Resumen: Spencer va a que le corten el pelo y se queda fascinado con su peluquera.
Advertencias: no tengo la menor idea de como cortar pelo así que seguramente esté descrito para el tuje. Spencer es el más tierno del mundo en este shot. Y vayan a mirar el video de "deseo perder" de Milo J
Genero: fluff
Conteo de palabras: 802 (short n sweet)
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Spencer Reid siempre tuvo algo que decir, siempre tuvo palabras elegantes y rimbombantes que impresionaban a quien sea con quien esté hablando en ese momento; era algo que lo enorgullecía.
Era. Porque ahora, sentado en lo que debe ser la silla más incómoda del mundo mirandote a través del espejo no puede forzarse a sí mismo a formar palabras.
Justo cuando piensa que no puede volverse peor pasas la capa de cortar sobre él y se la acomodas; tus dedos rozan su cuello mientras la atas, el traga en seco y siente cómo sus pulmones se vuelven inútiles.
“Entonces, ¿sabes que te harás, cariño?” Dices mientras masticas una goma de mascar rosa. Spencer piensa que debería sentirse incómodo con eso, quizá hasta asqueado, pero no puede concentrarse en otra cosa que no sean tus labios, están brillantes. Eso es labial, ¿verdad?
Finalmente encuentra la forma de mirar a otro lado que no sea tus resplandecientes labios y te contesta.
“Ah, eh…” Spencer traga saliva y intenta formar una sonrisa. “Solo… uh, solo las puntas, por favor.”
“De acuerdo, ¿cuánto exactamente?” Preguntas, girandote para agarrar un par de tijeras para pelo y un peine.
“Em, quizás los hombros.” Es casi una pregunta, instantáneamente se arrepiente de cuan débil su voz suena.
“Okey.” Sonríes y comienzas a desenredar su cabello, pasando suavemente tus uñas acrílicas por el mismo. “Así que, por… ¿Aquí?” preguntás, apuntando su cabello justo por encima de su hombro.
Spencer asiente, conteniendo la respiración. Tu sueltas un soplido de aire que se acerca a una risa.
“¿Cuál es tu nombre, cariño?”
“S-Spencer.”
“Spencer…” Lo dices como si estuvieras saboreando el nombre en tu boca, mezclandolo con la goma de mascar sabor frambuesa. “Eres un hombre de pocas palabras, ¿no es así, Spencer?” Dices desenredando su cabello con el peine.
Él suelta una risita nerviosa y sacude la cabeza lo más suavemente que puede.
“Sí, lo lamento. No soy muy bueno con las interacciones sociales.” Suelta. Y estuvo a punto de insultarse mentalmente cuando oyó una risa angelical salir de tu boca y algo se removió en su interior y en ese gran cerebro que tiene él.
Casi inmediatamente empieza a reproducir y recordar cada chiste que alguna vez haya escuchado, esperando que ese sonido angelical se repita.
“Si, me doy cuenta.” Dices cortando el primer mechón de pelo. “Sabes, tienes lindas ondas en el cabello, te verías realmente increíble con un corte tipo shag, o algo así.”
“G-Gracias…” Dice, nervioso. No puede creer que acabas de darle un cumplido. Necesita cambiar de tema, rápido, antes de colapsar. “¿S-Sabías que en la época Victoriana la gente solía coleccionar pedazos de pelo de sus seres queridos para convertirlos en joyería?” Dice sin pausa para respirar. “Así que técnicamente, este corte podría valer como un brazalete de la amistad.” Dice, girando un poco su cabeza para ver tu cara.
“Bueno, nada dice “mejores amigos para siempre” más que un collar hecho de puntas abiertas, ¿no?” Te ríes suavemente mientras lo agarras por la barbilla para regresar su cabeza a su posición anterior. “Quédate quieto…” Las tijeras cortan una vez más.
“Ah, sí, lo siento…” dice, sonriendo nerviosamente. Inmediatamente hace lo que le dices, se enfoca tanto en quedarse quieto, tan quieto que, por un momento se olvida de respirar.
“¿Sabes que puedes respirar, verdad?"
“Yo- sí, yo solo,” empieza, moviendo su cabeza un poquitito y…
“Quieto…” Dices, sosteniendo su cabeza para mantenerlo quieto. “Alguna vez has probado otro estilo?”
“Um, si, de hecho solía usar el pelo más corto y lo peinaba con gel.”
“Oh, dios…” Haces una cara de disgusto. “Eso suena como un peinado de el nerd de una película adolescente.”
Spencer hace una mueca y deja salir una pequeña risa. “La verdad que yo era, bueno, soy un nerd.”
“Pero ahora me tienes a mi para prevenir futuros actos de terrorismo contra tu cabello.” Dices y Spencer sonríe. Me tienes a mí. Repitiéndose en su cabeza.
“Sí, supongo.”
Cuándo se quiere dar cuenta ya has terminado, tus dedos de nuevo en su cuello y estás sacando la capa de él.
“¿Y? ¿Qué opinas?” Preguntas, mirándolo a través del espejo. “¿Te gusta?”
“Si, claro, está estupendo.” Pero sus ojos están más ocupados viéndote guardar tus tijeras en un estuche que en su cabello. “¿Cuánto es?”
“Siete, pero espera…” Spencer te mira, curioso. “Prométeme que la próxima te harás ese corte shag.”
Normalmente diría que no, sería cobarde y se arrepentiría para siempre de haber dicho no, y debería hacer eso, lo que hace normalmente. Pero él no puede ser normal cerca tuyo.
“Yo… Claro, lo intentaré, pero solo si tú lo cortas.”
“¡Genial!” chillas.
“Toma, puedes quedarte con el cambio.” Dice dándote diez dólares. “Ten un lindo día.”
@sketchy-yy: Heyy, I saw your request list and was wondering if I could I request a Ziggy Berman x F!Reader where Y/N has been dealing with some homophobia at the camp and Ziggy comforts her and Y/N ends up confessing and bOOm they kiss or something idk it's all up to you lol
TW: Active homophobia, violence
It was a particularly hard day for Y/N, given that Sheila just wouldn't leave her alone. But on the horizon, here comes her knight in shining armour: Ziggy Berman.
Shadyside was hell, and had always been hell. Y/N wouldn't say had the worst luck around only because the entire town had just the worst luck. But somehow, being at camp was even worse. Yes, she was used to being called names because of who she loved. But there was a difference between being ostracized in Shadyside and being ostracized by fucking Sunnyvalers.
Sheila, specifically, had made it a habit to torment her on the daily. Her being a pain in the ass had become a common experience for most Shadysiders, though the nonconforming ones really had no moments of rest in that shitty camp.
Truthfully, Y/N didn't even want to come to the camp in the first place. She was just pushed to come by her parents who needed some "alone time". She almost told them she could just go stay wherever for a month instead of this, but considering the string of bad luck, they needed the vacation more than her.
She had regretted it now, though. She should have just lied that she was at the camp while staying at a friend's house.
Her biggest mistake, today had been to go to a part of the camp not frequently visited for some peace and quiet. She couldn't win, really. In public spaces with a lot of people, there were more people to make fun of her, but in places she could be alone, it was easier to do whatever without anyone hearing.
Y/N had been just taking a breath when she heard the steps behind her, but she didn't turn around. They were far away enough that she could probably get away with it, and giving whoever it was attention would just add fuel to the fire.
"Hey! You dyke!" She heard Sheila's voice screaming, followed by the impact of a tomato hitting her shoulder. Where did Sheila get a tomato? Another Shadyside mystery.
By this point, Y/N had gotten used to that. It happened a lot in Shadyside too. The name-calling, the gratuitous violence, occasionally some mean-spirited pranks sprinkled here and there. Her mom had warned her against coming out publicly, and that it would have consequences. But in all their callousness and hopelessness, there was kindness and empathy in Shadyside. There were limits to how far this kind of thing would go.
"I'm talking to you!" Another tomato hit her shoulder as Sheila's voice got angrier. There was nothing she hated more than being ignored.
Sheila, however, was a wild card. Most of the Sunnyvallers, really. Most of them had never seen pain and suffering, and knew their rich daddies could clean their records if they went too far. They got to be "just children" on the backs of Shadysiders. And those coddled bitches had no limits.
"Whatever, you lesbo!"
This time, something harder hit her shoulder. Y/N stumbled forward as she felt a sharp pain from the rock that had hit her just then. She breathed harder, taking in what had just happened. A rock. A fucking rock. Sheila's gang's annoying laughs added insult to injury. She slowly put her hand on her shoulder to feel the blood coming out.
That was it. Sheila wouldn't get away with it this time. She made a sharp turn towards the girl and ran into her with full force, knowing very well that this was a lost battle but not completely registering it. Y/N just launched her body against the other's, tackling her to the ground and beginning to punch, slap, scratch, and pull hair. Whatever hurt the most.
"You bitch! You fucking bitch!" Before she could even get a good punch-fest going, her minions were grabbing her arms and pulling her away from Sheila. Fuck. She shouldn't have done this.
Now that she was essentially immobilized and at Sheila's mercy, her heart felt as if she was on a marathon. She looked up at the girl, who had gotten up. She looked angry. Oh no.
"You psycho!" She kicked Y/N's stomach, taking away every single amount of air that she had in her body. "Isn't being a fucking dyke not enough to you?!" She punched her in the face this time. Y/N could tell she was genuinely angry. It wasn't just a joke or random cruelty this time. "Fucking Shadysiders! Are you possessed by the witch too?"
Sheila was preparing for another blow when a rock hit her. It was somewhat satisfying to see her be the target this time. It hit her in the forehead, which would have been tragic and worrying had it not been funny. It wasn't like the rock was big or heavy, though, so most likely it had just hurt like shit.
"Hey, Sheila! Don't you get tired of being a fucking bitch?!"
She heard Ziggy's voice before she saw her. She looked so cool, like a knight in shining armor. The distraction had shaken everyone up, and Y/N could feel that the hands around her had loosened a lot as the girls' bodies went towards Sheila to check if she was hurt.
Now was her time to shine.
Pulling herself up and away from the girls with all her strength, Y/N launched herself into a sprint for her life. Ziggy did the same, to the other reaction. It was a good plan: Sheila was confused by the rock and by not knowing who to run after, and also too lost in her own anger to really react.
***
Later that night, after dinner, when everyone was going to sleep, Ziggy and Y/N found themselves in each other's company again. Sleeplessness had hit both of them, and somehow, both had had the idea to hide near the Sarah Fier tree. Very few people went there late at night, and when they did, they generally ran out crying the moment a small sound escaped the woods.
Y/N had gotten there first, and was just sitting with her back against the tree, playing with her hands and staring at the night sky. Ziggy got there a little later, and their somewhat surprised looks mirrored each other.
"Nice to see you here." Said Ziggy, sitting down beside Y/N.
"Thank you. For earlier."
"It's fine." She looked everywhere but Y/N's face as she said it, which kind of hurt a little bit. "Don't read too much into it."
"You helping me?" Again, another little sting in her heart.
"No, Sheila. She's just... Like that, you know. With everyone." She puffed. "I guess what I'm trying to say is, don't feel bad about the gay thing just because she's picking on you. She picks on everybody."
"The gay thing." Y/N chuckled. "I guess I know that. Sometimes I just regret ever telling anyone."
"You shouldn't." Ziggy grabbed her hand, finally looking Y/N in the eyes with a smile. "It was brave, you know. I like brave. Brave is good. Especially around Shadyside."
Y/N heart fluttered, and that was the exact moment she decided to make a mistake. Well, not exactly decided. It was more like her mouth was a faucet that she couldn't close.
"I like you." Now that it was out, she panicked. What should she do? Double down? Back down? Finish the sentence with as a friend? Endless possibilities, so little time to decide.
Ziggy laughed, which short-circuited her brain even more. What if she made fun of her? What if she thought Y/N only ever had spent time with her because she had a romantic interest in her? What if she changed her mind and decided she regretted helping her? What if -
"You look cute when you panic."
"Hm?" Her voice came out with a sense of urgency. "I'm not panicking." She laughed again, this time a lot more than a chuckle.
"I promise I won't let her hurt you again." Ziggy said. Why did she always have to sound so cool? "You're too cute for that."
Y/N's cheeks got flushed almost immediately, but not from embarrassment. At least not just because of it. Maybe she was actually possessed by something, because she actually kissed Ziggy's lips. They tasted like the berries that grew near the camp, mixed with the taste of adrenaline of her stupid decision.
But to her surprise, Ziggy actually kissed back, her hands rushing to cup Y/N's face and get tangled on her hair. Realizing, very confused, that this kiss was actually happening, Y/N's hands slowly reached for Ziggy's waist, just barely grazing it as she got lost in the sensations.
As their lips parted, Ziggy's forehead rested against Y/N's. They opened their eyes hesitantly, and Ziggy hooked her pinky finger on Y/N's.
"Just stay with me and I'll keep you safe." Ziggy said, out of breath.
I'd like to thank @agirlcallednarelle for betaing this fic and for the title, thank you so much loaf ❤️
1.5k | @today-in-fic | @xffictober2021 | ao3
As someone who actually is dyslexic, some of the narrative here is inspired by my own experience. That is not to say that other people have not experienced the same things. Each individual person who has dyslexia or any other form of neurodivergence experience things in their own way.
Thump.
Thump.
Thump.
Her heart races. She feels it in her ears, in her fingertips. In her toes and in her throat. In her chest.
Dear Professor,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I’m writing to
Stop. It’s not worth it. It’s not real. Her mind races. The dean must’ve been right after all. Maybe they were right. Maybe university isn’t the place for someone with a disability. Maybe she doesn’t even have a disability at all. She can read. It’s hard, very hard, but she can read a text. She can write. Maybe her teacher made it up.
Maybe she doesn’t have a disability. Maybe it isn’t real. People seem to think that someone with a disability can’t go into physics. Can’t go into medicine.
Medicine is for the smart people, worthy people. Not for stupid people with dyslexia. She has been told that she is lazy and unintelligent her entire life. Maybe it is true. Maybe they are right. Maybe they are all right.
Maybe the speech therapists were wrong. It is rare after all. Not that many people have dyslexia. They probably just made a mistake when they were screening her. Mistook her unintelligence for a disability. Dana is positive that it happens more than people may think. Even some of her teachers said that dyslexia does not exist. That it is just another excuse to categorise students.
And if she does have dyslexia? Well… it is not debilitating. She can read. She can write. It is not real.
But it is. It is real and it is debilitating. Even if Dana refuses to see it that way. She writes, she spells the words out letter by letter like she was taught and yet, so many mistakes. So much laughter from her peers. When she reads, the world speeds up, her cheeks grow hot and her tongue swells. She sees the word right but she says it wrong and she cannot control it. Her face grows hotter as her peers laugh even more. She wills herself to forget, even if all the memories stay with her.
I am writing to ask for your generosity in allowing me to either have extra time or to be allowed to take my exam in a separate room. My diagnosis for dyslexia
Stop.
Blurry vision.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her heart races. Again. Her hand shakes. Her head swims as she remembers previous encounters. More previous encounters with her teachers and peers. Previous encounters that she had thought forgotten but haunt her persistently.
Her classmate scoffing. “Do you really think someone who can’t read can study medicine? You’re deluded Dana. That or you’re faking it.”
Her professor’s nonchalance. “Miss Scully if you really do need these accommodations, I really believe that university is not the place for you. Maybe you should try something a little less demanding. Maybe working in a café or fast food could suit you better.”
Another professor. “Dana, we really can’t be sure that you still have this problem. I’m sorry, I can’t help you.”
A teacher in middle school. “Dana just concentrate for Pete’s sake. The word is right there. The letters are right there. You have no excuses. Spelling it wrong when you’re copying it is unacceptable. Maybe this level is too high for you.”
The memories are overwhelming. Everywhere she looks, students’ chattering feels like every head turns her way. Like everyone is talking, like they used to. She puts her head down. Maybe she does not need extra time or leniency with spelling or to take her exam in a separate room. Is she just being whiny? Does she expect special treatment that she does not deserve? Writing a word with a couple of inverted or missing letters does not mean that she is disabled. Taking a bit longer to read a sentence does not mean that she is disabled.
She puts her pen down and bites into her fingers. Hard enough to make marks – hard enough to be painful – but not hard enough to draw blood. Not hard enough to leave evidence of her struggle. No one is to know of this.
She hears footsteps so the stomp. stomp. stomping. getting progressively louder overwhelms her. The collective stomping and chattering become the only things she hears until –
She inhales. Holds. Exhales. Footsteps. She feels hers as they get progressively closer. Ellen walks into the cafeteria, towards her table and sits next to Dana. She puts a hand on the back of her chair and looks at Dana’s unfinished letter.
“Hey.” Her voice is soft and comforting and everything Dana wants but does not think she needs. Ellen is truly the only person she can trust. The only person who will respect her, not question her. Who will offer her support. Her light at the end of the tunnel, however long it may be.
Perhaps she really is just unintelligent and undeserving of her place in this institution. Undeserving of the help she is asking for and undeserving for her chance to even attempt to study physics or medicine or whatever the hell she wants to study. Undeserving of –
Dana feels Ellen’s hand touch her arm comfortingly and Dana’s racing heart calms a fraction before Ellen understands what is going on. She gulps and looks away. Looks at the floor. At her feet. Ellen gently takes Dana’s hands into her own and rubs her fingers up and down her wrists. Dana exhales and looks into Ellen’s eyes, shameful, unshed tears lining her burning eyes.
It's just an insecurity, she tells herself. It’s just an insecurity. It is, isn’t it?
“I just—I don’t really outwardly have that much trouble reading. Do I really need this?” Dana’s voice shakes. Imperceptibly. Imperceptibly for everyone but Ellen. “God I—I read for fun I–”
“Dana.” Ellen takes a deep breath and guides Dana’s chin upwards, making sure she’s looking her in the eye. “Dana, you’ve been reading for thirteen years. You’ve had thirteen years of constant practice.” Ellen keeps rubbing her thumb across Dana’s wrist comfortingly. “No one is going to notice your struggle but it does not mean that it isn’t there. Just because people can’t see how hard it is for you, it doesn’t mean that it’s easy. Far from it. Just because you work three times as hard as everyone else, doesn’t mean that you deserve to be kicked down and kept down. You deserve the same chances that everyone else gets.”
It is strange, having someone understand. A good strange. The kind of strange that makes Dana want to grin and hug Ellen forever. It feels wonderfully strange. Dana will never not be grateful to have a friend as amazing as Ellen in her life.
Dana clears her throat and sniffs. She pulls her hands from Ellen’s and faces her desk again. “You’re right.”
She picks up her pen and carries on, pressing the pen so hard against the paper that it leaves marks on the five sheets beneath it.
Dear Professor,
I hope this letter finds you well.
I’m writing to ask for your generosity in allowing me to either have extra time or to be allowed to take my exam in a separate room. My diagnosis for dyslexia and a recommendation for accommodations that the disability requires are stapled to this letter.
I am conscious that this is a big ask and will understand if it is not a possibility.
I hope that the documents are satisfying.
Kind regards,
Dana Scully
When she finishes writing, her brain feels fried. Like it has been working overtime for seventy two hours. In reality she has only been working on this particular draft for forty minutes. She can feel the figurative smoke coming out of her ears but she is finally finished.
She clears her throat again as the caps and drops the pen. She looks away, still believing that she does not deserve special treatment. Still believing that it really is not as bad as it feels. That she makes it out to be worse than it is.
“Could you look this over for me again, please? Just to make sure.” She takes a breath, trying to avoid feeling too guilty for asking this of her friend yet again. “It’s the last draft, I promise.”
“Of course, Dana, any time.”
Dana breathes a sigh of relief.
–
Ellen is an English major. Today – like every other day – Dana walks into their shared dorm and sees Ellen lying on her bed, head hanging off the end, reading. Not reading for fun, but reading for class. Every day, Dana sees Ellen with her nose buried in a fifty-page long binder of either academic articles or texts that she has to read for the following day.
There is a reason Dana is studying physics and not English. There is a reason that Dana, as a dyslexic college student, gravitated towards science rather than humanities.
Ellen hears Dana’s scuffling and turns onto her side, a warm smile on her face in greeting.
Prompt: “I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do.”
masterlist
kageyama x reader
There are very few things Kageyama knows for sure. He even made a list
He loves volleyball
You’re his best friend
He will play volleyball for the rest of his life.
He’ll be the best setter in all of Japan
Those were the 4 things Kageyama knew and understood for a fact. Until about a week ago when this appeared while mindlessly looking at it again.
5. I love y/n.
-Present-
Lately, things between you and Kageyama have been tense. Since winning the finals for the Miyagi prefecture Kageyama has been distant towards you. You didn’t know what it was. You two have been best friends for as long as you can remember, but for the first time in your friendship, he was acting cold. It wasn’t something you were used to.
Others may believe that he was always stone cold and a tyrant king towards everyone he faced, but when it came to you, he had a sense of humor (although dry) and was just a regular kid. Still very much of a headass though. You knew how to make him laugh and what buttons to push to annoy him. You two were both two peas in a pod.
Kageyama was different on the court, although you’ve never played on a team with him, you were never far from him. Whether you were helping him practice or cheering him on from the side.
So here you were, sitting in your room with tears in your eyes after Kageyama had snapped at you.
“Tobio, what’s wrong?”
You two were walking home after practice, you can tell he was tense, but you didn’t understand why. He got his yogurt and ate his lunch, he didn’t completely fail his algebra test… why is he so upset?
Now that you came to think of it, he had been acting snippy lately…
“Nothing.”
Everything
“Don’t be a dumbass, you’re a horrible liar and you know that.”
“Leave me alone.”
I want to tell you
“Mmmmm, how about no. You don’t have to tell me right now but that also means that you can’t be so ‘GRRR’ and-”
At this point, you arrived at your house, right across the street from his as he cut you off.
“God, you are so annoying y/n, no wonder why you have no friends.” His tone was harsh.
I don’t know how to keep a secret from you and I know that if I’m near you any longer than you’re gonna call me out and I won’t know how to tell you that I L-word you.
You went into a complete stop.
Kageyama is one to make jokes and roast you for things, but he was never the type to joke around things that you were sensitive about. He knew you had a hard time making friends with others. You had a hard time talking to people, he would never say that to hurt you.
“Tobio… I- why would you say that?”
“Because it’s true and I’m so tired of hanging out with you.”
That’s a lie, he thought. I love spending time with you. You’re the only one in my life that makes me feel infinite. When I’m with you, time stands still and it feels like nothing else matters.
Tears were brimming your eyes as your childhood best friend and (maybe) crush was breaking your heart.
“You’re being a real asshole right now, Kageyama.”
Kageyama knew right away that he had struck a nerve. He was never Kageyama to you, always Tobio, Kags, Boke, dummy, literally anything but Kageyama. The last time you called him Kageyama was two summers ago when you were both in his backyard for his family barbeque and you were wearing your brand new sneakers that he KNEW you were excited to wear. Suddenly his volleyball was heading towards you and your plate of food. You hadn’t moved in time and the ball hit your plate and the food splattered on your shoes, ruining them. From that day on, Kageyama promised to always control the ball.
Kageyama says nothing and turns to head inside his home, leaving you in the dark.
- One week later -
You were sick of this. You were sick of the distance between the two of you. In the mornings, you would purposefully sleep in so that you didn’t have to walk with Kageyama to morning practice. You spent lunch with Tsukki and Yamaguchi, knowing that Kageyama would do just about anything to limit his interactions with the four-eyed blondie.
Everyone on the team noticed the rift between you two. You had asked Kiyoko if she would let you handle the paperwork since it didn’t require you to be in the gym.
Meanwhile, the team had missed your rowdiness and constant encouragement.
“NOYA, THAT WAS AMAZING! DO THE ROLLING THUNDER AGAIN”
*Tanaka pouts* “Why doesn’t she ever compliment me?”
“Maybe because you suck.”
“DAMN ASAHI, THAT WAS YOUR THIRD SERVICE ACE TODAY! KEEP SERVING LIKE THAT AND YOU MIGHT STEAL A GIRLS HEART.”
“Uh- I- uh thank you” *Asahi blushing is adorable*
“TSUKKI, I KNOW YOU CAN JUMP HIGHER THAN THAT. AT LEAST TRY AND BLOCK HINATA IT MAKES HIM FEEL BETTER.”
“HEY-”
“If you keep yelling at me, I’m not gonna help you with the chem homework.”
*you shut up because CHEM IS HARD AND YOU WON’T PASS WITHOUT TSUKKI’S HELP*
“Hinata... “
“Yeah?”
“THAT WAS TOTALLY AWESOME, YOU NAILED THAT SPIKE IT WAS LIKE ‘WHOOSH’ AND ‘KAPOW’. I GOTTA TEXT BOKUTO AND TELL HIM.”
*instant gushing*
“Kageyama I don’t have any words to tell you other than you still owe me yogurt because Hinata picked up more balls than you.
“THAT WAS ONLY BECAUSE HE GOT A HEAD START.”
“NU-UH, I BEAT YOU FAIR AND SQUARE.”
“HINATA SHUT UP, YOU’RE SUCH A MORON.”
Of course, Daichi adds, “Suga owes me ramen because I bet that all the insults you use today would consist of ‘moron’ and he thought that you’d have expanded your vocab by now.”
“DAICHI CMON.”
All in all, they missed your presence. Even Takeda and Coach Ukai felt that the gym was missing something. Nothing was wrong with Kiyoko, she has been the manager longest, she was just on the more quiet side, but since you joined, you took over handling things in the gym while she did more of the technical stuff.
“Hey Grumpyama, why haven’t you and Y/N been walking together?”
“None of your business, moron.”
“HEY I’M JUST CONCERNED, WHY DO YOU ALWAYS HAVE TO BE SO MEAN TO ME.’’
Suga decided to intervene and say that you wanted to sleep more. He knew what happened. You called him the night that Kageyama snapped at you because out of all the third years, he knew how to deal with Kageyama the most.
And because you two share the same brain cells, Kageyama had also told Suga what happened, with frustration and sadness evident in his voice.
“I don’t know what to do. I didn’t mean to hurt her, but I just knew that if I looked at her, the truth would just come out.”
“Is that such a bad thing?”
“She’s my best friend. I don’t wanna lose her just because she doesn’t like me back.”
Suga eventually consoled Kageyama, assuring him that he wouldn't lose you over this, but over hurting you and avoiding you. He told Kageyama to talk it out with you, knowing that you’d understand.
So here you were, sitting on your best friend's bed, watching him pace back and forth while struggling to find words.
“What is it Tobio?’’ The softness of your voice was making it hard for Kageyama to concentrate. How could you be so soft and kind after what he said to you?
“I don’t know what I did, but if you tell me I can try and fix it…” You added gently.
You knew that he had a hard time expressing his feelings and that the best thing to do is to have patience and let him gather his thoughts. What you didn’t understand was why he was so nervous.
“I think I’m in love with you and I don’t know what to do. Okay?”
Silence. Everything stood still at that moment.
“Wha- what do you mean?”
“I think you know what I mean y/n... you- you’ve always been better with these... things... with emotions and stuff.”
Kageyama stuttered for a second, always such a mess when it came to words but continued. “I just- I love you, and not in the way that you’re supposed to love your best friend. I asked Daichi and Suga what I was feeling... how when you smile, it puts the sun to shame. An- and how when you spend the night at my house and you fall asleep on my bed. God, I’d give up my bed and sleep on the floor for the rest of my life if it meant that you’d be the first thing I saw in the morning. I told them that when you laugh it feels like nothing else matters and that all the bad in the world just disappears.”
Tears were streaming down your face at this point while you walked towards him.
You enveloped the very tall boy in your arms. He was shocked, why were you hugging him?
“You are such a dumbass, Tobio.”
“WHAT- WHAT DID I DO?”
“I’ve loved you since the day you ruined my favorite shoes and cried because I was mad at you.”
“You… you what.”
“I… love… you.” You said as you looked up and basically spelled it out for him with tears threatening to spill from your eyes.
“I- uh- well- I also um- I also feel the same way.” Kageyama struggled to say as he was literally as red as a tomato.
“Mhm… so you decided that being an asshole was your way outta this. Sorry to tell you bub, but I’m with you for the long haul. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”
*Kageyama was literally not working at this point. His brain has exploded*
So he did what he knew his words couldn’t express and kissed you slowly, to let you know that he was sorry and that he wasn’t going anywhere either.
How is Jack handling the royal life since he’s Eva’s father and all?
Jack Frost is not meant to be cooped up in a castle
That being said, Arrendale is literally made for him, he never really loved any time of the year when it wasn’t cold but he’s the first to admit that summers in Arrendale are pretty nice
Plus if he’s ever craving snow he can just go up to the mountains
He loves Elsa, that much was evident the moment anybody laid eyes on the pair of them, but Elsa was skeptical when Jack Frost of all people proposed marriage
He did so for one reason and one reason only: he loved her more than anything he ever had before
Elsa accepted for three reasons:
1) There were people who didn’t think it was proper for Jack to be living with the queen and not be engaged to be married at the very least
2) Speaking of, Elsa had no intention of joining the self-proclaimed King Adam’s coalition of kingdoms but Arrendale was to close to what they were calling Auradon to just do as they pleased and so they compromised, Arrendale’s freedom as long as she showed them a sign of solidarity. They had heard of Jack’s proposal and by marrying him she’d show that Arrendale wasn’t that unlike the other kingdoms
3) She genuinely, wholeheartedly, absolutely loved Jack Frost
Their wedding was a sight to behold (she very begrudgingly invited King Adam)
All of that being said, Jack absolutely hated the politics of it all and honestly, Elsa was secretly glad he wasn’t involved in it. She was great at what she did and Jack, being the guardian of mischief, would do more harm than good
All of their traditions though, he adores
His favorite is the ringing of the Jule Bell for obvious reasons but surprisingly the spring festival is a close second
He and Kristoff leave all the ruling to Elsa and Anna, the two of them are so much better at it than they could ever hope to be and they’re the first ones to say so
The pair are a lot alike in the sense that they’ve never really stayed in one place for long before
When things start getting a little too real they both more often than not escape to the ice castle in the north mountain, it happens when it’s their turn to host delegation meetings, when they’re getting stuck in a routine, or even in the rare occasions that they fight with their significant others
After Eva is born Kristoff notices that Jack is nowhere to be found, Elsa, Anna, and Olaf were coddling the newborn baby and he slips out knowing exactly where to look
He finds him up in the ice palace with bloodshot eyes, “Was the almighty Jack Frost really crying?” “Shut up,” Jack laughs and looks up with a disbelieving look on his face, “I made a person” “Well technically speaking-” He just manages to duck out of the way of the snowball Jack threw while laughing
Shockingly enough, Jack starts getting the slightest bit more involved in the political aspects solely because Eva develops a habit of asking for his advice on what to do, especially as it gets nearer to her own coronation
It’s not much but he always knows what’s going on and who’s involved, every now and then he’ll get curious and do his own snooping around but according to Elsa it’s “not diplomatic”
I would love for you to write some soft sick fic. Andrew or Neil has a fever and the other takes care of them. The cats are present. Fever is contagious and so the other one has to return the favor later but they're still recovering so it's mostly just cuddling.
Thank you and I hope you like this!
(ao3)
It all started after Neil decided that it would be an excellent idea to go running on a particularly cold November morning.And the fact that it started pouring mid-way through his usual route didn’t mean he was going to stop, oh no.He could deal with a little bit of rain, he was going to be fine (or so he thought).
He arrived home soaked from the rain and sweat and promptly took a hot shower.Afterwards, he found Andrew nursing a cup of coffee in the kitchen, Sir and King at his feet.
“‘Morning.” Neil said, hugging Andrew from behind.They didn’t have to ask ‘Yes or no?’ all the time anymore and touches like this were always welcome unless one of them was having a bad day.
Andrew swatted him away, a look of fake annoyance on his face as he turned to look at Neil.
“You ran in that rain.” he stated.
When Neil merely shrugged as if to say: ‘So what?’, Andrew scoffed in what was real annoyance this time.
“I’m not taking care of your stupid ass when you eventually catch a cold.”
“I’m fine.” This earned him a glare before Andrew moved past him, on his way the living room.The cats took to rubbing at Neil’s feet as he fixed himself some breakfast.
~
The next morning, Neil woke up with a fever and his head throbbing with pain.Overall, it was quite bad.He wasn’t going to tell Andrew though, he was going to feel better in no time at all.He took an aspirin and, despite the little bit of common sense that he had telling him to take a day off to rest, he went to practice.
If Andrew noticed anything wrong with Neil, he didn’t comment on it.Only two days later, when he found Neil passed out in the bathroom did he start to worry.
~
“I told you you were going to catch a cold.” Andrew told a half conscious Neil.
Neil rolled in his bed, trying to shut out the noise.Andrew brought him a damp cloth and a glass of water and he wasn’t leaving until Neil drank the water, even if he had to pour it down his throat along with an aspirin.So he pulled the covers away and told a less than willing Neil to sit up straight.Neil groaned and mumbled something unintelligible, but he still did what he was told.
After giving him the water and placing the damp cloth on his forehead, Andrew told his idiot to rest while he was going to make him soup.He didn’t say the last part aloud, but he didn’t want to catch the cold as well, so the sooner Neil was healthy again, the better.
On his second attempt, Andrew deemed the soup edible and brought it to the bedroom.
“Rise and shine, Josten, you need to eat.”
“Don’t…don’t wanna…” Neil said, making himself more comfortable in the bed.
“Too bad.You either get up or I drag you out, which one will it be?” Andrew really was getting tired of playing the nanny.
Neil made no effort to get out of bed, but he did turn to look at Andrew as he said:
“ ’M fine.” and started coughing.
Andrew glared and raised an eyebrow as if challenging him to argue further and Neil finally, finally got up.
“Can you eat or will I have to spoon feed you like a baby?
Now it was Neil’s time to glare as he took the soup from Andrew and started eating.
~
The next couple of days went by pretty much the same: Andrew taking care Neil and occasionally cuddling up with the cats.
Well, as much as Andrew tried to avoid catching whatever virus had troubled Neil, he had no such luck.The good thing was that he knew when to take a break and not go on until the point of losing his consciousness.As much as he hated it -and Neil for giving him this awful virus- he had to admit that he indeed needed Neil’s help.
“Are you going to stay in bed all day and make my task even harder or are you going to cooperate today?” Neil asked a grumpy Andrew.
“I hate you.” Andrew grumbled.
“Love you too, babe, but now’s not the time to get all sentimental on me.” Neil said, sarcasm dripping from his words.
Andrew’s glare wasn’t as intimidating as it would have been if he had been healthy and not buried in a nest of blankets and pillows.He obliged after glaring at Neil some more and went after him in the kitchen, taking one of the blankets with him.As soon as he sat down on a chair, Sir jumped in his lap, meowing loudly and demanding attention.Andrew petted him a few times before putting him back on the ground.
“If you try to give me soup again, I will kill you.” Andrew warned Neil.
Neil glared at him as he placed in front of Andrew some toast and tea as well as an aspirin and a glass of water.He had tried to make soup the day before and let’s just say that he didn’t exactly want Andrew to have food poisoning on top of the cold.
~
They were cuddled up on the couch, watching some dumb movie that Neil was only half following when Andrew spoke up:
“The next time you catch a cold I should let you fend for yourself instead of risking catching it from you again.”
“And you sure didn’t look like you needed help at all, did you?”
“Shut up, Josten.” Andrew said, pulling Neil in for a kiss.
They didn’t go any further since they were still recovering, but it was enough for the both of them.
AU where Jiyeong and Sae Byeok met each other years ago when they had the same crappy job, and Sae Byeok reminisces on whatever they had back then.
It was going to be one huge chapter, but I decided to split it into two so I don't spend forever writing this.
How long had it been since Sae Byeok had last seen Jiyeong? She couldn't remember. It had been a while. Time had passed, the tick-tock of the clock reminding her every day that whatever happened then, didn't matter now. She was laying in her bed, looking up at the blank ceiling. What a crappy apartment. She could see the white paint peeling off. She might have been going crazy, but it looked like her face.
Yeah, time had passed. She still felt the same though.
From time to time, she considered calling her. Maybe every couple of days. Did she even have the same number? Had she left the job at that terrible store? Sae Byeok still remembered her boss screaming at them. It wasn't fun, but then again, she had gotten the money from that job, grabbed her brother, and left Seoul. She wasn't living in riches, but the money was enough to ground herself. The apartment was small and terrible and had the thinnest walls possible, but she did manage to pay for the apartment in a medium city (she didn't like small towns. People felt like they had the right to stick their noses in her life, and she was too guarded to let it happen).
Jiyeong was... Small. She remembered her as being very small and annoying, and very bright. She had no family name. She never talked about her family to anyone. They had this... Unspoken bond, this quiet alliance where they always had each other's back but never said so out loud. Sae Byeok would never ask for help, and Jiyeong was the same, so it was nice to have someone they didn't have to ask.
She rolled over onto her stomach, looking at the black screen of her phone. She always considered calling. Or texting. Maybe just checking how she was. She never quite understood how she felt about Jiyeong. She remembered meeting her.
"I guess you're the new cashier." She had smiled that day, looking up at Sae Byeok's blank expression. "Nice to meet you too. What's your name?"
"Sae Byeok." She said, already thinking of ways to dodge any other questions. Jiyeong looked down at a piece of paper.
"Oh. So you're the moving person." She frowned. Sae Byeok had been hired to move boxes and organize things, and she could see the girl thought it was weird that she would. She was tall and skinny, and didn't look very strong. "I guess there's something in the back you need to organize, them. And some new jackets you need to count."
"Kay." She was already flying past the other girl.
"Hey!" Sae Byeok stopped and took a deep breath before looking back.
"What?" She tried not to sound annoyed. If she did, the other girl ignored it. She put her hand forward for Sae Byeok to shake.
"Jiyeong." She hesitated a bit before shaking it, and then disappeared into the store.
Jiyeong was always bright-eyed, always smiling. It was annoying. Sae Byeok hated working with her for the first few months, because she always just felt like a terrible person for hating her. She hadn't done anything wrong, she was just... Weird.
It was the little things that made her change her mind, little by little. The first thing was when a customer decided they didn't like Sae Byeok for whatever reason. Maybe it was her silence. Maybe they just didn't like her face. Whatever. They kept bugging her, asking her for a bunch of unnecessary information.
"What's your family name, dear?"
"Kim." She lied.
"Where are you from?"
"Here."
"I've never seen you around."
"Seoul is a big city."
Safe to say, they were getting annoyed, and so was Sae Byeok. It was an endless back and forth and she couldn't really react properly, because they would complain to her boss and she would get fired. It had been only a couple of months since she had decided to get a regular, normal job, and so far she was hating it, but it was important for the sake of keeping her brother. She was doing her best to keep the illegal activities to a minimum.
Suddenly, she heard something fall in the back. It was a huge noise. Surely, the customer had heard it too. She looked to the register, but it was empty. She could swear Jiyeong was there just a few minutes ago.
"Yah, Sae Byeok!" She heard her voice. "I dropped a box! Could you come here and help me, please?"
As she passed by Jiyeong, she could swear she had seen her wink.
A few days later, when they were closing the store, was the first time Jiyeong had asked her out.
Well. Not exactly. She hadn't asked her out romantically.
"Hey, Sae Byeok." She had said, over the sound of the huge metal door being closed. Sae Byeok was on her knees, locking it at the bottom.
"Hm?"
"Do you want to grab some coffee?" She froze.
"It's a little late for coffee, no?"
"A drink, then." She tried to think of an excuse. "Or we could get some dinner?" She remembered the incident with the customer, and decided it would only be polite to agree. Then she wouldn't owe Jiyeong anything. Maybe she could grab something to take home too, and Cheol would have some fancy dinner too.
"Fine." Jiyeong lit up even more. She looked like she thought Sae Byoek would say no. "Where to, then?" Jiyeong grabbed her wrist and started dragging her along.
"I know a place."
The whole way, Sae Byeok's eyes were glued to Jiyeong's hand on her wrist. She was wearing a pretty thick oversized green jacket, but Jiyeong was touching her under it. She felt electric and dizzy, like she had already drunk a full bottle of hard liquor. She gulped, thinking about snapping her wrist away but knowing full well that she wouldn't.
She really needed to throw some cold water on her face.
"We're here!" Finally, Jiyeong let go of her wrist, and Sae Byeok timidly rubbed her wrist to get rid of the sensation of electricity running through her skin. Then she looked up, at a crappy bar and restaurant not too far away from where they worked. "This is my favorite place."
"It looks..."
"Terrible, I know. But the food is very good."
Sae Byeok wanted to smile, for some weird reason. She didn't understand why, but there was some warmth in her chest. She scratched her nose to hide it, and once her hand had left her face, it was gone. Just a split second of madness, hopefully now gone forever.
They had tteokbokki, with some cheap beer. She could see what Jiyeong was talking about. The food was amazing, although the place was terrible. It was the best meal she had ever had, though maybe it was because she was so mesmerized by Jiyeong. At the time, she tried not to give in to the feeling, but by now she understood that that was what it was.
"You're not really from around here, are you?" Asked Jiyeong.
"Are you?" She dodged.
"I am." She looked longingly at the wall, and Sae Byeok recognized that look. She was somewhere else, lost inside her head. She couldn't pinpoint if she was at a good place or a bad place inside her head. "Though I've been away for a while." Sae Byeok slowly shook her head up and down.
"Anywhere good?"
"No." She smiled. "Why did you take the job back at the store, though? It's not the best ever."
"It pays."
"I guess. But you could do better." She smiled. "You look smart enough."
"Thank you." She took a bite to give herself some time, and Jiyeong did the same. "You too."
Their conversations were always like that: they danced around the real subjects, and they talked vaguely about things. There was never any real information being exchanged, but some feelings seemed mirrored. She saw herself in Jiyeong, a strange, new version that she didn't fully understand.
But still, there was this understanding between them. Every time one of them needed help, the other did what was possible. Every Thursday, Jiyeong dragged her to the restaurant. Sometimes, particularly on the weekends, they met at a park nearby and sat together in silence, appreciating the sights.
And most importantly, they never asked about each other's pasts.
She sighed on her bed, reluctantly dialing the familiar number. She still didn't press the call button, choosing to just... Stare at it. She had only ever called it once, and Jiyeong had never called her. She didn't know why she did, back then.
Her little brother had made friends at school, and he had asked for a sleepover. It was the first time since she got him from the orphanage that she was going to be away from him for an entire day, and it made her anxious. She agreed very reluctantly, and now she was alone at home, staring at nothing. Jiyeong had given Sae Byeok her number only a couple of days ago, with the excuse that they might need to get their stories straight over something that had happened at work. Once the loneliness and the fear had gotten too big to fit inside her heart, she called.
Jiyeong showed up at her door a little later. Sae Byeok stood up to let her in, and then sat on the floor. The newcomer wandered around for a little bit, taking in the blandness of the small studio apartment. There was nothing. No decorations, barely any furniture... And a sad tall girl sat on the floor.
"Why did you call me?" Jiyeong said, sitting beside her.
"... I don't know." She paused. "I guess I just needed company."
"Oh." Was she weirded out? Did she not like that? "Do you live alone?"
"No." Once more, she needed to pause before continuing on with her sentence. "I have a little brother."
"How old is he?"
"Ten."
"That's young." Sae Byeok chuckled.
"Yeah."
They stayed in silence for a while. Jiyeong put her arms around Sae Byeok, and she didn't know why, but Sae Byeok let her head fall on Jiyeong's shoulder. She was definitely taller, but she felt smaller then. She didn't cry, but Jiyeong still kept rubbing her arm as if she was. She didn't know why either, but she grabbed Jiyeong's free hand with both of hers, encompassing it entirely.
"Did something happen to your brother?" Jiyeong asked, trying to understand what was going on, probably confused by the other's sudden change.
"No." Another pause. "Kind of."
"What happened?"
"He's on his first sleepover."
"Oh."
"It's stupid." Once again, there were no tears, but her voice sounded as if she was. It was trembling and small.
"It's not. It' sweet that you care."
She kissed the top of Sae Byeok's head. It was a... Confusing moment, to say the least. Because Sae Byeok was sad, but a couple of butterflies appeared in her stomach. And she didn't move. She didn't want her feelings to show, so she let them bubble inside of her. It was... Overwhelming. Excruciating. She wanted to scream.
"It will be alright." Jiyeong continued. "I can stay over, if you want. To keep you company."
"Don't you have anyone to miss you at home?"
"No." She could hear the smile on Jiyeong's voice, the type of misplaced one she always carried. "I live alone. It must be nice to have someone." Sae Byeok chuckled.
"I'm sure you're not completely alone."
"I really am."
"No, you're not. You have me." Sae Byeok didn't know what possessed her not to keep her mouth shut. She regretted it instantly. She wanted to run and hide. But Jiyeong held her hand more firmly, and squished her arm, and kissed the top of her head again.
"Then you have me, too."
Sae Byeok must have lost her mind, but her lips met Jiyeong's and she lost herself in them. She was expecting her to push her away, slap her in the face. To storm out and tell her to find another job. Instead, her hands found Sae Byeok's hair and cheek, just as Sae Byeok's found her waist. In her head, there were sirens. This is a bad idea. Stop while you can. Even then, there was this sort of desperation she didn't know was there before, and she could never stop even if she wanted to.
Summary: Mulder finds a letter addressed to him in a box of Scully’s old things.
--
Mulder closes the attic door behind him quietly. The cardboard box labelled Dana stares at him so menacingly, he can barely take the three steps needed to reach it. He does it. He drags his feet, but he does it.
He takes deep breaths to stop his heart from racing, to stop his throat from clogging. To stop his eyes from watering. To stop him remembering.
The box has not been opened since it was sealed shut in November of 1997. It has been staring at him for the better part of three years, pressing into the back of his mind, tormenting him. He has to though. He needs to move on. He needs to be able to be happy without thinking of it.
He makes his decision.
The box had been cleared of dust when he moved his things into his new place, but had remained untouched since 1997. Unopened since 1997.
He runs his fingers on the creased, crackling masking tape, hoping it will peel itself open. Hoping the effort needed to even touch the box is the hardest part of what he is about to do.
If he repeats it, maybe it will make him feel calmer about it.
1997.
He scratches the tape off with his nails but it tears, leaving the box as it had been, closed. He tries again and again and only on the third try does the tape come off, taking the first two layers of cardboard along with it. He runs the pads of his fingers along the torn cardboard, squeezing his eyes shut and taking slow deep breaths.
This is so much harder than he expected.
The first item in the box he has no memory of ever seeing. It is an envelope, addressed to him. In her handwriting. His hands start to shake as he flips it in his hands and eases the envelope open. As expected, it tears and a shaky breath leaves his mouth. He pulls out a letter that he was unaware ever existed.
May 1997
Dear Mulder,
As I’m writing this, my health is deteriorating rapidly so if you’re reading this, it means I didn’t make it. It means my illness has taken me and that I haven’t had the chance to tell you everything you deserve to know.
His eyes start to burn rapidly, his pulse quickens and he feels his fingers go numb.
I— this is very hard for me to say. Write. I’ve always pictured telling you in person, not like this. Not when I’m no longer here with you. I always worried over how you’d react. So much so that I’ve left it to the very last minute. And it has only harmed. This was always supposed to be happy — well, I’d always hoped it would be happy, anyway — but I’ve gone and made it painful.
Mulder squeezes his eyes shut, hoping to calm his heart and stop his nose from running. He doesn’t want his tears smearing her words. Her letter. Not this one. Not if it is what he thinks it is.
I figured it would be cruel to tell you like this, when I’m not here with you, but would it really be more merciful that not telling you at all? My feelings for you… they’re complicated.
No. That’s a lie. They’re very simple. They’re just complicated for me to process.
Mulder wishes he’d told her about his. About the way his heart sped up every time she entered the room, every time he picked up the phone and she muttered “Mulder, it’s me,” every time she so much as raised her eyebrow at him. He wishes he’d told her about the way he loved seeing her blow that strand of hair out of her eyes. That he loved the little smile she got when he said something ridiculous and he loved the little yawns she tried to stifle on night-long stakeouts. He still does.
You see, it didn’t take long for me to know you were different. At first, I just thought you were spooky. Then I met you. I thought you were incredibly intelligent. I was right. Then, my feelings started to shift. You see, within the first year that I’d worked with you, I’d started to become nervous about the idea of seeing you every day. I was so confused but— Melissa had to spell it out for me — it was not a bad nervous. It was a good nervous.
Mulder smiles at the shift in handwriting that Scully’s words go through in those very few, yet significant words. He can tell that she was nervous when she wrote this. That she wanted to get it right.
She did get it right. To Mulder, Scully could do no wrong. Ever.
You see, I was falling in love with you. There, I said it. It’s out. Now you know. It’s too late, but at least you know. I’ve been falling in love with you — slowly but surely — since the day I met you. I just wish I’d had the guts to tell you when I was still healthy. When I was still around. When I could still show you.
Mulder puts the letter down. The burning behind his eyes becomes overwhelming and he is unable to stop the tears from spilling down his cheeks. He violently rakes his sleeve across his face, not wanting to spill tears on the precious words Scully had written. Words that he had so desperately wanted to hear from her.
At least he knows, now.
I could sit here and write pages and pages about everything you do that makes my knees weak. I could sit here for the literal rest of my life trying to tell you just how in love with you I am, Mulder. I should have told you sooner. I really should have.
Mulder tries so hard to hold in the whimper, but it tears through his chest like a rabid animal. The emotion that had been building up finally set free. He is no longer able hold the tears back. He sobs audibly and the sound echoes through the attic, bounces off the walls and down the stairs.
Mulder I don’t want you to be miserable. I want you to live a long and happy life. I want you to know that you, Mulder, are and will always be the love of my life and I can only hope that you love me, too. That being said, Mulder, I have one request.
He doesn’t hear the gentle footsteps over the sound of his hiccupping cries. He doesn’t hear the door creak open and footsteps getting progressively louder.
I want you to be happy. I want you to find someone that makes you as happy as you have made me these past four years. I want you to live a long and fulfilling life. Please, for me.
Please, don’t forget me too soon, Mulder.
I love you,
yours,
Dana Katherine Scully
He feels small hand wrap around his shoulders, then across his chest and up to stroke his cheek. He pushes the letter away from him and wraps his arms around his legs, burying his face in his knees. When he is ready, he looks up at her.
His eyes are bloodshot and wet, his nose runny and his face contorted with distress. His breathing is heavy and the tears are relentless. Her hands creep up his face, to the back of his head and bring it to her chest. She takes his hand and presses it to the warmth of her chest. She presses it over her heart so that he can hear the thump thump thump of her heart beat. Alive. Healthy. In love.
“Mulder,” she whispers, “Mulder, it’s me. I’m here, I love you”
She continues to whisper sweet, calming words into his ears. Continues until his loud and violent sobs are just tears falling silently down his cheeks. His and hers, too.
