spencer isn't usually at a loss for words. Even when he's nervous, he tends to talk through it, joke through it, bulldoze straight through it until he finds the thing he's actually trying to say. So when he trails off, staring at the street five stories below, your stomach flips. The sounds of the party drift through the open balcony door behind you. Courtney's laugh carries the farthest. Somewhere inside, Damien is loudly losing an argument.
Spencer rubs the back of his neck and laughs quietly. "Okay, this is stupid."
"Probably."
"Thank you for the support."
"Anytime."
He bumps your shoulder.
For another few seconds, neither of you speak. The city glows beneath you. Cars move through intersections. A dog barks somewhere in the distance.
Finally Spencer lets out a slow breath.
"I kept thinking you were going to die." The words hit harder than you expect. His eyes stay fixed on the horizon. "Not every day," he continues quietly. "Sometimes it was because of Levi. Sometimes it was because of the hospital stuff. Sometimes it was just..." He shrugs helplessly. "Everything."
You don't interrupt.
"There were days I'd leave work and think, 'Okay. Today was okay.' Then my phone would ring and my heart would stop." His fingers tighten around the soda can in his hand." I got really used to being scared."
The confession settles between you.
You reach over and take his free hand. Spencer immediately threads his fingers through yours.
"I know."
His laugh is soft. "Yeah." The rooftop falls quiet again. After a moment he glances at you. "I don't think I realized how bad it got until it stopped."
You nod slowly. "I keep waiting for something to happen."
"Me too."
"I keep checking doors."
"Me too."
"I still hate notifications."
"Absolutely, me too." That finally earns a real smile from him. "There she is." You roll your eyes. "Shut up."
"Nope."
He squeezes your hand. Then his expression softens again. "You know what the weirdest part is?"
"What?"
"I caught myself looking at apartments."
You blink. "Apartments?"
"Different ones. Houses, maybe." Now you're staring. Spencer groans immediately. "Not because I don't like ours."
"Spencer."
"Stop making that face."
"What face?"
"The face that says you're overthinking."
"I learned from the best."
"That's hurtful."
You laugh. He smiles despite himself. "What I mean," he says, "is that I caught myself thinking about the next few years." The laughter fades. "Oh."
"Yeah."
His thumb brushes over your knuckles. "For months it felt impossible to think further ahead than a week." You look down at your joined hands. "And now?"
Spencer follows your gaze. "Now I keep accidentally thinking about the future."
Your heart skips.
The future, the thing you'd spent so long avoiding. The thing you'd only just started allowing yourself to imagine.
You think about Shayne and Courtney. About Alex carrying groceries into your apartment like a man on a mission. About Angela and Trevor arguing over movies. About Ian threatening suspension because he cared. About Peanut asleep on your couch downstairs. About waking up this morning.
About tomorrow.
About next month.
About next year.
You squeeze Spencer's hand. "What kind of future?" A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth. "The kind where we buy enough groceries for the cat."
You snort. "Spencer."
"The kind where nobody gets stabbed at Waffle House."
"Spencer."
"The kind whereâ"
You shove his shoulder. He laughs, a real laugh this time. The kind you haven't heard enough lately. Then he sobers slightly. "The kind where you're still there."
Your chest aches.
Spencer looks down at your joined hands. Then at you. "I don't really care what it looks like," he admits. "I just know I want you in it."
The city seems to disappear for a moment. Just you and him on a rooftop beneath a darkening sky. You lean over and rest your forehead against his shoulder. For a second, neither of you say anything. Then Spencer presses a kiss against your hair.
Finally, he sets down his drink and reaches into his pocket.
Your heart flips.
âOkay,â he says exhaling. âSo. Last time we had a vague proposal moment, it was⌠not great.â
âA car chase?â you say. âBloody noses? A concussion?â
âYeah,â he says softly. âI donât want that to be our story.â
He pulls out something small.
A little plush mood octopus keychain. A new one. Brand new, clean, blue, with a tiny ribbon tied around one tentacle. Your throat tightens. Spencerâs voice drops to a whisper. âFor months Iâve⌠wanted to ask. But I kept telling myself I should wait until things were calm. Until you were safe. Until I stopped being an ass about things instead of just keeping you safe.â
You laugh wetly. He squeezes your hand. âBut that night, at the hospital⌠I thought I might lose you. That I could have died all because I ran after him and didnât stay with you instead. And I realised I didnât care about waiting for the perfect moment. I just cared about getting to have a moment at all. With you.â
He unties the ribbon. A ring slips into his shaking hand. Spencer looks up at you, eyes shining, cheeks flushed.
âNo chaos this time. Just me, asking you, for real.â A breath. âMarry me?â
Your heart, your lungs, your whole body answer at once. âYes.â Spencer makes a soundâ half laugh, half sobâ and pulls you into his arms so tightly you lose air but donât care. âWe canâ we donât have to any time soon, but I needed to ask you. Iâve had this ring for way longer than Iâm going to admit, because I knew it was you, even with everything weâve been through.â
Spencer is still holding the ring, still looking at you like he can't quite believe you said yes. Your hands come up to cup his face. "Of course I said yes, you idiot." A watery laugh escapes him. "Okay, good."
"Good?"
"Yeah."
You stare. "Spencer."
"I had a backup speech."
"You had a backup speech?"
"In case you started crying before I finished."
"I am crying."
"Exactly."
You laugh despite yourself, swiping at your eyes. He looks so relieved, like he's been carrying this for months and finally got to set it down. Your gaze drops to the ring still sitting in his palm.
It isn't enormous or flashy. It's beautiful. Simple. Very Spencer. His hands are still shaking when he slides it onto your finger. The fit is perfect. You narrow your eyes immediately. "You already knew my ring size."
Spencer winces. "Maybe."
"Spence."
"It was for planning purposes."
"You planned this."
"I literally proposed."
"No, I mean planned planned."
His face goes red. That alone answers the question. "Oh my God." He drops his forehead onto your shoulder. "Don't make fun of me."
"You had my ring size."
"I've had your ring size for, like, a year."
You let out an incredulous laugh. "A year?"
"In my defense, I wasn't actively planning on proposing a year ago."
"That is not a defense."
"It is from where I'm sitting."
"It absolutely isn't."
He's laughing now too. The nervous energy finally bleeding away. You glance down at the ring again.
A year.
All this time. All those months when the world was falling apart. All those nights spent in hospital rooms and police stations and courtrooms. And somehow he'd still known.
Your chest tightens. "You really knew?" The question comes out quieter than you intended.
Spencer's smile softens. "Yeah,â he says with no hesitation. The answer settles somewhere deep inside you, because you've spent so long being uncertain about everything. About safety. About tomorrow.
You lean forward and kiss him. His hand finds your cheek instantly. When you pull back, he's smiling again. The kind of smile he usually saves for moments nobody else sees. "I love you."
The words are simple. You've heard them before, said them before, but tonight they feel different, like they're stretching forward instead of just existing in the present. "I love you too."
His eyes drop to the ring then, still wet and teary, then back to you. A grin spreads across his face. "Oh."
"What?"
"We get to tell Courtney." You immediately burst out laughing. Somewhere below you, Courtney wasnât prepared for what they were about to learn from you two. You just hoped there wouldnât be any noise complaints over it.
Pulling you into his arms again, Spencer kissed your temple. Humming quietly, you recognised the tune of Hold My Girl, and you closed your eyes, leaning into him and letting the off-key song fill your heart.
The city hums around you. Somewhere far below, a car horn blares. A dog barks. Someone curses. Chanseâs laugh bellows from the apartment, followed closely by Shayne and Tommyâs. Real life keeps moving.
But here, on this rooftop, you and Spencer hold still long enough to kiss, to breathe, to promise each other every quiet tomorrow neither of you thought youâd get.
and if i say i'm sobbing? this series started as a passion project when my long-term boyfriend left me, just to distract myself and put my energy into something besides wallowing in my breakup. i could never have imagined it would be a three-part series, my longest yet, and my favourite series to date. it's been nearly nine months since i started this series, which sounds insane, but passion and hyperfixation will make you do insane things, i suppose. i'm so grateful for all of you for sticking it out and staying til the end, i could never have asked for a better community. not to be dramatic or anything, but you guys saved my life a little bit. i think about you guys all the time. 409k words later, and this is it. i've done so much in nine months, and this story is proof of that. i'm still here, and i'm so grateful to be here with you all.
i hope you're all happy with the final installation of the Hold My Girl series.
Iâm delighted to post this little fanart for @malmusesâ wonderful Pride fic, âIn Your Own Time.â Not only is it exceptionally well-written as usual, itâs sweet and more complex than your average Pride fic. Iâm just grateful Mal lets me intrude on her work all the time :D
Thereâs a lot of negativity in the world right now, and I hope that you guys have a happy and safe Pride nonetheless. You are loved.Â
(Please donât repost, and if you liked our work, feel free to tip me or Mal :D)Â
