#a movie that gave me suspense until the last second | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

storiesforallfandoms · 3 years

Text

and the winner is... ~ eminem

word count: 1784

request?: yes!

“hey, love your writing sm ❤️ I really like the concept where the reader is a young actress with Eminem, so can I request one where they go to Marshall’s award show for the first time publicly, they try to keep it low key but the reader presents an award and when Em wins they share a warm moment on stage and the media loses it? thanks in advance”

description: in which they say they’re going to be lowkey for their first public appearance as a couple, and then he wins the award she’s presenting

pairing: eminem x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist (one, two)

It was hard to keep my hands off of Marshall as we walked down the red carpet. It was our first public outing as a couple, but Marshall wasn’t very into PDA so we had decided to keep it somewhat lowkey. It seemed like a good idea in theory, until Marshall did the unthinkable and showed up dressed in a suit. How am I supposed to not jump his bones when he looks damn fine in a suit?

Every time I so much as glanced at him the paparazzi would go crazy. So many flashing lights that eventually I was seeing spots. It was hard to keep smiling when I couldn’t even see ahead of me.

Marshall put an arm around my waist - which of course led to more flashing lights - and walked me off the red carpet into the venue. The minute I walked through the doors into the dimly lit room, it really was like I couldn’t see. I had to take a minute to let my eyes adjust to the sudden light change.

“Weird how quickly I go from basically a nobody on a red carpet to a hot commodity just because I have attractive arm candy,” I joked.

A half smile tugged at Marshall’s lips. “You were never a nobody. Not to me anyways.”

“Awe, that’s so sweet it’s kind of gross,” I teased.

This earned me an actual laugh as Marshall pulled me in for a kiss. Without any prying eyes around, we felt free to actually be a couple.

We engaged with some others in the industry, including those Marshall considered to be close friends of his. I felt out of place at this music award show as an actress who was still trying to become more than just a side character in the movies she starred in. I was grateful to have Marshall there to help me through it.

When we took our seats as the show was starting, Marshall reached over to take my hand. “Are you okay?”

I shrugged. “Nervous I think. Which I shouldn’t be because it’s just me announcing an award, but it’s my first time on an award show stage for any reason, and it’s a pretty big award.”

“And it’s one I’m nominated for.”

I looked over at Marshall with wide eyes. “What?!”

“You didn’t know?”

I shook my head. Now I felt so much more nervous. What if I pulled a Steve Harvey and said the wrong name because I wanted Marshall to win? Or what if he actually did win but everyone thought I said he did because we were dating? I tried to focus on the stage ahead of me but my heart was beating so fast that my vision was starting to get blurry. I felt warm, like I was sweating, which made me worry that my makeup was starting to run. I was going to look disgusting with my makeup running on live television.

Sensing my new found nervousness, Marshall gave my hand a reassuring squeeze.

“Hey, look at me.” I glanced over to meet his gaze. “It’s going to be okay. You’ve rehearsed this speech so much that you can say it without the teleprompter. It’s not going to be any different just because I’m nominated. If I win, you give me the award and I do a speech. If I don’t win, you give the award to whoever does and they make a speech. It’s not a big deal, (Y/N), don’t worry too much about it.”

I wished I could’ve just let my fear rush from my body, but it was still there. Before I could say anything else, the lights went down and the show officially started.

I tried to just sit and enjoy the show but it was hard when I had my upcoming presenter role looming over me. Of course, it was one of the last awards of the show, so I had to sit there and let my nerves build as the suspense for the winner of the award grew as well.

Every now and then Marshall would give my hand another squeeze and I would calm down for that split second. Having him by my side helped a lot, but every time I remembered that he might be the recipient of the award I became nervous again.

Finally, it was my time to take the stage. They passed me the envelope with the name of the winner and motioned for me to take the stage. I plastered a smile on my face as my name was called and I walked onto the stage. I hoped the cameras couldn’t pick up my shaking, and I really hoped my shaking wouldn’t make my voice sound as bad as I feared it would.

“This award can only go to the best of the best,” I started, glancing at the prompter in front of me to make sure I was saying the words correctly. “The person who worked the hardest and had the best payoff with their release. The competition this year is fierce, and it was hard to narrow it down to just these five artists, as there have been so many amazing works of art released this past year. It has been an even harder choice to pick who of them all is the best, although I might be bias in saying I’ve already chosen my favorite.”

The audience chuckled at my improved addition to the speech.

“Ladies and gentlemen, here are your nominees.”

I watched the video that played of the nominated artists. My heart skipped a beat when Marshall came up, a few clips from the music videos he had filmed playing in a short montage. He had worked so hard on his latest album, every part of me hoped that he would be the winner I was announcing.

As the video came to an end, I turned back to face the audience (and the cameras) to announce the winner.

“And the award goes to...”

I tried not to let my slight fear show as I fumbled with the envelope for a moment. I started to worry that I wouldn’t even be able to open it and completely embarrass myself on live TV. I tried not to sigh with relief when the seal perfectly popped open and I was able to pull the card out. The smile on my face had to have given away the winner before the words were even out of my mouth.

“Eminem!”

The crowd cheered and stood from their seats. A camera found Marshall, who was standing from his seat and hugging Paul and Denaun before making his way to the stage. I couldn’t help but smile proudly at him as I extended the award I was holding - his award - to him.

I was taken by surprise when he wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me in for a kiss. It was brief since he had an award to accept, but it was enough to make my head spin, the way his kisses usually did.

When he pulled away I was still so stunned that I almost forgot to give him his award. I could see him trying to hold back a laugh as he took it from my hands and turned to the microphone.

“Thank you,” he said to the still cheering audience. For a minute I forgot there was anyone else in the room, and realizing so many people had watched that kiss made my cheeks heat up. “I’d like to thank my manager, Paul, who for some reason still backs me with everything I do and produce even when it pushes the boundaries a little too much. I also want to thank the good Doctor, who has been supporting me since day one and who has always believed in me and gave me this platform to make music and to push the boundaries that Paul has to deal with. My daughters, my biggest inspirations. And of course, I’d like to thank the beautiful lady who presented this award to me tonight. I may not show it publicly but I am my happiest when I’m with you and I cannot thank you enough for that.”

I blinked away the tears forming in my eyes as I clapped along with the audience. The music started playing as Marshall offered me his arm to walk me off the stage. I felt like I was floating on cloud nine as we walked down the stairs and backstage, away from the cameras and the thousands of people watching us, both in person and on TV.

We were greeted backstage by other presenters and winners who were still mingling and celebrating their wins. Marshall was congratulated and a few of the other presenters told me how well I did with my presentation. I was proud of myself for getting through it, but I was more proud that I didn’t go completely airheaded after Marshall kissed me.

When we finally got away from the large amount of people, Marshall pulled me in for another kiss.

“So much for keeping it lowkey, huh?” I teased when I pulled away.

“I was caught up in the moment,” he said with a shrug, but I wasn’t completely convinced.

“That speech was uncharacteristically sweet,” I said. “For your public persona anyways. I figured you’d keep it short and sweet and maybe get the show into a little bit of trouble with an unplanned curse word.”

He chuckled. “Well normally that would be how things go. But I meant what I said during my speech: you make me the happiest I’ve ever been. When you said my name I just couldn’t help but feel this unfamiliar surge of happiness and excitement at winning. You know I don’t care about these types of award shows, but the fact that you presented this award to me made me care for just a second. I know I’ll be the talking point for the next few days because of this, but right now I don’t care all that much.”

Tears were welling in my eyes again as I pulled him back to me. “Shut up, you’re gonna ruin my makeup.”

His laugh filled my ears as he pulled me for another kiss. The happiness he said he felt coursed through my veins too. I couldn’t imagine being with anyone else in a moment like this.

When he pulled away he put his arm around me again and started to walk towards the door. “Let’s get out of here. I think I wanna celebrate my win with the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met.”

I smiled brightly at him. “I like the sound of that.”

#eminem #eminem imagine #eminem x reader #marshall mathers #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers x reader #imagine #one shot #request #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

676 notes · View notes

miinesweeper · 3 years

Text

john bender ⌁ a class act

pronouns: they/them type: fluff

—

"i'm so fucking fed up with mr. collins," y/n fulminated with absolutely no exaggeration, yellow detention slip clamped and waggling around between their fingers as they moved, "he busts me for every little fucking thing,"

john leaned against the cold, smooth brick wall of the almost-never-used first floor girls' bathroom where y/n and him would go during school to talk (and do other things sometimes) when they simply couldn't bother going to class.

his eyes followed them as they paced back and forth, their footfalls echoing around the empty stone room. mr. collins was a name that bounced around this room pretty often, even though it was only the second month of school. every time y/n mentioned him, john's jaw clenched a little.

"oh, shorts a little too short? detention. one second late after the bell? detention. essay one sentence too short? detention!" they ranted, their hands motioning in front of them and landing at their sides in tight fists, "he fucking sucks! and i have to spend the whole year with him! miserable piece of shit-"

they were lucky no teachers were out in the hallways near the bathroom right then. they certainly would have both gotten saturday detentions for skipping class if anyone heard y/n shouting.

"he used to do the same shit to me," john replied, considerably more quiet than y/n, "the guy's a real piece of work,"

john figured that mr. collins was being so hard on y/n because he (and everyone else in school, for that matter) knew that they were dating him. and he got in trouble plenty last year when he was in mr. collins' class. y/n was just guilty by association.

"i don't think i'm gonna last this whole year without punching him,"

"not that i don't want to see him get his face smashed in, i do, sure as shit, but don't go getting violent," john instructed, considering lighting up a cigarette but deciding not to give away their hiding spot to any possible passersby, "what period do you have him, third? how about tomorrow you just skip and come here?"

he stood up from the wall and walk toward y/n, placing his hands on their waist. they shed the anger that was pent up tensely in their body language and hugged him, "sounds good," they said into his shoulder, "if he doesn't give me a detention first," they added bitterly.

"i don't think he will," john replied into their hair.

the end-of-second-period bell rang and the halls overflowed with kids, the dam-doors of classrooms unable to contain them anymore. y/n walked out of the large study hall room, walking slowly and leisurely through the halls as they weren't intending on going to their third period class.

to get to the bathroom that john and them usually hung around in, they had to walk past mr. collin's classroom though. it was a thirty second long speed-walk that filled y/n with anxiety. any second mr. collins could come out that door and catch them and make them go to class. probably serve them up a steaming hot detention too.

the worst part of the long, straight-forward journey down the hall was the second or two where they had to walk right past his door. the tall rectangle of glass in the door could mean life or death for them. they walked on the other side of the hall from it, as far as possible from being seen.

but just as they walked past the door, y/n flinched. mr. collins' yelling blew up like a bomb on the class, the surrounding ones too probably got some of the aftershock too. he was yelling the way that no teacher ever yelled, no matter how rowdy and loud the class was being.

they wanted to stick around, maybe take a peak inside to see what made him so angry, but couldn't risk that. no one was around, so they made a beeline down the hallway, running like it was gym class.

they rounded the corner like a car screeching onto a quiet residential street, shoes squeaking along until they made it to threshold of the bathroom. they felt like they'd flown down the hall faster than a bullet.

john was already there, waiting for y/n in the same spot that he stood in the day before.

"what are you running like a bat outta hell for?" he asked, a confused look on his face.

"you're never gonna believe this," y/n said, catching their breath.

john leaned forward with interest, looking incredibly calm compared to his significant other, panting in front of him.

"i was literally just walking past mr. collins' class on the way here. and he just," they paused trying to think of the right way to describe the scene to him, "he just exploded, yelling at the class asking 'who did this? who the hell did this?'" y/n tried to imitate his anger, but couldn't even get close to sounding as furious as he had.

"oh? did what?" john asked, in a fake innocent tone that y/n had heard him use before.

"i didn't stick around long eno..."

john's face went from innocent to mischievous, a small hinting smirk.

"oh my god, john!" they said and playfully shoved his shoulder, "what did you do?"

his hands casually slid into his pockets, "well," his tone was like a smug movie director being asked about his amazing film, "all i really did was get some paint from my garage,"

y/n could already tell where this was going.

"you see, mr. collins' first class is third period, so he doesn't come in for an hour or two after everyone else. so, before third period, i got into his room and gave his chair a nice, fresh thick coat of black paint,"

the ecstatic but also somewhat terrified look on y/n's face made john feel proud.

"honestly i thought maybe he'd have a keen enough eye to spot it before sitting down in it, considering he notices every time your shorts are too short. but, clearly not," he shrugged. (haha, 'BUTT' clearly not- get it- cus he got paint on his butt-)

"you're going to be in such deep shit," y/n said, worried for him but overjoyed that he'd gotten revenge on the asshole english teacher.

"oh i know," he said. he'd come to terms with that part already; about seven years earlier when he first got in trouble at school and decided that no detention or suspension was going to stop him from doing whatever the hell he wanted. "god i wish i coulda seen his face," he said as he put an arm around y/n, "now that that's taken care of," he yanked a carton of cigarettes out of his jeans pocket, "smoke?"

"fuck yes," they said, taking the one he handed to them and resting it between their lips, waiting for him to light it.

the two sat against the back wall, taking puffs from their cigarettes, hand in hand.

y/n turned and looked at him, "you are fucking crazy, john bender,"

date: aug 31, 21' word count: 1052

#john bender #the breakfast club #john bender x reader #the breakfast club x reader

403 notes · View notes

sometimesbeforeitgetsbetter · 3 years

Text

Off the Record | Stiles Stilinski

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x reader

Summary: High school in Beacon Hills, as told through the eyes of one inquisitive journalist who has a knack at getting on Stiles Stilinski's nerves.

Warnings: idk there's like a couple curse words lmao. also, spoilers? if you haven't finished teen wolf I guess??

Word count: 8,227

A/N: hi hi this is my first fic I'm posting on Tumblr (not to say that this is my first fic ever...anyway)! before you start, I just wanna say that there's a couple things that might be off from the show but please just ignore them. like I think it's bs Lydia brings Stiles back and not Scott in 6b so I righted that wrong. but I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think of it! thanks for reading!!

All my life I’ve wondered why people didn’t question what happens in Beacon Hills.

It’s no secret that our town is unusual, but when odd things seemed to happen, people would just turn a blind eye and go about their business.

I, on the other hand, couldn’t let it go. I was inquisitive by nature, and my mom never knew how to answer my questions.

Why do we have so many animal attacks?

What happened to the people that disappeared in the Preserve?

Why did his eyes glow like that?

That last question almost caused my mom to get me a therapist – which probably would’ve helped me regardless – but she just continued to answer with her usual responses.

They just feel threatened by us, dear.

They’re in a better place now.

I’m sure it was nothing – you probably just saw some reflection in his eyes.

But no matter what she told me, I wasn’t satisfied. I knew there was something bigger going on, something my mom couldn’t explain, but I wasn’t sure what. As I got older, however, I realized that if I kept voicing my concerns, I’d be seen as the local crazy person – which, at the time, was the title reserved for my neighbor, Donna Romano, who always went to Town Hall meetings to complain about how some supernatural creatures were traumatizing her dogs every time she took them out at night to urinate.

Out of fear of sounding like Donna, I kept my suspicions to myself. I observed the strange actions of those around me and kept note of the bizarre events that happened in town. I found that it was something I was good at – observing. Always watching, but never voicing my opinions. Eventually, it got the best of me because I grew really quiet at school. But I didn’t mind. I liked being a wallflower.

One day in the fifth grade I saw my mom reading the Beacon Chronicle and I had an epiphany – journalists investigate weird, inexplicable events, so I should be a journalist. Reading the news became my favorite pastime, and by sixth grade I decided I would join the high school newspaper, The Daily Beacon, when I became a freshman. I figured maybe it would give me an outlet to investigate the odd occurrences in the town without looking like a lunatic.

But in sixth grade, I noticed that some of the odd things had stopped happening. There were less animal attacks and disappearances from the Preserve. Some people had even left town, including the last of the Hales, whose house had burned down that same year.

I didn’t give up hope though. I kept my head down and waited for things to get weird again. In the meantime, I wrote for enjoyment. In eighth grade I started shadowing a girl named Anna that was a part of the Daily Beacon, and I started writing articles – album reviews, movie reviews, school news.

Everything was going smoothly until my sophomore year of high school. Suddenly the weird things were happening, and I was sure that there was one person that was at the epicenter of it all – Scott McCall.

“...Angela, you’re covering the new faculty; Thomas, you’ve got the new Vegan Support Group club some juniors just created; and y/n, you’re covering lacrosse try-outs,” said Andrew, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Beacon.

I groaned slightly. “Andrew, couldn’t I write something a little bit more...my style? Like what about the one freshman class that boycotted their summer reading and is facing suspension?”

He gave me a slight look. “y/n, you know how important this lacrosse piece is. You know what that sport means to the school. You should be glad I’m giving you this opportunity,” he scolded. “Besides, Marlene is covering that class and is already interviewing their teacher.”

I nodded slowly and tried to refrain from rolling my eyes. I knew that Andrew meant well – he had been like an older brother to me ever since my freshman year – and he was right about the importance of lacrosse. I stayed quiet until he dismissed us, then mentally prepared myself to spend my afternoon watching some jocks exude machismo on a field.

When my last class was over, I walked over to the lacrosse field and found myself a spot on the top of the bleachers. It gave me an excellent vantage point – until a couple girls sat down right in front of me. The redhead I recognized to be Lydia Martin, the school’s resident popular girl. We’d been in class together all our lives, but I couldn’t remember a time she ever talked to me. I’m sure she didn’t even know I existed, just like the majority of the other people in our grade. The other girl, however, I didn’t recognize. I found out her name was Allison by overhearing their conversation. She was new and must have just moved to Beacon Hills.

The shrill sound of Coach’s whistle knocked me out of my thoughts. Tryouts started, and I watched as Scott McCall, a boy from my grade, was nearly knocked out by a lacrosse ball to the face. I winced but wrote down the event in the notebook I had out for documentation.

The next ball that went Scott’s way didn’t hit his face though. He managed to catch it in his goalie net. I couldn’t help but be a bit surprised – like Lydia, I’d known of Scott my whole life though he probably didn’t know me at all. But that meant I knew he was an asthmatic that wasn’t particularly skilled at sports.

“He’s actually pretty good,” I mumbled to myself as Scott continued to catch every ball that came his way.

I didn’t realize how loud I must’ve said it though because at my remark Allison turned around. “I was just thinking the same thing,” she said, obviously surprised. “Do you know him?”

I shook my head and quickly turned my attention to my notebook to write down the surprising turn of events. “Are you writing about this for the school newspaper?” I looked back up at Allison’s question. She was paying attention to me?

“Um, yeah, I am. I’d rather not write about sports, but here I am,” I joked lightly.

She let out a beautiful laugh at my statement. “Well, I’m glad you’re here. I’m Allison, and you are…?”

“y/n,” I answered. “Nice to meet you, Allison.” Suddenly the crowd roared, and I remembered why I was there. Allison, too, smiled and turned her attention back to the game. Lydia hadn’t said a word, but she was focused on watching Scott absolutely demolish Jackson Highmore, who, in my opinion, needed to be knocked down a few pegs anyway.

The more I watched Scott though, I got this weird feeling. He was good – too good. I tried to ignore my feelings and just focus on writing notes for the ridiculous lacrosse piece, which would include the headline: “Sophomore Scott McCall shines at lacrosse tryouts and becomes team co-captain.” But deep down I knew there was something up with him.

A few days later, I was sitting behind Stiles Stilinski, Scott’s best friend, in English class. Even though I’d had nearly all of my classes with him, we never talked. It originally was because I had a minor crush on him and was afraid I’d pass out if I spoke to him, but eventually it just morphed into me not speaking to many people and being convinced he didn’t know of my existence anyway.

But this one day, I was committed to speaking with him. I had to know what was going on, and if there was one person that knew anything about Scott’s new-found lacrosse talent, it was Stiles.

“Hey, Stiles,” I spoke up from behind him.

The brunette turned around, slightly confused but with that soft smile on his face. “Oh, hey, y/n. What’s up?”

I swear my heart stopped beating for a second. He knew my name? He knew who I was? I shook myself out of my thoughts before I went down the rabbit hole of the implications of him knowing me.

“Oh, nothing much. I’m just writing a piece about lacrosse tryouts for the school newspaper and I was just wondering if you had anything to say about it,” I explained.

He tilted his head slightly and shifted in his seat to more fully face me. “Um, yeah sure. I think it’s going to be a great season, especially since we’ve gotten some new leadership. My boy Scott’s co-captain now, so those Devenford Prep guys won’t know what hit them!”

“Speaking of Scott, when did he get so good at lacrosse? Would you say it’s natural talent?” I pressed a bit, hoping he’d say something that would give me a hint as to what was going on.

Stiles’ eyes squinted a little, and his head tilted slightly again. He seemed to be at a loss for words, which was unusual for the fast-talking, sarcastic boy, but he quickly recovered. “It’s definitely...natural...talent. He’s been working extra hard recently to hone his talent and skills so he could bring his A-game to this year’s tryouts.” When he finished speaking, he looked pleased with himself, and I could tell he had let out a small sigh of relief.

What are you hiding?

Though I didn’t know it yet, at that moment my rivalry with Stiles Stilinski began. He and Scott were hiding something, and I was going to find out what it was.

“You’re telling me that a girl is in a coma after the school winter formal and you don’t want me to write a story about it?”

Andrew leaned against the desk and crossed his arms. “It’s not that I don’t want you to write it. I just think it’s a tense time right now. The administration is receiving a lot of flack right now because of the winter formal fiasco, and Ms. Blanchard told me that we may want to avoid stirring the pot right now,” he explained. “That is not to say that we abandon our journalistic integrity and commitment to informing the student body, but we just may want to be sensitive to our environment right now.”

I trusted Ms. Blanchard, the faculty sponsor of the Daily Beacon, but not reporting on Lydia’s comatose state felt wrong. She was well-known at school, and students deserved to know the facts of her situation and how it had happened.Well, maybe I was lying to myself by saying that the real reason I wanted to pursue the story wasn’t the fact that something inexplicable had happened at the dance and I had to figure out what it was.

Andrew could sense my disappointment. “Look, maybe for now you can start collecting information and sources, and I’ll talk to Ms. Blanchard. Maybe she can advise us on how best to proceed.��

I threw my arms around Andrew in a quick hug. “Yes, thank you! I promise I’ll be sensitive when asking sources. I know how difficult this must be for the people close to her.”

“I know you will,” he said, chuckling lightly.

With a smile plastered on my face – perhaps a little inappropriately considering the topic I was excited to cover – I left the small newspaper office in search of my first source: Stiles Stilinski. He had been Lydia’s date to the dance, so surely he must know what happened to her, right? “No, I don’t know what happened,” Stiles angrily responded when I cornered him at his locker. “We were separated for a bit because she went looking for someone. When I went looking for her I–” he stopped suddenly, as if choosing his words carefully. He wouldn’t meet my eyes as he spoke.

“The next thing I know, she was at the hospital in a coma. They told me Jackson had found her out on the field when I went to check on her at the hospital,” he explained.

Something wasn’t adding up. “Ok, but where were you the rest of that time? You didn’t go looking for her when you didn’t see her for a while? What about when she had already been checked into the hospital?”

“What is this – an investigation?” Stiles shouted as he slammed his locker shut. I took a step back, eyes wide at the sudden display of aggression. Maybe I pushed too hard, I thought. Stiles rubbed a hand over his face and took a deep breath. “Sorry, I….I didn’t mean it like that. There’s just a lot going on, and my dad has been up my ass about those details too. To be honest, I can’t tell you where I was. The time just flew by and all of a sudden I’d realized I hadn’t seen Lydia for a couple hours. I wish I had been there for her, but there’s nothing I can do for her now other than check up on her.”

Running a hand over his buzzed head, he shot me a forced smile and said “good luck with your article” before walking away.

I was at a loss for words, trying to put the pieces together in my head. Surely he couldn’t have had a part in Lydia’s injury? There’s no way. But his defensiveness was off-putting–

“Hey, y/n!” I was snapped out of my thoughts by Allison approaching me from behind. “What were you talking to Stiles about?”

“Huh? Oh, um, I was just asking him about…” I remembered that the funeral for Allison’s aunt was happening and didn’t want to mention the additional stress of her best friend being comatose, so I opted for a white lie. “Biology homework. I wasn’t really paying attention in class today.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize you two were friends,” she said as she leant against the lockers.

I shook my head violently. “We’re not.” I’d grown too close to Allison for her to not pick up on my feelings though.

“You say that now, but–”

“I have to get to class. See you at lunch, Ally!”

Other things that year were weird, but none warranted any further investigation via newspaper article. Sure, I was wondering about Erica Reyes’ sudden transformation into the ultimate baddie, the mysterious deaths of a mechanic and Isaac Lahey’s dad, numerous paralyzations at the Jungle, and a death of someone at a secret rave, but Andrew thought it would be best for the Chronicle and Ledger to cover those bigger events. In fact, the only other unnatural event that happened that I had to cover for the newspaper was Stiles’ unbelievable winning streak at the lacrosse championship. I would have quoted him after the game, but I really didn’t want to speak to him and anyway, he had disappeared for a bit right after the team won.

I could tell that things were happening, but it was all hidden from public view. I even noticed Allison’s behavior fluctuating. The arrival of her grandfather shook things up, and while he gave me a bad feeling, I couldn’t exactly figure out why. Lydia was more troubled than usual after coming back from the hospital even though she tried to act normally. Jackson was going through something and was more angry and aggressive than usual, but I wasn’t close enough to him to ask him if he was okay.

Over the summer, I spent a surprising amount of time with Lydia. Allison spent her summer in France, but she asked me to keep an eye on Lydia to make sure she was okay, especially since Jackson had moved to London during the summer break. I was surprised how much I enjoyed spending time with the redhead, and we hung out when I wasn’t working at my internship at The Beacon Chronicle, which my mom had convinced me to apply for after she noticed how irritated I was that I couldn’t pursue some of the stories I wanted.

By the time Allison came back before the start of school, it felt like Lydia and I had been best friends for the longest time.

“So, Allison, have you talked to Scott at all this summer?” I asked when I was sitting in the backseat of Lydia’s car, Allison in the passenger seat.

She shook her head. “No, I think I still need some time. He...hides things from me and I don’t know if I can trust him.”

I nodded my head, understanding the feeling. I still couldn’t place my finger on what had happened between them or what Scott was involved in. Though I comforted her when I found out they broke up, I didn’t really know why they’d done it.

“What about you, y/n? Have you talked to Stiles at all?” Allison asked, looking back at me in the backseat.

“Why the hell would I talk to Stiles?” I questioned, confused.

She and Lydia shared a small look that I couldn’t decipher before she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t know, but you guys are more similar than you may think. I don’t know why you guys act like you don’t like each other though.”

The car rolled to a stop at the stop light, and all of a sudden I noticed a familiar baby blue jeep approach next to us. “Speak of the devil,” I mumbled. Lydia and Allison didn’t notice Stiles staring and waving at first, but when they did the car was filled with awkward tension.

The next events were a blur: Lydia running the red light, both cars stopping in the middle of the road, and a deer running straight towards us, nearing killing me in the gap between the front seats. We were shaken, and the boys ran towards us when they saw what happened.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked Lydia, but he kept looking at me. I nodded slightly and he turned his full attention back to Lydia.

“What was wrong with it?” Allison asked as Scott got closer to the deer.

“It was scared,” he explained. “No, terrified.”

Things got progressively weirder after that. On the first day of school, I interviewed our new English teacher, Ms. Blake. She was nice enough, but it was unfortunate that her class was the one that a whole flock of birds decided to burst through the classroom windows. By the time the police arrived, I was already drafting up a story in my brain: Why are the animals acting weird in Beacon Hills?

I had overheard Stiles talking to Scott about the deer’s weird behavior and the number of deer-related incidents in California, so I swallowed my pride so that I could talk to him and maybe get some stats and information on the whole situation.

I walked up to him when he was sitting alone, texting on his phone. “Hey, Stiles.” “y/n? What’s wrong?” He had genuine concern written on his face.

“I overheard you and Scott talking about deer-related incidents earlier,” I noticed how he tensed up at my statement, “and I was wondering if you could help me with a piece I’m writing? It seems like you know all the stats, so maybe...you could write it with me?” It pained me to finish that sentence, but I figured it might be easier to figure out what was going on if he was helping – especially if he already had inside information.

I think for the first time in his life, the talkative boy was speechless. “I understand if you don’t want to or you’re busy–” I said quickly, trying to give him a way out.

“Yeah, sure.”

I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t caught off guard by his response. “W-what?”

He smirked slightly. “Yeah, sure. I’ll help you out with your article, y/n. Collaborate with you, if you will. We can work on it at my house tomorrow afternoon if you want.”

Nodding and agreeing with the plan, I left the chaotic English classroom.

The next afternoon, I felt like I was walking into the lion’s den. Going to Stiles’ house felt foreign, but what was even stranger was seeing him in casual clothes in a comfortable environment.

He answered the door wearing some sweats and a t-shirt, looking more comfortable and confident than I’d ever seen him. “Hey, y/n. Come on in,” he greeted.

I thanked him awkwardly, and we walked to his dining room table to get set up. “Sorry, I need to go grab my notes from my room. Be back in a sec,” Stiles said before leaving me alone in his dining room.

After a moment of silence, Sheriff Stilinski walked in wearing his uniform. “Oh, y/n! What are you doing here?” He had seen me a couple weeks ago in the police station when I was requesting documents for a story for the Chronicle. Though journalists and cops don’t often have a jovial relationship, he said that he liked me because of my commitment to the truth and respectful nature.

“Hey, Sheriff. I’m writing a piece about the animals acting weird, you know, with the deer accident and bird incident, and Stiles said he’d help me since he has a bunch of statistics on deer related car accidents.”

“Stiles is helping you? Well, I’ll be damned.” When he saw the confusion on my face, he rushed to explain himself. “No, not like that. It’s just, you’re all organized and focused, and Stiles is….Stiles.”

I was laughing heartily when the boy himself walked back into the room. “What’s going on, Daddy-o?”

“Nothing, son. Just catching up with y/n here. I’ve got to get to work, but you’re welcome anytime, y/n.” He said before patting Stiles on the shoulder and heading off to work.

Stiles looked over at me oddly when he placed his notes on the table and sat next to me. “Since when are you all buddy-buddy with my dad?”

Shrugging, I said, “Ever since we started grabbing beer every Thursday night while you’re at lacrosse practice.” His jaw dropped slightly, and I laughed again. “No, idiot. We’ve just interacted a lot because of my internship. Now, can we get started on the article?”

After the article was published, my next assignment was writing about the track meet a couple weeks later. I found out Allison and Lydia were riding together to the meet, so I tagged along.

Both girls were extremely tense the whole ride, seemingly concerned about something going on in the bus. We were only a few cars behind the bus full of track runners (and lacrosse players who were forced to attend the meet), but the stand-still traffic was a force to be reckoned with.

“Do you think we’re too close?” Allison asked.

“Honey, if you were any closer I think you’d mount the bus,” Lydia said sarcastically. She got a call from Stiles and looked over at Allison. “Hey, Stiles,” she dragged out the ‘hey,’ tension obvious in her voice.

She listened to what he was saying, something clearly wrong. “What do you mean he’s not–” she stopped when she remembered I was in the car, “healing?” She finished the question quietly, probably hoping I wouldn’t hear.

Healing? Is he injured?

“Yeah, ok, just find a way to get Coach to stop. We’ll meet you there.” She hung up and told Allison to pull off at the next stop.

When we got to the rest stop, I could see everyone hurrying to get off the bus. Allison parked the car, and we quickly went to the bathroom where I saw Scott nearly passed out on the floor. “Oh my god, is he okay?”

“Yeah, y/n. He’s fine. At least, he will be,” Stiles responded. He positioned his body in front of me a little bit as if he was trying to block my view of Scott.

I gently pushed him aside so I could see and was shocked to see black blood coming from the injured boy. “What the hell is going on? Why is his blood black?” I ran forward to get closer, kneeling next to Allison.

“It’s nothing. We just need to stitch him up and he’ll be fine.”

“Stiles, don’t fucking lie to me. I can see that he’s obviously not fine.”

“He’s right,” Allison said quietly. “We need to stitch him up. I need something to stitch him together with.” She looked around before remembering something in her bag.

I shook my head. “We need to tell Coach. Take him to a hospital or something.”

“No!” All three of them yelled at me.

It was quiet for a moment, all of us deciding where to go from here. “Just…” Stiles started, “please go and make sure the bus doesn’t leave without us. We’ll handle this.” I got up and slowly made my way to the door.

As I reached for the door, a hand grabbed my wrist. “y/n,” Stiles said, “it’ll make sense someday. Just trust us for now. Trust me,” he pleaded quietly out of earshot of the girls and Scott.

“I do,” I replied quietly, not meeting his eyes, before pulling my hand from his grasp and leaving the bathroom.

That night, we all had to stay at the Motel Glen Capri because of the postponed meet. I didn’t like its energy, and neither did Lydia. “A lot can happen in one night,” she said.

Though it was supposed to be two to a room, I convinced Coach to let me room with Allison and Lydia. Admittedly, Coach didn’t need much convincing because I was saving the school money by doing so. Once we got our room key, we went up to our room on the second floor.

“I’m going to go get a snack from the machine,” I told Lydia once Allison was in the shower.

She nodded. “Sounds good. I’m going to the lobby. There must be something we can do about these towels that reek of nicotine.”

Grabbing a couple one’s from my wallet, I made my way down the hall to the vending machine where I ran into Boyd and Stiles. As I approached, I could hear Stiles trying to talk to an unresponsive Boyd, who subsequently punched a hole through the glass of the machine, grab his snack that the machine refused to give him, and walk away.

“What the hell was that?” I asked Stiles as I walked up next to him.

He shrugged. “I don’t really know, to be honest.” He reached into the machine to grab his snack and tossed one to me as well.

When I got back to my room, a shaken Allison and Lydia were hurriedly talking about something. “Oh, y/n! You’re back. You won’t believe what just happened…” Allison started

She recounted the story of Scott’s bizarre behavior in the bathroom, and Lydia filled me in on the counter that they have at the front desk. “Can you imagine having a counter for the number of suicides that take place in your hotel? Crazy,” Lydia said. Taking her phone out, she sent a quick text to Stiles telling him that we all needed to talk.

We met him in the hallway a couple minutes later. “What was the text for?” Stiles asked when he saw our little gathering.

“There’s something going on with all the…” she looked over at me before continuing, “guys. You know, Scott, Boyd, Isaac, probably Ethan too.” I tried to connect the dots between all of them, but I didn’t really know what they all had in common. Scott and Isaac were both on the lacrosse team, but from what I could tell they didn’t have a particular fondness for each other or Ethan.

“I think someone’s going to die tonight,” Lydia said decisively.

“Why do you think that?” I asked, but it seemed like I was the only one questioning her line of reason.

She shook her head slowly. “I just...have a feeling.” After a moment of silence, she told us about hearing something from the room next to ours through the vent, so we decided to investigate it. Room 217 seemed empty and locked, but all of a sudden we heard the sound of a saw from behind the door.

Stiles busted the door open, and we opened it to find Ethan turning the saw on himself. “Ethan, stop!” I yelled as we ran into the room. Stiles started wrestling him for the saw, but luckily Lydia saw where it was plugged into the wall and unplugged it.

The next thing that happened was completely unexpected to me. Ethan grew fangs and claws, his eyes blazing red. What the fu–

Allison and Lydia rushed forward, wrestling his claws away from his torso where he had been planning on slashing himself. In the struggle he fell on the space heater, which apparently brought him out of whatever state he was in. He ran out of the room soon after. When we tried to question him about what he was doing, he couldn’t answer us. He had been out of control, and it made Allison realize we were forgetting someone.

“Where’s Scott?” She asked suddenly. When no one could answer, we all decided to split up – I’d go with Allison to look for Scott while Stiles and Lydia went to find Boyd and Isaac.

Scott wasn’t in his room. Allison and I ran all over the motel, looking in every crevice. At last, we decided to check the school bus, and that’s where we saw him. Standing drenched in gasoline, a flare lit up in his hand.

“Scott…” I approached quietly, careful to not make any sudden movements.

It was then that Stiles and Lydia joined us. I watched as Stiles walked into the gasoline, my breath catching in my throat as he nearly sacrificed himself. Scott was talking, but I didn’t really understand what it meant. He said that his life was better before the bite.

Stiles eventually talked Scott down, but the flare rolled into the gasoline. Luckily, Lydia was able to make sure we had all gotten out of the way. I’d ended up next to Stiles on the ground, and though we made eye contact, no words were spoken.

We spent the night in the bus because none of us could bear the thought of spending another second in that cursed place. Coach woke us up in the morning, definitely thinking the worst about what we may have gotten ourselves into, but whatever he was thinking wouldn’t possibly compare to reality. What was reality? I couldn’t have really told you at that point. I didn’t understand what we’d just lived through.

Before the other students started loading onto the bus, Stiles slid into the empty space next to me. “y/n, you know that all of this,” he made a grand gesture to Scott and the others as well as the motel, “is off the record. You can’t tell anyone about this. About what happened.” I held eye contact with him for a moment before nodding. “I wouldn’t tell anyone. To be honest, I don’t even really know what I would tell people, but I wouldn’t.” He nodded, a sad smile on his face as he looked down and fidgeted with his hands. “But Stiles,” I said as he looked back up at me. “Please help me understand it all. You can trust me, I promise, I just want to understand. I want to help.”

With a deep sigh, Stiles nodded once more. “Okay. I’ll tell you everything.”

When Stiles said he’d fill me in on everything, I didn’t realize he meant everything. I couldn’t believe how oblivious I had been to everything that had happened in the past year. Sure, I knew something weird was going on, but how was I supposed to know it was supernatural?

Finding out that my little corner of the world, little old Beacon Hills, California, had werewolves (and a kanima, pack of alphas, and whatever the hell a Darach was) was a lot to process. It was unbelievable, but Stiles helped me believe it.

I could tell that he didn’t fully trust me though. There was something in the way he looked at me that told me he was wondering when I would be done with my source acquisition and I’d write the next big exposé: Supernatural Beacon Hills: How Werewolves Have Been Hiding In Plain Sight. I didn’t know how to assure him that I was on their side and wouldn’t expose their secrets.

As the year progressed, things simultaneously made more sense and less sense. To defeat the Darach, we had to perform a sacrifice for the parents that had abducted, and Deaton – the veterinarian that had taken care of every family pet we’d ever had – told me I had to hold Stiles down during it. He said we had some sort of connection, but I guess that’s what mutual loathing does to people.

In the end, we won. We beat the Darach, the alpha of the alphas Deucalion left, and Scott became an alpha himself. But it was still just the beginning.

The sacrifice did something to Scott, Stiles, and Allison that we didn’t fully understand. Deaton said they left a door open, which only made it harder for Stiles to trust me because he could barely trust himself.

Knowing about the supernatural didn’t preclude my other responsibilities though. I still wrote for the Daily Beacon, much to Stiles’ displeasure, but I enjoyed it. So, on the first day of school I interviewed our newest faculty member – Mr. Yukimura. He and his family had just moved from New York, and his daughter Kira was in our grade. She was nice, but shy, so I invited her to have lunch with us.

Surprisingly, Kira jumped right into the conversation at lunch by mentioning bardo, the Buddhist concept of being in an in-between state.

After lunch, I caught up with Allison to walk to our next class. “Hey, Allison, could I ask you a favor?”

“Of course! What’s up?”

“Well, I don’t really know how to ask this but...I need help learning to defend myself, I guess? It’s just that I’m going to be helping you guys now, and I actually want to be helpful, so I want to protect myself so you guys don’t have to worry about me,” I admitted.

Allison smiled softly. “I’d love to help.” I returned her smile, suddenly giddy, yet nervous. “But, I think you should know that my...aim...has been off since the sacrifice.”

I could hear the disappointment in her voice. “Nonsense, I’m sure that you’re still the best shot in this school.” She shook her head. “It’s never been this bad.”

Touching her arm lightly, I gave her a reassuring smile. “We’ll figure it out together.”

A few days later, I was surprised when I was paid a visit by both Scott and Stiles while I was sitting in the library. “To what do I owe this pleasure, boys?”

“We need your help.” I perked up at Scott’s statement. “We’re trying to solve the Tate case, you know, the one where Malia Tate disappeared all those years ago after that car accident, and we could use your help tracking her down.” He looked over at Stiles and nudged him with his elbow.

“And, you can write a piece about it. Not including all the details, if what we think happened is true, but you can still write something factual,” Stiles said, still displeased that I was writing for the newspaper.

To annoy Stiles, I acted like I was really thinking about it for a minute, but then laughed lightly. “Yeah, I’ll help you guys. Where do we start?”

Pull yourself together, y/n. You’re a journalist. You’re supposed to report on tragedy all the time. Be objective.

I took a deep breath and wrote the first line for what would be the cover story of the next Daily Beacon issue.

Junior Allison Argent, 17, died in an unfortunate carjacking incident last fall.

Before I could write any more, I got a phone call from Stiles.

Oh, thank god. “Stiles?”

“Do you want to come with us to Mexico?” He blurted out.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my chest. “What? Mexico? Why? When–”

“Tomorrow.”

“Stiles, are you insane? Even if I wanted to, there’s no way my parents would ever let me go.”

“We’re all telling our parents we’re going camping, if that helps at all,” he said with what seemed like a hint of disappointment in his voice.

I was quiet for a minute, but my mind was already made up. “Why? And who exactly is going?”

“Scott, Lydia, Kira, Malia, and I have to visit some hunters and see what they know about Derek being missing.”

As soon as he mentioned Malia, my mouth started curling into a frown. It’s not that I disliked the werecoyote, it’s just that she and Stiles had been pretty full on since they hooked up at Eichen and started dating. I wasn’t jealous – though I’m sure Lydia would argue otherwise since she’s convinced I like him or something – just...weirded out by their relationship.

I sighed. “I want to help, but I really can’t tomorrow. School starts back up in a couple days, and I need to finish this elegy for Allison and come up with a bunch of assignments for the staff writers…” I trailed off, thinking about all that I had to do before the coming week.

“Oh yeah, I forgot. Ms. Editor-in-chief over here has a life outside of us,” Stiles joked.

Andrew graduated at the end of last year and left his glittering empire to me, though suddenly I felt overwhelmed at the prospect of running a newspaper while being way too involved in the town’s supernatural endeavors. It didn’t bother me last semester, but after Allison…

“I’ll just see you guys when you get back, okay?” I told Stiles. He made an unintelligible noise of agreement. “And try not to let anyone get killed.” “Yes, mom,” Stiles said sarcastically. I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

When the pack got back, I was surprised by the events that had taken place. “What do you mean it’s a young version of Derek?”

A few days later, I had to cover the spring lacrosse tryouts. Though I wanted to assign it to someone else, I had to do it myself because everyone was busy with the assignments I had given them.

To my surprise, a new freshman, Liam Dunbar, showed everyone up at tryouts – even Scott. I took note of how he seemed almost athletically superior to everyone, and I wondered if he was supernatural.

“He’s human, I’m sure of it,” Scott said as he came up next to where I was sitting on the bleachers, scaring me out of my mind in the process.

“Jeez, Scott. A little warning next time would be nice. But how do you know?”

He shrugged. “I can just tell. He’s just a really great athlete.”

“He’s going to be a great pain in my ass, I can tell,” Stiles said, sidling up next to Scott.

I took note of their reactions, writing down Scott’s comment – about being a great athlete, not human – to consider while writing my piece.

“Oh no, don’t tell me you’re writing a story about him,” Stiles groaned.

“You know I have to write one about the tryouts, and he just happens to be the star player of today,” I told him. “Sorry, Scott.”

Scott waved me off, but Stiles was still upset about the situation. “No, don’t give him the ego boost! He’s already a little shit, and an article about him would make it worse.”

Taking a break from my note-taking, I looked over at the brown-haired boy. “Stiles, have you even talked to him?”

He looked at a loss for words. “N-not really...but I can see his arrogance from a mile away!”

I rolled my eyes. “Well then, if you’d excuse me, I’m going to write up a fantastic story about a talented up-and-coming lacrosse player.”

The article became the next issue’s front page, but I almost wished I hadn’t given him as much attention when Scott turned him into his beta.

The rest of the year didn’t go as planned either, but isn’t junior year supposed to be everyone’s worst year?

As much as I liked helping out with the supernatural problems Scott and the rest of the pack were having, it was hard knowing about what was going on and not being able to write about it, especially when all of the mysterious killings started up. We eventually found out about the deadpool, but I could write about a kill list of Beacon Hills’ resident supernaturals, could I?

At the end of the year, I finally had to make the trip to Mexico with the rest of the pack. “Stiles, I’m going. You can’t stop me!” I attempted to open the passenger door of the jeep when he reached out and shut it from behind me.

“No, it’s going to be dangerous. We don’t even really know what we’re facing,” he tried reasoning with me. “I can protect myself,” I said, thinking of the training that Allison had given me. “Besides, I can’t just sit by and wait for you guys to come back. I need to try helping Scott.”

Realizing that I wasn’t going to back down, Stiles removed his hand from the side of the door and opened it for me. I nodded a quick thanks as I hopped into the vehicle.

I wasn’t expecting to fight Scott that day, but we all did in order to return him from his Berserker form. At the end of the fight, I had a few cuts and bruises, but nothing I couldn’t deal with.

As Derek drove away with Braedan, I could feel that things were changing. “I can’t write about any of this, can I?” I asked somewhat jokingly.

“Off the record,” Stiles replied from where he stood next to me.

“Stiles, what’s wrong?”

“Oh thank god, you remember me!” He said as he grabbed my hands. He’d been running down the hall frantically when I saw him.

I looked at him with concern on my face. “Yeah, of course I remember you? Why wouldn’t I–”

“y/n, it’s the Hunt. The Ghost Riders. I saw them, and now they’re coming for me.” He was breathing heavily, eyes sweeping the surroundings for signs of the Ghost Riders. His eyes locked on something to his left, but when I looked, I couldn’t see anything. “They’re here. We have to go,” he said, pulling me towards the parking lot. We got into his jeep, but he didn’t start the car. “Stiles, what are you doing?”

“It’s too late.” I could see the look of grief on his face. “No, don’t say that. It’s not–”

“It’s the truth,” he cut me off, turning to look at me. “Promise me you won’t forget.”

I shook my head. “I won’t. But Stiles, I can’t do this without you,” I could feel a tear escaping my eye and slipping down my cheek, my emotions getting the better of me.

Stiles reached forward and wiped the tear away before placing his hand on my cheek. “What do you mean? You’re one of the smartest, most inquisitive people I know. If I had to trust anyone to find a way to stop the Ghost Riders, it would be you.”

I couldn’t help but smile at his honesty. “Yeah right. Lydia will probably figure it out before me.”

He shook his head. “You can do it. I trust you.” I could tell there was more he wanted to say, but he turned to look at something through the window over his shoulder. “Can I tell you something? Off the record.”

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped my mouth. “Yes, of course. What is it?”

He took a deep breath. “I don’t hate you. I know it may seem like I’ve never trusted you or that I don’t care about you, but it’s actually the opposite. I...really really like you,” he admitted.

I was stunned. Stiles likes me? He was searching my face for any indication of feelings as I sat there silently.

“Oh, shit,” Stiles mumbled. “Ok, forget I said that. Well, you won’t need to forget when you forget me in a minute–”

I cut off his rambling by placing my lips on his. They were warm and familiar, as if they were made for mine. “I like you too,” I mumbled when I disconnected, my eyes still closed from the interaction.

But when I opened them, I was alone in the baby blue jeep.

All semester, I’d felt that something was missing, but I couldn’t figure out what it was. Or who it was.

But after months of searching for it, we finally figured it out. Lydia had gone into a banshee trance to discover the word “Stiles,” and it brought back vague memories for me when I heard it. The feeling of soft flannel. A sarcastic laugh. Red string around my finger. A hefty wooden baseball bat.

The collection of memories made sense when we all finally got our memories back and remembered the person we were missing from our lives.

We traced the trail of clues to the sewers, where Scott tried to bring back Stiles because of their brotherly love for one another. I thought it would work, but the portal closed and Stiles hadn’t appeared. Come on, Stiles. Where are you?

We had to fight the Ghost Riders off, making sure they didn’t turn our beloved Beacon Hills into another ghost town. I’d run into the high school, looking for something to use as a weapon when I ran into someone in the hall. A tall, brown-haired figure wearing a flannel shirt. “Stiles?”

He turned, and smiles emerged on both of our faces. I broke into a run again, right into his arms. “I can’t believe you’re here. You’re really here.” I mumbled, the sound muffled against his shirt.

“I knew you could do it,” he said.

I pulled back slightly and looked up at his face, suddenly nervous. “That night in the jeep...did you hear what I told you before you disappeared?”

A soft smile rested on his face. “Of course I did. It was the one thing that kept me going, especially when I was stuck with Peter.”

“Peter Hale? Why the hell were you with Peter Hale?”

Stiles shook his head. “We can go over that later. For now, there’s one thing I’ve been wanting to do.” I was a little confused, but I understood once he leaned in and connected our lips.

This is what I’d been missing, and I was never going to let it go again.

I watched from afar as Stiles gave his trusty baseball bat to Mason, who didn’t seem to appreciate the hunk of wood.

“Have you told him yet?” Lydia asked as she appeared next to me.

I shook my head. “We haven’t really had time to talk about that stuff. I think he doesn’t really want to think about it just yet and what that might mean for us.”

She nudged me with her elbow, silently telling me to go over there and talk to him. Rolling my eyes, I walked towards the familiar blue jeep and familiar mess of brown hair.

Liam and Mason had already walked away, and Scott and Stiles were standing and talking at the jeep’s trunk. “Hey, y/n. I’m just heading out, but I’ll see you guys later,” Scott said as I came up and Stiles threw his arm around me.

We waved as Scott left, and Stiles pulled me closer. “Hey,” he said, looking down at me with an affectionate expression.

I pulled him over so we could sit in the open trunk. “We need to talk.” I could see the panic flare up in his eyes.

“Oh, um, okay? Is everything okay?”

Chuckling lightly, I nodded. “Yeah, we just haven’t talked about college at all,” I explained.

His head dropped. “Yeah, I know. I just don’t want it to ruin what we have here, and I don’t even know what life will be like outside of Beacon Hills, and I feel like we just got together and now–”

“Stiles,” I cut him off. “I’m going to GW too.”

His eyes widened at my confession. “You...you’re going to GW?”

I nodded, a small smile on my lips. “I committed a while ago. I’m going to study journalism there.”

I watched as a smile spread across his face. Then, it was replaced by a quick smirk. “Oh great, you’re following me there, huh? I just can’t seem to get rid of you.”

I shrugged. “What can I say? I’m going to need someone to give me the inside scoop on the FBI’s antics.”

He looked pensive for a moment. “I think what you’re describing is illegal.”

“Not if it’s in the public’s interest. But maybe it just needs to be off the record,” I admitted. Stiles laughed. “Oh, it’s definitely going to be off the record.”

#stiles stilinski #teen wolf #stiles stilinski fic #stiles stilinski x reader #scott mccall #lydia martin #allison argent #hot take: scott should have brought back stiles in 6b not lydia #teen wolf fanfiction #stiles stilinski imagine #stiles stilinski one shot #dylan obrien #isaac lahey #dylan o'brien

240 notes · View notes

bruhstories · 3 years

Text

Dazed and Confused

Summary: You and Connie have been friends for ten years, crushing on each other like a bunch of idiots who can't confess their feelings for one another. Until you go on a trip with your friends. Pairing: Connie Springer x Fem!Reader Warnings & Content: 18+, language, oral sex (female & male receiving), unprotected sex, weed smoking, alcohol consumption, f l u f f Word Count: 4.2 k

A/N: I got so pissed at that last anon that I finished this oneshot quicker lol. @fiaficsxo here it is!

You loved parties. Not the loud music and thick smoke, not the booze and smell of vomit, but your friends. Every time they gathered at someone's place, your heart fluttered, filled with happiness and content and long-lasting memories.

Connie had the brilliant idea of spending a week in the mountains during your spring break, and you wasted an entire night searching for the perfect cottage to rent. Luckily everyone was down with his suggestion, the only problem was how you'd sleep. Historia obviously wanted to share a room with Ymir. Mikasa and Eren were an item now, so they'd have to sleep together. Armin wanted to try his luck with Annie, so no one objected to that. Jean declared that he wanted to bunk with Connie, like the two eligible bachelors they were, and that left you and Sasha to share a room together. You didn't mind it, in all honesty you loved Sasha with all your heart — but you secretly hoped someone would pick up on your feelings for Connie and let you sleep with him. You weren't that lucky.

You packed your bag the night before the trip, obsessively ticking everything on your list and double checking every item and pocket. It was ready, with one item missing — the white lace babydoll smoothed on your dorm bed. You chewed the pen cap, debating whether to bring it with you or not. You bought it for special occasions, but you haven't had a dick appointment in a long time, and you doubted you'd have one this week. With a shrug, you decided to bring it — you never know what might happen. Nighttime passed quickly and you soon found yourself all dolled up, albeit still sleepy from all the tossing and turning, excited to make more memories with your friends.

The train station was packed with people, especially students who went back to their hometowns for the break, and you were relieved to find Armin and Mikasa there. You three were always punctual, followed by Jean and Annie. Eren, Sasha and Connie were always late, which is why you told them the train leaves at 7 am instead of 7:30. It was a dirty strategy, but no one wanted to miss such a fun opportunity because of those lazy fuckers. And lo and behold, they decided to appear at 7:15.

"That was some good thinking." Jean shook his head, hand sympathetically placed on your shoulder.

"I'm only glad you guys rolled with it." You laughed without noticing the way Connie stared at you, and even he didn't understand exactly what he felt. Was he grumpy because he hated morning, or was it Jean's hand on you that irked him?

"It's not polite to stare." Sasha pulled Connie out of his thoughts.

"I wasn't staring, I was looking." Connie rolled his eyes, gripping the handle of his suitcase a bit too tightly.

"I just don't get it why you don't tell her you like her." The girl popped a bubblegum baloon, proceeding to chew it very loudly.

"Are you kidding me? She obviously likes Jean. Look how she's laughing!"

Sasha placed an arm on his shoulder, a sheepish smile on her face. "You, my friend, are a dumbass."

"Takes one to know one."

To say that your friends were loud during the train ride was an understatement. They didn't really care about the nasty glares other passengers shot at them, opting to talk, sing, eat and practically embarrass themselves. But two hours later you arrived, and the fresh, crisp air of the mountains was a blessing. You didn't regret coming, all of you deserved a break after all the exams, studying and all-nighters you guys pulled.

"We could visit the military museum!" Armin suggested, but Connie scrunched his nose.

"We came here to get high, drink and spend time together, why the fuck would we visit some old ass building?"

"I'd like to go to the museum." You awkwardly smiled, earning a 'see?' from the blond. Mikasa, Eren and Annie backed you up, and since it was a democracy, you ended up leaving your bags at the cottage and touring the small town to find the military museum. The building wasn't massive, and inside it was dark, with crimson carpets and dim lights. It was actually quite a romantic atmosphere, had it not been for the weapons and armours displayed in glass cases. Connie watched you intently, taking in every movement, every flinch, every hair tucking, every scrunch of your cute nose. You absorbed the information, hungry for knowledge. This was something you and Connie didn't share — yes, you were down to drinking and smoking, but you were also eager to learn and study, while he always preached how 'you can always retake an exam but you can't relive a party.' He wasn't stupid by any means, but unlike you, Jean, Armin and Mikasa — who alwaysstudied and never skipped lectures — Connie would wing it and somehow end up getting better grades. His strategy didn't always work, and sometimes, when you were in college, he'd ask you to tutor him. Now you were second year undergraduates, and while you were studying different subjects, you still made time for each other.

"That's a nice, uhh..." Connie squinted, "...shotgun."

"It's a musket." You chuckled, your fingers accidentally brushing his as you turned around to face him.

"Shotgun, musket, same thing."

"Actually, muskets are muzzle-loaded and fire a single bullet, but shotguns pack multiple pellets in one shell." You explained. "I'm sorry, you're probably not interested in my ramblings."

"No, no, it's... interesting. I just wasn't expecting you to know so much about guns." He rubbed his nape and smiled at you.

"Well, I do study history, in case you forgot."

"How could I forget that?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" You awkwardly elbowed Connie. Why was it so hard for you to just tell him your feelings? Oh, right, because you've been friends for ten years and if he didn't like you back, it would only ruin a great friendship.

"It means you brag about it so much it's kind of hard to forget." He told you, quickly realising just how insulting that sounded.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't know that's how you felt..." You sighed, eyes darting back to the weapons.

"No, I didn't- forget it." Connie shook his head. Well played.

Back at the cottage, with enough food and booze to last the group a month, you decided to stay in your room for the rest of the day. It wasn't the first time you had embarrassing moments with Connie, but this particular one made you anxious to be around him. Did he really dislike you that much, or was it just friendly banter? If you were to ask him, you could find out, but every scenario in your head had a bad outcome, so avoiding him for now was the smartest choice. Sasha pleaded with you to spend the evening in the living room with everyone else, but you brushed her off, telling her you weren't feeling quite well.

"Text me if you need anything." She told you before leaving. It was immature to act this way, you knew that all too well, but it wasn't like Connie cared, right? You eventually decided to go downstairs after finishing a long episode of your favourite tv show, your stomach begging for nourishment. As silently as possible, you tiptoed behind the couch. The hallway was dim, the sun had already set, and the only lights were the ones from the wide TV screen in the living room where your friends were watching some corny horror movie. You could cut the suspense and tension with a knife, and when you dropped a teaspoon, everyone jumped.

"Sorry, sorry! It's just me!"

"Jesus Christ, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack." Jean got up from the floor and walked behind the couch. "How are you feeling? Sasha said you're ill."

"I'm fine, don't worry." You picked the spoon up and threw it in the sink. "It's just a headache, I'll sleep it off."

"Good, we need you here." The man wrapped an arm around you. "You're missing how Connie's crapping his pants at this shitty movie."

From the outside it would seem like you and Jean were a couple, but the truth was far from it. You two grew up together, his family was friends with your family, and what you had was nothing more than a brother-sister relationship. Jean's little remark earned a disgruntled look from Connie, you quickly picked up on that, and so you playfully jabbed him in the stomach.

"Connie's crapping his pants? You're the one who almost had a heart attack." You grinned.

"Oi, that was only because you dropped your stupid spoon. I was invested in the movie."

"Mhm, sure you were."

"Hey, you sure you don't want to join us?" Mikasa waved at you from the living room. You pondered over her question. Perhaps it wouldn't be too awkward to sit with them.

"Alright, sure, why not?"

"Come, sit next to me." Sasha shuffled to the side, but what she really meant by that was 'sit next to Connie', because she shuffled to the otherside.

The following two nights were surprisingly quiet, all you did was play board games, watch movies and walk around the town taking pictures. The tension between Connie and you seemed to dissipate, and you both forgot the unpleasant interaction you had on the first day. But on the fourth night, that's when shit hit the fan. Annie and Armin left for a date, and Eren and Mikasa wanted to spend the night alone in their room, leaving you, Sasha, Jean and Connie unsupervised, bored and tipsy. There was absolutely nothing good to watch on the TV, and you almost wanted to scream when your friends wanted to play truth or dare. It was one of those games you despised, because the whole point of it was to put the players in uncomfortable situations. And you didn't like being uncomfortable, unlike your friends.

"Jean, truth or dare?" Sasha beamed.

"Dare, duh."

"Alright, I dare you to switch roommates for the rest of the week." She sipped her blackberry cider.

"Okay? So, I'll stay with Y/N, then."

Good lord, if looks could kill, Connie's would annihilate Jean and Sasha off the face of the Earth.

"No, no, you'll stay with me. Y/N will stay with Connie."

"Eh? Why does your dare involve us?" You asked, confused and curious of your friend's proposal.

"Because." She shrugged. "Don't pussy out."

"I'm not pussying out. A dare's a dare." Jean scoffed. "I'm gonna go take my shit in your room and shower."

"Y-yeah, I'll go bring mine, too." You got up, using this time to hyperventilate alone. What the fuck was Sasha even thinking? Was this some stupid joke? But your friends wouldn't harm you, so why would she suggest such a stupid thing?

You took a quick shower before curling up in the bed, blankets covering you from neck to toe. Connie wasn't back yet, and you didn't want to go after him, that would just be odd. You were hoping you'd fall asleep before he returned, to avoid any unnecessary fuss, but just as you closed your eyes, the door opened. Maybe you could pretend you were asleep? He struggled to find his pyjamas in the dark, stumbling over furniture and knocking things down, and you turned the bedside lamp on to ease his search.

"Did I wake you up?" Connie bit his lower lip, and through the dim light you watched the way his grey eyes glistened, the way his short brown hair was ruffled, and how the sage green t-shirt hugged his toned abdomen.

"No, no, 's alright. I wasn't sleeping. I can't exactly fall asleep." You clutched the blanket at your chest as you shook the intrusive thoughts away. Connie was your friend, damn it, there was no room for romance between you.

"I can sleep on the floor if you want."

"Oh, God, no, it's... stiff."

"Um, yeah, it kinda is. Alright then, I'll jump in the shower real quick before going to bed." He stumbled into the bathroom and you really wanted to fall asleep now.

But you couldn't. Every time you closed your eyes, Connie's face popped in your head. So much for resting. You tossed and turned on the mattress, trying to find a comfortable position to sleep in, but nothing helped. It didn't take long for him to finish his shower, and you mentally chastised yourself for not falling asleep when you felt him shuffle under the same blanket that was covering you. For a minute, you didn't utter a word, you barely breathed, afraid to disturb the silence in the room.

"Are you asleep?"

"Nope." You heard the click of Connie's phone and turned around. You couldn't see him, but you could hear him.

"Do you wanna talk about something? Until we fall asleep, I mean." You suggested.

"Hmm, sure." He turned on his side and you felt his breath fanning over your cheeks. You were too close to him. "Actually, d'you wanna smoke?"

"Aren't the others gonna be mad if we smoke without them?"

"They don't have to know. Besides, you and I never smoked together." Connie was already up, rummaging through his backpack with the flashlight of his phone. "And then we can talk as much as you want."

"Alright, I'm down."

You laid on the floor, your head next to Connie's as you looked at the ceiling, smoke leaving your lips. He took the joint from you, fingers touching yours and you blushed, the haze of the weed melting your worries away.

"Do you want me to skip the song?" Connie asked, and for a moment you forgot there was a song playing.

"No, I like it." You confessed. "I didn't know you liked Led Zeppelin."

"There's lots of things you don't know about me, Y/N." He passed you the joint.

"Okay, tell me something else I don't know."

"I like it when you randomly say historical or scientific facts."

"Didn't you say I brag too much about it?" You took one final drag before you stubbed the joint out in a makeshift ashtray filled with a bit of water. By this point you were high as a kite, every trace of rationality gone.

"That doesn't mean I don't like it." Connie smiled and you could feel it in his voice. "Now you tell me something I don't know about you."

"I can't sleep with open doors. It freaks me out." You sat up, a breeze blowing through the window sending shivers down your spine. "It's a bit cold, do you mind if I close the window?"

"Go ahead."

You got up and picked the ashtray up but before you could close the window, you stumbled over a chest of drawers, the ashes mixed with water spilling over your t-shirt.

"You okay?" He quickly crawled to you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I'm just clumsy." You laughed it off and waved your free hand. "I'll go get changed, I should have a spare shirt."

But you didn't have a spare shirt. All you had was that stupid white babydoll, and anxiety seeped through your veins. You couldn't exactly show up in that in front of your crush. And you didn't want to ask him for a shirt either. Fuck it, what else could you do?

You peeked out the bathroom door and saw Connie back in bed, lazily scrolling through his phone. God, this was embarrassing.

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed, but when your facial expression didn't change, he frowned. "Y/N?"

"Um, so, I didn't have a spare shirt and- Jesus, this is awkward." You opened the door and his eyes widened. "Is it alright if I sleep in this?"

"Oh, I get it now." Connie scoffed.

"Get what?"

"You were hoping you'd share a room with Jean, right?" He sounded almost disgusted.

"Excuse you? Where did you even get that idea?" You slammed the bathroom door shut, arms folded across your chest.

"I'm not stupid, Y/N. I've seen the way you two act. Do yourselves a favour and just fuck already."

You were speechless. Completely reactionless. The weed amplified your anger, but his words brought tears to your eyes.

"You... you fucking asshole! You think I brought this for Jean? I brought it for you!"

"Eh? M-me?" Connie was confused, and you were pissed.

"Yes, you. Jean's like a brother to me, oh my God! Ew!"

"Wait, so you and Jean are not in love with each other?"

"In love?? Connie, how high are you exactly?" You walked closer to the bed, arms still crossed.

"But- Fuck, I am stupid." He shook his head, the memories of you flirting with him flashing before his eyes. "I fucked up, didn't I?"

"A bit..." Your muscles relaxed and you sat on the mattress. "Really, Connie, I... I like you. A lot. But you're always giving me mixed signals."

"That's because I always thought you liked Jean!" He threw his hands in the air in exasperation.

"No, you're the only one."

"Huh, guess I've really been dazed and confused."

Calloused fingertips ran across your hips leaving goosebumps in their trail. Your hands roamed his back and the way Connie kissed you was better than any high you've ever experienced. He was touch-starved, and you were just as needy. His knee found its place between your thighs and you moaned when it barely brushed your cunt.

"I've been dreaming for this moment for as long as I can remember." Connie breathed into your neck, the hot breath tickling your skin.

"Me too, you blind bat." You laughed and he turned you over, hovering over you.

"'M sorry I didn't notice quicker." He kissed you again. One hand travelled lower, pushing your underwear to the side before he pushed two fingers between your folds. "Fuck, you're so wet."

"Well, at least now I don't have to finger myself thinking about you." You whimpered with a grin.

"Oh?" Connie arched a brow. "Is that what you've been doing?" He curled up his fingers and you threw your head back with a moan. "I thought you were a prude."

"T-there's lots of things you d-don't know about m-me!" You replied back between oh’sand ah’s, imitating his words from an hour ago. That only earned a sneer from Connie, his head dipping between your thighs. "Wait, what are you do- ooh fuck!"

His tongue lapped at your cunt, fingers pumping in and out of you, and you completely sunk into the mattress, moaning his name over and over again. You gripped the sheets, flexing the muscles in your legs as you squirmed and thrashed. Connie stopped and you almost crushed his skull with your thighs at the empty feeling. He pulled your underwear down and shoved the cotton panties in your mouth.

"Don't wake everyone up, Y/N. You don't want them knowing what a little slut you are, do you?"

You shook your head and Connie went back to circling your clit with his tongue, adrenaline rushing through your entire body with each lick, each suck. Tears of pleasure pooled at your eyes, nose and cheeks red from the thrill of your incoming orgasm. The way he was sloppily eating your pussy and moaning while doing it drove you insane, and within seconds you came undone, thighs trembling with delight. In fact, you were so sore you had to push his head back, begging him to stop so you could return the favour.

"You taste so sweet." Connie licked his lips. You don't know what possessed you to pull him into a kiss after you removed the makeshift gag, but he was right, you were sweet.

"Can I...?" Your eyes drifted down to his twitching cock, your voice soft and quiet.

"You wanna suck it?"

"Yes."

"Later. Right now, I wanna fuck you."

Connie gave you no time to protest, his elbow pushed one of your things to the side, the blushing tip of his cock grazing over your overstimulated clit, up and down your slit. Inch by inch it disappeared into your cunt and he let out a satisfied sigh. You bucked your hips, manicured nails digging into his shoulders with each thrust.

"Shit, you're so fucking tight!" Connie growled, head lowering to kiss you. You could still taste yourself on his lips and that only made you clench your spongy walls around his cock. That seemed to please him, because he rocked his hips harder and faster. "You like it?"

"Oh, God, yes!" You gasped, beads of sweat forming on your forehead as you clawed his back.

"Fuck, I want you to ride me." He gripped your hips tighter and turned you over. You tried your best to get in the new position without letting his cock slip out of you, and when you finally adjusted yourself, it was a whole new challenge. Gravity pulled you down, and his tip brushed your cervix, your eyes squinting at the slight pain. "If it hurts, stop-"

"No!" You cried out, your hands resting on his chest. You bounced up and down, the uncomfortable feeling slowly replaced with pleasure. Connie's hands traced your thighs as you rode him, another wave of heat flushing through your core. His palm met your cunt, thumb circling over your clit. "I can't c-come again!"

"Yes, you can. And you will cream on my cock."

The disgust words worked like magic and you flexed your thighs, bouncing faster, head thrown back, hair cascading down your back. "You're so beautiful, Y/N."

"Connie, I-" The words stopped in your throat, the pressure too much for you to handle.

"You what?"

"I'm- oh, God!"

"Atta girl!" He praised you when he felt your silken walls relaxing and your thighs quaking. The second orgasm was so intense you let yourself fall over his chest, dizzy and tired. You thought he'd give you a break, but Connie wrapped an arm around your back, holding you in place before giving your oversensitive cunt a few more thrusts. "Now you can return the favour."

You mustered up some strength to get up and kneel in front of the bed, between his legs.

"Please don't come in my mouth." You asked him before wrapping your pretty lips around his cock.

"Gotchaah-" Connie choked on his words when he felt himself in your hot mouth. You bobbed your head up and down, cheeks hollowed and eyes on him. You didn't break eye contact when you pulled away and spat on the tip, hand pumping his cock to smear the spit. "Hot." He mumbled before you went back to sucking. You felt the throbbing, tightening your lips around him and picking up the pace. "Y/N-"

It all happened in a flash — Connie yanked your hair and pulled your head back, thick ropes of milky white cum shooting all over your face and neck.

"Eew!" You scrunched your nose, hand under your chin to stop it from dripping down the floor.

"What do you mean ew? That's, like, a billion kids!"

"Actually, a fertile man produces around-"

"Don't start. Do not." He pressed his index finger over your lips. "Let's get you cleaned up."

You woke up sore, especially between your thighs, but damn, was it worth it. Connie wrapped an arm around your waist, mumbling something about how pretty you are, but you assumed he was still sleeping — or still high. The sun shone through the blinds and you squinted, annoyed by the brightness, and so you turned around, watching the way your crush snored peacefully.

"Cute." You smiled and planted a kiss on his forehead, waking him up. "Oh, I'm sorry!"

"Why?" Connie rubbed his eyes. "Waking up to you is a blessing."

You couldn't hide the tinting of your cheeks and the grin on your lips. "I didn't think you were the romantic type."

"There's lots of things-"

"I don't know about you. But I'd like to know those things. If you let me, of course." You bit your lower lip, eyes filled with hope.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He sat up, his eyes serious.

"I thought you'd never ask."

Okay, so maybe Sasha knew a thing or two when she dared Jean to switch roommates.

You walked into the kitchen after getting ready for the day, with Connie following behind you. Everyone was eating their breakfast, and Jean instantly dashed to you.

"Connie, bro, take me back. Sasha's leaving crumbs all over the bed! I can't sleep like that!"

"I can't, man, I wanna spend the rest of the week with my girlfriend." He sneered and you elbowed him.

"I forgot to mention Jean's overprotecti-"

"Your what? Hands off my sister from another mister, you creep!"

"Creep? You're the one who was sexting someone's sister last night." Sasha chimed in, mouth full of cereal.

"Thanks, Sash." Jean rolled his eyes. "For real, how did this happen?"

"You see, mate, when a man and a woman love each other-"

"Nope. I will not hear this."

#connie springer #connie springer x reader #connie x reader #aot #aot x reader #aot smut #aot x you #aot x y/n #connie springer x you #connie springer x y/n #snk #snk x reader #snk smut #snk x you #snk x y/n #connie x you #connie x y/n

244 notes · View notes

imhereformr · 3 years

Text

It had been years since he’d had to sneak in somewhere. Riven’s position as captain in the Magix Elite Force granted him easy access to just about anywhere he needed or wanted so long as he could justify his reason for being there. But this, he had no valid reason. It would result in his suspension, if not complete dismissal, from the force. He didn’t think he’d get caught – you couldn’t teach an old dog new tricks, but that doesn’t mean they forgot old ones – but even if he did, he knew he had to take the risk.

Nabu had been the one to tell him. About the relationship; the engagement; and the – in Riven’s opinion – far too rushed wedding. He wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. He did. He also knew he should just let her go, let her marry whatever the fuck his name was, but he couldn’t not try. She needed to know how he felt even if he was years too late.

Musa had been the one to break it off. It had nearly broken him; he’d refused to leave his room in his and Timmy’s apartment for weeks afterwards. Ultimately, she’d been right, though. They were becoming different people – growing apart – and it was better to break up now than wait until their different paths became too much and they grew to resent each other.

Musa had released her first album a year before they’d broken up. Her tour had been hard, with him having to stay in Magix for work and her being everywhere, but he’d thought they could survive it. Their relationship had already survived so much. Musa’s star, though, had only begun to shine. Over the years after the breakup, she only became more and more successful. Every bit of which she deserved, and every bit of which Riven had followed from afar.

She’d offered for them to stay friends once the wounds had healed but Riven had declined. All the news he got of her was from the guys or magazines. His therapist – he'd gone to see a therapist; Musa would have been so proud – agreed that it was best to cut her off entirely. Beyond the whole listening to her music thing, Riven thought he’d done pretty well at that. It had only taken him a year to stop looking her up borderline obsessively, he’d dated other people, he’d even had a serious relationship or two. His only problem was that none of the others were Musa. No matter how hard he tried, he always seemed to come back to her.

So here he was, the day of her wedding, climbing a tree on the side of the hotel she was getting married at, praying that he’d be able to find the room she was getting ready in before the ceremony started. And that she’d be willing to hear him out.

Riven managed to find an open window that led into the end of a hallway. He made his way through the navy halls, stopping to listen for her voice behind every single oversized door. Nabu, after some bribery and threats, had told him that Musa and the girls would be getting ready on the fourth floor. He’d begged Riven to think through his actions and not do anything stupid, but Riven was also certain that Nabu was on board with whatever his plan was. From his description of Musa’s fiancé, he hadn’t sounded too fond of the guy.

The sound of footsteps put Riven on high alert. He managed to duck into a broom closet just in time to see Stella turn the corner. Jackpot. The blonde swung her long, gently curled hair over her shoulder and punched in a code on the door pad opposite his hiding spot. From the door, he heard a sound he would recognise anywhere: Musa’s voice. Double jackpot. Now he just had to pray that the girls would leave Musa alone for at least a minute at some point before the ceremony started.

He stood in that closet, watching her door for close to half an hour when his saving grace arrived in the form of an older woman with greying brown hair piled high on her head and a clipboard in her hand. She punched in the code to the door – which Riven paid much closer attention to this time – and exited three minutes later with the five bridesmaids in tow.

And no bride. This was turning out to be much easier than he’d anticipated.

Riven seized his opportunity the minute the woman he assumed was the wedding planner and Musa’s friends were out of sight. The light on the lock turned green on the first try and he slunk into the room as quietly as possible. Musa was turned away from him, staring at herself in mirror. Lucky too because it wouldn’t have made for a very good winning-her-back moment for her to see his jaw drop and his mind go entirely blank.

Musa wore a minimalistic, figure-flattering white dress with spaghetti straps, a deep V and a low back. She wore very little jewelry: a pair of diamond earrings, her engagement ring and her mother’s necklace – the one she never took off that he’d recovered in Black Mud Swamp the year they first met. Her long, dark hair was curled softly, like she was a movie star right out of the 1950s. He missed her hair; missed running his hands through it; missed the way he could bury his face in it when they hugged so that the smell of her shampoo could envelop him entirely; missed the way she would play with her pigtails when she was nervous; missed the way her hair would fall into his face when she leaned over to kiss him before they went to bed every night. More than anything, he missed her.

“Riven?” He stumbled out of his memories and into present day at the sound of her voice. She’d turned to face him, the train of her dress bunching at her feet as she spun. It had been so long since he’d heard her say his name. He’d forgotten how nice it sounded. “What are you doing here?”

“You look beautiful” he whispered thoughtlessly. Musa lowered her eyes, her face flushing like it had whenever he’d looked at her in the early days of their relationship. She ran her hands along the sides of her wedding dress – the dress she should be wearing for him – smoothing out non-existent creases in the fabric. It made him smile to know he could still make her blush like that.

“What are you doing here?” she asked again, bringing her hands together to fiddle with her engagement ring.

“I...” Fuck. How did he do this? “...Should have written something down.” Yes, that would’ve been a good idea. He wasn’t Helia; words didn’t come naturally to him. The old Riven would have turned around and walked away, wouldn’t have even given it a shot. He wasn’t the old Riven anymore, and he wasn’t leaving this room without Musa knowing how he felt. He’d have to wing it. “Don’t marry him.”

“Riven, I-”

“Please. Just hear me out.” Her objections ceased, and she lowered the hand she’d put out in a stop motion. “I love you. I have never stopped loving you. I have thought about you every single day for the last seven years, four months and twenty-one days. Since the day you left. And every single one of those days, I have kicked myself for letting you go; for not fighting harder for you. For us.”

Riven approached her. With every step, he felt his heart beat harder, coming to a brutal halt when he stepped in front of her. Her eyes, for the first time since he’d complimented her, met his. She was inches from him; so close that the smallest movement would bring them together. The heels she was wearing made her taller – brought the top of her head to his lip instead of his shoulder. Had his mind been anywhere other than desperately wanting her to come back to him, he would have commented that she hated heels with a passion, and he’d always thought she’d wear sneakers with her wedding dress even if Stella gave her a headache about it.

He caressed her cheek with the back of his fingers, not missing the way she leaned into his touch. Her heart longed for his just as much as his did for hers. “You belong with me, Muse. You know you do. We belong together.” His hand cupped her chin, pulling her into a kiss. Never had anything felt more right than his lips on hers. The second they connected; he knew everything would work out. He could beat the worst monsters, defeat his darkest demons, save the most helpless and conquer the universe as long as he had Musa by his side.

Musa’s hands came to rest on his chest, balling her manicured fingers into his thin white t-shirt and dragging him into her as they lost themselves in the kiss. The longer it went, the more certain he was that she would leave with him right then if he asked her to. He would have too, if the planner hadn’t punched in the door code and announced her presence through the heavy door.

“Gimme a second” Musa managed to shout, mere inches from Riven’s face, before the woman had entered the room. The planner shut the door, informing Musa that she would be right outside and that the ceremony was ready to begin.

Musa stepped back and Riven had to wrap his arms around her to keep her near him. “I have to go” she whispered.

“Please, please don’t marry him.” Teenage Riven would be mortified to hear his voice crack as he begged Musa not to choose someone else, but adult Riven couldn’t care less. He would beg and plead and grovel if it meant that she’d stay with him.

“It’s too late. I’m sorry.” She laid her hands on his chest and pushed their bodies apart. He watched, heart shattering, as she stepped away from him. Her voice broke, tears pooled in the corners of her eyes and her lower lip quivered, but ever his fierce Musa, she stayed strong. He wished, just this once, that she would break. Musa stepped away from him and turned towards the door, gathering the train of her dress in her hand as she walked away. She wiped her eyes quickly before grabbing the door handle.

“Musa,” he heard himself say before she had the chance to turn the knob. A deep sigh and she turned to him. He’d never been good at reading people, but Musa he knew. She wanted him to fight for her, she always had, and, for the most part, he always had. He always would. He’d just fucked up that one time when it mattered most. “I’ll be out front. If you change your mind.”

She didn’t answer, merely shook her head and then she was gone, whisked away through the door and down the hall by the planner. Riven sat himself onto the nearest piece of furniture – a fancy-looking emerald green couch in the corner of the hotel suite sitting room – and dropped his head in the palms of his hands trying to stop himself from crying and shaking.

He hadn’t felt pain like this in years, hadn’t felt anything like this in years. He hadn’t been numb – he’d known numb before and that wasn’t what the last few years had been – but life had been significantly less vivid. Everything always felt so much more with her. The lows could be soul-crushing agony, but the highs were pure ecstasy and worth every second of pain. He would willingly suffer through millennia of agony for just one hour of ecstasy with her again.

***

Musa’s mind buzzed as she followed Christina, the planner, through the hall and into the elevator, down to the main floor. The woman – an absolute godsend in the madness that was planning a wedding and a tour in the same four months – babbled on about how adorably nervous Liam – her fiancé – was.

She’d met Liam three years ago on a talk show. He was an actor – had started off as a child on a sitcom and managed to make the incredibly difficult transition from child star to serious adult actor. He’d been sweet and charming during the pre-interview and through the whole taping. They’d run into each other again a year later at a movie premiere – she'd sung the main theme and he was close friends with the star. He’d asked her out at the end of the night. He was cute – tall with broad shoulders and sharp features, just her type – so she’d said yes. It turned out that he was also funny and incredibly witty.

She loved him.

Christina led her out of the elevator and into one of the back hallways. At the end of the hall, Musa knew she’d find her friends and father waiting patiently for the ceremony to start. Musa knew what would happen: Christina would put them in order, then cue her assistant to tell the violinist to start playing – Riven had always loved hearing her play the violin, they’d talked about having one if ever they got married. Musa couldn’t let that detail go. Once the music started, the double doors would open onto the ceremony room. Hundreds of guests would be seated in the room, surrounded by thousands of dollars' worth of flowers and floating candles.

Much sooner than she’d anticipated, it was Tecna’s turn. The purple-haired fairy – her maid of honour – turned out of the waiting area and moved up to the double doors at exactly the speed Christina had indicated; not too fast like Flora had or too slow like Stella – who, realistically, had been enjoying the moment of spotlight – had. Musa’s father turned to her, a genuine smile on his face, to ask if she was ready. Musa smiled and nodded.

Her arm looped through her father’s and Christina handed her the bouquet of exquisite flowers – arranged by Flora, of course. The woman moved behind her to spread out her train. As she neared the door, the guests stood for her. Her father nodded to a few at the back that he recognised, but Musa’s focus was at the front.

Liam stood with his arms folded behind him. Riven would always stand with his hands in his pockets or his arms crossed. Liam’s smile widened when he saw her. Riven only smiled when he saw her. Liam mouthed the words I love you and Musa felt a pang. She’d just heard those words in a different voice, and they’d had so much more impact. Musa smiled at him, repeating the mantra in her head.

She loved him.

She was at the altar. Her father was hugging her and whispering that he loved her and wished her nothing but happiness. Musa was stepping up to the altar. Liam was shaking her father’s hand. The photographer’s assistant was adjusting her train for the photos. Liam was smiling at her. Tecna was taking the bouquet out of her hands. Liam was reaching out for her hands.

Musa snapped out of her haze. Her hands were in Liam’s and the officiant was welcoming the guests. Please turn your phones off. Don’t take any pictures. It’s not every day you meet someone that touches your soul. All the cheesy shit people said at weddings. Musa ignored the man they’d hired as she played the scene with Riven over in her mind.

He still loves her.

And she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t compared every boyfriend to him. Including Liam. She’d also be lying if she said that she didn’t think about him when she was alone. When she was lonely. When she wanted someone to hold her. When she touched herself. When she cried. When she laughed. When she had news to share. When she wrote a song she really loved.

It was always him.

Pressure on her hand brought her back to present day. Liam was saying his I do. He was giving her that smile that, up until fifteen minutes ago, she thought she’d be happy enough to see every day.

Happy enough.

Was that really enough?

“...Take Liam Lukas Caffrey, here present, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do you part?”

“I...” Hundreds of eyes stared at her expectantly. She had two words to say. I do. It wasn’t that fucking hard. Musa looked up at Liam. At those pretty dark green eyes of his watching her with all the love in the world. “I...”

It wasn’t enough.

No one would ever be enough if they weren’t Riven. She’d tried to deny it, but it was true. And he was right. She belonged with him.

“No” she sighed. The love in Liam’s eyes turned to confusion. Behind her, Stella mumbled out a what. “I can’t... I’m sorry.”

Musa picked up the skirt of her dress as much as she could and walked away. She picked up speed with every step, desperate to get away from the prying eyes. Desperate to get to Riven. I’ll be out front. If you change your mind. Had he meant it? She rushed through the double doors, past Christina and through the lobby. In the corner of her vision, she saw the doorman standing to open the front doors for her, but she got there before him.

Lights flashed in her eyes as she pushed through the doors and onto the front steps. Her name was being shouted and paparazzi cameras popped at every angle, but she registered none of it. Musa searched the sidewalk for that telltale flash of magenta, trying to control her already heavy breathing and not appear as panicked as she felt.

He wasn’t sure why he’d even waited. It’s too late. That should be an obvious clue that she didn’t want to be with him. Still, he waited. He’d sat in her suite for two minutes trying to compose himself before sneaking out of the room and down to the lobby. He’d gotten there just in time to hear the music start. Part of him contemplated waiting, running into the ceremony when the officiant did the speak now or forever hold your peace thing (did they even do that in real life? It hadn’t been done at Flora and Helia or Stella and Brandon’s wedding). Ultimately, he decided not to. He’d told Musa what he had to say. All he could do now was wait.

Riven took a seat on a bench in the park across the street. He absentmindedly watched park-goers walk by, blissfully unaware that he was falling to pieces as the seconds ticked by. It took all his self-control not to think about Musa marrying someone else; to stop himself from physically and mentally falling apart. Old demons tried to claw their way to the forefront of his mind, to tell him that she wouldn’t want him, that his efforts were futile, but Riven refused to listen to them. He wasn’t that sixteen-year-old kid anymore, and he knew, he knew that he and Musa were meant to be.

Finally, after searching for what felt like an eternity, she spotted the telltale magenta hair forcing its way through the crowd. The joy that swelled in her was unlike any happiness she’d ever felt. He’d waited. Musa kicked off her heels and took off running towards him. He made it to the front of the crowd just in time for her to throw herself into his arms and pull him into a kiss.

It was heaven to feel his lips on hers, to feel his arms wrapped around her. Musa never wanted to lose this feeling. He laughed into the kiss and Musa swore it was the most beautiful sound she’d ever heard. Riven shuffled forward, lowering her onto one of the hotel steps as they finally pulled apart. The smile on his face could put the suns of Solaria to shame, but, as much as she loved his smile, Musa was only focused on his eyes. She loved his eyes; loved the way they shone every time he looked at her.

Riven rested his forehead against Musa’s. Those magnificent blue eyes looked up at him so lovingly, just the way he’d longed for her to look at him for all those years. Riven swore then and there, he would move mountains to never lose that look. He was so happy he didn’t even care that all the paparazzi were watching them. Let them watch.

“I’m so sorry. I was so stupid... I-” Musa started.

“It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

“Now and forever. I love you, Riven.” Musa pulled him into another kiss. Camera flashes went off around them but Riven only saw the stars that shone in his head every time she kissed him. He pulled away from her just enough to whisper I love you too, Musa before kissing her with all the love he could muster.

#im avoiding my other WIP #i started the AU #and season 2 #but my attention span is shit #so heres a oneshot no one asked for #winx club #winx musa #winx riven #musa x riven #rivusa #muri #winx #fanfiction #riven x musa

60 notes · View notes

theyreonlynoodlesmike · 3 years

Text

Melting Wax, Crawling Vines: Part 3 (Vincent Sinclair x Fem!Reader)

<- Previous Chapter Next Chapter ->

Warnings: character death, intent to kidnap, violence, abusive relationships, domestic physical and verbal abuse, blood mention, stalking, basically the reader has been in her own horror movie

Word Count: 3302

Basically, when I said this was gonna be the darkest thing I ever wrote, this was one of the chapters I was talking about. Vincent is coming the next chapter though!!

@meanduck

You were at your sister's house, and you'd almost been able to relax. It had been three weeks since you'd left your ex, three weeks since you'd seen him.

At first, he'd been heavenly. You'd cultivated your relationship, thinking that the pair of you were growing together. It wasn't until you'd been with him for a few years that you realized you hadn't. You hadn't grown together, he'd grown around you . He'd grown around your life like vines around a tree, taking root in your soul and wrapping tightly around your every activity. And, at first, you didn't even mind it. Your parents had passed away during your relationship and you'd only had your sister and him to keep you going. You thought he was simply keeping you upright, from falling over and being consumed by the earth. That he held you up and kept you growing. Until you found that his leaves were soaking up all your sun.

It'd been little things at first. Comments here or there. Things he would never say in front of your friends or your sister. Just things that chipped at your self esteem. Then, the comments became yelling at you until you cried. Then- You shook your head. You didn't want to think about the shiner on your cheekbone or your busted lip. You hadn't looked at a mirror in the entire week you'd been at your sister's. Usually, you'd been able to cover up the results of his anger, and you'd made sure to avoid anyone until it faded into something a little easier to explain. But a shiner right near your eye and a busted lip? One surprise visit from your sister was all it took for you to crumble, to tell her everything. You tried to explain that it wasn't his fault, that he just got angry sometimes, but she'd packed you away in her truck and had about a quarter of your things at her house the next day.

He had called. Over, and over, and over. Your sister picked up the phone each time, and had started hanging up the second she heard his voice after only a day of his insistent calls. She helped you build yourself back up, even if you'd only break back down the next day. And she even insisted that you file a restraining order. You'd been granted a PFA, and you'd finally gotten an official restraining order earlier that week. Some of your friends still couldn't believe what they heard, and you figured not all of those ties were going to last. Especially when he was in their ear. So, you spent most of your time at your sister's house, which had grown quiet ever since he'd been given notice. No calls, no voicemails, nothing. You were almost at peace living with her.

The pair of you were sitting in her living room, eating ice-cream and watching reruns. You'd reached over to give her hand a squeeze, a silent thank you. She'd decided to stay home from work that night, simply because you weren't sure you'd be able to withstand the night by yourself. She'd understood, and she'd told you,

"They can manage without me tonight." She was a waitress at the nearby diner, one she'd been working at ever since you were teenagers. She always made the same joke. You were the one that went to college, she was the one that waited tables. That was just that. Your parents hadn't had enough money to send you both, and you felt a little bad about it now, but you were sure you could make it up. Once school started again in September, you could help her pay for her house. Maybe she could take time off and take some night classes. Even if she assured you she was content with how things were every time you brought it up, you thought it could be good for her. Helping her was easier than helping yourself, after all.

When a commercial began to play, both of you groaned.

"They always pick the worst times." Your sister said as she fumbled for the remote. You leaned back, sucking on your spoon as you said,

"That's, like, the point. They wanna keep you in suspense." You said, and she rolled her eyes before she started flipping through the channels to find something to watch until the commercials were over.

"Suspense, my ass." She said, and you stifled your laugh with another bite of the frozen treat. She smiled at you, and, for the first time in a really long time, you felt safe again.

***

"I thought a beer might fit the occasion better." Bo said, and you accepted the drink all the same. He might've been right about that, and you watched as he flipped the cap off for you before handing you the drink. You took a long swig, having sat up, and wiped your mouth after you pulled the bottle away from it. You stared down at the green bottle in your hands, wondering where you should even start. At the beginning? You thought.

But where was that? Your first date? His first comment? The first time he hit you? You took another swig. You decided that that night was the only really important night. But you hadn't even pried open the wound yet and it already stung. You played with the rim of the bottle opening as you began,

"I wasn't completely honest with you, Lester. I'm not just moving. I'm- I'm running away-" You stopped yourself to take another swig. It was hard to admit, but how else could you say it? You were running. To a new town, a new job. A whole new life in hopes of abandoning him with the one you'd left behind. The boys had gone quiet to let you talk, but Lester pressed on by asking,

"From what?" And you grimaced. It wasn't a what. The monster in your nightmares, the person that had plagued your young adult life. He wasn't a what, even if he acted like it sometimes. Even if it would be easier to understand him if he was a what.

"A who." You quietly corrected. You stared down at the bottle, missing the look the boys shared. "I'm running from a who. He, um," You paused, blinking quickly to push back the tears before just screwing your eyes shut altogether. The palm of your hand pressed against the bridge of your brow as the images of that night flooded back.

***

Just after that feeling began to settle, you heard a sound of a car hitting gravel. Both of your heads turned and it only took a second for both of you to realize who it was. You'd both seen the car time and time again over the years. In a second, all safety had snapped. Your sister was launching herself off the couch, heading straight for the front door and scooping the phone up on the way. She was already dialing 911, but there was a pause. His car door didn't open and his feet didn't hit the gravel. You didn't have time to figure out what had stalled him, because your sister was already talking to the cops. She was already telling them about the restraining order and that he was here, unannounced. You were frozen on the couch, and all you could do was listen. Your heart was beating out of your chest and your mind was fuzzy. What was he doing? Why is he here?

There were a million possibilities and then one made itself clear, one that shook you and made a cold sweat appear on the back of your neck. Your sister was supposed to work tonight. You were supposed to be alone.

When that door finally slammed, you threw the ice-cream out of your hands the second you realized. He wouldn't come through the front. He wasn't stupid. You ran to the back, locking the door just as a dark figure appeared through the blinds. A silhouette outlined by the setting sun. Your sister was grabbing you, yanking you away from it as the handle shook. He was trying to get in. You could feel tears beading at your eyes, but your sister was slapping a hand over your mouth when you heard the glass shatter and tugging you under the dining room table.

***

You didn't have the words to describe what he was. He was a lot of things, and summing him up seemed just a little too difficult in your current state. You waved a hand, waving away their hands when they reached out to touch you. You didn't need to be consoled. Well, perhaps you did, but you weren't sure you'd be able to keep your composure if you were. You didn't want to cry in front of strangers, especially ones you'd just fainted in front of. Instead, you tried to focus on telling them what you knew. You started with how you knew him.

"My ex-boyfriend. He, um, he's really-" Psychotic. Abusive. Violent . "Dangerous." That was the word you landed on. "I left my hometown to start over and to, well, leave him behind. But, he," You stared at your hands, before you took another swig. "He found my new apartment complex. That's why I-" You said, gesturing your hand to point out the current situation. You heard Bo suck in a breath. You looked up, seeing that he was lifting his brows and shaking his head. When you looked at Lester, he was rubbing the back of his neck. They were quiet for a moment, before Bo gave you a pat on your leg. His tone seemed to shift, a charming facade replacing it.

"Well, y'know, maybe he just wants to talk. Just wants closure. I mean, you did date him, so he can't be that bad." Bo said, and your face fell. His eyes followed the change, and his own attempt at a smile faded. You knew he couldn't have known. That he was just trying to be polite and make you feel better. You knew you shouldn't take it personally or snap at him. But, you couldn't help the coldness of your voice when you said,

"He killed my twin sister. The only closure he wants is to finish the job." And you downed the rest of the bottle.

***

You and your sister had been hiding. Under the table while he checked the living room, darting towards the living room the second he went back into the kitchen. He'd been talking the entire time. Almost as if he wanted you to know where he was,

"Yoo-hoo. I didn't expect you to be home tonight, I'll tell you that. But that's fine. I'm here to take your sister home." You'd heard him head towards the other side of the house, back towards the laundry room and the guest bathroom. "A restraining order? Now, I thought maybe she was just going to take some time to herself. Realize how much she missed me. But I got that notice and, well, I knew you'd stuck your hooks in deep." You could almost imagine him wagging his finger. He was heading towards your sister's study. "Y'know, you two might be identical, but," He paused. You could practically see him shaking his head. "I could always tell the difference. My baby she's just- She's a little softer, ain't she? And she's got that smile." He whistled. "No wonder all those kids listen to her. She could stop traffic with that smile. She's here, ain't she? Well, honey, stop hiding, okay? Just stop hiding, and we'll go home. I won't do nothing. Promise." And you could nearly hear him cross over his heart. Your sister placed a finger over her lips, and you held a hand over your mouth to muffle your cries. As if she believed you might really sell them out, surrender yourselves to him. She peeked over the couch, before she was dragging you by your hand towards the central stairway. She peeked past the banister, her china closet and umbrella holder on your left. You looked around, making sure he wasn't coming back. He was being quiet now, and the silence made it so the only thing you could hear was your heartbeat thumping in your ears. You looked down. There, leaning against the china closet, was a wooden baseball bat. You wrapped your hand around it, tugging it close to you as you sister leaned close to whisper,

"We head for the attic, close the stairs, and wait for the police to come. Okay? Don't look behind you and just run." She said, and you gave her a nod. But, just as you rounded the corner and got halfway up the stairs, you heard the slap of your ex's hand against the banister.

"Gotcha." You turned, and you didn't think. You swung, surprising the man and hitting him square across the face. Right across the mouth. In all the years you'd dated, you'd never once striked him. You hit him again, the force behind the blow making him fall back and land on his back. You wanted to hit him again. Make sure he wouldn't follow you up the stairs. Make sure he wouldn't bother you ever again. A rush of adrenaline had gone through you, and you knew it would be so easy. One or two more purposeful swings and you'd never have to worry about him again. But your sister was yanking the bat out of your grasp and pulling you up the stairs.

He was down, but he wasn't out. The second the pair of you had gotten the stairs to the attic down, you heard the top stair behind you creak. Your sister had ushered you to go up first. To get to safety. But you turned around, seeing that, while his mouth was bleeding, he could walk fine.

"You bitch." He cursed, taking a step towards you on the landing. Your sister swung the bat, just as you did, but the element of surprise was gone. He caught the swing, and you hadn't been able to see the look on your sister's face as he yanked her forward by it. "Fuck you." He said to her, and you screamed a cry of,

"No!" As he wrestled the bat out of her grasp and threw her down the stairs. You stared, unblinking. People fell down the stairs before and walked away completely fine. And some didn't. Your sister laid in a heap, unmoving. You'd heard the sickening crack, the sound of bone crunching. A sound that let you know that she wasn't going to get up. She wasn't going to save you this time. You'd frozen, staring at the girl at the bottom of the stairs. At the face that had matched your own, but who's eyes had gone blank. He'd practically leapt towards you. His hands on your arms, his grip tight enough to crush bone. His breath was hot in your face as he spat out the words,

"You think you can leave me? You think what she got was bad? When I'm done with you, you'll wish it was you at the bottom of the stairs." But the next sound was the sound of a siren, and you watched as your ex's head swiveled towards the door. Again, you didn't think. You threw your head forward, headbutting him hard enough to make your ears ring and to knock him back. You'd hit him right in the nose, and it was gushing blood. His grip loosened and you pushed him the rest of the way. You pushed yourself to turn around, scampering up the stairs. You yanked the stairs up just as he tried to pull himself up, and brought the string with you. You sat there, holding onto the string so tight that your knuckles had turned white. You were breathing heavily, and a sob racked through you as what just happened finally caught up to you. You laid on the floor of the basement, the smell of dust clogging your nose as you cried. For the first time in your entire life, you were completely alone.

***

"You hit him with a bat?" Bo asked, a soft chuckle of surprise leaving his lips. You'd explained what happened, how he'd broken in after hearing about the restraining order. If Bo hadn't already refilled your hand with another beer, you would probably be mortified that you were telling them this much.

"And broke his nose." You said after taking a swig, wiping your lips with your sleeve once again. That was the only bit of satisfaction you'd gotten from the situation, even if regret outweighed it in multitudes. "I-I know it's not good to say this, but I really," You paused to take another swig. "I really wish she'd let me finish it. Then, then," The words were thick in your throat. "Then, she would've lived." You gestured with the bottle for a moment, your mouth opening as if you had more to say, before you snapped it closed. You were staring straight ahead, refusing to meet either of their gazes. Even if they seemed warmer than ever. "I should've killed that sonovabitch." You mumbled to yourself, taking another long swig until there was only about an inch left in the bottle. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. "I need to- I need to call my friends. Tell them what happened." You were moving to get up, moving to stand. But Bo was placing a hand on your shoulder and saying,

"No, no. That's not a good idea, darlin'." And your gaze turned confused. His voice was as charming as ever as he said words that disturbed you to no end. "Obviously, one of them is a rat. How else would he have found you?" He asked, and you stared at him. Perhaps you were drunk, or maybe he was truly right. You looked away, considering the idea. "Or maybe one of them didn't mean to give it away. Either way," He sighed, shaking his head. "The less people know the better."

"Well, I've gotta- I've gotta head home then. He'll think I'm- I'm in my new town-" But Bo was cutting you off again.

"Listen, honey, if I was a crazy psycho like that guy," He said, making a gesture with his thumb. "The next place I'd look for you is in your hometown. Now, you were gonna have to stay the night in Ambrose anyways, right? I haven't even started on your car." He pulled back, throwing up his hands. "And Ambrose isn't even on a map. So , the smartest thing to do is to stay here, in this house, until you figure out your next move." And maybe you were just drunk, but Bo was making perfect sense. Still, you said,

"I couldn't- I couldn't ask that of you. I don't have money to pay rent and I don't- I probably can't even pay for my car- "

"You're not asking, I'm offering." He said, poking a finger at you and then at him. "And, as for payment, I'm sure we can work something out. Now, I-" He looked up, glancing at Lester. "Wouldn't feel like a good christian if I just let you leave after hearing a story like that. You'll stay in Ambrose, and we'll look after you until you figure out what to do." And you could feel your lip trembling as you looked at the man. You launched yourself forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and hugged him before you could even think twice. He seemed surprised, and he awkwardly pat your back as you whispered a mantra of,

"Thank you." Over and over.

#house of wax #house of wax 2005 #vincent sinclair #vincent sinclair x reader #bo sinclair #lester sinclair

153 notes · View notes

mishasminion360 · 3 years

Text

Space Age Love Song, Ch. 1

A Mandalorian x O/C Fic

Warning: Language

Notes: I’ve had this idea for awhile now and decided “why the hell not?” It’s been quite some time since I’ve written a full fledged fic, but I’m going to try to remain committed and complete this one. I already have a good idea of where I want it to go, so that’s a plus. Readers, you’re in for plenty of Mando romance, fluff, angst, action, and suspense. I hope you enjoy!

He crashed into her life like a falling star. The brightest star in the cosmos.

Ch. 1: Crash Into Me

The world was always a lonelier place at night. Rural Kansas appeared much more desolate in the dark; the roads and the land seemed to stretch on forever, both leading to nothing. The whistling of the evening breeze was the only voice to be heard for miles.

A half-drunk glass of whiskey in hand, Sara craned her head skyward to gaze at the stars. At most times, it seemed, they were her only friends. At least there were plenty of them to go around.

Her shift at the Hillsboro Community Hospital had been a grueling one this evening. She had just managed to drag her weary bones home a little more than an hour ago and already the night was creeping into day. Though exhausted, she’d suddenly found herself wired the second she’d pulled into her driveway at nearly 3 a.m. Now coming up on 4 in the morning, she downed the rest of her whiskey in hopes of calming herself long enough to drop into dreamland.

She had no reason to be awake so late, or early, rather. Sara had no one to pass the wakefulness with. The last of the only family she’d ever known had vanished from her life nearly a decade ago, leaving her with nothing but an old country house in the middle of nowhere that was far too big for a solitary woman such as herself. That house and memories.

There shouldn’t be any joy in the thought of coming home to an empty house. No happiness at the thought of eating alone, sleeping alone, living alone. But, as it began to happen more frequently, Sara came to realize that this rush of adrenaline she felt upon returning to her solitary homestead night after night was from the hope that she wouldn’t be lonely for long. One night she’d come home and there’d be someone worth coming home to. Someone waiting for her.

For now, though, Sara pulled herself to her feet, blinked the stars from her eyes, and prepared to head inside where she’d climb the stairs to her room and finally sleep the sleep of the dead.

She had just yanked open the finicky screen door when she heard a peculiar thoom! Her tired eyes returned to the sky to see that it was ablaze with light. A star, like a white hot ember, arced through the night, tumbling, tumbling down. So bright. So fast. So BIG.

That is not a star, she thought.

Sara watched the object’s decent with her heart in her throat. What if it was a meteor? Or a guided missile gone astray? Should she take cover? Would there be enough time? Would it even matter? The time she could’ve spent moving was lost to an endless string of “what if’s” playing on a loop inside her head, and by the time her brain managed to squeeze a logical thought about running into the mix, the object was crashing to earth in the field behind her barn.

She felt the impact from her porch; wobbled unsteadily on her feet as a tremor passed through the ground below. She could see the glow of flames in the distance. With the threat of a wildfire from space igniting the field beyond, with her house and all its memories in danger, she sprang into action.

Sara darted inside and made a beeline for the kitchen, retrieving the fire extinguisher from under the sink. Then, opting to take the back door, she darted back out into the chilly pre-dawn and ran as fast as her legs would carry her toward what she could only assume was Fox Mulder’s wet dream.

***

So, it definitely wasn’t a star. It wasn’t a meteor or a missile either. Nothing in her wildest dreams could have prepared her for what she was seeing. It was in pieces and it was on fire, but even partially destroyed Sara could positively identify (having watched enough cheesy sci-fi movies with her gramps to do so) an alien ship when she saw one.

“What kind of Superman origin story bullshit is this?” she wondered out loud.

The flames licking at the wreckage weren’t too big, and the small extinguisher did the trick for the most part. The dented silver exterior was still smoldering in some places by the time the canister was empty. Tossing the empty red cylinder aside, she stood and stared at the UFO in a mix of wonder and fear as another round of incessant questions bombarded her brain. Should she call someone about this? Who the hell was she supposed to call anyway: the cops, a scientist, the news, or all of the above?

With a startling groan of metal and a hiss of pressurized air, a large door at the rear of the ship (or was it the front? She had no fucking clue) descended, assuming a new role as a ramp, or so it appeared. It was almost as if the ship were inviting her inside.

Sara took a moment to peer into the vessel’s dark innards, then shook her head. She’d seen enough Ridley Scott movies to know that going inside was a terrible idea. Blindly investigating a mysterious extraterrestrial ship is how people ended up dead or, at the very least, pregnant with an alien baby. She wanted no part in either one of those scenarios if she could help it.

The rationalist inside of Sara urged her not to take another step farther; practically shouted at her to turn around and run the other way. But the nurse in her wouldn’t, couldn’t allow her to abandon someone who might be aboard and may be hurt, human or...otherwise. Damn. Sometimes she felt like she’d chosen the wrong profession.

Taking a cautious step up onto the ramp, jumping a bit at the echoing of her own footsteps, Sara called out to the darkness.

“Hello? Is anyone in there?”

When she got only silence for a response, she decided to forge on ahead into the belly of the great metal beast.

“Okay, I’m coming in so please just...don’t eat me and keep your tentacles to yourself.”

The cavernous ship was as black as night. In the distance she could see lights blinking, like stars in the night guiding her way. Sara felt along the walls blindly and inched forward with small, cautious steps.

“If anyone is in here be warned. I do not like surprises and, so help me, if you jump out at me here in the dark I will punch first and ask questions later.”

As she drew closer to the flashing lights, she began to hear noise. What sounded like about five different alarms were blaring, but still nothing resembling a voice.

Suddenly, the floor seemed to rise by a foot and she stumbled at the sudden change in elevation. Her arms flailed dramatically as she desperately reached for something, anything to grab onto. Sara hit the ground hard and loud, her cry of surprise cut short as her head thumped against the cold floor.

Disoriented from the blow, she looked up and took in her surroundings with blurred vision. The alarms screamed at her from every direction, which was doing absolutely nothing to help her gradually building headache, and the lights blinked furiously in sync with the shrieking sirens. She could make out other objects now, what looked like buttons and knobs and levers and screens all illuminated by the incessant flashing of the warning lights. Damn her shit luck. Alone on this alien ship and she’d managed to stumble (literally) into the freaking cockpit. But where was the pilot?

Okay, maybe whatever had been flying this saucer never heard her, had no idea she was here. Maybe it was an unmanned craft. There was still a chance she’d make it out of this incredibly foolhardy endeavor alive. Stiffly and carefully Sara rolled onto her back, glanced up, and immediately screamed.

A face, or at least what she assumed was a face, more like a mask of some sort, peered down at her from above. Stifling another cry, she scrambled up to a sitting position and shinnied away until she felt her back hit wall. Even with that outburst, the creature didn’t appear to stir. After a few minutes of heavy breathing and vigilant observation, it didn’t appear that the alien was conscious.

Before she even realized she was doing it, Sara was on her hands and knees, creeping closer to where the sleeping being was collapsed heavily in what she figured to be the captain’s chair. Upon closer inspection, it looked more like a man than a monster. A man (or a woman) encased from head to toe in a suit of shimmering silver armor. Hell, it could have been a robot.

Through the small t-shaped visor in the dome-like helmet Sara could see no traces of a face. She had no definitive way of knowing if the spaceman was truly slumbering or just waiting for her to get close enough to grab, and for a moment she hesitated to move any closer. But when she saw the small trickle of blood leaking from beneath the helmet and onto the right pauldron, her fear instantly vanished. Definitely not a robot; a living, bleeding person. RN powers activate!

“Hey! Hey, can you hear me?” Sara gave the shiny helmet a light tap, trying to conjure a response. “Come on spaceman, spacewoman, are you with me? Wake up!”

His or her head rolled limply to the side as the blood continued to run. Unconsciousness following a vehicular (or spacecraftular) crash was never a good sign, but Sara couldn’t know for certain until she saw the source of the blood how bad the damage was. Gripping the helmet between her sweating palms she began to slide it upward carefully. Before she could even get it past the wearer’s chin, a hand reached up and wrapped around her wrist, stopping her instantly. She flinched, in surprise rather than pain; their grip was unexpectedly gentle.

“Don’t-don’t take it off,” a very male voice stammered weakly. “You can’t...”

Sara was momentarily stunned. The alien spoke perfect English, and in a voice as soft as their grasp. She shook her head to reorganize her thoughts. This situation called for the utmost professionalism. When you’re a nurse, first impressions are everything. And she wasn’t representing just herself at this moment, but potentially the entire human race.

“Sir, I...it’s going to be alright, sir. I’m a nurse. I can help you, but I’ll need to assess the injury. I need to remove your helmet in order to-“

“Please...”

Sara had entered this ship expecting to find a monster ready to frighten her. What she’d never anticipated was that the monster could be just as frightened as she was. And that’s what she heard in the spaceman’s voice: fear. He was scared. Of her. And that’s when any remaining trace of her own fear vanished. She reached down and found one of his gloved hands and squeezed it gently in her own.

“It’s okay. You’re going to be alright. I’m going to help you. You’re safe.” With her other hand she caressed one side of his helmet and tried to imagine that she were stroking his own cheek. “You’re safe.”

He seemed to relax a bit under her touch, but that may have been from the second wave of sleep overtaking him. Sara released his hand, took a step back, took a deep breath, and began mentally preparing herself for the task ahead.

Dragging a snoozing spaceman all the way to the house was not going to be an easy task, but it was one that had to be done. As a nurse, she’d be damned if she’d let a patient, even an extraterrestrial one, die on her watch.

Sara slid her arms around the limp man’s chest and began the first chore: hoisting him out of the chair.

“Welcome to Earth.”

#the mandalorian #original work #din djarin #star wars #pedro pascal

69 notes · View notes

dramionecommentfest · 3 years

Text

Reader Profile: Kiwi05622

The Dramione Comment Fest is the fest where readers take center stage! We’re excited to feature profiles of some of our readers throughout the course of the fest. First up, we have the most delightful and lovely @kiwi05622!

Location: Middle East Hogwarts House: Slytherin Pronouns: she/her When did you start reading Dramione? How did you originally find fics to read? I started reading in 2017… I think. Or was it 18? I'm not sure anymore. But one of those years lol! So yes, I'm still relatively new to the fandom. But I have devoured so much that it's come to the point where all the stories I've read have started to mingle with each other, and I can't tell you which story is which unless it had a massive impression on me and stood out. How did I find fics? I had this friend of mine, who was a closeted fic reader (I will never forgive her for not introducing me to this world sooner) that kept on dropping these obscure hints my way whenever Harry Potter would come up in our discussions, which was often. She would call me and ask what I'm doing, and my answer would either be, I'm reading HP, or watching one of the movies. She never once judged me or asked me why I'm spending so much time re-reading and rewatching, and I love her for that. One night, she got a little frustrated with me when I whined about NEEDING MORE of it, and she snapped. She was like KIWI JUST GIVE ME TWO CHARACTERS THAT YOU LOVE, and I shyly replied Hermione and Draco? She had the audacity to sigh (she is not a Dramione lover by any means). She sent me a link to Ao3 with a message "Welcome to my life, and I wish you luck stepping foot inside this black hole. Bye.” because I didn't know better. I didn't know what I was getting myself into, I clicked on the FIRST link I found, and this is how Bleak Manor by Pushthebutton became the first story that made me -surprisingly- fall in love with Dramione and fan fiction. How have you gotten more involved in the Dramione community? What platforms/websites have you participated in, and which do you like? I'm not VERY involved in the fandom, if I'm honest. I'm an introvert by nature. Even though I started reading years ago, I only started joining Facebook groups last year. From there, I stumbled onto Tumblr (which was the weirdest platform I've ever been on, but now I LOVE IT), which then led me to Discord. This is where I'm currently stationed. I'm not as active as I used to be on Facebook. I also reached out to many people on Discord and found friends that I no longer call "internet friends," and I find it easier to communicate to authors over there.

Tell us about any reading preferences or practices! Okay, I won't talk about my past habits, because looking back, it was really unhealthy. But I remember I used to read at every waking hour; I would only *sleep* to generate energy to keep ongoing: Goodbye food and social life. However, now, I dedicate time to reading, and it's usually 2 hours before I sleep. So I'll have dinner, and then open up my kindle and read until my eyes can't stay open. My days are usually spent talking to friends and doing many things that need to get done. I started off reading with my laptop until my boyfriend got annoyed by the bright lights emanating from my screen (honestly I didn't even think about reading from my phone). He later suggested reading from the iPad, and I stuck to that for a fair bit, until one night, I ran out of battery, and I couldn’t find the charger, so I reluctantly read from my phone, which I later obviously loved. I could read on the train, while making dinner, taking a walk (because we all need to exercise at some point). Then, after my boyfriend was SURE this wasn't just a phase, and I'll probably be reading for the rest of my life, he surprised me with a kindle, and the rest is history.

Do you like to leave comments? If so, what is your advice for leaving comments? If I'm completely honest with you, sometimes. I'm guilty of moving on from a chapter to chapter without taking a moment to comment. Telling myself that I'll go back and let the author know how much I enjoyed this part or that part. But I forget. Once I'm done with a story, I want to MOVE ON to the next one. However, in the past year, I've made an active effort to write down everything I feel on my phone while I read on my kindle, so I can go back and paste my review. That’s the other thing, I read SO much from my kindle, that it makes it so easy to forget to go back online and submit a review. And with Discord, I usually read with my friends, and sometimes the author will be there while we talk, theorise and flail all over their work. It's a much more interactive experience. I think authors would prefer that over a thank you. This isn't to say that a thank you doesn't go a long way or isn't appreciative, but honestly, how many times can an author say you're welcome? Or thank you for reading? This takes me to the second part of your question. The one advice I would give is, don't expect a response back. Do it because you genuinely liked it. Suppose we keep expecting and wanting the author to respond, especially if a chapter gets SO MANY reviews. In that case, it might seem disheartening to the reviewer, and they're left feeling unseen or that their review was lacking, which isn't the case most of the time. Tell them how it made you feel, which parts did you love, which string of emotion was plucked and left vibrating in your chest. Tell them that. But also, saying a simple thank you is enough. Personally, I would go to the last chapter and tell the author how much I've enjoyed their story if it's a story that was posted years or months back. If it's a story published years ago and they seem inactive, I would slide into their DMs and flail all over the story. You'd be surprised how many actually respond.

What is your all-time favorite fic you’ve read? ALL TIME FAVOURITE is such a difficult question to answer. So I’ll compromise and tell you which one I really really really LOVE but also list a few that I can't be parted with. If my room was caught on fire and I had all these stories in front of me and I had to only choose ONE I would say Risk Reward Ratio by @MissiAmphetamine and its sequel! Okay, I know I cheated, but *sigh* honestly I love it. And I’m not sorry about it either. It's not what you would typically hear because it's not really a fluffy story and there are some questionable actions, plots and let’s not start discussing their relationship. But you see, I enjoy a story that questions my morals sometimes, where I find myself asking “what would I do in this situation?” Plus, as you’ll see below, I have a thing for angst with a happy ending. That being said, I also love love love these stories and they each hold meaning to me, because I've read them at various stages of my life:

Redemption by @anondracomalfoy (wonderfully written story and very enjoyable!!! It’s a memory trope mixed with some suspense)

Revert by SUPRNTRAL LVR (this is when I found out that I can actually cry while reading a story lol)

Remain Nameless by @heyjude19-writing (I will FOREVER love this story and no one can taint it for me. If you ONLY knew how much this story means to me *cough* I spent every moment I wasn’t reading this making her moodboards that's how much it moved me *cough*)

The Art of Betrayal by @hathawaywrites

Across The Hall by @takingflight48 (this one just hold a special place in my heart)

Thirteenth Night by Nelpher (This is the story that changed my mind about memory loss trope which is my LEAST favourite)

Nightmares and Nocturnes by @olivieblake (one of the most creative and unique war stories ever written)

Hindsight by @floorcoaster (This changed my mind about T rated stories)

Broken by @inadaze22 (this taught me a lesson to READ THE TAGS, but the pain was worth it)

Sugar and Spice by @inlovewithforever (ummmm do I need to say more? This is one of the best triads I've ever read)

Looking Glass by @kyonomiko (Every time I'm in a rut I go back to THIS and it never fails to bring me back to life and remind me why I fell in love with these two. It's light hearted, funny and has my second OTP. it's a win-win for me)

Find Your Way Back by @willhavetheirtrinkets (Musyc) (I will forever rec this story to everyone)

Pound of Flesh by @pennilynnovus (HELLO STRIPPER DRACO! This one tore my heart out, I love it!)

Honestly, the list can go on and on and on. There are just SO many good ones out there that I haven't mentioned yet, but I wanted to list only a few that I will always go back and re-read. Also, just because I haven't mentioned the ones that we keep seeing everywhere, doesn't mean I didn't enjoy them or loved them!

What fic gave you the most feels? Definitely “Risk Reward Ratio.” It gave me SO much feels. Some were good, and some were pretty bad. It took me on a wild roller coaster ride. I was happy, sad, angry, happy, sad, angry. I laughed hard in some places, I cried even harder in others, I wanted to pull my hair out MOST of the time, and some parts were oh so good the butterflies wouldn't settle the fuck down. But ehh I like what I like, and I'm unapologetic about it. :D

Who is your favorite side character from any Dramione fic? This one is easy! Theo-fucking-Nott! Without a shadow of a doubt. You want to make him the most awesome sidekick character, go right ahead. The best bro, be my guest. The one that has secret feelings for Hermione? GIVE ME THAT TRIAD!!!!! You dare to make him evil? FUCK YES! I'm SO here for it. Even if he is one, I will STILL love him. I always get slightly giddy when Theo makes an appearance, and I tend to enjoy the story that much more. He's an interesting character to me because he's ambiguous. Canon never gave us much about his personality and reading how everyone interprets him makes him one the most versatile characters in my humble opinion. :D

Last question: Do you really like kiwis?? Hahaha!!!! Yes, I really do. This name was given to me by the people who were worried I had a mild obsession with kiwis. You don't have to ask me what I need from the store, because my answer would always be “we've run out of kiwis, BRING ME SOME MORE.” However, let me just make it clear that I'm not a heathen and I don't eat them with their skin on (no judgment if you do).

Thank you so much, Kiwi, for sharing with us! The Dramione community is lucky to have you <3

Don’t forget, sign ups for the Dramione Comment Fest close February 6, 2021. Check out the rules here and sign up for the fest here.

#dramione comment fest #dramione #dramione fanfic #dramione fest #reader profile #we heart readers #kiwi is the best #we heart kiwi #dramione fanfic recommendations

49 notes · View notes

yumeka36 · 3 years

Text

Thoughts on Rebuild of Evangelion (all movies plus ending interpretation)

*Artwork credited to リオ on pixiv*

Now that Evangelion 3.0+1.0 Thrice Upon a Time, the last movie of the Rebuild of Evangelion saga, has been released, I'm finally ready to discuss all the movies as a whole, including my interpretation of the ending...

MAJOR SPOILERS AHEAD!

I've been a fan of Evangelion for nearly 20 years, starting back in 2002. After hearing the series praised by some classmates, I asked for the DVD set of the original TV anime for Christmas that year. I was 15 years old and a fairly new anime fan at the time, so naturally I was blown away by the show. The Internet was young then, and since there were no fandom wikis or YouTube explanation videos available in those days, I had to rely on a few scattered fan sites and my own resources (mostly bonus features on the old DVDs) to try and figure out the lore and symbolism. Even though many aspects of the series, as well as the eventual "true ending" movie, End of Evangelion, left me scratching my head, I still loved it and it left a long-lasting impression on me. And now, here I am almost two decades later, sharing my thoughts about the new movies...

-Before Thrice Upon a Time was released, I hadn't touched Evangelion since 3.33 came out in 2012. I had forgotten many details, and since Evangelion is a franchise that is fraught with nuances and subtleties that can be key to understanding what the heck is going on, I wanted to watch all the Rebuild movies again before watching Thrice Upon a Time. So I plowed through all four movies this week, and I gotta say, after being away from the franchise for so many years, I'm happy to report that I still thoroughly enjoyed it. But I can also recognize that it is definitely not a series for everyone. The drawn-out technobabble, constant introduction of lore jargon with little to no explanation, and the ambiguity between what's real and what's symbolic, can certainly turn off casual viewers (it gives Kingdom Hearts lore a run for its money!) Funnily enough, as I was watching the Rebuild movies, I was thinking, "I understood the lore better 20 years ago than I do now, lol" (maybe it's because I was younger and didn't have as strong of a theorizing mind as I do now!) But after reading through a bunch of pages on the EvaGeeks Wiki, I learned enough to get a gist of the story's vaguer elements. But unfortunately, the fact that information necessary for understanding the plot can only be found by Internet research, could certainly be a turn-off for viewers. But at the same time, for those willing to make the commitment, or at least appreciate the series' other qualities even if you can't follow many aspects of the lore, it's definitely an anime unlike any other. There's a reason it's been such a well-known franchise in Japan for so long.

-Asuka has been one of my favorite anime characters ever since I saw the original Eva TV series, and thankfully, I'm happy with what they did with her character in the Rebuild movies. My only complaint is that I preferred her original backstory that emphasized her relationship with her mother, rather than having a "clone-complex" similar to Rei. However, her character development in this new storyline made up for it. The Rebuild movies really nailed her abrasive, no-nonsense personality that hides depth within. There were also more scenes that showed her "softer" side, something I always felt was lacking in the original series, such as when she confides in Misato towards the end of 2.22 and when she confesses her feelings to Shinji in Thrice Upon a Time. I also felt her initial dislike for Shinji and Rei was a bit more warranted this time; despising the fact that they were able to become Eva pilots purely by connection to Gendo while she had to work hard for it. But again, we get more hints at her kinder side when she makes the sacrifice to help Rei get Shinji and Gendo together. This is pretty contrasting to the original series, where she was always oozing hate for Rei. Even their infamous elevator scene ended differently in 2.22 compared to the TV series, where instead of hitting and yelling at Rei, she agrees to help her (in her subtle, Asuka-way). Asuka and Rei also had a brief scene together when they were at Village 3 in Thrice Upon a Time, and the way Asuka talked to her made me feel like she actually cared about her, or at least didn't hate her. But even with the Rebuild movies giving Asuka more scenes to show her goodness, they still stayed true to her tough-love personality - it's not like she suddenly started smiling a lot, or gave Shinji a passionate hug, or broke out in tears...they developed her character without making her do a 180 change, which I appreciated. Even in her final scene with Shinji on the beach before he saves her (loved that scene, and the shoutout to End of Eva there) she still reacted in her "tsundere" way (though not as harshly of course). I'd also like to mention that they made the fourteen year time-skip in 3.33 very believable in terms of Asuka's growth. I really liked the hardened, lone-wolf, protector role she had in Thrice Upon a Time because it makes sense - fourteen years had passed and she not only matured during that time, but she had spent all those years being the sole Eva pilot along with Mari fighting to protect humanity, so settling into that kind of identity makes sense for her. But yeah, Asuka's always been a great character, and the Rebuild movies made her even more awesome in my opinion.

-When I first watched 2.22 years ago when it came out, I was puzzled that they decided to put Asuka in the Eva that Unit-01 ends up destroying rather than Toji. But looking back on it it now, it worked better since they had a plan for Toji's character that had nothing to do with the Evas. I did kind of miss Asuka's friendship with Hikari though (they could have tied that into her staying with Toji and Hikari at Village 3 instead of with Kensuke). I actually wrote a WYDS fanfic for End of Evangelion way back in 2003 that emphasizes Asuka and Hikari's friendship (that's somehow still on Fanfiction.net!) But she got a friendship with Mari instead, so it's fine, lol (I also liked that they removed her crush on Kaji, which I never thought fit well in the original series). But I do wish we got to see what was going through her mind while she was stuck in the Eva and getting attacked by Unit-01. We know she was aware of what was going on because she knew what Shinji did (that he didn't try to save her or attack) so it would have been nice to see a scene or two of her reactions.

-Misato was always my second favorite character after Asuka, but I wasn't thrilled with the coldness she exhibited towards Shinji after the time-skip in 3.33. I know she probably got hardened after all those years and maybe still felt resentment towards him for initiating Near Third Impact (which killed Kaji among others). But even so, I felt like her coldness was more to keep the suspense rather than stay true to her character (plus she was the one encouraging him to do what we wanted at the time of Near Third Impact). It makes sense for Asuka to be cold to Shinji, since she was always standoffish like that, but Misato was always shown to be a source of warmth and the most "human" of the characters. But at least she made up with Shinji in the end and got to finish her story arc with a bang (literally).

-I'm not sure if it's still a thing now, but back in the day, Shinji got a lot of hate from anime fans for being too whiny and indecisive when confronted with his task of piloting the Eva. But even all those years ago, I always thought those reactions made him believable. Maybe it's because he's compared to anime shonen heroes like Naruto and Luffy, who are always cheerful and brimming with motivation, while Shinji is pretty much the opposite of those kinds of characters. But it makes sense for him to be like that...if I were a fourteen-year old kid who never knew my mother, had a father who abandoned me, and had to live on my own in a crumbling world while witnessing death and destruction all around, I'd be pretty hesitant and scared too. He's definitely not a "wish-fulfilling" protagonist like many shonen and super heroes are, but a protagonist grounded more in reality, representing a disillusioned youth. So it was nice to see him finally get over his insecurities and be proactive with saving everyone at the end of Thrice Upon a Time (compared to everyone giving him the pep talk at the end of the original series). Though I did think his personality shift was a bit abrupt...he was at his lowest point at the beginning of Thrice Upon a Time, but the one kind gesture from Rei seemed to immediately snap him out of it. A little more gradual build-up to his change would have been better, but it's a nitpick.

-Mari was an enigma in 2.22 and 3.33, so I was hoping Thrice Upon a Time would give us her origin story. Unfortunately, it didn't offer much and maybe brought up more questions than not. My main question is, we see that she knew Gendo and Yui when they were younger, yet if she was their age then, that doesn't match up to the age she appears to be when Shinji first meets her. So she must have been afflicted with the "Eva curse" all those years back, which means she must have become an Eva pilot around that time, but it seems too soon. I thought the first Evangelion pilots didn't exist until after Yui died, so Mari should have been older...I don't know, I'm still having trouble figuring out her place in the timeline. But besides that, I did like her relationship with Asuka that we see in Thrice Upon a Time. Again, it makes sense in terms of the time-skip that they'd develop a good friendship after spending all those years being Eva pilots together.

-I don't have a lot to say about Rei, since I feel her story arc is one of the simpler ones (which isn't saying much for this series, lol). The scenes of her in Village 3 in Thrice Upon a Time were endearing, though I knew they would end in tragedy. Actually, that whole part of the movie with the characters spending time in the village was great. The world-building in those scenes was fantastic too - it really felt like what a post-apocolyptic survival camp in that situation would be like. It was nice to see the characters partaking in and reacting to situations that don't have to do with Angels and Evas (spin-off series for this when?)

-And lastly, how did I interpret the end of the Rebuild saga? Was I satisfied with how it ended? Right after I watched Thrice Upon a Time, I wasn't totally sure. But after reading some more wiki pages and watching some explanation videos, especially this one here (it's a great explanation if you can forgive the bad pronunciation of the names), I've realized just how brilliant of a conclusion it is. There's been speculation that the story involves a time loop, with the events of the original TV series, as well as the Death & Rebirth and End of Evangelion movies, being different versions of the time loop, while the Rebuild movies is where the loop ends because Shinji finally overcomes the pain of his past and can restore the world this time (while he had failed to in the previous loops). I don't think it's a time loop so much as a cycle that keeps resetting and repeating. Further support for this theory is that Kaoru acts like he's met Shinji before, since he's reborn in each cycle to meet Shinji only to be killed by him later (all the coffins seen on the moon are for his past/future selves). I think the final movie title is symbolic of this too, with "Thrice Upon a Time" meaning "three times upon a time," the three times being the three cycles of the Evangelion story: the original TV series, the movies Death & Rebirth and The End of Evangelion, and finally the Rebirth movies. But mostly, the scene towards the end where Shinji meets Rei in the anti-verse, and they're standing in what appears to be a filming room while projected images from the Eva TV series are shown behind them. This to me symbolizes that the original Eva series exists in the Rebuild movies as one version of the cycle, and Shinji has now finally broken out of the loop. Once Shinji has saved everyone, the filming room (which symbolizes the old versions of the story, as I believe it's supposed to be the room where live-action footage used in previous Eva works was filmed) fades away and the literal animation around Shinji begins to break down into its purest forms, as key animation, then layouts, etc., - a near 4th wall-breaking depiction of the world resetting. However, Gendo and Yui had sacrificed themselves so that Shinji wouldn't have to, so Mari is able to pull him back into the world, just like she had promised. In the end, Shinji is able to join his friends in the new world that's free of Evas. Without the Eva curse, all the pilots are now their proper ages as well. The movie closes with Mari and Shinji heading off somewhere in their new lives while the environment merges into live-action footage, representing the fact that the story has now transcended animation and is now "real" because the cycle has finally ended and a true Neon Genesis took place. Like many aspects of the franchise, there are many ways to interpret this ending, but this is the interpretation I've settled on.

-While I am satisfied with the ending overall, I do wish the epilogue showed us more of what the other characters were doing, especially the survivors from Wille and Village 3. I know we can assume they're living out their lives as well, but it would have been nice to get confirmation of that with a few quick cameos. But there are some main characters whose fates are uncertain, particularly Misato, Kaji, and Fuyutsuki. I'm assuming the only people Shinji was able to save were the ones whose souls were still bound to Evas, namely Asuka, Rei, and Kaoru. I don't know about Kaji since I'm still not clear on exactly how he died. Maybe Shinji couldn't save Misato because she died "for real" and wasn't just trapped inside an Eva/Angel. But it is implied that many souls, not just Eva pilots, were saved when the world was restored...so maybe she was too? And like Kaji, I'm not sure what happened with Fuyutsuki. Did he turn into LCL because he gave up his humanity in some way, like Gendo? I'm also a little salty that we didn't get a decent shot of adult Asuka at the train station, lol. I'm not sure if the ending was hinting at Mari and Shinji being an item...possibly Rei and Kaoru too, maybe even Asuka and Kensuke. Like many things in the franchise, the eventual pairings, or lack thereof, could be interpreted in many ways.

In conclusion, while there were some aspects of the old Eva TV series and movies that I liked better, the Rebuild movies overall did an excellent job of retelling the story with the same rich lore and thought-provoking symbolism that we're used to for the franchise, but with enough new twists to make it stand out. And as I mentioned in my interpretation of the ending, these movies weren't just a retelling but a redefinition of the franchise as whole, bringing together the previous versions of the story and giving them true closure. Though we could see some spin-off material at some point, Thrice Upon a Time does seem like it was intended to be the final installment of the Evangelion series. While I was satisfied enough with the endings for the TV series and End of Eva movie, having watched the Rebuild movies, I do believe they're the "retelling we didn't know we needed." It's a tad bittersweet to know that such an influential franchise, and one of my favorite anime for years, has come to its true end. So, to translate the text in the below fan art...

"Thank you , Evangelion."

*Artwork credited to リオ on pixiv*

#evangelion 3.0+1.0 #neon genesis evangelion #evangelion #rebuild of evangelion #evangelion spoilers #rei ayanami #asuka shikinami langley #shinji ikari #evangelion thrice upon a time

7 notes · View notes

travel-hopefully · 3 years

Text

A collective post of everything I watched on Netflix in 2020

I finally found the watch history function on Netflix which I wanted in order to reminisce over the TV/film I watched over the last year, including the good and the bad. I’ve included a little round-up of my thoughts for each, as lockdown has got me with plenty of time on my hands. If anyone has watched any of the below feel free to give me a message- happy to discuss anything!

Travelers (season 3) - this was an unforgettable show with some great characters and definitely put me through hell (in a good way), I am a David x Marcy shipper for sure!

IT Crowd (season 4 & 5) - my favourite comedy show ever, and I mean the UK version

Explained (random episodes) - interesting bite-sized episodes on a variety of topics

Sherlock (season 3 & 4) - it kinda went downhill from season 4...and doesn’t help that there is no season 5 in sight

Unforgettable - must be pretty forgettable cause I couldn’t remember watching, a typical revenge plot romp I think

The Mind, Explained - same as for Explained above, except more pyshcological

You (season 2) - binge-worthy! I love to hate Joe Goldberg.

Don’t F**k with Cats - wow, this was disturbing but so gripping.

Jumanji: Welcome to the Jungle - geniunely a good remake and rather amusing

Sex, Explained - as for Explained but a little more intriguing ;)

The Stranger (season 1) - full of suspense and a good binge watch but ultimately full of plot holes with an unsatisfying conclusion

Gavin & Stacey (season 3) - a classic which I only started watching in 2019

Sex Education (all of it) - comedy gold!

Unbelievable (limited series) - very harrowing, an emotional rollercoaster based on a real-life rape case

Atypical (all of it) - light-hearted and fun to binge

The Sinner (season 1) - it was okay... wasn’t spectacular compared to other similar dramas I’ve seen

Love Is Blind (season 1) - cringey but satisfying

In the Shadow of the Moon - I hardly remember this one :)

Dunkirk - a stand-out historical movie

The Stepfather - typical killer stepfather plot but rather enjoyable

The Super - an interesting premise, but not that super

Saw VI - all gore not much plot

Doctor Who (random episodes) - no words needed :D

Louis Theroux and Louis Theroux’s Weird Weekends (random episodes) - I love his style of interviewing - what a man!

The Revenant - a lot of... well, not much

Nightcrawler - it was decent, but something was missing which I couldn’t put my finger on

How To Get Away With Murder (seasons 1-5) - probably my biggest new watch of the year, a rollercoaster of suspense, drama and murder, another season to go...

Ocean’s Eleven - fun but cheesey

Blumhouse’s Truth or Dare - creepy faces and an interesting ending

Eli - it started one way then went another, I wasn’t convinced

Star Trek (2009) - I couldn’t really get into this one...

In the Tall Grass - a lot of running around in grass

Bloodride (season 1) - i loved this, a quirky idea, i binged it

Apostle - intense, a satisfying religious cult horror

The Platform - great idea, not sure on the ending

What Keeps You Alive - what happened in this one again?

History 101 - didn’t watch many episodes :P

The Prodigy - a decent child possession horror

Into the Night (season 1) - really enjoyed this, a highlight of the year for me, hoping for a season 2

It - pretty chilling and creepy, but a tad cheesey

Jurassic World and Jurassic World: Fallen Kingdom - the first one has a brilliant dinosaur fight scene, the second one has too many plot holes and inconsistencies to take seriously

Knowing - a Nicholas Cage sci-fi/apocalpytic classic, pretty decent

Stranger Things (random episodes) - i tried to get my bf into the show but sadly he still isn’t much of a TV fan

Miranda (random episodes) - such fun!

Black Mirror (seasons 1 & 2) - another one i introduced the bf to, i got a bit further with him on this one, the very first episode being the highlight

The Last House on the Left - a decent remake, but nothing outstanding

Dark (season 3) - this, my friends, is one of the greatest shows of all time. want a timey-wimey story where everything is connected and has an amazingly satisfying conclusion? this is the show for you!

The Silence - a bad ‘A Quiet Place’

Geostorm - i’m a fan of disaster movies but this one wasn’t in the same league as some of the greats

Panic Room - a mum and kid hides in the panic room when a group of thugs break into the house, it was enjoyable but not all that memorable

Prisoners - a very long film with some enjoyable parts but overall unsatisfying

Girl on the Third Floor - it was okay, i can’t remember much of it

The Woods (season 1) - another Harlan Coben adaptation- not as good as ‘Safe’ or ‘The Stranger’ but still a gripping thriller

Time Trap - a fun time-travel film with some interesting turns of events

72 Dangerous/Cutest Animals (random episodes) - just ‘cause i love animals

Slasher (all of it) - some very gory deaths, especially in season 3. quite disturbing but keeps the suspense up throughout.

2012 - a guilty pleasure of mine, realistic or not

Kingsman: The Secret Service - a fun spy film, will be looking to watch the second one soon

Blackfish - this was harrowing, it really made me think, but overall i’m on the side of tilikum

Unsolved Mysteries (season 1 & 2) - watching some of these my jaw dropped, love theorising on this kind of stuff

Down to Earth with Zac Efron (season 1) - Zac is great in this, he seems so chill and literally ‘down to earth’

The Call - I love this film, seen it 3 times now

Contagion - very relatable right now, interesting to see the parallels with todays situation

Next in Fashion (season 1) - i didn’t get too far with this, i found it a little superficial

Searching - another of those internet web-cam based films. decent but not memorable.

Non-stop - another Nicholas Cage classic, this time a suspense thriller

Freaks - as the title suggests this one was rather weird, i didn’t quite gel with it

The Perfection - wow, that was an experience. definitely memorable, even if some characters make questionable decisions...

Extraction - not usually a fan of action-type thrillers, but i actually enjoyed this one, plus it has Chris Hemsworth in it!

Line of Duty (season 2) - full of suspense, a great build-up in the first 5 episodes, but the way they tied it up really grated on me

Insidious - watched this one with my sister. a genuinely good horror film on rewatch with an amazing cliff-hanger

A Quiet Place - another one watched with my sister. labelled a horror but its more sci-fi, either way its a classic. bring on the second film!

The Dark Tower - disappointing mostly.

Gladiator - i’d never seen this before and now i understand the hype- what an epic movie!

Criminal UK (season 2) - didn’t disappoint following the exceptional first season

Venom - a fun comedic marvel film, definitely need to watch more from Marvel in the next year- i need an order to watch them in as don’t know where to start

Our Planet (season 1) - chill David Attenborough to put on in the background

The Equalizer - a great action revenge thriller plot with a badass Denzel

Merlin (random episodes) - who doesn’t love a trip down memory lane with some nostalgic bbc merlin?

A Nightmare on Elm Street (2010) - pretty scary remake

The Witcher (season 1) - rewatched in order to familiarise myself again before season 2 - i didn’t realise how funny the show was until this time round, gotta love Jaskier!

American Murder: The Family Next Door - this was haunting

The Haunting of Bly Manor - phenomenal, emotional, creepy, heartbreaking - i much preferred it to Hill House

Abducted in Plain Sight - seriously, how naive are the parents in this? i could have a rant for hours about this!

The End of the F***ing World (seasons 1 & 2) - very bingeable, Alyssa makes me laugh too much, i love how relatable the show is

Fractured - didn’t expect much from this consipiracy-type film but it kept me guessing right till the end

The Ripper (limited series) - very intriguing, but the mysogyny in this was shocking

Inconceivable - a typical mother looking for her baby revenge plot but still entertaining

The Midnight Sky - i’d heard rave reviews for this but was disappointed by a lacklustre plot which was sacrificed for award-winning cinematography

Killer Women with Piers Morgan (season 2) - a pyschological interview series which looks into the mind of murderers, rather interesting

May the Devil Take You - scarier and jumpier than i thought it would be!

So 2020 obviously gave me a lot of time to watch a s**t load of stuff and looking back at it i feel like i got a decent amount of my watch-list ticked off! And obviously this is not including shows watched on other media so there’s that too (a special shout-out to the William Hartnell era of Doctor Who which I watched this year on BritBox). In all, 2020 has definitely introduced me to a few new fandoms and progressed my love for others.

33 notes · View notes

figurctives · 3 years

Text

henri was fifteen when she realized theodore was her future.

or more like, when she realized she didn’t have another option. the first time she had a crush on a boy it happened fast. she’d met him at her summer hagwon. he was smart and kind and always saved for henri next to him. it took weeks for her to gather up the courage to ask him out; she wanted him to be her date for a charity event her mother was hosting. it would be her first time doing so, going with a boy. but it wouldn’t be the boy from her hagwon. her mother denied her of that immediately, like it wasn’t even worth considering. oh, no, henrietta. you’ll go with theodore instead, how about that?

the idea had seemed outlandish at first. theodore, the boy who teased her and laughed when she cried and got her in trouble. she wanted nothing to do with him, only dealt with his shenanigans because he was always around. looking back, she wants to ask her mother, don’t you think we were too young? but she hadn’t thought that back then, she hadn’t even realized yet. not until the first time turned into the second time and the third turned into the fifth. instead she’d asked her mother, why theo? there’s a boy at my hagwon i really like, why do i have to go with theo?

her mother had brushed her fringe from her face and said, because you and theodore look so lovely together. i’m sure you’ll make him very happy. there had been no more room for arguing after that. it was settled. for almost every formal event or gala or dinner henri attended for the next five years of her life, theo was her date and vice versa. he never even asked her to be his girlfriend, but somewhere along the way they fell together. started holding hands even when they didn’t have to, going places that were more than just the events they were expected to show up to. movies, dinner, each other’s houses and dorm rooms.

it was easy to go along with. when theo kissed her for the first time in spring four years ago, on the sidewalk in seoul under the cherry blossoms, when their classmates teased them and said, you guys are such a cute couple, and theo didn’t deny it. just laid his arm across henri’s shoulders and smirked. henri had blinked, realization dawning over her and said, thank you, because it was easy to go along with. until it wasn’t.

until theo’s kindness and his interest ran full circle. until henri stopped knowing how to make him laugh or smile or pay attention to her. until she realized she would only be allotted into his life based on convenience and appearances. you’re so naive, henrietta, he’d say. because he gave it up first. the idea of them together, actually together. the hope that their future would be more than cold business arrangements and familial expectations, he never held on to that very tightly. not the way that henri did, for so long.

but finally, she was starting to let go of it, too.

––––

“one week suspension,” theo sneers, tossing his phone across the room. it crashes into the wall and makes henri jump. “that’s all this incompetent staff is capable of.”

“hold still,” henri says, fingers under his chin, tilting his face towards her with one hand and a damp cloth in the other. she stands between his legs in his room, at the edge of his bed, cleaning the dried blood from his bandaged nose. he’s been at it since that afternoon two days ago, face red even after the blood was cleaned from his skin. he’s done, he’d said as the nurses flitted around him in the infirmary. he’s finished.

he looks a little ridiculous now, his swollen skin a watercolor canvas of bruises, his nose stint ugly and silver.

"they’re a bunch of greedy cowards,” he goes on. “as if leonard park’s hush money is enough to allow his vermin son to continue tarnishing st. agathe’s. he should be expelled. his younger siblings, too, they’re all nothing but bad news.”

silence settles as henri removes the bloodied gauze from theo’s nose, his anger simmering. she does her best to hide her relief. only a suspension, and not the permanent removal theo is fighting so hard for. the thought had scared her at first, that sinclair might be sent away and not allowed to return. would these feelings still exist inside of her if that were the case? would the sound of his name stop making her heart stutter if he was no longer around? would her life go back to normal, then?

she hasn’t been able to stop thinking about it, hasn’t been able to stop trying to figure out how it all fell apart before they were even able to learn how they fit together. i’m probably the most exciting thing that’s ever happened to you. her fingers pause where they’re wrapping a strip of gauze around itself, as the words play over in her head. as she thinks of how sinclair’s shaking hand had felt in hers as she bandaged his bruised knuckles and he told her his secrets.

“he’s really not that bad,” she says, quietly, as she pushes the clean gauze gently back into theo’s nose. he hisses, pulls away to look at her, offended.

“you’re defending him?”

“no,” she assures. her hand finds the back of his neck and she pulls him close again to remove the blood and bandages from the other side. “but i think it’s important to take into consideration that calvin is his best friend, and they aren’t on good terms. if calvin is really... if he and sinclair never get the chance to work things out, it would be really devastating for him.”

henri can’t get that out of her head, either. that look in sinclair’s eyes. that desperate need for answers, the fear that theo’s words might be true. but then she thinks about the way theo’s face had sounded under his fist, and she pushes it all aside. when theo grimaces up at her and says, you’re too naive, henrietta, she can’t help but to agree.

––––

the week of sinclair’s absence is relatively uneventful, with the school year finally approaching its end and finals just around the corner. with both calvin and sinclair gone, campus has grown quiet.

this time last year, there had been a list of secret parties going around, all leading up to their final day, making the last weeks before summer exciting rather than stressful. but now, it feels inappropriate. the same way st. agathe’s had gone dark in the weeks following valentina’s demise, they’re all paying their premature respects to calvin. there’s been no sign of him. no ransom letter like the police thought, no clues as to where he could have gone. nothing. people were starting to lose hope.

but for all the parties that aren’t happening, henri still finds herself invited to one. halfway through the week, an unexpected face stops henri at the library’s front desk. as she hands over her book to be checked out, a body leans against the counter beside her.

“hey,” luna says, friendly smile a little awkward. “listen, my birthday is coming up, and i know this is kind of out of the blue, but i’m celebrating this weekend, and i wanted to invite you.”

“oh,” henri says, blinking away her confusion. she can count on a single hand the conversations she’s had with luna, and she’d still have fingers left over. she has no idea why luna would want to invite her to her birthday celebrations. “i don’t, um... i don’t think-”

“i know it’s sudden,” luna interjects. she chews at her lower lip in contemplation for a beat, before she sighs, shoulders sagging. “but here’s the thing: simon is always making fun of me for not having any friends, so when i said i wanted to celebrate, it was kind of too embarrassing to admit that he was right, so i told him to plan something and that i’d bring people, but i don’t have a lot people i can ask, so. will you come?” she clasps her fingers together. “for the sake of my pride, please?”

there is a glaring list of pros and cons that immediately presents themselves to henri, but with luna standing right here, staring henri down and holding up the line, she knows that that list doesn’t matter: she can’t say no. her lips press into a tight smile, and she nods. “sure. i’d, uh... i’d love to.”

really, she’d rather do anything but. because the first con on her list is enough to wash away any of the pros. sinclair is without a doubt, one hundred percent, going to be there. and as luna tells her the time and place, disappearing before henri can change her mind, a sense of dread begins to bundle in her gut.

but she finds herself outside of the riot house at the end of the week, anyways, knocking on the front door as the sun begins to settle low in the sky. she very pointedly does not think about the last time she’d been in this position, snow sparkling beneath the sun instead of a green, carefully manicured lawn. when the door swings open, her heart catches in her throat. she doesn’t know why she came here.

simon stands on the other side of the threshold, a ridiculous party hat on his head, the elastic strap pressing into the skin beneath his chin.

“you came!” he rejoices, ushering her inside. “i didn’t believe luna when she said people actually accepted her invitations. you can be honest, she paid you to come, didn’t she?”

“hey!” luna scolds, as henri and simon emerge from the entryway into the kitchen. to henri’s absolute surprise, leaning against the island in the middle of the room, is professor kwon. he smiles at her, and nods his head in greeting. luna continues to defend herself, like none of this is even the least bit odd. “i didn’t bribe anyone. everyone i invited said they would come, and they did.”

“so, this is it? this is your party?” simon asks, like he can’t help but be disappointed. “two people?”

“of course not,” luna says, emphasizing the final t. “i invited archie as well.”

15 notes · View notes

donaidk · 3 years

Text

Rhythm of Time - Part III

New year, new part, new banner, same old me with my ramblings... Not gonna make it long, just the usual quick thank you for reading this and all the other parts/stories and hope you guys will enjoy this too :) Part II | You’re here | Part IV Masterlist

„ What do you want? ” I asked immediately not to give him any time to start talking about anything else. He always had a reason to search me out, and it was never about anything usual for a lovely father-daughter chat. It was never that simple.

„ Congrats for the job with Haas. I knew they will realise your talents. ” He said, a smile getting on his face, which made my stomach turn. „ Don’t really know what you think of me. Can’t I congratulate my own daughter? ” He asked back, making me roll my eyes. I was just relieved that Mick already left and this was a private conversation.

„ You mean your personal slave? ” I bit back, crossing my arms in front of my chest while not taking my eyes off his ones. „ You never want to just chat. There’s always something ” I shook my head a little, as not one bit of my body wanted to be in his vicinity.

„ Oh, even you know that was only a misunderstanding. I would never do something like that. ” Dad let out a sigh but he could never make me rethink my decision about any of his business offers. They were all dirty traps, well covered by his connections.

„ Just like you would never hurt anyone else either. Right. ” His words made me roll my eyes again, and it didn’t help that I saw nothing like regret in his eyes after my question. „ Look, I have a real job to do, not like others… I would appreciate it if you could just get out of my way and not try your dirty tricks out on me. I know you too well already. I’m immune. ” I shook my head, rather walking back to the paddock, to get a car with someone else from the team, as I didn’t want to waste one more driver’s time for just one passanger.

„ Mona… Don’t be like this to your own dad. ” He came after me immediately, but as soon as I felt his hand around my wrist anger pumped through my veins and I tore my hand away from him.

„ Don’t you dare play that card. You lost your right to do so years ago. You have nothing to do with me, and I would be the happiest human on this Earth if I could never see you again. I rue ever getting to know you. ” I glared at him, turning back just so I could push him back from myself. I never felt so much hatred towards a family member prior to the day I realised all his wrong doings. Him calling my name again just restarted the fire inside me, once more. „ I don’t have your name for a reason. Do me a favour and forget me finally. You should be fucking grateful that Mum still believes you. ” I poked his chest before turning on my heels so I could finally get to our garage as soon as possible, where I knew he wasn’t allowed in.

I let out a sigh as soon as I was finally inside and sat down next to Pete who was still going through data before they would have to get the garage packed up. The car was already back in it’s place and even though it was covered on most parts you could see the broken suspensions sticking out. I knew they would have to start fixing it for the next race, although they had more time for it as the next one was in only two weeks time. It was probably lucky that it wasn’t during a race that was followed by another immediately. Made everyone’s job easier and gave them time to completely fix it and get it back where it was before. With a sigh I looked back at the screens even though I knew I couldn’t really help them in any way. This wasn’t really my field and I would have probably either messed up everything or I just wouldn’t even be able to comment on any part of the data if they ever asked for my opinion.

In the end I stayed until they all were done and gladly helped packing up as I really didn’t feel like going outside of the pitlane, and giving a chance for my father to try talking to me again. I didn’t know if he had the balls to stay right until he would be kicked out with the last few visitors, or if he gave up after my response to his approach. Maybe I was giving him too much credit with the second option, but I wanted to believe that it was possible. It would mean I was getting closer to finally getting fully out of his grasp. The media coming up with rumours involving him and I twice a year was truly enough for my mental health. I didn’t need him giving them even more to report on, breaking down my reliability day by day, pushing me further away from my goal of working in the sport without being connected to him. changing my name was one step, but I knew quite well it wouldn’t solve everything and people will still know who I am and who brought me up until my realisation that he was no good as a parent and I could finally take my own decisions.

It was already quite late when the car that took Pete, two of the mechanics and myself, back to the hotel arrived at the destination and we could get out. I dragged myself to the elevator, taking it up to my level where I separated from the guys and went to my own room. The little LED on the lock just turned green and I was about to push down the handle when the door two down from mine opened and I turned towards the sound, getting caught off guard by the movement I saw from the corner of my eyes.

„ Hello. ” Mick greeted me as he stepped out of his room, making me nod in his way. „ Are you coming to dinner? ” He asked again, making me stop in my tracks and step back before I would be inside my own room.

„ I already ate, but thank you. ” I lied and shook my head a little, but before I would have stepped inside I forced myself to look up at him. „ Sorry for the car situation. He can time his ’visits’ quite terribly. ” I added with a sigh hoping that bringing it up won’t just make it even more awkward. There was only silence after my apology, making me want to take back everything I said. I was just about to do that when he was quicker and spoke up.

„ Do you want to talk about it? I mean that usually helps… if you talk it out with someone. ” He surprised me, as I anticipated him trying to get out of the situation rather than offering help. „ It doesn’t have to be me though. You probably have your own friends who usually help you with these things. ” He shrugged a little, almost leaving for the diner when I nodded my head.

„ I would appreciate that. ” I added to my gesture so he would know for sure what I meant. „ Only if you have the time to do so. I don’t want to take up your free time. ” I spoke up quickly again, realising I had no right to change up his whole schedule with my own problems. He probably had better things to do than listen to my rambling about my dad being an asshole.

„ I’m completely free. I’m just gonna get dinner and head back here. Take a shower until then. ” He offered, making me nod again and finally enter my room as soon as he was further away from me, already at the end of the hallway to get into the elevator. Before he would turn around and see me still standing there, I stepped inside closing my door.

His idea did plant a seed in my head, and even though I didn’t plan on it, I took a warm shower, putting my hair up in a towel in the end as I got some clothes out of my suitcase, to change out of the robe. I would have probably just got my pajamas on, but knowing I will have someone over I thought it would be better to get normal clothing out. I was just about to brush through my hair when there was a knock on the door, making me confused for a second, before I got to the door and opened it up. Mick with two containers of food wasn’t a sight in front of me that I anticipated. As soon as I stepped aside he came inside, handing me one of the containers.

„ Robert sent it, knowing you didn’t eat at the track and wasn’t going to do so here if you didn’t come down with me. ” He answered my silent question that my risen eyebrow held, making me smile a little. Some of the crew knew me too well, I guess. „ So, a movie or just chatting? ” He asked, making me look up to see him take a seat on the couch like it was his room we were in. Somehow it still didn’t make me feel abashed as it felt strangely normal.

„ We can start something if you want. Won’t promise that my mind will take it in though. ” I let out a sigh, getting the remote from the TV in front of the couch before sitting down on the other side opposite to him. I watched him take it from my hand before switching it onto a channel that was playing the highlights from today, making me chuckle. „ Guess that won’t strain my poor brain. ” I shook my head, opening the top of the container to see one of my favourites inside.

We watched the replays on the screen as we dived into our food, although there wasn’t really anything we haven’t seen before. I felt myself tense up when they showed the only crash of the race, which was of course Mick’s, but I was glad to see that wasn’t one bit affected by it now. They usually got over them easily, if it wasn’t anything serious or life changing. I was about to finish my meal when they changed to some interviews and immediately felt sickness take over me when I saw the name Jason Hackett written out on the screen and just seconds later the camera turned to show my dad with a full on grin, standing in front of a microphone. They were asking him about rumours of him bringing back the Hackett name into F1 and even though he denied to have any plans like that right now he did hint on having talks with one of the teams. My stomach turned in a way I thought was impossible, at the idea of my father getting to work with another team after how the last occasion like this ended a few years ago.

„ Guess we know why he was there today at least. ” Mick sighed next to me, although I couldn’t break my glance away from the TV until he went off screen finally. „ Although it’s quite a bold statement that someone would like to work with him, taking the outcome of his last sponsorship with a team into account. ” He added with a scoff, making me nod in agreement. I really didn’t know what to think about this all together.

„ You know he’s my father, don’t you? ” I asked him when I was finally out of the trance the interview caused me to fall into. „ Stupid question. Probably everyone knows, however hard I’m trying to keep it from them. ” I poked at a piece of a chicken angrily, almost poking myself in the hand through the material of the box.

„ I wouldn’t say everyone knows. Your friends for sure do, but for example the mechanics probably never even thought you have a connection to him. Only way if they really looked into the cases back when they happened. ” He shook his head a little, mostly just looking at his own food, which wasn’t the sign I was looking for. I had to make myself remember that he was still the one to bring this up and come to my room. „ You’re not running around telling everyone, and also joined the team after all the changes, so they didn’t even have your ’real’ name to start off on. ” He added with a shrug looking back up at me, my worries fading away about him feeling trapped in this conversation.

I had to agree with him, as I really didn’t give myself away for everyone. Why would I? My only dream was to finally get out of his shadow so I could be my own person finally and not just a puppet of his. We stayed in silence watching the TV as they changed to some biking footage from the previous day, while I was still in my thoughts mostly. It was probably one of my worst traits, spending at least two quarters of my time inside my thoughts, completely shutting the outside word out. It gave me the chance to work things out inside without getting anyone worried about me, but I mostly stressed about things that weren’t worth it anyways, making me waste my time.

„ Did you know back then? When I still had his name? ” I asked him, still looking straight at him as I really didn’t want to miss his expression so he couldn’t lie to me. He took a deep breath, probably debating how he should put his words.

„ They made sure I knew. They told us who he was as the accusations were quite fresh back then. But I didn’t know that you’re his daughter. ” He shook his head, looking quite truthful and I believed him. He didn’t give me a reason to do otherwise. „ When I woke up, I had texts from the PR managers that there were photos of the two of us talking with a group of people. They asked me to keep clear of you until I had my contract signed, so photos like these won’t bring my future team an unsure feeling about me. ” My hand stopped in the middle of lifting the fork to my mouth, resting the silverware down on the box again. That wasn’t something I thought about.

„ That’s lovely. Although, I understand their fears. Even I know how messy he leaves everything he touches. There aren't many who can steal millions and still stay out of jail. ” I rolled my eyes, closing the top of my box as I lost most of my appetite. „ Lucky that I stood up against him, isn’t it? At least I’m not someone in their eyes who may interfere with things for him. ” I sighed, crossing my arms in front of my chest. It was the only thing I feared, losing all the respect I worked for in the past few years just because they think I’m here thanks to him.

„ How did you end up at Haas actually? You never mentioned that before. ” He questioned me, making me look up from the floor again.

„ Erica was a family friend of ours who stood up against my dad when he was accused of stealing money through sponsorships. Back then she was still in F2, and then she helped me get my voice heard after he messed up again just with an F2 team. ” I started my story that I never actually told anyone before. Not many were curious enough to actually ask. „ Then when I started university but realised it wasn’t what I wanted she took me as a trainee and helped me get my education in PR management in a way that was compatible with our travelling, so I would have the qualifications if I wanted to look for something outside of Haas in the future. ” I finished up with a smile on my face from the memories. I could only thank Erica for me. She was almost more family to me than my own blood. She trusted me, even when they considered me a wild card in the media.

„ Guess everyone needs a mentor in their life? ” He asked with a similar smile on his face and I could only nod in agreement. Having someone guide you wasn’t too bad of a thing, until they only had good intentions. If someone, Mick probably understood my position the best out of the team members we had.

#mick schumacher #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher oneshot #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher imagine #f1 #f1 fanfiction #f1 oneshot #f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #rhythm of time #bydonaidk

30 notes · View notes

imagineaworlds · 4 years

Text

I Love You (Part Nineteen) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Mentions of smut. Mentions of Dom/sub relationship. Talk of murder, sexual assault, kidnapping-- literally everything Criminal Minds.

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9119

Timeline: A few days after part eighteen.

As far as Jack was aware, Hotch and I had some time off from work, which was why we were around more often. Jack spent a few nights at Haley’s house during the school week, but when he started throwing tantrums about not getting to stay over at our house, Haley had to give in and call us to see if it was alright if he stayed the rest of the week. Of course, Hotch and I were ecstatic to have Jack over more. Considering how often we were away from him and our time with him was never guaranteed, we wanted to utilize every second Haley would allow us to have him.

It had only been a few days since Hotch and I argued, but we still hadn’t discussed it again like we promised. I think that deep down, the courage I mustered before to think about going to Strauss and asking for a transfer, it all immediately disappeared once my anger subsided; and Hotch was just as scared to bring up the topic again for fear of riling me up, which would cause us to have the same argument. There was a point where I asked myself if I should have just snuck out of the house and gone to talk to Strauss anyways, but Hotch and I made a promise, and, like I said before, I trusted him. If he thought that waiting to see how our evaluations would turn out was best, then I was going to wait. But if there was any chance in hell that he was going to get fired because of me, I was going to rain down hell on Erin Strauss.

On Tuesday of the following week, eight days since my suspension, I picked up Jack from school while Hotch was busy cleaning up from our… afternoon activities. I had sub dropped shortly after we were done, and he felt horrible about it, even though it had nothing to do with him. The relief that came from being out of control and being under him was exactly what I needed to forget about all of the stress we were under, but when we came back down to Earth, it suddenly all hit me like a train again. It took about an hour of Hotch holding me, kissing me, and talking to me in order to calm me down. By the time I had relaxed, I looked over at the clock and realized that one of us needed to pick up Jack while someone else needed to pick up the house— yeah, the whole house. It was an entire afternoon of going through the black box, alright. He offered to do both, that it wouldn’t matter if he was a few minutes late picking up Jack, but I told him that I would rather get a Superman hug from Jack than sit around doing nothing.

So that was how I ended up in front of Jack’s school while wearing a red v-neck shirt tucked into a pair of Hotch’s college sweatpants that had to be rolled up on my waist since he was so much taller than me. Yes, I was very aware of my new obsession, but it was his fault for leaving his old college clothes in a box in the back of his closet. They were just sitting there, practically screaming my name, begging to be shown attention again. How could I not throw them in the wash and then wear them around the house? It wasn’t like I could wear work clothes or my pajamas all day. Besides, Hotch seemed to like it. His eyes were starting to linger on my body more, and he was getting a little more handsy. That was how we ended up using the entire house in the afternoon, for example.

Jack came running up to me and immediately caught me in a Superman embrace. I loved that this was our new thing. There was a difference between getting a hug from a friend or otherwise and getting a Superman hug from Jack. Somehow, him strangling me by squeezing as hard as he could during our hugs was more comforting that anything else in the world. I loved how he strained to hug me as tight as possible, and I could squeeze him back, too. I liked how he hid his face in the crook of my neck while he did it so that he could focus on the hug and being as strong as possible. Those little moments and little details were what made it all worth it. It was a reminder of how much I loved him and his father, and that we should keep fighting for that happiness and these moments. There was no point in letting Strauss win, no point in letting her get to me and our personal life.

When we got home, the house was clean with no sign of how Hotch and I spent our day, but what was more noticeable than anything else was the fact that Hotch wasn’t around. Maybe he went to Haley’s house to pick something up for Jack, or maybe she needed something from us? Maybe he went to go get us dinner? Maybe he went to go pick up groceries? There were a thousand different places where he could be, but I wasn’t sure, so I told Jack to go to the dining room and start working on his homework while I called his dad.

When I flipped my phone open to dial Hotch, I saw that I had two missed calls from Morgan that I must’ve ignored while picking up Jack or driving us home. I figured that I would call Hotch first, see where he was and when I should be expecting him home, then I would call Morgan back to see what he needed. When I called Hotch, though, it went straight to voicemail. I furrowed my brows before trying his phone again. Still nothing. Well, he was probably just busy and he would call me back. In the meantime, I could at least call Morgan back.

“Why the hell did I just run into Hotch at the office only to hear that he’s requesting for a transfer?” Morgan asked curtly before there could be an exchange of niceties.

“What?”

“Yeah, I just passed him, like, ten minutes ago when I first tried calling you.”

“Ten minutes ago?” I looked at the clock on the wall.

If Hotch had already been meeting with Strauss about a transfer for ten minutes, that meant that some kind of decision had likely already been reached. Hotch… He left when he knew I was gone and couldn’t stop him, and he did exactly what I wanted to do a few days ago. That wsn’t fucking fair. I trusted him. I told him that we would wait to make any kind of decision until we could talk about it. Why would he do this? It should have been me. He knew that it should have been me. Fucking asshole.

“Y/N,” Morgan called my attention back to reality with a softer, worried tone. I hummed a “what” and he continued, “What’s going on? Why haven’t the two of you been at work? Why did you storm out last week?”

I sighed and put a palm to my forehead while my thoughts raced. “Strauss suspended both of us because of our relationship.”

Morgan scoffed, “That’s bullshit.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me, but then my face fell flat again. “I was the one who was supposed to put in for the transfer, but Hotch made me promise that we would talk about it later… He lied to me, Morgan.”

“I’m so sorry.” He sighed like he was annoyed with something else, “Listen, I’ve gotta go. We've got a new case, and Emily and Gideon are both MIA. I’ll call you later, chica. Hang tight. We’ll get this all figured out soon, don’t you worry.”

“Be safe.”

“You got it.”

I sighed as I hung up the call and put my phone away. Aaron Hotchner… What was I supposed to do? I looked him in the eye last Wednesday and I told him that I was going to wait because I trusted him and I believed him that everything would be alright. I told him that I loved him as we agreed to not doing anything about it yet. How could he lie to me like this? How could he betray my trust like this? Did it have to do with me sub dropping? Please… No… I told him that it wasn’t his fault. He did everything right and he did everything he could. It wasn’t his fault…

“Y/N! I’m stuck!” Jack called from the dining room. He must have started with his math homework, which was why he was having trouble. Shit.

“Alright, one second, little man!” I yelled back calmly.

It wasn’t common for me to sub drop— hell, I even told Hotch that to make sure he knew that it didn’t have to do with him. If that was the cause of his snap, he had to realize that it wouldn’t fix things, it would only make them worse. Me sub dropping shouldn’t’ve had anything to do with his job. Why did he have to be so damn stubborn all the time?

“Y/N!” Jack called again.

I sighed, wiping my forehead clean. Help Jack with homework first, argue with Hotch about how he was an idiot later. That was all I could possibly do. Feeling angry and helpless could wait, so I stepped into the dining room and sat down with Jack to take a look at what he was working on. Multiplication still, but this time with twelves, the demon spawn of multiplication. I didn’t blame him for struggling with it. Hotch and I were always there to help him if he needed it, even if he were to ever ask us what 2+2 was.

It took us about an hour to finish all of Jack’s math homework. Oh, to be a kid in school again where work only took about an hour or so and you could practically ask someone else to do it for you. Jack had it good, he had no freaking clue. Sometimes I wished that I were in his shoes, but what good would that have done me? After working on his math, though, he insisted that he could do the rest of it on his own in his bedroom, so I let him run off to be alone.

Hotch hadn’t come home while we were still working in the dining room, so I moved to the living room to wait for him. I didn't turn on the TV, I didn’t listen to music, and I didn’t even look at my phone. I just stared at the wall while lost in thought. Why did he do it? I told him that he was an essential part of the team, that no one could afford to lose him at the BAU. He couldn’t lose the BAU. He had everything to lose, and I had nothing, and yet he did it probably for me, and that made me feel like shit. I didn’t want him to give up everything for me. I know that in movies that always sounds so romantic, but knowing that he gave it up because he wanted me to be happy over all else… How was I supposed to live with that?

Hotch deserved the world. He deserved to be happy. He said it himself that his job, his son, and me all made him happy. What would his formula for happiness look like if we took away his job? What would it take to make him happy again? I was sure that he was going to come home and insist that all he needed was me and Jack, but that wasn’t true. At least I knew it wasn’t true for me, and we were eerily similar, so it probably wasn’t true for him either. My formula for happiness was Elle, Hotch, Jack, and my job. It took me a long time to be happy again after I lost Elle, but I did find happiness again because I had my job, Hotch, and Jack there to distract me. Our careers were a huge part of our lives. Without our jobs to distract ourselves, we were miserable— we had proven that much since our suspensions. Nothing, not even me and Jack, could make Hotch happy if he lost the BAU. And I was absolutely petrified to face that truth.

And then I heard a car pull up to the curb outside of our house. I knew that it was Hotch, probably having caught a cab or asked for a ride home from Anderson or something. I didn’t move, though. The wall seemed to stare back at me as I considered what I would say and how our conversation would go. I certainly didn’t want to yell at him because that didn’t get us anywhere the other day, but it was going to be damn near impossible to keep my cool.

“Morgan called,” I told Hotch when I heard the door open. Hotch stopped in his tracks when he realized that he had been caught. “He told me everything.” The door closed and Hotch’s keys hit the table. “So did Strauss give in? Is she transferring you?”

“I swear, Y/N, I was going to tell you.” he said regretfully as he walked around the couch and sat next to me. I looked up at him to see that he was wearing a work suit. “We were going to talk about it, just like we promised, but I saw that it was taking a toll on you, and I just had to put an end to it.”

“That wasn’t for you to decide, Hotch.”

“I know that you said it had nothing to do with me, but I was sick of sitting by while this ate at you.” He dropped a file he had been carrying onto his lap before grabbing my hands. “It’s done. It’s over. They have no reason to keep you suspended anymore. We’ll be getting the call to reinstate you any day now.”

I looked at the file he had brought home, “Does that have to do with your transfer?” I figured that changing the subject was better than arguing about something we couldn’t fix. And if I were being honest, I realized how little energy I had, especially for calculating jabbing moves required for an argument.

He followed my gaze, patted the top of the folder, then shook his head. “No. No. Garcia gave this to me on my way out. Apparently it’s the case the team is working on right now.”

“And she gave it to you?”

“Said she had orders to do so,” he shrugged. “There’s something else,” he told me as I grabbed the file out from under his hands to take a look. “Prentiss quit.”

I raised a brow. “What?”

“She came into my office while Strauss and I were talking. She’s leaving the BAU.”

“Do you know why?”

“She wants to work for the State Department, apparently.”

That didn’t answer my question. Why the hell was Emily quitting? She loved the BAU just as much as the rest of us. She had made it plain to all of us on multiple occasions that she felt like we were her family, and that she felt at home with us. It didn’t sit right with me that she was leaving at the same time as me and Hotch. But then I remembered something Morgan said on the phone. He mentioned that both Emily and Gideon were gone. Emily had now been accounted for, but no sign of Gideon? That was equally troubling. It seemed like of the eight members of our team, half of us were away from the office for an abundance of reasons. 50% of our team was gone, and yet Strauss didn’t see that something was wrong? Maybe someone should have had the balls to tell her that her bad leadership was what landed us in this mess in the first place. If Hotch hadn’t already gone in to request a transfer, I would have gone in myself to say it straight to her face since I didn’t get to last Monday when she suspended me.

“What about Gideon?” I inquired. Hotch only answered with a raised brow. “Morgan said that he’s MIA.”

Hotch’s face fell. “I had no idea.”

So Gideon was missing, Emily was leaving the BAU, I was suspended until further notice, and Hotch was getting transferred to… Where was he getting transferred to? I realized that I didn’t know, so I asked. Hotch lowered his gaze and shamefully admitted that he was being sent to a white collar crime division. Basically FBI hell. It was clear that he didn’t want to discuss it, at least not yet, so I didn’t pry.

“What about the case?” I asked, opening up the file.

“The team flew to Milwaukee. Four women have been killed so far, and another woman went missing two days ago. They’re all blonde, all married, have children, and don’t have any jobs. All of the bodies have been left in the same neighborhood, lines of lipstick tracing their bodies, and their hearts carved out.”

“Their hearts?” I turned to the first page of evidence photos. “Any signs of sexual assault?”

“None was mentioned in the reports, at least.”

“What about the neighborhoods they’re being left in? It’s near one of the largest public schools in the area.” I pointed to a map of where all of the bodies were found, and right in the middle of it was a huge public school campus— triple the size of Jack’s private school. It had multiple buildings, probably about two for elementary, middle school, and high school each. It was no coincidence that the school happened to be in the epicenter. “Maybe he’s preying on the mothers of students?”

“That would mean he’s probably a father who can blend into the crowds there.”

“Or he’s a student in the middle school or high school.”

“No,” Hotch shook his head. “A middle schooler wouldn’t have the strength to carve out a heart like this, and, statistically speaking, high schoolers are much more prone to sexual assault.”

“So he could be anyone.”

Our profile hadn’t changed at all. We had working theories, yeah, but without seeing the crime scenes for ourselves, or getting to talk to the detectives, or getting to talk to locals, there wasn’t much else to help us decide how to pinpoint our profile. Since he could be anyone older than seventeen, that wasn’t much help for the team. Even if we wanted to say that it could be a parent, how could we be sure that it wasn’t just some creep who managed to keep his head down and go unnoticed in the back of the parking lot or something.

“They should be finishing up at the crime scene. I’ll try calling Morgan, see if they found anything new,” Hotch offered, picking up the phone.

I nodded and kept flipping through the pages of the files, while thinking to myself how much I was going to miss working cases with him. I liked how well we played off of each other, that if I had a thought or a theory, he would run through it with me to see if it made any sense. Like with this case, I thought that it was set in stone that the Unsub had something to do with the school, but Hotch saw that there were obvious holes in the hypothesis— holes that I couldn’t see because I had it set in my mind that I was right. But at least we determined that the Unsub was an adult, which could potentially save the team some time. Especially with only three of them working in the field, they would need all the help and time they could get. There was only so much Garcia could do from her computer, and Hotch and I were practically useless from our couch, all the while, Gideon was still somewhere unknown.

“Hey, Morgan,” Hotch greeted with the phone against his ear. “I’ve got Y/N here with me.” He hummed and nodded in agreement after a moment, then brought the phone between us while putting it on speaker. “What’s going on over there?”

“Well, Strauss criticized and offended the lead detective within the first 45 seconds on her first crime scene, and we’ve practically hit a dead end. So, just peachy. How about you guys? Did you find anything yet?”

“We’ve been looking over the files,” I began. “All of the bodies have been found within a ten mile radius surrounding one of the biggest public schools in the state. Each victim has been taken fifteen minutes after the last bell of the day, which is at 3:25. Two days later, they turn up fifteen minutes after the first bell of the day, which is at 8:10. We think that it’s very possible you’re looking for an adult male over the age of seventeen who has some kind of connection to the school. He might work there, he might currently be or previously been a student, he could be a parent, or he could be some kind of pervert. Regardless, he’s going to be at or around the school during drop off and pick up.”

“Do you know how he’s taking them yet?” Hotch asked Morgan.

“No. But this helps. Really, guys. Thank you. I’ll let you guys know what else we find. Hopefully we can catch up to him before he can take someone else.”

“You’ve got until 3:25, so, good luck.”

Morgan hung up the call before anything else could be said. I looked up at Hotch and handed him the case file so that he could review it again. We had helped as much as we could with the profile, and until they called back, we were going to feel entirely useless. Jack was upstairs, busy doing his homework since he knew that we were doing our superhero homework downstairs, and he wasn’t allowed to know about it since he was still a junior superhero. Hotch seemed antsy, though, about leaving the BAU and not being able to do more for our last case together. He got involved, and now he was desperate to see it to the end, and I couldn’t blame him. He didn’t want to do some white collar bullshit job. He didn’t want to do anything besides be the Unit Chief of the BAU.

“You know…” I whispered, putting my hand on his shoulder, “technically your transfer request hasn’t gone through yet if Strauss isn’t in the office to do it. It’s probably just sitting on her desk, waiting to be processed, which means that you’re, technically, still a part of the team. If you wanted to, you could go to Milwaukee to help with the case. And I actually happen to think that you should go.”

“What about you?” he asked warily.

I shrugged, “I’m still suspended, so I can’t go, but I’ll do what I can here; and maybe I can look for Gideon, too. It’s not like him to disappear like this, but there’s a chance that he’s probably just up at his cabin.”

“That’s not what I mean, Y/N.”

I bit my lip for a brief moment while I thought. There was no easy way to tell him that I wanted more than anything to go with him, to solve this case together with him one last time. Since I couldn’t admit that without guilting him into staying, I decided to lie and say what he needed to hear. “I’ll be fine here. Think of it like giving back up in the same way Garcia does… Just without the computers and the hacking skills.” I forced a faux, bright smile onto my face that made Hotch chuckle. “I’ll look for Gideon, you go to Milwaukee.”

Hotch leaned towards me and kissed me. “You’re the best,” he mumbled against my lips.

“I know,” I laughed before kissing him back. He leaned in a little further into our kiss, but I pushed him away with a palm on his chest to stop us before things could accelerate and spiral out of control. “Go get your go bag.” I pecked his lips again before practically shoving him off the couch and towards the stairs.

When Hotch came back a few minutes later, he was carrying his go bag on his shoulder while lifting Jack over his head like he was an airplane soaring through the sky. Jack was making noises and trying not to laugh or move around too much because he still didn’t want his dad to drop him. I craned my neck back to take a look at them and I grinned.

“Incoming!” I exclaimed, holding my arms out. Hotch moved Jack side to side like a plane falling out of the air until he could carefully drop Jack into my lap. I groaned, catching Jack, and making an explosion noise with my mouth. Jack thrashed around and giggled as I started tickling him, earning a chuckle from Hotch, too. Jack pried at my hands, and I started to relent because he needed to say goodbye to his dad. “Alright,” I surrendered, throwing up my hands. “Go give dad a Superman hug.” I picked up Jack from my lap and set him on his feet.

Hotch kneeled and caught Jack in his arms. I pushed myself off the couch as they hugged each other as tightly as possible. Hotch lifted Jack as he stood, still hugging his son like he never wanted to let go. As I approached, Hotch held out a free arm for me, so I pressed against his side and hugged both him and Jack. Hotch kissed my temple and squeezed my shoulders with the arm he had wrapped around me.

He moved his lips to my ear and whispered, “Try not to bother Gideon if you figure out where he is. If he’s really at his cabin, it just means he still needs some time after Sarah. We can give him that.”

I nodded and pressed into his touch. “Get back here as soon as you can.”

“I love you.”

“I’ll say it back when you come home without a single scratch on you.”

He squinted. “Come on.” He grabbed my hips and swayed me back and forth. “One more before I go.”

“I’m still mad at you, technically.”

“Come on.”

I bit back a smirk. If I could have, I would have screamed: “I love you, Aaron Hotchner!” at the top of my lungs a thousand times. But despite that, I was genuinely still mad at him, even though I was trying to mask it as well as I could. He lied to me. He betrayed my trust. That didn’t just go away. I know I acted like I was fine and I changed the topic to focus on the case, but I still felt a need in the pit of my stomach to yell at him and argue with him. Once this case would be over, I needed him to know the truth before it ate me alive. I needed him to know that he couldn’t just betray my trust like this and I wouldn’t care. I kept no secrets from him, even when they were painful to admit. All I asked of him was to show me the same courtesy. That wasn’t too far fetched, was it?

“I love you,” I feigned reluctancy. “Get back here as soon as you can.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He kissed Jack’s forehead before letting him down. Jack hugged his father’s waist, trying to make him stay, but Hotch had to pry him off. He had to go. “You’re sure about this?” he asked me worriedly.

“We’ll be fine. Go.” I pushed him towards the door gently. Jack hugged my leg since he couldn’t hug his father again. “I love you,” I finally admitted with sincerity.

Without me in the field with him, I couldn’t examine the threats out there, and I wasn’t sure if he would come home to me. I could hope and pray that he would come home, of course, but I wouldn’t be out there to take the bullet for him if came down to it. If something bad happened out there, I wanted to make sure that the last thing we said to each other was “I love you.” I didn’t want to have any regrets simply because I was mad at him. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t admit it before he left.

Hotch waved to us as he opened the front door, and Jack waved back as I picked him up. Hotch smiled at me one last time before closing the door and hurrying out for the cab he must have called while he was upstairs packing. When it was just me and Jack again, I kissed his cheek and gauged to see how he was feeling. He probably wasn’t used to saying goodbye to his dad and then being in the house without him anymore— at least not since Haley took him when they left Hotch. I just wanted to make sure that my little man was okay with saying goodbye to his dad. I was never around for the aftermath of the goodbyes, Haley was the one who had to deal with that. For me, I was so used to getting called in for a case, rushing to drop Jack off at his mom’s house, and then we would race to the office. We never stayed around long enough to make sure that Jack was okay because there simply wasn’t time. But now his dad was gone, and it was just the two of us in that house that was way too big for us.

An idea struck me. “Did you finish your homework, Superman?” I asked, wiping chocolate off his face that had probably been from lunch, and I missed it earlier while still dropping from subspace. He nodded. “Do you want to help me with a case?”

No, I wasn’t going to tell him about the case Hotch just left for. I wasn’t that bad of a parent. But looking for Gideon was important, and it was innocent, as far as I was aware. I figured that Jack would like to put his detective hat on with me for a bit to keep him occupied until dinner. Besides, Gideon was probably just at his cabin, just like Hotch said; but Jack didn’t know that. It could be fun to see how much Jack learned from his dad about being an awesome detective.

Jack nodded eagerly, so I carried him over to the couch and set him down. While he got comfortable, I went to the desk in the living room and grabbed some tape, a stack of flashcards, and two pens. I sat down next to Jack and handed him one of the pens before setting the tape down on the coffee table in front of us.

“Alright, so the case we’re working on is finding out where Uncle Gideon went and why.”

I knew that as long as I played dumb, I could guide Jack towards the obvious answer that Gideon was at his cabin, but while Jack worked on that, I needed to figure out the why. If there was a reason like just needing some extra time off after Sarah’s death, then, alright, I wasn’t going to get involved. But if we found something out that was concerning, then I was going to drive out there and figure out if he was alright.

“We’ll use these cards whenever we think of something important, and we’ll put them up on the wall. When we put them all together, they’ll make a puzzle that we can solve. Does that sound fun?” I asked with a small smile. Jack nodded and grabbed a few of the index cards. “Okay. So what do we know about Uncle Gideon?”

“He’s smart,” Jack answered giddily. I nodded an encouragement for him to keep going. “He’s brave, just like you and Dad.”

“Alright, why don’t you write down everything you know about him on those flashcards and we’ll talk about it after?”

Jack clicked his pen open and started scribbling as fast as he could. Who knew that all it took to get him to do some work was to tell him that it had to do with a case. I mean, Jack always liked sitting in our office with us while we worked just because he liked to be included and spend as much time with us as possible; but it was hard to actually get him involved with anything we ever worked on because of how mature the topics were. We didn’t exactly want Jack hearing about murder, kidnapping, rape, and so on. We wanted Jack to stay as innocent as possible for as long as possible.

Back to what we were doing, though, while Jack was worried about solving what I already knew about Gideon’s disappearance, I needed to solve why he left. So what did I know about Gideon that would give me the answer? What happened recently that made him want to leave out of the blue and without telling anyone— even Spencer. Gideon and Spencer were the closest of everyone on the team, platonically, at least. Spencer viewed Gideon as a father figure, and Gideon took that to heart, considering what happened with his real son. So if he didn’t tell Spencer, then it meant that something was wrong and he didn’t want anyone to worry.

There had to be a stressor beyond what happened to Sarah. Gideon waited too long after Frank killed her to leave. Though, he had been upset since that day. He had been quiet, isolating himself, his heart and mind not in the work that he loved to do. He loved to save people, a reason that he kept that journal with him that Frank stole. But he waited to leave. Why? The team got back from a case recently, maybe it had to do with that? But what could possibly happen in a case that would shake the great Jason Gideon?

Hotch told me about the case a bit. He said that there was an Unsub who was killing girls on a college campus, and they knew they had him, but they didn’t have enough evidence to put him away. After their seventy-two hours of holding him in custody for questioning, they had to let him go. When he was gone, however, a girl on the campus who was a fan of his, ended up killing him and then herself.

Why would that upset Gideon, though? What was so different about that case that we hadn’t seen before? A psychopathic teenage girl who killed herself? Why would Gideon care to this extent? Maybe it was something about the girl. Something about her past, or maybe Gideon connected with her somehow during their time on the campus. Or maybe… Gideon mentioned that Sarah was an old college friend of his, maybe— and it was a long shot— maybe there was something about the victims that reminded him of her?

I made sure that Jack was still working on his notes about Uncle Gideon as I grabbed my phone and stepped out of the room to call Garcia. She picked up immediately, which caught me off guard slightly. “You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice,” she raced through her words.

“I haven’t even said anything yet,” I laughed.

“You just did, and that’s good enough for me. Morgan told me what happened with Strauss. Do you want me to—”

“Garcia, no!” I kept laughing, this time more nervously than humorously. If I would have given her the go ahead, Garcia definitely would have done something to ruin Strauss’s career and life, and while the thought was certainly appealing, we couldn’t actually do that. “I’m just calling out the last case the team worked on.”

“The Arizona one?”

“Yeah. Can you tell me about the victimology?”

“Any particular reason?” she asked while her keyboard clacked away.

“Just humor me,” I shrugged.

“As you wish, my love… Let me see what I’ve got here.” She paused for a beat while she searched through her computer for the information I needed about the team’s last case. “Alrighty, here it is. Nathan Tubbs was the suspected Unsub, and it seemed he had a thing for skinny, gorgeous, white, brown eyed, brunette, college girls. Pretty boring, if you ask me. He was stabbing the victims in the chest and then posed them post-mortem—”

“Wait,” I stopped her. “Brown hair and eyes?”

“Yeah. Why? Does that mean something to you?”

Besides the fact that people with brown eyes made up about 70% of the population, and people with brown hair made up about 20%, yes… It actually did mean something. Sarah had brown hair and brown eyes. While that wasn’t exactly special, just as Garcia pointed out, the victims of this case probably reminded Gideon of Sarah. The case was just digging into an already painful wound. Not to mention the displayal of the bodies, which referenced that Tubbs felt remorse for his victims.

“How were the victims displayed?” I asked.

“It looks like they were on their backs, their eyes closed, feet together, arms crossed over their chest— kind of like a mummy, if you will.”

So not only did Tubbs have enough remorse to pose the bodies, but he did it in a way that showed empathy. He saw them as angels, almost. If Gideon saw these victims as mirror images of Sarah, then he probably saw the contrast between Frank’s brutality and Tubb’s empathy. Again, just pouring salt on the wound that Gideon was trying to heal.

“While I’ve got you,” I said, “can you trace Gideon’s cellphone?”

“Already did it earlier when he didn’t show up for the Roundtable meeting this morning.”

“And?”

“It looks like he’s at his cabin,” she said flatly.

Just as I thought, Gideon was out there, trying to escape his problems. And just as I suspected, it was about Sarah. “Thank you, Garcia. If you hear from the team, say ‘hi’ for me?”

“You got it, sweet pea. Now, be free, I must work!” She hung up on me and I buried my phone in my pocket again.

As I walked back into the living room, Jack seemed worn out and bored already. I thought about chuckling, but I decided to keep it to myself. Jack loved his dad and the job we had, and I was sure that Jack was probably going to end up being a cop like his dad; but as a kid who just wanted to have fun all the time, I understood why his attention span didn’t exactly allow him to sit around just writing notes like we were in school or something. He probably expected being a detective and an agent was a little more exciting than this. He wanted the car chases, the shootouts, the bulletproof vests, the on foot Unsub chases, and all of the other entertaining aspects of being a cop that you would see on TV. The reality was, however, that before we could even think about getting to that exciting point, we always had to start with the boring stuff like this. And I think that it disappointed him slightly, which was why he got bored so fast.

“We’re going on a trip, little man. How does that sound?” I asked after my approach caught his attention

Jack perked up. “Did you find Uncle Gideon?”

I nodded. “Grab your tablet, ‘cause it’s gonna be a long drive.”

He jumped off the couch and ran upstairs to grab his tablet and his favorite red dinosaur toy. Meanwhile, I grabbed my purse from the table by the front door. My phone buzzed again and I took a look at the text I got. It was from Hotch, letting me know that they just solved the case and were heading back to the local police station to process the Unsub. I told him that I’d be waiting for him when he would get home. “I love you,” he texted, and I quickly returned the favor.

Jack was already trying to buckle himself into his seat in the car when I sent the last text to Hotch. Before I was even settled in the driver’s seat, Jack was already asking me to turn on the radio. I asked if he had anything in mind, and he said that he wanted to listen to his dad’s favorite station. I obliged, switching the channel until I hit the right one, then started carefully backing out of the driveway.

As we pulled up to the cabin in the woods on the dirt road, I turned down the radio and took note of how none of the lights were on outside or inside, even though it was getting dark enough to need them— especially out in the woods.

After parking the car just out front, I turned around in my seat to get a look at Jack. “Stay here, little man. I’ll be back soon.” Jack nodded and looked down at his tablet to continue playing his game.

I got out of the car with the windows cracked a bit for Jack. Since the sun was practically gone and night time was beginning, it wasn’t warm enough to worry about Jack overheating, but still. Besides, I wasn’t planning on being inside for too long. If Gideon was there, I was going to ask if he was alright, talk to him a bit, maybe even see if Jack could sit inside while we talked. If Gideon wasn’t there, however, there was really no point in staying at all.

As I approached the front door, I looked over my shoulder to get another quick glance at the car to make sure that it was still there and Jack was still alright— as if something could have possibly happened within the past ten seconds or so. When everything seemed fine, I looked back to the front door and knocked a couple of times before taking a small step back to wait. A minute or so passed, yet no one came to the door. So I tried again and waited. Still nothing, so I tried the doorknob to see if he had locked up at all.

The door was unlocked and opened with ease as I carefully pushed in. I glanced again over my shoulder to look at the car and saw that Jack was still looking at his tablet. When I looked at the door again, I instinctively reached for my gun on my hip, only to find that there was nothing there. For a moment, I cursed Strauss and this damn suspension.

“Gideon?” I called his name carefully after taking a step into the dark cabin. I reached to the side and blindly searched for the lightswitch on the wall, but even as I found it and flicked it, nothing happened. The power hadn’t been used in a while. “Gideon?” I called again, using my phone’s screen as a flashlight. I should have brought one with me, or used the one from the emergency kit in the car, but I really wasn’t that smart to put it together yet. “It’s just me, Y/N.” Still no response. I shuffled over to the sofa where there was a camp lantern sitting on a table, and turned it on. It was a miracle that I finally had a more powerful light than just my flip phone’s inside screen. “Gideon?” Holding the lantern out in front of me, I walked into the kitchen area.

Sitting on the table ahead of me was a vase of dead flowers with Gideon’s credentials and gun propped up against it. Trapped beneath them, laying right against the table, was an envelope. I cautiously approached, just to triple check that the scene was what I expected it to be. Between the flowers and the gifts, I knew that Gideonn was long gone. He had set up the cabin for someone to find these things and understand that he wasn’t coming back. That was why the power was out, too. He had been gone for who knew how long, and we all just thought that he needed some space. I never in a million years thought that Gideon would just up and leave like this.

I grabbed the envelope, pulling it out from under his badge and gun, and lifted it up to the lamp to get a look at who it was addressed to. Spencer Reid. Of course. Like I said before, Gideon would never leave without telling Reid, that was how close they were. And while Gideon hadn’t given any heads up— probably because he didn’t want to be stopped— he left one last goodbye for the kid he considered to be a son to him. It was a letter just for him, and I had no right snooping, despite the urge to do so. I had my answers about Gideon. I knew why he left, I knew that he wasn’t okay, but I also knew that I would never be able to find him… and even if I did, was there a point in going after him? No. He wasn’t going to come back, no matter how much any of us begged and pleaded.

After I put the letter back down just as I had found it, I turned the lamp off and slowly made my way out of the cabin. The contents in that letter and the gifts that were left were for Reid, no one else. If Gideon wanted it that way, then that was how it was going to be.

I sighed as I got back into the car and flipped my phone open to call Hotch. He was probably already on the jet home, but I figured that I should tell him about Gideon as soon as possible, and that Reid should come out to the cabin, too. Jack was dead asleep in the back seat as I caught a glimpse of him through the rearview mirror to make sure that he was alright. His mouth was open, drool dripping onto the seat belt he was resting his head on. I chuckled quietly at him and made a silent promise to myself that I would get him home as soon as possible.

The call rang a couple of times as Hotch was likely digging around in all of his pockets to find his phone. After a few moments, the ringing stopped and I heard Hotch whisper a “Hello?” into the phone. The team must have been asleep on the jet and he was trying to be courteous by not waking them up when answering my call.

“Hi, baby,” I said into the phone, picking at the leather on the steering wheel to occupy myself.

I heard Hotch sigh with relief. “I’m so glad to hear your voice.” I could practically hear him smiling through the call. “I was going to call, but everyone crashed as soon as we took off. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just wanted to let you know that Jack and I are out at Gideon’s cabin, and he’s not here.” I looked through the rearview mirror again to make sure that Jack was still asleep. “He’s gone, Hotch. He left a note for Spencer and he ran. I don’t think he’s coming back.”

“Because of Sarah?”

“I didn’t read the letter, but that’s my best guess.” My gaze was still trained on Jack. “I don’t blame him…”

“What do you mean?”

“If I lost one of you, I wouldn’t want to go back either.”

It was true. Hotch and Jack were my life now. Even if I had my job back now, if I lost one of them, I knew that I could never go back to work without being completely… lost and empty. Even worse was if I were to lose them to an Unsub, just like Gideon lost Sarah to Frank. If that happened, how was I supposed to trust myself to do my job— which was saving lives by putting bad people away— if I couldn’t even save those closest to me? If I didn’t have Jack or Hotch suddenly, I wasn’t sure if I would even be able function. Just being away from Hotch for the day while he was gone on his case felt like the end of the world. I couldn’t imagine having to be away from him any longer than that. I’d probably stop breathing altogether.

“You’re not going to lose us,” Hotch promised quietly, like he was feeling the same aching in his chest that I had. It hurt to even think about the worst. “I won't let anything happen to our family. Do you hear me?” I nodded, even though he couldn’t see me. “I love you.”

It hadn’t dawned on me quite yet what he said. Subconsciously, I processed his words and found comfort in them, but it wasn’t until he told me he had to go, and we exchanged one “I love you” each, then ended the call that I suddenly realized. It hit me like a train, hearing his words echo in my mind over and over again. Our family. He said that he wouldn’t let anything happen to our family. Deep down, I knew that I was his family, I guess, because I knew that him and Jack were mine, but to hear him finally say it aloud, I felt some kind of weight lift off my chest. I felt lighter and happier as I ran through what he said again. Our family. It felt like joining a club of sorts. Dating someone who already had a family was odd at first, because I felt like the outsider who had to find my place in the mess; but I liked how things turned out for us. Hotch and I seemed unbreakable and inseparable, I loved Jack like he was my own, and Haley and I actually, somehow, liked each other. There was no tension between me and Jack’s mother, which was probably a bigger relief for Hotch and Jack than for me. But I liked the dynamic, I liked our family. I liked that Hotch finally included me in the club, even though I technically had a membership for the past couple of months.

Was I crazy to be so in love with Aaron Hotchner? He was older than me, he had a son, he was my boss, he was entirely vanilla until he met me, and we seemed glued to the freaking hip. We hadn’t even been dating for that long. Everything happened so fast. I had only been working for him for a month, and suddenly we were going out, and a few months later, I was meeting his son and moving in with him. Were we moving too fast? Was that really why he didn’t want to talk about having kids with me in St. Louis? Perhaps I was a little too blinded by love to see that we were jumping the gun.

No.

We were happy. We were in love. I had never, ever felt this way before, and I wasn’t about to start ignoring those feelings. Why would I impede something that was so perfect? We deserved happiness. We deserved what we had. We deserved to move at whatever pace we saw fit, because Gideon and Sarah were proof that nothing was guaranteed. Something horrible could happen to us at any given moment, especially considering our career choice, so it made sense that we would want to have all of each other as fast as possible in order to not miss out anything.

Jack suddenly started snoring, earning a laugh from me as I broke away from my train of thought. I loved him so freaking much, there weren’t enough words to describe. When it came to loving Hotch, it was a fiery passion where I needed to feel, see, and hear him at all times. I needed to be around him 24/7 or I felt like a piece of me was missing. I know that’s, like, anti-feminist ideals— but it was true. Hotch completed a part of me that I didn’t realize I was missing, and without him around, that hole in my soul was impossible to not notice. When it came to loving Jack, though, it was in the kind of way that a mother bear would protect its cub. I knew that Jack wasn’t really my son, and there was always a chance that he could grow to hate me because he could think that I was trying to replace his mother— which I wasn’t, of course— or if Hotch and I ever separated for any reason, I wasn’t required to see Jack ever again. But I knew that I would protect him like he was my own. I would love him like he was my own. He was my family, afterall. He was our family. It felt so freaking good to admit that again. Our family.

Honestly, if I didn’t get my job back at the BAU, it didn’t sound horrible to just spend my time looking after Jack whenever we would have custody of him. I liked how we worked the case together. It was like doing junior detective work— or like he would call it “junior Superhero homework”.

As I started the car and turned on the headlights so that we could get home in time to meet Hotch, I heard Jack waking back up. I checked the rearview mirror again to see his eyes fluttering open. He wiped his eyes and looked around to see what was going on. “Are we going home?” he asked tiredly.

“Yeah, little man. Try to get some sleep.”

He nodded and nuzzled up against the seatbelt again. “Hey, Y/N?” I hummed a note that told him I was listening. “I love you.”

My shoulders slumped, my eyes softened, and my heart melted in my chest. “I love you, too, little man. I love you, too.”

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #aaron hotchner #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner imagines

42 notes · View notes

seriouslyhooked · 3 years

Text

Can’t Say No (At Christmas)

CS one-shot set in the future. Hope is three and Emma and Killian are still very much in the throws of a happily ever after, but Killian wants to do something special for Emma for Christmas. With the help of their family and the town, he manages to fulfill a Christmas wish for his wife in exactly the kind of over-the-top fluffy and sweet way you’d expect from me. Includes holiday surprises, Christmas cheer, and a healthy dash of true love. Rated T. Available on FF Here and AO3 Here.

A/N: Hey all! I really did not know if I was going to be able to get this drabble done, but I am so happy to say that I did and to share it with you all tonight. I know that this Christmas is going to be so different for so many of us, and that it has been a hard year of uncertainty and stress. My gift to our little fandom is this story, focused on Emma and Killian a few years after we got to see them in the show. It’s inspired by the spirit of Christmas, the cheesiness that only Hallmark movies can provide, and the song ‘No Problem’ by Dylan Schneider. I love the idea that Killian cannot deny Emma anything, and that at Christmas he has to make Emma’s wishes come true. I hate to spoil any more of this, but I will just say thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy!

“I don’t know how the hell you pulled this off, mate, but I got to hand it to you, this is really something special.”

The words David uttered from the bottom of the ladder were high praise, despite the dig at Killian’s favorite endearment. Tonight though, Killian would let the jab slide. He simply didn’t have the time or energy to pretend to argue with Emma’s father. Instead he hustled down the rungs and back to solid ground beside his friend. He took stock of the room once more, running his hand through his hair and tracing each corner of the barn with his gaze. There was very little about the place that was recognizable. It had been sufficiently transformed, from an old, dusty tomb of farm equipment, to a space fit for the evening ahead.

“It pays to be a good guy in the end,” Killian joked. Playing up the early days of their knowing each other when Killian was anything but a hero. “Turns out I’ve helped quite a lot of people these past few years. They were eager to return the favor.”

“That’s true enough, but I think the fact that you did this all for Emma plays a big part too.”

There was no doubt about that, and the mere reminder of his wife brought a smile to his lips. She was going to be surprised by this, and there was nothing that he loved more than surprising his Swan. Killian could hardly wait for the look of excitement that would spread across her face, and the light that would appear in her jade colored eyes. Her cheeks would flush from realization, and her hands would move unbiddenly, as if she couldn’t quite contain the excitement or suspense. Emma was always the most beautiful of women, and a miracle to be sure, but when treated to a gift that was truly worthy of her, she was transcendent, his own personal star and tempting taste of heaven.

“Any word from Snow?” Killian asked, checking his watch and seeing they had made good time, despite the hecticness of the day. He had enough time to catch a shower and prepare himself, but he needed to be sure that Emma and Hope were sufficiently occupied in the meantime.

“Better – she sent a video while you were hanging the last of the garland.”

David offered his phone and Killian laughed at the sight. Snow and Emma had taken Neal and Hope out of town to a nearby ski resort that was hosting all sorts of winter activities for kids. In the video Emma, Hope, and Neal were all making snow angels, until Neal gave the signal and he and Hope pivoted to throwing snowballs at Emma. The only problem was Hope was far too little and bundled up in snow gear to be effective. She was having the time of her life though, and at the end of the video, Emma scooped their daughter up and nuzzled her close, bestowing a kiss on her curly brown hair, which had escaped its winter cap. Hope was a dazzling blend of him and Emma, but her goodness and ability to inspire love was totally her mother’s doing.

“Perfect. You good here for the time being?” David nodded, pivoting from his assistant role to commander in chief with the quickness of one-time prince. Content that his tasks were in good hands, Killian headed out, eager to put the next parts of his plan in place.

Things moved quickly from there. He showered and readied himself for the kind of night his Emma had imagined, ignoring the strangeness of his reflection as he did. He would never feel quite right in these damn tuxedos, but Emma’s wish was specific and it included the blasted suit. It also included a number of gifts for Emma and for Hope, which he pulled from the one place in the house Emma never ventured to – the garage. From the back of the storage space there, he grabbed a number of boxes that he’d stuffed away last week, and brought them all inside. After checking the contents were free from any water or dirt, he was convinced things were as they should be, and he left the gifts underneath the Christmas tree.

The only thing left to craft was the note for Emma that would set her surprise in motion. He hadn’t dared to write it out before, wanting to save it for this moment. It felt right to speak from the heart and to put in words exactly how he felt tonight. Still, it took time to get the letter exactly right, and he must admit he grew a bit sentimental when crafting it. A time or two he fell into recent and more distant memories of their lives together, feeling the warmth in his soul that could only ever come from the truest love. Luckily, he had enough of his wits about him and time was on his side. Soon he heard the sound of a car pulling up the drive just as he closed the envelope with Emma’s name and placed it on the tree, and with the stealth accrued in his past life, he slipped out the back door just before his girls came in.

“Mama, look! Santa came early,” he heard Hope say as he quietly rounded the side of the house. For a moment he was truly tempted to steal a look and watch this scene play out, but he reminded himself that there was still more to be done, and instead headed down the street to where a not so patiently waiting Snow was parked.

“Killian, thank God! I thought you’d never get here!” she exclaimed as he opened the door, but before he could reply, young Neal let his own thoughts be known.

“Mom, it’s been like sixty seconds. Literally. Look, I timed it on the stopwatch Henry gave me. 63 seconds.

“No, has it only been a minute? I’m so excited I can’t tell. It feels like forever. I was waiting for this all day. It was so hard not to spill the beans.”

“But you didn’t, right?” Killian checked, pivoting to Neal for the truth. When the boy gave him a thumbs up, he let out a breath. “Good. But it all might be for not if we don’t get a move on.”

“Oh, right. We’ve got to go. We’ve got a Christmas miracle to deliver.” Neal groaned at the words and Killian remained quiet prompting Snow to ask the question, “Sorry, too cheesy?”

“For tonight? No, strangely it’s just right.”

And with that, they pulled away from the curb, headed back towards the barn and the long-awaited surprise.

……………….

“Mama, look! Santa came! Santa came!”

At first Emma didn’t understand the words from her daughter. She was just trying to get her bearings after peeling the snow clothes off of Hope and discarding her own jacket on the hook by the door. Her boots were barely off and her scarf was still wound around her neck. She couldn’t imagine how Hope still had so much energy, but then she remembered – three year olds were like comic book characters, with a super power of endless energy.

“Christmas Eve is tomorrow, honey,” Emma said, righting her clothes and letting go of a big breath, before walking towards the living room. “Two more sleeps until Santa.”

“But look, Mama, pwesents!”

Emma followed her daughters pointing finger across the way, and low and behold there were gifts under the tree that had not been there this morning. Her curiosity was peaked, but when she saw the white envelope secured in the branches of their evergreen tree, she had an inkling of what was happening.

“Killian,” she murmured walking forward, and running her fingertips across the delicate paper.

“Daddy?” Hope asked excitedly, and Emma nodded as she opened the envelope, only to fight off tears of love when she read the letter.

My Dearest Emma,

There are no gifts that I could ever give you that compare to all you’ve given me. I know and accept that, but this time of year is different. It’s a season predicated on love, light, and yes, even a bit of magic. So I had to try, for your sake and for mine.

Christmas is about showing the people you love what they mean to you. It’s about giving love and feeling love, and knowing that even in the dark of a winter night, there is hope and light ahead. It’s about reminding loved ones that you care, that you’re rooting for them, and that their dreams are your dreams too. You taught me that, you and Hope and Henry, and I swear to you that all I could ever want is to make you happy, and to grant the wishes you carry in your heart.

“Ooo, pwetty,” Hope said, dragging Emma’s eyes down to where her daughter had already begun opening the parcels below. Inside the white garment box was a gorgeous crimson colored dress, breathtaking in its elegant design. The satin and the beading were exquisite, and the color was to die for, and like something from a dream. Hope offered the box to her, knowing even at age three that it wasn’t the right size for her. “For you, Mama.”

“Thank you, princess,” Emma said, taking the box in hand, wanting to look at it in full, but knowing the letter was still more important.

You are everything to me, Emma. Everything and so much more. You and our children hold my whole universe in your hands. Tonight, I hope to take your hand in mine, and remind you that in life, all you really need is the perfect partner.

“He didn’t,” Emma whispered, looking down from the letter which had been signed with love by her pirate. Then she looked at the other presents Hope was opening. A beautiful pair of heels, a white fur muff, and a necklace that sparkled, along with all the same things for Hope that were more their daughter’s style and perfect for her size. The last gift was another envelope, with a card. On the top in cursive script it read ‘Selected Suitors for Emma Jones’ and the only name was Killian’s. “Oh my god, he did. It’s a dance. He planned a Christmas dance for me.”

“Dance?” Hope asked and Emma crouched down to help her daughter really open her own garment box, where a beautiful princess-style dress was waiting for her. As soon as she saw it Hope let out a sound of pure delight, clapping her hands together at a hastened clip. At that moment, the front door opened, and Emma looked, expecting to see Killian but instead seeing her son, dressed up in a tuxedo and looking downright dashing. It would have been a shock either way, but this year, when she’d been bracing herself for her son being away for the holiday, it felt like an even greater gift.

“Henry?” she asked, as Hope bolted for her brother. Instinctively, Henry scooped her up, accepting all her hugs and kisses before turning his eyes back to Emma.

“Surprise! Well, part of it anyway. But we’ve got to get a move on, or we’ll be late.”

“Where are we going?” Hope asked. Henry responded by whispering in her ear, low enough that Emma couldn’t hear. Whatever he said made Hope gasp. “Really? We’re going there?”

“Sure are. But we have to get ready. Don’t worry, Mom, I’ve got Hope. You do what you need to do.”

Emma was spurred into motion, grabbing the gifts marked for her and heading upstairs. In thirty minutes, she and Hope were both ready for whatever awaited them, and though Emma had her suspicions, she was in no way prepared when they arrived at the old McDonald farm. Pulling around back to the barn, there were dozens of people milling around. Everyone in town was here tonight, dressed up and partaking in merriment, but when they left the car and walked inside, Emma was truly stunned.

“It’s beautiful,” she said aloud, taking in the gorgeous decorations. The space was totally transformed, a perfect blend of rustic refinement. The colors were vivid and vibrant, the air was warm and filled with the scent of cinnamon and honey, and the joy here was palpable. There was a buzzing electricity that crackled in the air. This was what all those Christmas movies strove to recreate but could never quite capture, and Emma took it all in knowing that her husband had made this just for her.

Scanning the room for him, Emma was first greeted with the sight of her Mom and Dad and brother. They came forward immediately, hugging her and Hope and Henry and extending their thoughts.

“Oh, honey, you look spectacular!” her mother exclaimed with tears in her eyes, holding her hands and looking at her red dress. It was a truly wonderous design, that hugged every one of Emma’s curves just right while still feeling of the season. It was classic and timeless and more than a little sexy, but it was appropriate for the night, when everyone was dressed to the nines.

“So do you guys,” Emma said honestly, taking in her mom’s sapphire ball gown, and her Dad and brother’s tuxes.

“I’m a princess, Grandpa,” Hope said happily and Emma’s father immediately agreed as the band began to play a slower melody.

“There’s no denying that. Care to dance with me, Princess Hope?” He asked, bowing to her daughter. Hope giggled but took Emma’s hand instinctively, looking at her for permission and clarity.

“What about you, Mama?”

“Don’t worry, sprout,” Henry said nodding across the room and using his favorite nickname for his sister. “Dad’s got her taken care of.”

Emma’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Killian, as if this was a first date and not years into their marriage. She couldn’t help the butterflies swarming within her, and then, like magic the crowd of people parted, and there, across the room was her man. It should have come as no surprise how handsome he would look. Emma was well versed in how roguishly hot her pirate could be, but in a tux it was a whole other story. Maybe it was the rarity of seeing him like this, or maybe Killian was just one of those men who was born to wear a tux, but either way she was struck by him. Everything seemed to stop around her, and all she could sense was the man who completely owned her heart.

A few moments later they were together again. Emma hadn’t even realize she’d been walking towards him, and him to her, but when he took her hand she felt her blood hum in anticipation. She was caught in his eyes, sensing the mixture of love and desire that was so intoxicating, and waiting for him to speak, because words in this moment truly failed her.

“You look stunning, Swan,” he said to her, the gravel of his tone washing over her and sending a shiver down her spine in that delicious kind of way. “The fantasies I’d conjured in my mind’s eye could never do you justice.”

“So you were fantasizing about this, huh?” she asked, her voice thready as she turned, purposefully taunting him with a view of all her best angles. This time he let out a low growl that spiked her desire to tease him. God damn, there were people around! How could she be this hot and bothered? Oh right, she was married to a sinfully attractive and impossibly romantic man. This was par for the course.

“Aye, love, and I promise those musings will prove more than satisfactory when we get home.” His voice dipped low and she swallowed hard, trying to tamp down her own building need. Then something shifted in his eyes, and she knew before he said a word that something immensely thoughtful was about to be shared. “I hope it’s everything that you wanted, love. Those blasted ‘Hallmark towns’ have a lot more built-in Christmas cheer than Storybrooke, but all it took was a hint that this was what you wanted, and everyone came together.”

It dawned on her that the wish he was referring to was one that she’d made a few weekends ago when they were laying in bed watching TV. She usually skipped the Hallmark Christmas extravaganza, but this year she was feeling sentimental. Maybe it was the fact that Hope was finally hitting an age where she was starting to understand the season, or more likely it was the pregnancy hormones from their little one on the way. She was only twelve weeks along, and wasn’t even showing yet, but her self-coined pregnancy induced crazy brain was in full swing, and had been from the start. The only thing getting her through most days was Killian, and then he went and did something like this… it was too much for her, she couldn’t take it.

“I love you,” she confessed, blurting it out like it was some big secret instead of established fact. “Like a lot. A lot a lot.”

“A lot a lot,” Killian parroted with a grin, pulling her with him out to the dance floor before taking her in his arms. She melded into his muscled physique, trying not to swoon as the melody carried them away.

“You know I’m not as good at the whole poetic declarations thing as you are.”

“Few can be, love,” he joked. She raised her brow at him in quiet consternation, and he only laughed before turning her into a low dip on the dance floor and reminding her that he was in total control of himself out here. “But where words might fail you, action is your strong suit. You show me every day how much you love me, Emma. And every day I thank my lucky stars to have that love.”

He made a fair point. Emma was, after all, a woman of action, and so she decided to take some now. Though they were dancing, she stalled their moment to pull him in for a kiss, giving them both a taste of what was to come when the night drew to a close. The sparks between them ignited instantly, and without looking, Emma knew some of her magic was radiating from within. When they pulled apart she was almost dizzy from the delight, but Killian was even more effected. He had that boyish grin of his in full display, and that tiny hint of bashfulness that came when he’d done something really well. Only when she heard the oohing and aahing of the people around them did she realize their magic had created stars along the ceiling of the barn, making it appear that they were all dancing under an inky black sky bursting with constellations.

From a distance, Emma heard her daughter ask if it was ‘magic time’ now, but before she and Killian needed to step in, Regina told her ‘Not tonight, kid,’ and Henry whisked her off for her another dance. This gave Emma and Killian time, time to enjoy the fruits of all he’d done, and to revel in this moment for as long as they could.

“Merry Christmas, Killian. You’ve made it so perfect, I never want it to end.”

“What is it they say in those movies, love? Oh right – every day is Christmas when we’re together.”

And even though it was horribly corny, and she should have rolled her eyes at such a lame joke, Emma found that she couldn’t. She was simply too happy and grateful to feign otherwise. Instead she savored every moment of their Christmas dance, and the night they shared thereafter, knowing this would be one of the best days she’d ever had, and that somehow, some way, her pirate would find other means of making the future just as bright.

……………………

Girl I got a no problem Yeah, it's a bad habit, the way I gotta have it With or without you around All ya gotta do is call me, and tell me that you're lonely You're always stringing me out Yeah, they say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, so here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Girl, I should know better, yeah, I should know never To let you in just to leave If it's just two letters, then why can't I ever Find a way to piece 'em together Let's say the first step to quitting it Is admitting it, I'm admitting it, here it is Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Yeah, you already know if you're asking me What the answer's always gonna be It's gonna be, yeah Girl, I think I got a no problem On my hands, 'cause I can't say no to you Once you start you know I can't stop it Even if I wanted to Yeah, I get tongue tied every time I try To do what I oughta do Girl, I got a no problem Yeah, 'cause I can't say no to you Those smokey blue eyes staring back at me Can't say no to you Yeah, you already know if you're asking me Girl, I got a no problem That the answer's always gonna be 'Cause I can't say no to you Girl, I got a no problem 'Cause I can't say no to you

Post-Note: So, what did you think? Hopefully you enjoyed this little dose of holiday cuteness and none of this is offensive in any way or to any story line. Most of you know I never watched the last season of the show, so I don’t know what they say happened to Henry and everybody. I only knew Emma and Killian did eventually have a baby girl named Hope. Anyway, I want to wish all of you a very Merry Christmas and healthy holiday season. I am grateful for you all, from the ride or die readers who comment on every post, to the people passing by who just wanted a little bit of Christmas cheer. You are such a force for good in my world, whoever you are, and I thank you for your light and kindness in these trying time. I wish you all the best this Christmas and in the New Year, and more than anything I wish you love! Sending my best vibes your way now and always, xE.

The Captain Swan Mixtape oneshot series:

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9,Part 10,Part 11, Part 12,Part 13, Part 14, Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20, Part 21, Part 22, Part 23, Part 24,Part 25, Part 26, Part 27, Part 28, Part 29, Part 30, Part 31,Part 32, Part 33, Part 34, Part 35, Part 36, Part 37, Part 38,Part 39,Part 40, Part 41, Part 42, Part 43, Part 44, Part 45,Part 46,Part 47, Part 48, Part 49, Part 50, Part 51, Part 52, Part 53,Part 54,Part 55, Part 56, Part 57, Part 58, Part 59, Part 60,Part 61,Part 62, Part 63, Part 64, Part 65, Part 66, Part 67, Part 68,Part 69,Part 70, Part 71, Part 72, Part 73, Part 74, Part 75,Part 76,Part 77, Part 78, Part 79, Part 80, Part 81, Part 82, Part 83,Part 84,Part 85, Part 86, Part 87, Part 88, Part 89, Part 90,Part 91,Part 92, Part 93, Part 94, Part 95, Part 96, Part 97, Part 98,Part 99,Part 100, Part 101, Part 102, Part 103,Part 104, Part 105,Part 106, Part 107,Part 108, Part 109, Part 110,Part 111, Part 112,Part 113, Part 114, Part 115,Part 116, Part 117, Part 118,Part 119,Part 120, Part 121, Part 122, Part 123,Part 124, Part 125,Part 126, Part 127, Part 128,Part 129,Part 130, Part 131,Part 132,Part 133, Part 134, Part 135, Part 136, Part 137, Part 138,Part 139,Part 140, Part 141, Part 142, Part 143, Part 144, Part 145,Part 146, Part 147, Part 148,Part 149, Part 150, Part 151,Part 152, Part 153, Part 154, Part 155, Part 156, Part 157, Part 158,Part 159, Part 160, Part 161, Part 162, Part 163, Part 164,Part 165, Part 166, Part 167, Part 168, Part 169, Part 170,Part 171,Part 172, Part 173, Part 174, Part 175, Part 176,Part 177, Part 178, Part 179 , Part 180, Part 181, Part 182, Part 183, Part 184, Part 185, Part 186, Part 187, Part 188, Part 189, Part 190, Part 191, Part 192, Part 193, Part 194, Part 195

28 notes · View notes