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daniveigt · 2 years

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Every part of you.

Summary: The reader is a painter and after asking the boys a lot they let her do a painting of them.

Pairing: Steven Grant, Marc Spector and Jake Lockley.

Warnings: fluff, some crying, but nothing really sad. It's just love, and more love.

a/n-sooo... I had this idea before going to sleep, scrolling through twitter. I saw this very cute drawing of the three together, but when I went to save the page it updated. I hope it's okay, it's been a while since I wrote. Remembering that English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes. hope you like it! Written on my cell phone.

gif credits to the owner!!!

Steven was the first to accept. He didn't even think twice when I brought the idea to him. Every time he had the opportunity to see me painting he was by my side. Always with his eyes attentive to every movement of the brush, to the shades of color and with a compliment on the tip of her tongue and a chamomile tea in his hand.

Marc and Jake... I already knew I would have a job convincing them.

2 days after asking Steven I asked Marc. When Marc was around and I painted he was always in front of me with a cup of coffee in his hand trying to read some book about Egypt that Steven asked him to read and the computer open. Marc could never finish the books, or understand anything about them, but he made that effort for Steven. I stopped my work, painting a landscape from some image I'd seen in one of Steven's books.

"You're looking..." Marc said already with a slight smile on his face. "Can I ask you something?" He looked up from the book and I saw a little apprehension on his face that he tried to mask with confusion. "It's no big deal, I promise." I took a deep breath and with anxiety already coursing through my veins I continued: "I was wondering if I could paint you." Marc's face lights up and suddenly closes: "Baby, are you sure, me? Do you, um, want to...paint me?" His voice dripping with confusion and insecurity: "But of course honey, you're the most beautiful person that my eyes have ever seen, you're my muse. It would be weird if I didn't want to paint you." He took a deep breath, closed the book, took a sip of coffee, closed his eyes, opened them and looked at me so softly that I ended up dropping the brush on the floor and said, "Of course love, whenever you want. Anything for you ."

---

Jake is always sitting at the window behind where I usually paint, with a notebook in his hands writing and scribbling thoughts. Once I saw a poem for me in this notebook. I cried for 30 minutes rereading all the sweet words. If I told someone that my super scary handsome boyfriend writes poems and poetry, they wouldn't believe it.

Not that I would tell anyone about it. Never.

As I finished the same painting of some pyramid I repeated the same question that I asked Marc without a second thought. "Jake, can I paint you?" The sound of the pen on paper stopped immediately and I heard the rustle of clothes in my direction. He hugged me from behind and placed his face on my neck sucking in air and a sense of peace embraced me. "Yes. But only if you come to bed with me, Hermosa." And so without a second thought, I closed my paints, put the brush in the water, wiped my hands and went to bed with him.

---

One week later, on a Thursday night after dinner I started my work. Steven was the first one that I started. He was nervous. I took my paints and canvas into the living room and instructed him to sit in the middle of the couch, sit and relax. I made him some tea and grabbed his favorite book and glasses. He silently thanked, took a sip of his tea and began to read. "Can you read it aloud dear?" I asked as I mixed the paints until I got the right skin tone. He nodded and started. And the sound of his voice lulled me and I started to paint.

4 hours later I was done. Steve asked to see it and I declined. I wasn't finished yet. I kept the painting while he waited in the living room and we went to bed.

-----

On Friday it was Jake's turn. Today was his day to go out and work with the limo. I gave him the same guidance that I gave to Steven. I made him sit on the sofa, on the right side, handed him his notebook and a pen and a glass of water and got to work. 4 hours later I finished. I have to ran from him so he wouldn't see the painting and went to bed with him.

----

Saturday. It was Marc's turn. I started this morning after breakfast. I made him sit on the sofa to the left, handed him the computer, a cup of coffee, glasses and a book and went to my seat. Marc smiled at me, put his glasses on his face and started fiddling with the computer. 3 hours later I had finished it. I warned him and as much as he begged to see it I managed to say no and went to finish the last details and put it to dry. Then I put everything away and sat next to him on the couch.

----

On Sunday the paint was already dry. I took it, put it on the table and put a white cloth over it and went to make breakfast.

Marc's Pov-

Marc woke up looking for her, not understanding where she would be so early on a Sunday morning. He got up, went to the bathroom, brushed his teeth and looked at Steven and Jake in his reflection. "Where is she?" Steven asked still trying to understand what was going on. "She must have lost sleep Steven." Jake started to reassure him. Marc finished brushing his teeth, smiled at them and headed for the kitchen, finding you finishing up the food.

"Good morning love" His hoarse voice making her jump and put her hand on her heart in fright. "Marc what are you doing awake? It was supposed to be breakfast in bed." I smiled seeing her face turn towards me with a slight frown. I immediately came forward and hugged her, "I missed you." "Go sit down dear, I have a surprise for you on the table, but please don't open it yet." With a kiss on her cheek I pulled away and headed towards the table, only now noticing the large rectangle covered by a cloth on top of the table.

"What is it?" Steven asked, looking up from the reflection in Gus's aquarium glass. "We'll have to wait and see buddy." I replied and she came towards me with a plate and a cup of coffee in her hand. Putting it on the table I pulled her into my lap and kissed her. "Hey." "Hey. You didn't peek did you?" she asked with a smile on her face. "No, I swear." I said taking a piece of bread off the plate smiling brightly at her. "Great, I want to see your reaction and the boys' too." She got up and walked towards the object on the table. "What do you mean the boys too?" I asked. Jake and Steven wondered the same thing in their reflection. "You'll see." She said handing me the object still with the cloth in it. "Please, if you don't like it let me know. Do you promise?" Her face was lined with nervousness and her hands were shaking slightly as I took the object from her hand. "Love, anything that comes from you I will like. And the boys think the same." Her face lit up momentarily and she motioned with her hands for me to continue and remove the wrapping paper.

The shock I got when I took the wrapping off came right away. My breath hitched and I heard Jake and Steven's hitch too. My hands started to shake and my eyes started to blur. By this time Steven was already crying and Jake was strangely silent. But I didn't turn to look at them. It was a painting. The painting she said she wanted to do of me and the boys. I did not expect it. When she asked each of us if she could paint us I thought she was going to do something simple, just one.

In the picture in front of me I could see our living room, with Steven's books in the background, the windows overlooking London. The table in the back filled with more books and papers with notes. And on the couch the 3 of us. Me, Steven and Jake. Steven was in the middle, reading a book, glasses on the end of his nose and his hair a mess. Jake was on the right, writing in his notebook with his hand in his hair and his legs on the coffee table. Squinted eyes trying to understand what he wrote. And I, on the left side with the computer leaning on my legs with a slight smile in my hand. I was shaking so hard, trying not to cry.

"Let me take over Marc." Jake said and I allowed it. "Hermosa, I-I, we don't even know what to say." I lifted my eyes to meet hers and was greeted with tears in her eyes and a small smile. "I-I, just wanted to show you guys with my eyes, I hope I did a good job." A small tear rolled down my cheek and Steven took the body and all the other tears came down. "Honey, it's, it's… amazing. I, I, love you. We love you. I, just come here, please." She sat on my lap and hugged me tight. Then Marc took over the body. "Thanks."

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#steven grant #writing #moon knight #marc spector #jake lockley #steven with a v #fanfic #fluff #x reader #reader insert #marc x reader #steven x reader #moonknight x you #Moonknight fanfic

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sandwich-seeker · 7 months

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Here is a oneshot I wrote on Wattpad, I'm sorry it's bad...

This is based off a writing prompt I saw where you look in a book on a certain page on a certain row or whatever.

Never trust a dog with orange eyebrows

-from witches abroad by Terry Pratchett

Third person pov:

"Never trust a dog with orange eyebrows!" Coran warned ( my phone autocorrects coran to CORAN so I apologize if I don't realize and leave it there).

"There you go with your odd superstitions, do I really have to listen to them all?" Keith complained exhaustedly.

Coran looked him dead in the eyes. "Yes. AND NOW! On with what I was saying before I was rudely interrupted," coran ranted on about 'never get between two mirrors' and other odd superstitions.

Even Shiro was getting bored.

Lance finally spoke up "Can we go to the space mall now?"

Allura sighed, "coran I think they've learned their lesson from last time, just let them go."

"Okay, BUT! We will lend you some money this time as to not have a... Repeat... Of last time." Coran finished

~Time skip to when they got to the space mall brought to you by my lazy ass~

When they got to the space mall they were immediately unleashed, Keith froze as he saw a 'Spencer's' and a 'hot topic' right next to each other and went off in that direction.

Hunk saw a cooking store with appliances / ingredients and immediately went there to check it out.

Pidge went to look for some electrical things (as in computers /iPhones and shit).

Shiro went off to the Earth store to see what he could find.

And that left Lance. He was looking around when he saw something peculiar... It was a dog, a Rottweiler in fact, and it seemed to be beckoning him over.

Keiths pov:

I was grabbing practically everything from this place, there was t-shirts for MCR (RIP), Bullet for my Valentine, Picture us tiny, and other bands that I like.

After I was done shopping I went to the meetup spot at the fountain, hunk was the only one there already.

Hunk POV:

At the kitchen store I didn't really see anything of interest So I just grabbed some baking soda and chocolate chips, so I went back to the fountain.

Pidge POV:

While I was scavenging the electronics store, I saw a gaming console, I grabbed it but couldn't buy any games since I kind of blew all my money on the console. It doesn't matter though, I can just get some next time we go here.

I went to the meetup spot to see hunk and Keith already waiting.

Shiro POV:

The Earth store was filled with people, I didn't realize how popular it was. After a bit of Navigating through the maze of people, I found a mug that said '#1 dad'. I decided to buy that cuz the team already called me 'space dad ' so why not, and I headed back to the fountain.

Lance POV:

The dog seemed to be beckoning me towards it... I didn't really have anything better to do so I approached it.

Suddenly, it spoke, "hello! How are you? Anyways straight to business, I have a limited edition game update here on this hardware, I can give it to you, but with a price..."

"Wha- um... What's the price?" I say wearily.

"SHHHH! Nobody can know about this okay? And it only costs 500 GAC, so it's pretty cheap for what it is." Replies the dog, looking around.

"I mean... I don't have a cons-"

I was interrupted by the dog."300!"

"Wow... The price dropped really fast, sure I guess I'll buy it" I decided. I hand him 300 GAC and head back to the meetup spot.

3rd person POV:

When lance got there all the team members greeted him, and they all went back into the ship to go over what they bought.

(A/n: I'm listening to 'Picture us tiny' and 'MCR' and it's literally just beautiful♡ )

In the ship they started showing off what they bought.

"I didn't really find anything interesting, just some baking ingredients" hunk started, "what about you Shiro?"

"Since you guys are always calling me space dad, I thought that maybe I would buy this mug." Shiro says, showing off his '#1 dad' mug "what did you get Pidge?"

"Oh I just got a gaming console, unfortunately we don't have any games-"

"THAT'S PERFECT!" Lance exclaimed excitedly "I got this limited edition game!" He said holding up the hard drive.

Pidge looked at it closely, "yep, we could use that! Also did the author just say Lance 'exclaimed excitedly'??"

"Enough! Stop breaking the fourth wall, what did you get Keith?" Shiro said, trying to change the subject.

"Oh... Nothing interesting really." Keith replied wearily.

"Oh no! It's probably something super emo or whatever!" Lance said sheepishly.

"IT IS NOT!" Keith yelled well trying to shove his bag out of sight from the others, unfortunately, Lance saw him.

"OoOOhH! What's in there?" Lance grinned, grabbing at the bag. "Some emo band shirts!" he held up my 'MCR' shirts. Keith casually retreated to a corner.

"Stop making fun of Keith, He's literally hiding in a corner right now" Shiro said, motioning to him sulking in the corner.

"Whatever, why don't we try out this game?" Pidge said, reaching for the hard drive that Lance had bought.

They plugged it into the console and a picture of a spork showed up on the screen.

Hunk spoke up "is this game about sporks?"

Everybody was confused, Lance especially.

"You probably got scammed Lance." Keith said nonchalantly, as if it wasn't that big a deal.

Suddenly a sound voice came from the the console "Lance Charles McClain, seventeen, blue lion paladin, is thinking, about braiding Keith Akira Kogane, eighteen, red lion paladin's hair"

"I am not!" Lance yelled, agitated.

Pidge looked at him sceptically. "Whatever makes you sleep easy" she replied.

"SHUT YOUR QUIZNAK!"

"I don't think you're using that word correctly" Keith sighed.

"Keith Akira Kogane, eighteen, red lion paladin, is thinking of Lance Charles McClain, seventeen, blue lion paladin's eyes"

"WHAT THE FUCK!" Keith immediately yelled.

"OooOOohhHh" pidge smirked "seems like a ship-bot"

"Fuck off Pigeon" Keith snapped at them, "besides, we don't even know it actually knows what we're thinking".

"Well it seems pretty simple," Hunk implied "is that what you were thinking about?"

"...okay! You know what? Fine. I was thinking about braiding Keith's hair!" Lance admitted.

"Lance Charles McClain, seventeen, blue lion paladin, is thinking about Keith Akira Kogane, eighteen, red lion paladin, looking quote: "hot" with a braid" the spork said, unfazed.

Lance was insanely flustered "OKAY! That's it! We need to get this thing gone! That dog said it was a video game!"

Coran ran in to the room, "a dog sold you this?" He said frantically "what breed?"

"Um.. I think it was a Rottweiler... Why?" Lance answered.

Coran was frantic "SO IT HAD ORANGE EYEBROWS!?"

Keith sighed "I sincerely doubt it has anything to do with your superstitions" he said, unimpressed.

"IT MOST DEFINITELY DOES!" Coran exclaimed. "YOU SHOULD HAVE LISTENED TO ME!"

"Whatever..." Lance went and unplugged the hard drive.

"Hey!" Pidge yelped "that's my ship-bot!"

Keith got up and left to go to his room, he was exhausted after that interaction.

"Hey! Where are you going?" Lance said, going up to him.

"I'm going off to battery City" Keith replied sarcastically, continuing walking to his room.

Lance stopped him when it was just them in the hall. "So... You like my eyes?"

"And what if I do?"

"I was just wondering... If someone were to be a dude... And asked you out, do-um do you.. swing that way?" Lance asked nervously.

"If you're asking if I'm gay, then yes, I am incredibly gay." Keith was tired and wanted to go to sleep.

"Well... I just.. I just want to get this out of... The way um... I- um... I like you.... Like, like like you... And it's fine if you don't like me back-"

Keith interrupted him with a kiss, something they both wanted to happen for a long while.

Keith sperated from the kiss, "can you guess my answer?"

Lance smiled, "you are so cute"

They leaned in to kiss again when pidge came in the hall, "OH MY MOTHER FUCKING GOD THE SHIP HAS SAILED BITCHES!" They yelled.

"FUCKING GIVE US A MOMENT!" Keith retorted.

They saw Hunk casually slip 10$ to Pidge.

Keith sighed "Fuck it. Lance can we be boyfriends?"

"What are the chances I would say no to that?" Lance laughed

"I dunno, that's why I'm asking?"

"You are officially my space mullet boyfriend" lance said happily

"its not a mullet!" Keith went to his room "now I'm extremely tired from today's events can I go to sleep?"

A/n: how did you like it? It's my first one so I know it's garbage and stuff but it took a while because I lost motivation halfway through unfortunately.

#voltron legendary defender #voltron #keith kogane #klance #oneshot #fanfic #voltron fandom #voltron fanfic #vld keith #vld #vld lance

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mimine666 · 8 months

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@thevulcanbobdylan and @fracktastic tagged me for this. Thank you :)

The rules were:

Rules: reveal the titles of the documents in your WIP folder and tag as many people as there are documents. Let others ask questions about the ones that interest them and post snippets or explain the contents as you see fit!

I discovered, since my computer broke, that my iCloud hides a lot of work and I have a lot more stuff than I thought lol

- A Shandy fic where they go spend the holidays in Montreal. Started it while I was pregnant so like a lifetime ago and waiting for winter to get some more inspiration.

- Intimacy : found a ton of unfinished stuff so I’m going to update that but I kind of lost interest in it

- Getting caugh : I have a lot of ideas but when I write them down they don’t sound as good as in my head so I erased a lot of things and I’m not sure I’ll finish it lol

- an Adama/ Roslin AU I wrote, on paper, in French while I was pregnant (had a lot of time since I was sent back home to rest and avoid COVID lol). I really like it but I don’t know why I wrote it on paper and it’s so unpleasant to have to type it, proofread it …

- afterglow. I wrote à Laura version for a prompt and had à Sharon idea I kind of finished but need a lot of editing

And voila :)

#fanfiction #andy flynn #bill adama #laura roslin #roslin x adama #shandy #sharon raydor #space parents #major crimes

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ethan-a-levels · 1 year

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week 14

I wrote another draft and finalised it with out sir so I sent the first draft and my teacher really liked the concept and I decided to build on this story this was a very simple story based on one room

We enter a dark room which is dimly it just has enough light to see a boy wearing headphones that light up typing away into his computer we see him typing away into the key board we cut to the screen it looks like some kind of cryptic messages and he turns up the volume on his headphones and we hear the music leaking through he’s listing to some techno and jamming to it montages of him working on his laptop/ drinking water from his very organized table and crumpling notes that have been stuck to his laptop and throwing them in a dustbin

Its day time he has slept on the desk it self and his laptop is on and flashing all of a sudden, his phone rings and in a groggy state he tries to pick it up but drops his phone on to the ground he quickly picks it up and sees its his friend that has been calling him he already has gotten 10 missed calls from him he quickly calls him back

Hey what’s up in so sorry I had slept off I just finished running through the code and slept while it was getting updated wait give me a minute omg (he gets up from his chair in excitement)

from the phone what is what is everything good

give me a minute he connects his air pods to his phone before he continues

I think we finally got it I think we fucking cracked it he looks at his commuter it reads welcome please enter your commands

Okay he replies and types in turn of the table side lamp and relaxed a huge sigh and with his crossed fingers presses enter

The light turns off

We have done it we are going to be millionaires we have gotten it he tries another command and the ac turns on they are all very exited and happy

Just then a dog starts barking on the road and he says I wish that this dog would shut up man he barks on a daily it’s so annoying

His friend replies knowing you might figure a way to code your way may if you ask the software to shut him up may it might they both laugh and he replies with attest worth a try

He writes make the dog stop barking

And all of a sudden, the dog starts barking astonishment flushes his face and he is in shock and he is in absolute disbelief and screams no way no way this can be happening it’s just a coincidence he cuts the call off of a sudden and says let’s try something that can’t happen

I want Nicole to text me now

Just as he presses enter his phone dings

There is no way this is happening I don’t believe it I can control the world he looks up we see his shadow being casted on the wall and slowly we see horns growing out of his head in the shadows and we cut to a sinister grin on his face

Cut to title

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you-can-face-this · 2 years

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Hi!!! It's anon friend!! I haven't forgotten about you, I've just been unbelievably busy and I've lost track of whether i'd replied to your last answer or not. I'm so sorry I haven't been around. How are you doing? I assume you're finished for summer now right? are you up to much? i hope you are doing better now than you were when you wrote that answer, i'm absolutely still here and rooting for you. im sending you lots of love and good wishes <3

Hii anon friend!! Sorry for the super super late response omg my internship makes us use a work computer so I wasn’t rlly on here much these days! But yes now I’m in new york city for my summer internship which is crazy bc that’s been my dream since Taylor released 1989! lol unfortunately I have a bit of a crazy schedule (summer classes so I can graduate early, part time job bc I need money, etc) & can’t meet with my therapist while I’m here bc of stupid state laws so that’s been kinda rough but so many of my irl friend are actually also here for the summer & im meeting so many new ppl so that’s been super fun! Obviously I haven’t been at the internship for long but it’s starting to look like my dream job which is super cool as someone who had no idea wtf I wanted to do for the longest time lol

I’ve been doing so well & it’s been probs one of the best phases of my life tbh except my wonderful parents decided to come visit me :) for a whole month :) at a hotel a few blocks from my office :) they’ve been bothering me with making me help them find a place to stay & insisting they live with me etc etc even before they arrived, but now that they’re here I’m getting the shit all day hehe there are like negative boundaries (waiting in front of my office, trying to follow me into my apt) & the expectation is that I’ll drop all of my commitments (ofc my social but also even my professional & academic) to meet with and talk to them whenever tf they want :) so yeah that’s pretty disgusting but I’ve been trying to still somewhat enjoy all these other things going for me by reminding myself that this is going to be over in a month & then I won’t have to see them ever again :) but yea that was my lil life update & I hope ur less busy + can rest more now!! Sending u lots of love too <33

#anon friend #<3 #anon #answered

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mintandcoldwater · 3 years

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Yeah, you remember how I said Bakugou bites people?

I was thinking about how that was a cat like thing so here we have

Cat-suki Headcanons

I’ve decided that he kneads people too. Like dough.

If he’s comfortable he will grab their hand and just start pressing into it and ‘kneading it’

But it’s not only hands. He will do it to people’s stomach, cheeks, anywhere he can get his hands on. He kneads Kiri’s hands often, or his cheeks. Will also roughly yank and press down on Deku’s cheeks too.

He grooms people. Will stop and fluff the back of Mina’s hair if it’s a bit flat, or wil grumble and button Denki’s vest properly. Just ticking them up a bit, even when he doesn’t give two shits about his uniform.

He definitely does the head butting thing. When he’s sitting beside someone he’s comfortable with, he’ll knock their heads together. Or just bump his head against their arm if they’re both sitting down.

Instead of scratching to leave marks, he’ll write on people. Little ‘Bakugou💥’ on arms or legs, or ‘Bakugou was here’ in the corner of their books or the tag of their clothes. He left an orange ‘B’ sticker on one of Jirou’s guitars, and nearly all of Sero’s jeans have an orange explosion on the cuffs.

He does the slow blink too. Of Class 1A Todoroki (or Shinsou perhaps) is the first one to recognize it for what it is and he nearly cried

#minty bakugou hc #spreading the disgruntled cat Bakugou agenda one post at a time #I wrote this while waiting on my computer to finish updating #sigh #minty bakusquad hc #bakugou headcanons #bakusquad headcanons #bakugou katsuki #kirishima eijirou #izuku midoriya #mina ashido #denki kaminari #jirou kyouka #sero hanta #todoroki shoto #shinsou hitoshi #minty hc

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luxshine · 3 years

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Smallish update because I’ve seen some missunderstandigns going on.

Ok, so yesterday was a day.

I am still reeling of a lot of it, which is why I have not been able to do a transcription of the panel (although the ones I’ve reblogged, made by other people, are very accurate and their only “fault” is not being in my head to know why I had some troubles translating Guillermo’s long answers as he spoke too quickly and too passionately so I had to paraphrase rather than translate literally as I did with the shorter answers, and at some points, I admit my short term memory may have failed me)

I am trying to get the panel off the facebook page to put it on my youtube (With permission from Harlecon’s organizer, Harleyquinnarts, whom you should all follow in Instagram and follow Harlecon on facebook because she’s amazing and made this possible by giving us the space to have the panel. BTW, I have heard that there IS a version already on youtube? If it is, please, please, please, put a link back to Harlecon on it, yes? These small cons deserve all our support)

I am ALSO trying to contact Adrian Fogarty, the dubbing director (NOT the translator, as some people are mis-reporting) who is, in the end, the one who has the answers as to where the hell the “Me too” came from.

Which is the missreporting I;ve seen going around, and which I need to adress.

During the panel, Mr. Rojas went from talking about the “Original” Script to the “DUB” Original Script without making it obvious that there was a different. Understand, for MOST actors, when they talk about the Original Script, they’re NOT talking about the Original English Script. They don’t get that. They get the Original TRANSLATED script, which can be then FURTHER changed by them or the director in order to fit cadence, and lip sync.

And yes, we come again to my old nemesis, lip sync.

So he said that the original script said “Me Too”, as a reply to Cas’s “I love you”, and THEN Alejandro Fogarty, who has a TON of experience adapting on the fly, and is a very respected dubbing director, changed it to “And I you,Cas” because it fit better Dean’s lip movements.

This DOESN’T mean that Fogarty ADDED the Me Too. IT WAS on the Original DUB Script that Guillermo was reading.

He said that Dean didn’t reciprocate Castiel’s words too, but that was AFTER he said he didn’t HEAR what Dean originally said (Which, granted, could be him misremembering as he admitted he had a bad short term memory). This is not to say that he lied when he said Dean didn’t reciprocate, but that that’ts the reason why two different versions of what he said may be running around. This was when I said that then we had to ask Fogarty about the origin of the dub script “Me Too” as he’d probably be the one who knows.

He also said that while it was a surprise, that the writers had been very subtle creating the story between Dean and Castiel, and that it made SENSE.

There are a few things I could say here about voice actor culture, but I won’t as it could muddy the issue and I want to wait until I finish the transcription.

What he corrected from my previous assumptions was that there was no Warner Bros quality control. They finish dubbing, then send it to air and as far as HE knows, there’s no WB exec checking the files. He admitted he might be wrong on that, but it’s more probable that he’s right. So IF the “Me too” was added, there would be no final check to stop it. HOWEVER, there has been no request to RE-Dub the line, so we can assume that, now that the horse is out of the barn, WB and CW don’t really care that, in Mexico and LataM, Dean Winchester is bisexual, canonically.

Which brings us back to the REAL question: Where did that Me Too came from?

Now, I want to make clear this I DON’T BELIEVE THERE’S A BIG CW CONSPIRACY TO KEEP DEAN STRAIGHT. What I do believe is that, due to a bunch of mismanagement of the series, PR, confusion of what their demography is, old-boys club mentality AND good ol’ network censorship, they may have ended up accidentally creating the ILLUSION of one.

And to be honest, I preffer to know the ACTUAL truth, which could very well be a rogue dub director (Which, if you check my previous posts, was a possibility I raised, that if there HAD been a rogue dub translator, the director HAD to be on it too), or a different audio version sent from the US.

I’ve seen script captures from the Original English Script that were leaked, and there Dean doesn’t reply ANYTHING. Not “Me too”, not “Don’t do this, CAs”. HE just goes 404,File not found, Being Loved by an angel, doesn’t compute.

So we know that DEan’s answer in english was Ad libbed by Jensen.

However, we also know that Jensen had to re-record some lines.

So he could’ve ad-libbed again, something different (Either by choice, or by the director’s request. I frankly don’t know nor care. I just assume that there were two different readings and the “wrong” one was sent to the Latam Translator. Wrong here to mean “not the one that aired in the US”)

And the only way we’re going to get closer to which was it, is asking the dub director, which is what I am trying to do. And I do hope that by now, you trust me enough to know that, IF the answer was “Oh, yeah, we decided that it was more logical” , I’ll tell you straight (Or, you know, organize another panel so that you hear it from the horse’s mouth just as I did with Guillermo Rojas)

Also, yes, Guillermo didn’t say the words “I ship Destiel” or “I am a Heller”. However, he DID say that the ending of the arc of Dean and Castiel having a love story was the closing of the series, that Dean reciprocating Cas’s feelings made it make sense and that it was beautiful. So he is a heller, in spirit if not in name.

ETA: I had to fix Adrian Fogarty’s name as someone pointed out I wrote “Alejandro Fogarty” and this proves that I need at least a week of sleep as this show has broken my brain.

#mexican supernatural dub #supernatural dub #mexican dub #dean winchester is bilingual #dean winchester is bi #Guillermo Rojas is the MVP #Guillermo Rojas for Soldierboy

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the-night-writer1 · 2 years

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Unforeseen Consequences part 5

This part will not make sense if you haven't read the previous parts. I'll updates this with links when I learn how)

There was a moment of silence between the three. It was soul crushing to Red son as he turned to hide in Mk's embrace. Starting to show visible tears once more.

Then he was pulled into his uncle's embrace by a hug and a sweet peach tone,"lǐwù it's going alright."

He ran his fingers through Red's hair as he tried to reassure his nephew. To give Red son the kind of parental comfort he probably wouldn't be getting from his parents anytime soon. Red son hugged him back.

" uncle's here I gotcha kiddo" Wukong said as he continued to comb his fingers through Red son's hair. Mk got off the bed so Wukong could scoot on to get a better hold of Red son.

There wasn't much Mk could do at the moment and the small food break was much appreciated. Mk walked over to the bags of food and pulled out his noodles. He then sat in his chair and ate while listening to Wukong's sweet coos to his nephew.

And with that Wukong like magic finally got Red son to go back to sleep.

"thank you" Mk said softly as he ate his noodles.

"no problem kiddo. Once you're finished we'll changes spots so you can get a nap in too."

---

Mowang adjusted his shirt as he stood infront of the hospital. He hated glamours but he loved his son more than he hated glamours. Though he felt nude without his fur and he felt itchy. This was for his boy.

His poor sick baby boy who's mind was clouded by illness. To even think they saw him as a disappointment made Mowang's stomach turn. That was so far from the truth. He was their entire world all they ever wanted was what was best for him.

Yes there was a lot of tough love but it was still love. If they'd coddled him all the time he wouldn't be who he was today.

Mowang needed to express that to the boy though and apologize for their mistake. He was partly to blame after all. He also just wanted to hold his poor boy. Red son was ill and they couldn't even coddle him now.

Thankfully his wife was finally sleeping so he could come check on their pride and joy for himself. He walked in to the hospital with his hands in his pockets. Mowang stepped up to the front desk and asked," what room is Hóng Hái'ér in?"

"Who?" The nurse asked as she looked up at him confused. Mowang mentally slapped himself for thinking Red son be in the hospital under that name. Damn he was foolish.

"I mean Red son what room is Red son in?" Mowang said after he cleared his throat.

"ohh let me check for you they changed his room earlier" The desk nurse said as she typed the name into the computer. She got him out a visitors pass and a pen," he's in room 308. Third floor fifth door to your left in the second hallway. Write your name on the pass then clip it your shirt."

"alright thank you ma'am." DBK said as he wrote down his name on the pass. He put it on his shirt and went to the elevator. There stood Wukong and the dragon horse descendant. Wukong looked at him surprised as Mowang walked in to the elevator. The girl was holding way to many snacks to notice him.

"didn't expect to see you in that big guy" Wukong only lightly teased as he pressed the button for the third floor,"where's the princess?"

"at home asleep. She was rather upset this morning" Mowang said as he crossed his arms.

"wait Bull king?!" The girl said as he stood next to her," how are you-"

"You didn't think the stable boy is the only one who can use glamours right girl?" DBK said as Wukong glared at him.

"oh...then why weren't you here earlier today with your wife?" Mei asked defensively trying to intimidate him with her glare. It had no affect.

"I was not aware of how ill he was this morning. I thought it was a minor bug and that my wife was just going to retrieve him. However that did not happen" Mowang said as he looked at the doors,"My love came out weeping and said our child was too sick to leave. I had to take her home and calm her down before arriving here to check on my boy."

"well she didn't leave Red in the best mental state either. How could you two do that to him?" Wukong all but hissed with his arms crossed. Mowang crossed his arms as well annoyed by his sworn brother's antics. Like the monkey knew how to raise a child.

"I will admit we made a mistake but we didn't see this as the outcome. We merely didn't want him to fall in love with someone he'll out live." Mowang said as the tense became thicker by the second. The poor Mei stuck in the middle.

"oh so it wasn't because it was my successor who makes him happy?" Wukong remarked looking at him. Mowang rolled his eyes annoyed.

"Again we were thinking about how long he'd live. Not who he was the successor too. We made a mistake. I planned to apologize" Mowang scoffed. Of course Wukong make it about himself.

"you think apologizing to him is just going to fix the damage that has been done? All the restless nights they both spent crying. Or how utterly shattered Red boy is" Wukong snapped back," if you think he'll even believe that apology you are stupider than I thought"

---

Red son held Mk's hand as Dr.Chu walked in to the room. Thankfully Mei and Wukong went to stretch their legs so Red had the chance to talk to him.

"hello Mr. Son it's good to see some color back in your face. The nurses informed me that we can't do solids right away." The old man said as he looked at Red's chart," but you've been taking fluids well enough to stop the saline drip."

"yes doctor." Red son said as he tightened his grip on noodle boy's hand," can I ask a favor?"

"that depends on the favor Mr.Son" Dr.Chu said as he walked over to Red son's bedside to check his IVs.

"can we keep the pregnancy diagnosis to just the three of us. I...I don't want everyone to know yet." Red son said as Mk rubbed his back. The doctor looked at the young man and thought back to earlier that day. Poor boy's mother seemed over baring. He had told her the man was an adult so he supposed he keep this a secret for now.

"alright I'll alert the nurses as well. I'd like to do an ultrasound to see how far you are since you just found out alright? Also get rid of one of these IVs." The old doctor said reassuringly. Red breathed a relieved sigh for a moment before a shiver went up his back.

His father was in the building. Oh no father had to be livid he didn't want to go home. Mk pulled out the staff and kissed the back of Red's hand.

"hey I'll make sure he stays in the hallway you won't have to see him if you don't want too" Sunshine tried to reassure him. Red son was concerned for his well being though. Sure he'd defeated father once but that was when Mk had been invincible. He wasn't invincible now and father could murder him.

"I'll be fine your uncle's here too you know" Mk said as he got up and though it was reluctant let go of Red son's hand. He walked in to the hospital hallway.

He stood infront of that door closed behind him. Red needed to feel safe and his parents never let that happen. Even if it wasn't their fault Mk still wasn't letting the bull king through that door.

Mowang unnerved by Wukong's gull that he didn't know his own child. Wukong didn't even mentor his own student well. The bull stormed out of the elevator and towards his son's room.

There stood the other boy, his son's partner ready for a fight. A protective stance Mowang knew far to well, he used said stance many times in his life. He slowly walked infront of the boy with his arms crossed.

"may I talk to my son?" Mowang asked suddenly far calmer than he been earlier. It was a respectful tone. This boy did truly have his son's heart after all. That was something he could respect.

"he's talking to the doctor right now and he's very tired" Mk said as he stood his ground his stare having more of an effect than the girl's. That boy was protecting his boy. Thus that meant his boy was scared to see him... Which was soul crushing.

"alright, I'll let him rest. Please just let him know that his mother and I are very sorry about what we did. We were not trying to hurt him. And I know it's hard to understand. I'd like to apologize to you as well Monkie kid." Mowang said as he pulled something out of the bag hanging off his shoulder. He placed it in the boy's free hand," I know we've messed up greatly and it'll take time to repair but know this. You have my blessing so take it and this as they are. Tell my boy we love him dearly."

"Alright...I ...I forgive you but I still can't let you see him" Mk said as he looked at what the bull king put in his hand. It was a gem? He looked the king in confused.

"that is a gem I collected long ago for my boy to use when he found his princess or prince. He helped me pick it out. I believe it be of use to you." Mowang said as he ruffled the boy's hair," he'd most likely still prefer an engagement necklace instead of a band but you know my baby boy very well. I'm going to go now. Take care of him alright?"

"I will" Mk said as he studied the gem. Mowang nodded and left as Wukong and Mei walked over to mk. Mowang sighed as he entered the elevator.

His baby boy was in good hands but he couldn't help but almost cry that his heir was scared to see him.

#lego monkie kid #lego monkie kid au #monkie kid #spicynoodleshipping #lmk dbk #lmk mk #lmk red son #lmk wukong #lmk mei #Dr.Chu #lmk oc

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tundrainafrica · 3 years

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Which would you say are your favorite fanfics ever? (Levihan ofc)

Okay, I don’t think I’m the best judge of what’s quality or not quality cause I ain’t no writing authority so I cannot vouch for whether you will like these fics or not. But I am a firm believer that good writing makes readers feel things and leaves a lasting impression.

So lemme rephrase the question… What fics left a lasting impression?

So brace yourself for one hell of a ride while I talk about fanworks that just fucked me up in the following ways:

Caused me to irrationally hate one random character

Made me forget something isn’t canon

Made me completely rearrange my day because I completely f-ed myself up.

Made me feel guilty for fucking up the view count because I keep going back there.

Makes me remember the fic as an aesthetic, not as actual words. Like literally I will imagine the setting almost perfectly in my head and like when I try to remember what happened, I don’t really remember the writing style or anything, but I could probably create a sim house about how exactly I imagined the house to look like or the yard to look like.

Changed the way I approach fic reading.

I don’t wanna spoil these fics because I’m assuming people are gonna read it so as much as I wanna make a long ass detailed review about why I love each of them, I won’t. I’ll probably just mention what the hell I was doing when I read the fic and how I completely fucked myself over.

I probably will miss some since I’m just listing these out from the top of my head. So here goes…And I’m only posting completed fics because I’m just that way.

Second chance by @fanmoose12

This is my comfort fic. The first time I read this fic, it was like 4am or 5am in the morning and I remember after reading it once, I read it like 5 more times that day.

This is literally the fic I just randomly open on my computer at work on some incognito tab when I’m just tired from all the shit they make us do at work and this is the random fic that I just open up when I feel like reading. And this is one of the fics I plan on showing my children one day when I explain to them what love is.

This isn’t depressing so I guess it doesn’t fall in the ‘fucked me over’ category but definitely one of the fics I read too many times to count that I remember it scene by scene like some simp.

Partners by fanmoose12

Woops, one exception for WIPs. I just had to post this here because it definitely left a lasting impression.

This was the first AU I have ever read and been invested in and I have been reading fanfiction since before I could remember and I have always stuck to canonverse fics until I got into Levihan.

This fic got me into the AU genre and I have never read AUs in my life before this so I think that says a lot about how much this fic means to me.

Somewhere Only We Know by @someonestolemyshoes

It’s not completely posted in ao3 yet. But since I beta-ed the fic, I finished it long before SSMS posted it but this fic. It started slow so it took me a week of on and off work to get through but I got through the second part of the fic, the last 30,000 words incredibly fast. I vividly remembered reading those last final scenes over breakfast completely in shock while my whole family was there. I literally had to leave the room and take my dog out for a second walk .

I remember the aesthetic of the overall story vividly enough to actually make a moodboard of it and spend a good 1 hour going through country side pics after finishing it. .

Yellow by @ariadneamare

God, this fic. I read this over a day of work. Like breakfast, first few thousand words, Lunch next few thousand words. And I finished the rest before bed and oh god, this is the type of fic that builds a great aesthetic, some lightness and just to fuck you over in the end.

I like to compare it to a longer and AU version of Pristine in terms of how it strings emotions along. I know they’re two completely different fics but the energy of the fic, the stream of emotions on how it strings you along is fairly similar.

This is literally one of those fics where I’m just having a good day, and my mind goes ‘remember that one fic’ and I just wrinkle my nose like ‘yeah THAT FIC’

Pristine by @mannatea

I’m sure everyone has read this, it’s practically a classic and I cannot count the number of people who told me it was depressing and I do not know why I did not believe them. I read this while waiting in line for milk tea. I lost my place in line around the time I finished that last part and just gave up on buying milk tea.

It has this build up, this incredibly fluffy build up which won’t make you think it will end the way it did.

Well. you know a fic is good when you know it’s gonna end a certain way but you allow yourself to get strung along anyway.

A Simple Choice by just-quintessentially-me

This is one of those fics for me that double as an aesthetic piece and a plot piece. I remember INCREDIBLY WELL, the road I was imagining that they were walking through and it satisfied my hurt comfort feels as well. Definitely one of my favorite 115-126 fics and one of the first ones I read in the fandom for sure.

So those are the english fics, I have to Japanese fics that fall in that category.

(For anyone who knows Japanese I guess but I personally think they’re worth a google translate.)

熱に浮く(Feverish Dream)

Classic canon compliant. Hange takes care of Levi when he’s sick fic but there are misunderstandings here, they contemplate their relationship and they are incredibly emotionally constipated here. Definitely one of the classics imo and it feeds my need for hurt/comfort.

前世なんてクソだと言う女と全て忘れた男

(A girl who thinks past lives are not real and a boy who forgot everything)

Hange is a teacher, Levi is a janitor. Hange remembers stuff and Levi doesn’t and just really cute stuff.

I’m pretty sure you guys are tired of me rambling about how much this fic means to me but really, I wrote a Tale of Two Slaves (Which is just brushing 100k words already) because this was just so beautiful it got me into the reincarnation genre.

私の中の少女、あなたの中の少年

(The girl inside me and the boy inside you)

Levi and Hange are exes/childhood friends and they meet again in a matchmaking party. This is just the greatest balance between emotional constipation and love. The premise was just perfect for the type of build up

Closest thing I’m gonna drop to smut here. Will leave my smut recs for another post but I’m low key really still thinking whether or not I should expose myself by dropping my favorite Levihan smut pieces hahaha.

Filo Socmed AUs

A lot of these probably aren’t google translatable since Tagalog google translate sucks but if anyone is interested, most Filo Socmed AUs have a fair amount of English so it’s coherent. I guess? I completely forget though how much is in English and how much is in Tagalog but these are the Filo Socmed AUs I REALLY remember and really go back to.

Vividly Remembered

This one got me blowing my days worth of salary on some meal in a restaurant because I didn’t wanna go back home to my house yet so I remember just crying over a meal while finishing up this fanfiction instead of going home.

Basically a fic where Levi and Hange were together already and were about to get married already but shit happened. I irrationally hate Nanaba because of this Socmed AU. Like everytime I see Nanaba, i think of this Socmed AU and I just hate her again.

Photographs

Levi and Hange are part of the photography club and shit happens. I remember being behind on work because I decided to take a three hour lunch break to finish this AU. This satisfied my sick Levi craving in so many ways (especially after reading Yellow)

Wherein Levi doesn’t have social media accounts and Hange is the class beadle

This last one just has the overall aesthetic of my own university so it really stuck tbh. And the premise of the build up is just incredibly cute.

These are the ones I can remember from the top of my head so I’m sure these are among my favorites. I’ll definitely update this as I read more.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #fanfic recs

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aethelflaedladyofmercia · 3 years

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Twelve Months - Good Omens fanfic

Happy 31st Anniversary of Good Omens! :D

To celebrate this momentous occasion, I have posted a slightly-sad, slightly-sweet Wake the Snake fic on AO3, because our demon has been napping for a whole Twelve Months, and sometimes Angel gets a little lonely!

Thank you all for another fantastic year in this fandom!

Twelve months.

Aziraphale pushed open the door to Crowley’s flat, a simple shopping bag tucked under his arm.

The lights were still off, the curtains drawn in the awful empty room he called a study. Nothing had changed.

He passed through the enormous, rotating section of wall and into the solarium. This was still bright—many of the plants flourishing despite being unattended so long, despite clearly not having enough water. A few had started flowering. They waved their branches at him as he entered, perking up eagerly.

The angel waved back, but first he peeked into Crowley’s bedroom.

He was still where Aziraphale had left him, on his last visit a month before. Bright red hair spilled across black pillows, grown into a stringy mop. Duvet pulled up to his messily-bearded chin. One hand curled up beside him on the bed.

Still asleep.

With a sigh, Aziraphale crossed over to the plants, who greeted him excitedly, unfurling their newest leaves, a few vines hanging down to brush his face.

“Hello, my lovelies. How are you all doing? Look at you, grown at least a foot since I saw you, I’m sure. And you! What beautiful pink buds. Very impressive.”

He didn’t think Crowley would approve of how he spoke to the plants, but the poor things had been so distraught on his first visit, straining to keep upright, trying to hide their yellowing leaves. So much healthier now, much happier for just a bit of attention. He picked up the watering can and gave them all a quick splash. He didn’t know how much water each needed, but it didn’t seem to matter.

“You keep it up, dears. I’ll be back before you know it.”

Picking up his shopping bag again, Aziraphale headed down the hall to the kitchen. The kettle sat on the island where he’d left it, and he quickly refilled it and set it to boil. While he waited, he pulled his latest creations from the bag: a small pumpkin spice cake from a recipe he’d been perfecting since fall, a lemon coconut cake, and a few apple cinnamon muffins.

Two plates—a muffin for each, a slice of the coconut cake for himself and the pumpkin spice for Crowley.[1] The rest went into the refrigerator, where they would never go bad or stale.

Aziraphale put the plates onto a tray, along with forks and napkins. Next he found two mugs and pulled the little tin of his second-favorite tea out of the bag just as the kettle boiled.

For himself, a teaspoon of the expertly blended leaves, steeped for exactly three minutes, resulting in a pale brown tea with a slightly spicy aroma. For Crowley, he dropped a tea bag into boiling water and let it sit until it was almost black.[2]

He carried the tray back to the solarium and selected a bright red-and-gold tulip that was nearly vibrating in its eagerness to be noticed. A moment to assure the other plants that they were still doing fabulously—particularly a self-conscious little succulent that had rather drooped over the winter but was making a fine recovery—and he once more headed into Crowley’s bedroom.

Crowley had rolled over, and now sprawled on his back, sleeping soundly. He’d apparently kicked a bit, too, as the blanket had slid down past his stomach. Aziraphale smiled as he set the tray on the chair he’d brought in some months ago and got to work.

“It’s wonderful to see you again, dear,” he started cheerfully, carefully rearranging the objects on the little bedside table. “I have a few things for you again, I hope you don’t mind.” Just enough space to slide the mug and the little plate. Perfect.

“I received a package from Tadfield again. Everyone wrote a note and then gathered them all together, really quite clever. They’re all doing well, if a bit bored.” The table was nearly overflowing with little items now, brought in by Aziraphale to cheer the place up. Framed pictures of their human friends, quarantining with their families, clustered in one corner so tightly you could hardly see them anymore.

He pulled the latest out of the shopping bag. “Anathema has started a garden,” he explained, pausing to show the photograph to Crowley’s sleeping form. It showed the witch, kneeling outside her little cottage, working on growing several rows of herbs. “I got the impression she was off to a rough start, but she hopes to send us some mint in the next package. Although Newt warned me not to expect too much, as they’d already forgotten which patch is mint and which is oregano.” He set the picture with the others, and slid the potted tulip alongside it. “I’m sure she could use some advice from you, when you’re ready to share.”

“Nnnnh.” Aziraphale spun eagerly, but no, just Crowley shifting in his sleep again, rolling onto his side.

The angel paused to pull the duvet back up to Crowley’s chin, tugging it straight and smoothing a hand down his back. In a way, his friend was nearly unrecognizable, with that hair and ridiculous beard, but in another way looked the same as ever. That was always Crowley’s way, of course, constantly changing yet somehow always the same.

He lingered, taking in the shape of that face, leaning close, lips hovering above his cheekbone—

Aziraphale pulled back, quickly digging into his bag again. “Oh! Ah, the, um, the children have been making projects for their art class. This past month was sculpture, and they sent us some. Look!” He pulled out four little figures of oven-baked clay. “Ah, young Wensleydale has made a very clever model of a train car. Brian’s is…abstract.” He turned the next a few different ways. “And Pepper’s is, ah, either a very complex symbolic representation of the Patriarchy, or…a troll, I think.” They just fit on the edge of the table, all in a line, a very mismatched tableau. The fourth, on the end, was the best, in Aziraphale’s opinion. “Adam made a little Dog, and it’s very well done, don’t you think?” The canine figure posed with one leg raised and head cocked, ready to play, but the shadow it cast was just a little too large, too ominous, for such a small creature.

With a sigh, Aziraphale shifted the row this way and that. “I sent a letter to Warlock, over in America, but haven’t heard back since Christmas. I believe they’re very busy with something. Politics. You know how it is.” When the Dowlings had left England, they’d planned to return for a visit the following summer. A global pandemic had had other ideas.

“In any case, that just leaves Tracy and Shadwell. I understand he’s decided to hate the concept of literacy this month, so no word on how his war with the squirrels is going. And Tracy has declared she will spend the summer making a fairy garden. I thought her sketches looked very promising, and she promised to send us an update in June. I’m sure you’ll find it charming.”

“Hrrrrm.” Crowley sank under the duvet, nestling down a little deeper. Aziraphale smiled, settling into the chair with his plate and mug.

“Things are loosening up again,” he explained, taking a bite of cake. Delicious, if he said so himself. Sharp and not too sweet. “People are getting vaccinated, shops opening up. It’s really a lovely breath of fresh air, at least when you’re not wearing a mask.” A long sip from his mug, then he held it, fingers tapping. “It’s been nice walking through the park again, just in time for the baby ducks. And that record shop at the corner, they’ve had some wonderful new additions. Which reminds me.”

Putting aside his mug, Aziraphale dug through the bag again and pulled out a handful of square plastic cases. “They had a whole shipment of those little records the Bentley likes. Modern music. I picked out the ones with the rudest names. I’m sure you’ll enjoy them.” He pulled out the first disc and placed it atop Crowley’s phone. The device blinked in confusion a few times, then obediently copied all the music.

“Of course, it’s not all good news.” He stacked the rest of the discs atop the phone and returned to his tea. “Reopening means the customers are coming back. Yesterday, this one individual spent almost an hour browsing the same three shelves. And then he tried to make off with one of my books.” Another long sip. “Granted, he offered to pay, but still. What sort of establishment does he think I’m running?”

Aziraphale paused, waiting for Crowley to respond, not that he ever did. The demon’s eyelids moved a little, but no more.

Sighing, Aziraphale turned to his muffin. “You know, many times in the last year, I’ve wished you were there. Particularly during reopening phases. You could have posed as a customer, and then I’d be able to tell people I was at the capacity limit. Oh, and the people who would call to try and buy my rarest books. Collectors, or so they claimed, but then they just turn around and sell to anyone for twice the price! I’m sure you’d have some biting things to say about such people.” He smiled at Crowley’s sleeping face. “I’ve missed that, and your jokes. Rather more than I expected to.”

When his plate and tea were finished, Aziraphale set them on the floor and reached again into the bag. “Now, I have been attempting to teach my computer how to use the internet. I think it’s going quite well. Adam and his friends gave me a ‘homework assignment’ to find articles on recent news events, and I made the most wonderful discovery. Did you know that humans now share their news through humorous pictures? I printed out my favorites to show you.”[3]

He flicked through a few. “Ah, to start with, a few months ago there was this American politician with amusing mittens who showed up everywhere for a few days. It was extremely droll.” He leaned closer, holding them up for Crowley to see. “Ah, a few more from America. The murder hornets arrived, though by that point everyone had forgotten them. The election became increasingly confusing, and it all ended in a parking lot. For a little while everything was ‘This-or-That Total Landscaping,’ and before that everything was cake.” He showed a few extremely clever illusions. “I did try to make my own, but couldn’t manage it without miracles, which I felt was cheating.”

Really, leaning like this was starting to strain his back. Aziraphale shifted to sit on the edge of the bed, the better to share his pictures. “Ahhh. Also for a time everyone’s calendars were stuck on ‘March.’ And then earlier this year, a group of people learned how the stock market works, but sadly not how to spell it. The whole situation seemed very much like the sort of thing you’d be involved in. And…Oh, this angel from a television show was sent to Hell for…reasons.” He glanced at the shape beside him. Crowley had curled in slightly, pressing against Aziraphale’s back. “Yes. Various reasons. And then this musician, I suppose, went on his own. Both had many people extraordinarily upset.”

The next few images would really tickle Crowley, if he could actually see them. “The biggest news is that a large ship got stuck sideways in that canal in Egypt. Stopped half the world’s shipping for a few days while they dug it out! I’m sure you would have liked that very much. Exactly your sort of trouble. The humans were all very excited.”

The final photo was another of the ship, an image Aziraphale had made himself, printing out a blank version and writing on it in felt-tip pen. The hull of the enormous ship was labeled, “An eternity putting up with the tedious bureaucracy and frequently conflicting commands of my superiors until I begin to doubt my own judgement and sanity,”[4] while the small digger working steadily beside it was “Crowley.”

Aziraphale watched the demon beside him, not really expecting a reaction, certainly not getting one. He reached over, brushing brilliant hair back from Crowley’s forehead. “I think you’d have had rather a lot of fun last year. Or perhaps you’d have been upset you could only watch from a distance. Or…”

He’d leaned much closer than he’d intended, hovering just above Crowley’s forehead.

“Well!” Aziraphale stumbled to his feet. “I suppose that’s just about everything.” He picked up the tray from where he’d rested it on the floor, starting to re-load it with everything he’d brought in. Crowley’s cake and tea sat untouched, as always, but Aziraphale wouldn’t dream of skipping them. “We’re all very optimistic for the summer. Two months and everything should be just…just tickety-boo. Perhaps we can go for that picnic soon, if…yes…”

They’d made such plans for 2020. All the things they would do now they were free. Plans, and other thoughts carried in their minds, possibilities that would play out in their own time. Not too fast, just a slow, steady exploration of everything they could be…

“Well. Pleasant as that idea is, best not to—to plan too much, as the previous year made fools of us all. I just…” He turned away from the tray and watched Crowley sleep, hands clasped before him. “I miss you terribly. And I wish…very much…”

He picked up his shopping bag. One item still inside. The same one he’d been carrying for months, trying to find the courage to bring it out.

With a shaking hand, he reached in and drew forth a soft hand-made doll. He’d spent much of the winter on it. Simple white cotton for the head and body, wooly curls for the hair, and stiff white lace for the wings. Dressed in waistcoat and bowtie made from Aziraphale’s favorite tartan.

He still wasn’t sure why he brought it. He’d stitched several little toys, particularly a lovely black-and-red serpent with gold button eyes that had watched him from the sofa since November. But this, for reasons he couldn’t articulate, this one was for Crowley.

“I, ah…” He shuffled closer, doll clutched in both hands. “I made, um…” Back to the edge of the bed, one hand fumbling across the duvet. “…thought you might like…”

Crowley’s face stood out in stark contrast to the pillow, pale skin and bright hair. Aziraphale wanted to drink it in, memorize every detail, to hold him over until next month. The curve of his nose, the sharp angle of his cheekbones. His lashes flickering as his eyes moved. His lips, pursed ever so slightly…

“Bless it, Angel, are you going to kiss me or not?”

Aziraphale gasped, pulling back from the bright gaze of slit-pupil eyes. “You—you’re awake!”

“Nnnh. Half.” Crowley shifted, head moving across the pillow, eyes threatening to shut again. “Wouldn’t miss your visit.” One hand reached out, plucked the doll from Aziraphale’s unresisting fingers. “For me?”

The angel nodded. “If…if…you like it…or I could—I could just…”

Without a word, Crowley pulled the doll under the duvet and curled up, tucking it under his chin, a faint smile on his lips.

“If you were awake you—you should have said something! I’ve been going—going off like a fool all this—oh!” Aziraphale could feel his face turning hot as he recalled a few times his tongue had been a bit too loose for propriety.

“Mmmmmh.” The golden eyes were shut again.

“Crowley?” No response. “Crowley!” Aziraphale scowled. “Anthony J. Crowley, if you’ve fallen asleep again, I swear, I’ll—”

He’d do what? The angel fumed, but what could he really threaten? To stay away? Never.

“Alright then, I suppose I’ll see you in June. I’ve had several new requests for extremely rare manuscripts and I need to go pen some responses reprimanding these vultures for their cheek. I can—”

“You can stay.”

He spun around. Crowley had one eye barely cracked open. Gently, he pulled back the duvet, showing there was just enough space for Aziraphale beside him.

“I…I couldn’t.” But he stepped forward, not back. “I have business tomorrow, things to—”

“Just tonight then.”

His fingers brushed the mattress and pulled back as if burned. “You—you don’t really mean this, you’re just talking in your sleep.”

“Nah.” Crowley settled the doll by his pillow, making space. “Why else would I give you my key?”

“I…to…water the plants?”

“They take care of themselves.” Crowley held open his arms, eyes shut once more. “I missed you, too.”

Well. What could he say to that?

Aziraphale took off his shoes and slid into bed, into Crowley's arms. They wrapped around him gently as Crowley wriggled closer. “Mmmm. Y’r softer than the doll.”

“Oh.” He’d been called soft many times, generally as a way to imply he was a failure as an angel. But just this once, it made him feel rather pleased. “Soft is good?”

“Verrrry good.” Crowley twisted a bit, trying to find a comfortable way to rest his long limbs, and finally settled curled up against Aziraphale’s chest, tucked below the angel’s chin with a leg hooked over his knees.

The angel smiled. “And you’re…you’re noodlier than a stuffed snake. Err…”

A chuckle, just a stirring of breath across his throat. “Can’t wait to hear the story behind that.” Crowley nuzzled against his shoulder with a sigh. “Good night, Angel.”

Aziraphale swept the brilliant hair back again and bent down, pressing his lips to Crowley’s forehead. A soft, gentle kiss that made his friend smile a little more broadly. “Good night, my dear.”

Crowley drifted off again, burrowing close, as the angel continued to gently tease the back of his hair. Perhaps, he thought, perhaps tomorrow's work wasn't so very urgent. Perhaps a bit of rest would do him good. And perhaps...

Well. Don't plan too much. But for the first time, Aziraphale felt a bit of optimism about the coming summer and its possibilities.

“Sleep well, Crowley.”

[1] Crowley had invented pumpkin spice, and Aziraphale assumed he must like it. In truth, Crowley despised it, and regretted every autumn how it took over the entire world. He missed apple cider season. [2] Aziraphale had suspected since the early 1950s that Crowley secretly took his tea with several lumps of sugar, but would continue to pretend he didn’t know until Crowley confessed. Considering current circumstances, that was unlikely to be any time soon. [3] Aziraphale’s fax machine, revived after over three decades of disuse, had been somewhat confused to be asked to perform any task at all, much less to print memes onto photo paper with perfectly balanced color; but like the plants and Crowley’s phone, it couldn’t stand to disappoint the angel. [4] It was possible he hadn’t quite mastered this new form of communication.

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bostongirl13 · 3 years

Text

Piano, Thanksgiving and heart attack

A/N: I wrote this with the intention of continuing this story ➡ New Dodger photo , but it can safely be treated as a one shot.

Summary: I think the title explains it all 💙

Warnings: age gap, Scott and Chris are assholes, swearing, mistakes

Words: 1,5k +

TUESDAY

You growled in frustration not being able to remember a single word and what was in the linguistic pragmatics tasks.

"Stupid subject" you muttered, throwing your pencil across the room and letting it hit the wall. Dodger, who was lying on the couch behind you and keeping you company, raised his ears to the sound.

You've been sitting in the living room with your back against the sofa for a good five hours because your lecturer thought up an exam the day before the long weekend. Because, of course, speech acts, language functions, the theory of speech acts, and the communicative intention are so damn important that they can't wait until next week.

"Fuck" you cursed under your breath and rubbed your tired eyes. You felt your head starting to ache. And tears fall from my eyes from staring at the laptop screen for a long time. You needed a break, but you knew that if you do it, there is no chance that you will go back to studying. Being stubborn and hard to give in by nature, you took a deep breath and started reading the definitions and tasks once again.

Chris, of course, knew how difficult and hard this item was for you, so he was always as quiet as possible, occasionally bringing you a bowl of fruit, coffee, or tea, and ordered take-out food. He was loved. Even though you didn't thank him and just nodded your head, or just said nothing and paid him no attention, he knew you appreciated his help anyway. But seeing you sitting another hour in front of the computer with red eyes and tired, broke his heart. He couldn't watch his love work to death, and he knew that if he asked you to take a break, you wouldn't. So he came up with an idea, the implementation of which would make you leave your studies.

So he went to the piano standing against the wall and after a few minutes of choosing what he wanted to play, he put his fingers on the keys and caused the first notes to come out of the instrument.

You stretched and flipped through the notes page when you heard like music fills the air without effort, the sound rushing in and around every person in the room. You smiled and closed your eyes, leaning your head against the couch behind you. You listened to the melodies played by your boyfriend, feeling it sweep your whole body. The best thing about music was that it gave you strength and motivation. The variety of music in the universe is so diverse that there is something for everyone to enjoy. Music doesn't worry about anything; that’s the beauty of music.

You turned to Dodger and stroked his head.

"Dad is probably giving us a sign that there is enough study for today"

Dodger licked your face. “Okay, okay, that's it. Come on "you got up and stretched again. The dog jumped off the couch and followed you into the room where Chris was playing.

Chris was sitting in sweatpants and a navy blue sweater. His long fingers moved over the keyboard of the instrument, pressing the keys in the correct order so that the emerging notes formed a melody.

You walked up to him and hugged him from behind. "Thank you," you whispered in his ear and kissed his cheek.

"I'm glad you finally got away from studying. Do you like what I play?

"Very" you sat down next to him and put your head on his shoulder "Can you play any more?" you asked.

Chris kissed your head and started playing again.

Now sitting close to him and the instrument, you could hear and feel the musician much more clearly than before. Dodger lay down on his bed near you and listened too. Your eyes immediately felt heavy. You closed them, but you tried to stay awake. He had time, music surrounded the space him. You had to admit that of the many talents Chris had, this one was one of your favorites.

"I think it's time to sleep, Princess" you nodded and you let him rise you from chair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist, holding tight. "I guess I should start talking to you Koala" he laughed and you pressed your face against the hollow of his neck.

After a warm shower and putting on something to sleep, you both cuddled into each other, or rather you into Chris not allowing a minimum of a gap between your bodies. Even though you had an important exam tomorrow, you felt calm and knew that you would do well tomorrow.

THURSDAY

Quick update: there was no exam because it turned out that the lecturer did not have time to prepare the questions. You were relieved, but you were also furious because you could spend this time with your beloved men. However, you will not turn back the time, and what was now mattered.

You sat snuggled up to Chris on the couch in his mom's living room and watched as two pupies and Dodger attacked Scott on the floor. You tried not to laugh because you knew the video would end up on Instagram, but you really couldn't help but see this scene. Even Stella giggled and watched the whole thing happen. You put your cheek to Chris's shoulder when he finished recording.

"All right?" he whispered to you, seeing your eyes freeze at one point, you were thinking something

"Yes. I'm just happy. Thank you for taking me with you to your mother's Thanksgiving. Maybe I shouldn't, but I feel like I'm surrounded by my family."

"How could I not take you with me," he said in an offended tone. The invitation was obvious to him and he saw no other scenario for the day. "Honey, you shouldn't feel bad about being comfortable with my family. On the contrary, I'm glad you feel that way. It means a lot to me. And I can assure you that they also treat you like a family member." he kissed you on the lips to which you heard "ugh!" and laughed seeing Stelle covering her eyes.

Later that same day

You, Chris, Scott, and Dodger came back to Chris's house. All the way you couldn't stop laughing at the guys whining about eating too much.

As soon as you entered the house, the three men took their place on the couch in front of the TV. You rolled your eyes and being a good girlfriend, you went to the fridge for a beer.

"What have I done to deserve you," Chris said, taking a cold bottle of amber drink from you.

"Don't get used to it too much" you kissed him, "I'm going to take a shower" you add and disappeared down the hall.

"Don't you dare to let her go," said Scott, being sure you couldn't hear "If you do, I’m gonna kick your American ass." he took a sip.

"Funny." Chris laughed, "Don't worry, I'm not going to let her go."

Getting more comfortable after showering, you put on leggings and Chris's hoodie. Completely unaware that a trap awaits you as soon as you exit the master bedroom.

You've been moving around Chris's house by heart. So instead of looking straight ahead, you looked at the phone. Chris and Scott were standing behind the wall so that you couldn't see them and both of them, with video recording, waiting for you. After a while, they heard your footsteps and they both looked at each other. Chris showed three fingers as he counted. 3... 2 ... 1 ...

"Y / N !!!" they both shouted giving you a heart attack.

"Aaaaaaaaaa ... !!!" you screamed, terrified, and you jumped up and you slipped and fell. Chris grabbed you at the last minute and pulled you close. "Are you crazy ?!" you snarled.

Your heart was beating dangerously fast in your chest, your breathing couldn't slow down. Both guys were laughing when you thought you were having a heart attack.

"I'm sorry, Princess, but you were the only one I hadn't scared off yet."

"Be careful I don't scare you, you asshole," you threatened by hitting him on the chest. "How old are you? 5?"

"Oh, don't say you haven't got used to our childish behavior yet." Scott smiled at which you rolled your eyes.

"Sorry," Chris repeated and kissed the top of your head.

"You guys are so cute," commented Scott.

"That goes for you, Scott too. You both are on my blacklist," you narrowed your eyes.

Chris hugged you tighter, feeling your heart beating fast. You hugged him, cuddling up to him and trying to calm down.

About an hour later you managed to play on them and scare them. In both cases you recorded everything and with a smile on your face, pleased with yourself, sent them the video, which they both later uploaded to Instagram.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chrisevans #chris evans x reader smut #chris evans x y/n #chris evans imagine #chris evans instagram #chris evans fluff #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fic #chris evans fandom #my writing #new dodger photo

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sunnydaisy1 · 3 years

Text

Kayaking

DYLAN O’BRIEN X READER

A/N: wassup im backk! okay not really school is once again kicking my arse and im back to posting once every century *finger guns* but yeah I’m now obsessed with dylan obrien again and wrote this. - Also, sad note, my computer is not letting me update my masterlist so my Tom Holland x reader and this post won’t be on there but everything can still be accessed via my profile. Thankss :))

SUMMARY: You and dylan are camp counsellors and are leading a kayaking activity together (i suck at summaries)

Maybe gets a lil spicy spicy hehe

You walk into the canteen, a bubbling group of 8 year old's behind you bouncing with adrenaline from just completing the trampolining activity. You walk them over to the tables laid out in a long row, ensuring every kid was seated before taking your own place. You chatted with a few of the campers as they patiently waited for lunch. Before long the canteen was becoming packed with campers and counsellors alike, and you turned when you heard a particularly rowdy group of kids enter, lead by none other than Dylan, a red bandana tied around his head and a wide grin plastered on his face. He immediately caught your eye and sauntered over to your table, followed by his kids as they merged with yours. Dylan plonked himself in the empty seat next to you since Alyssa had moved up to make room for him. You had whisper shouted at her not to but Dylan come over before she could move back. "Hellooo ladies." Dylan beamed at you, crossing his arms in front of him. You rolled your eyes but a small smile slipped onto your lips. "How was trampolining?" He asked the group of campers sitting near to him, catching you by surprise as he must have looked at what you had on your rota. "It was awesome!" Arthur responded, eagerly exclaiming from a few seats down. "Yeah Y/N showed us her backflip!" Kiera cheered from beside you, making Dylan raise his eyebrows in surprise at you. "Oh really?" His mouth twitched with a slight lopsided smirk. Last night, you, Dylan and some other counsellors had the night off and were allowed to hang out in the indoor sports area. You had ended up dragging Dylan over to the trampolines, wanting to bounce and do your very impressive forward rolls. Dylan had almost ended up pissing himself when he saw you roll haphazardly across the trampolines, hair becoming staticy. You had pouted and shoved him playfully, jokingly teasing that he couldnt do any better. Of course Dylan had then proceeded to back flip in front of you, making you feel overwhelmingly embarassed. He had laughed at your shocked face that quickly turned appalled when he asked if you wanted him to teach you how to do it. You had very reluctantly (okay so maybe not that reluctantly when dylan pulled your hand into his) agreed to let him teach you how to do it. He got a mat for going underneath you incase you fell and you were surprised with how careful he was being, Dylan normally being so utterly careless and clumsy. He had started with getting you to just bounce, laughing at your frustrated face. You soon progressed onto the actual flipping, starting off with Dylan holding your back and upper legs to help you master the movement before you managed to do it yourself. By the end of the evening you had mastered a pretty impressive backflip, feeling proud of yourself and way more confident in your new trampolining skills. Dylan of course had loved every second of it, playfully teasing and coaching you whilst maybe also enjoying having an excuse to touch you. You looked sheepishly to Dylan as Kiera continued to babble on about trampolining and he nudged your shoulder with his, "proud of you." You grinned but also felt your entire body heat up with the soft gaze of affection Dylan was looking at you with. You muttered a thanks, being interrupted by the shrill echoes of the lunchtime bell. Amy, the head counsellor, stepped to the front of the canteen as always, making sure everyone knew what was going on before she announced which table would get food first. Soon, it came to your table and you queued up behind the campers, waiting with Dylan at the back. Grabbing you both a tray you handed him his, to which he grinned and thanked you. You headed over to the hot food station, one of the workers serving you a sausage roll before you walked to the salad bar. You were scooping some sweetcorn onto your plate when you felt a hand on your lower back. You instantly jumped and turned to see Dylan smirking at you. "Piss of will you O'Brien you almost gave me a heart attack." He just grinned and popped one of the tomatoes from your plate in his mouth, chuckling as you thwacked him before he scooted off to your table. You sighed as you collected your plate and returned to your seat, narrowing your eyes at Dylan as he watched you with a widespread grin. "You're such a pain Dyl." You stated, taking a bite of your sausage roll. "Thanks y/n, love you too." He responded, munching on his meal. Soon, lunch was over and you and Dylan had both sent off your campers to get changed into their wet gear, as you had a joint kayaking activity together this afternoon. You retied your laces before hopping back up, Dylan walking over to you after collecting the keys to the canoe shed. He wiggled his eyebrows at you, jangling the keys in his hand. You let out a huff of amusement, before you both walked down to the lake together. Dylan quickly unlocked the shed, walking inside the slightly damp and musky structure. He hauled out the large bags containing the life jackets while you untied the straps holding the kayaks together. Once you noticed Dylan slipping into the toilet at the back to change into his trunks, you scooted out the shed, wanting to find the red life jackets for your campers. Your fingers were fumbling with undoing the bag's ties and you had just managed to pull out the adult sized life jacket when Dylan sauntered out, grabbing the jacket from your hand and slipping it onto his body. "Hey!" You said, turning to see Dylan cheekily grinning at you, hands on his bright pink clad hips. Your eyes ran over his body, brow raising when you studied his choice of bold pink trunks. His honey eyes met yours as you looked up and you couldn't help a small smile peaking out your mouth at how adorably dorky he looked. "That's my life jacket." You stated, dropping the bag you had been holding. Dylan pretended to look around the red jacket he was wearing, "Can't see your name on it." He replied cheekily, slight dimples on his cheeks. You huffed and prodded him, "Come on Dyl, you know red is my favourite colour." Dylan just stuck his tongue out at you, "Tough luck y/n." You frowned and flipped him off, reluctantly putting on the unappealing blue life jacket, leaving it to hang open, similiarly like Dylan's. Soon, the campers all arrived down to the lake and you and Dylan had finished setting up the equipment, kayaks and paddles layed out neatly beside jackets. You had to do the mandatory safety talk, ensuring every kid knew what to do and Dylan was rather unhelpfully distracting you by running his fingers along the edge of your life jacket's back, you shoving him multiple times to get him to stop. He continued anyway, a smug smile plastered on his face when you shivered as his fingers 'accidentally' brushed under your counsellor polo top. When you eventually finished the safety talk, Dylan removed his hand from your back, clasping his hands together like he often did in counsellor mode. "Okay everybody, partner up and pop on a life jacket, I'm gonna show you how to adjust it so you're all ready to get out on the lake." You grab your water bottle while he waits for everybody to grab their jackets. You are just screwing the lid back on when you feel a tug, yanking you over to Dylan's front. You look up to see the kids giggling and Dylan wiggles his dark eyebrows at you before reaching down and zipping your life jacket up. "Everybody zip their partner's jacket up." You look to see all the surrounding kids echoe Dylan's movements, having fun helping their friends. "Okay next part, you're gonna need to give this strap here a nice tug." He places a hand on your side, pulling quickly at the strap, winking at you as the jacket becomes more secure. You feel your body heat up and try to ignore Dylan's nimble, slender fingers resting on your side. "Ready for the final bit everyone?" He asks the kids and they all nod enthusiastically. "Okay then, you're gonna give these shoulder straps the same tug you did for the other and then I need you to lift your bud's jacket up, making sure it's nice and tight." As Dylan says this, he pulls each of your shoulder straps tight, smirking as his fingertips brush along your collar. He then reaches underneath the jacket's shoulders and lifts upwards, beaming as your torso just gets tugged upwards. You feel your heart pounding as Dylan releases you, his smug face turning to help the younger kids. You cough lightly, trying to rid the fogginess in your brain before you go and help. Soon, the kids are all ready, paddles in hands and you have lifted yourself into your kayak, off the jetty so that you can help from the water. You swiftly maneouver yourself into postion, watching as Dylan checks the first kid's life jacket before lifting the kayak into the water easily. You can practically feel yourself gulp, watching his tan, lean arms bulge against the yellow polo shirt all counsellors had to wear. Your gaze flickers to the pink trunks, clad around his thighs and you sigh, not understanding how he can pull off such stupid coloured items. "You gonna help y/n or just stare?" Dylan asks you, watching as you stutter and quickly grab the kayak, steadying it so the child can get into it. An hour later, all kids were on the water, having mastered the basics you and Dylan had taught them and a fair few of them soaking wet from splashing or falling in during the races you had got them to do. "Alright campers," You yell, gaining their attention while you paddle to the middle of them, "We are gonna have one last competition. We're gonna raft all the kayaks together, Dylan's campers on one side, mine on the other." Suprisingly quickly, the campers rafted together, all holding onto each other's kayaks so that they didn't float off. You sandwiched yourself in the middle, watching amused as the teenage girls from Dylan's campers raced to sidle up next to his kayak, two of them smug as they reached the spots next to him. Katie and Laura grinned as Dylan grabbed onto their kayaks, their arms 'coincidentally' touching his as they held onto his kayak. It was common knowledge that Dylan was a popular counsellor amongst the older girls, often being subject to much of the gossip around camp and you could understand why. His chiselled face and body were unfairly god-like, his brown hair was soft and most often messy and those damn moles on his face often got compared as the luckiest things on earth. He also had an immensely lovely personality; he was hilarious, kind, caring and sensitive. To be honest, a large majority of camp you found yourself almost having to wipe drool away from your face after staring at him across the room for too long. You eventually tied all the kayaks together, creating a temporary raft that was secure enough for your planned competition. "Okay so here's what's gonna happen. You will see that you all have a number on the front of your kayak. If I call that number, you have to get out of your kayak, run across the raft and into the other person's seat." You were basically playing a more elaborate game of ladders. (A/N: I have no clue if ladders is a worldwide game or just here in the UK but if you don't know what it is just google it :) ) The kids all squealed enthusiastically and you were glad to see even the older ones who were usually more reluctant with activities were looking excited. "Okay we will have a few practise rounds so you get the hang of it. Ready? Okay.....Number 7!" You shouted and instantly, two small kids scrambled up from their kayaks, climbing across the raft before plonking themselves in the other's seat. "Woah, you guys were quick! Okay one more practise before we start counting points for teams." Soon, the competition was well underway and kids had been scrambling their way across, a few falling into the water. Then, when two of the campers were settling back into their kayaks, Ethan shouted out, "Y/N and Dylan should have a go!" At once, all the campers shrieked in agreement, making you look at Dylan. He shrugged, a smirk working its way onto his face. You grinned, "Okay but you'll have to hold onto each other reallyyy tight!" They didn't really considering a rope held you all together but it made it more exciting. "Right count us down then." Dylan said. "3,2,1 GO!" The campers all screamed and immediately, you hauled yourself up, clambering over to reach Dylan's kayak. You are almost at his, grinning with the knowledge you were gonna win as Dylan made the kayaks rock more, slowing him down. All of a sudden, you felt a hard push on your side and a second later you were surrounded by cold water. "DYLAN!" You screeched as you came to the surface of the lake, said man watching you with glee as you bobbed, clothes now soaking wet. He cheekily reaches out for you and you grip his hand, pretending to get ready to get out before giving his arm a hard tug, causing him to topple into the water. You laugh as he surfaces, treading water as he flicks his hair out his face like a wet dog. "I can't believe you fell for that!" You chuckled, grinning triumphantly at his now soaked state too before making eye contact with him. The pair of you instantly raced towards the kayaks again, you managing to scoot back on and into Dylan's seat before he reaches yours. "HA! MY TEAM WINS!" You shouted, beaming and high fiving some of the campers around you. "Yeah, yeah yeah." Dylan shakes his head defeatedly, a smile on his face anyway. Once the kayaks are unrafted, the campers make their way back to the jetty, Dylan getting out to help the kids. You steady the kayak as he reaches under the straps of the less strong kids, easily lifting them up and onto the wooden jetty. Once all the kids are safely out the water and kayaks laid out by the shed for the next group, you paddle and steer so you're beside the jetty. Placing your paddle on the side, you go to get out when you feel Dylan's warm arms wrap around your waist and lift you up, you barely having to push to get out the kayak. "Uh thanks..." You say, body tingling from the freckled man's touch. He just winks at you and lifts your kayak out the water, placing it next to the others. You dismiss the kids, all of them running off to the cabins to shower and change before the next activity. You walk into the canoe shed, placing the rope back where it came from, and tidying away a few bits before you too went off to change. You lean down to pick up a few plastic balls and place them on the side when a hand tugs your now open jacket, causing you to stumble into a hard chest. You look up to see Dylan smiling down at you, brown hair sticking up in all directions. Your hands are pressed against his chest, his own life jacket open as well. "Uh hi." You say, and Dylan brushes a strand of your hair out your face. "Hi." His eyes are looking right into yours and his hands are on your waist and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage. "Wasn't very nice of you to pull me in like that was it y/n." He says softly, gaze darting down to your lips. "You pushed me in first!" You say, poking his chest and Dylan grins, his head tilting and a lopsided smirk gracing his mouth. "Guess so, I think I can make it up to you though." You frown in confusion but feel your stomach flip when Dylan leans forward, pressing a kiss to your mouth. Your eyes are shot wide open, watching as Dylan's own brown eyes open and look at you through dark lashes. Then, your hand tugs on the fabric of his shirt, causing his lips to press against yours again and you close your eyes, a hand running behind his neck to tug on the hairs at the base of his head. It escalates pretty quickly and you find yourself being lifted onto the side of the cabinet in the shed, Dylan pressed between your legs as his lips work against yours. Your hands push his polo up slightly, running along his abs and torso, admiring as his muscles contract at your touch. He runs his fingers softly up your side, his mouth caressing yours. "Once you guys have finished making out, the kids are meeting you in the hall." A loud voice echoes out and you both instantly break apart, flushing and extracting your hands from up each other's shirts. You see Amy walking out the shed, her red hair swooping as she shouts out a final, "Oh and please don't fuck in the shed!" You look up at Dylan who's expression mirrors the same as his mum finding a girl in his room and burst out laughing. Dylan's warm gaze flicks back to you and he grins lazily, lips puffy and swollen. His hands have fallen to your thighs and you giggle as he leans in again, going to kiss you but you place a hand on his chest, pushing him back softly and sliding off the cabinet. "Dyl come on we still need to get changed" You slip your hand into his and tug him out the shed, much to his protests of 'y/n please, the kids can wait a bit longer' but you just roll your eyes and drag him to the counsellor cabins, the promise of a possible shared shower causing Dylan to walk a bit faster.

#dylan #dylan obrien imagine #dylan obrien oneshot #dylan obrien x reader #dylan o'brien x reader #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan o'brien oneshot #stiles stilinksi x reader #urm why is this man so hot #someone save me i hate school #dylan obrien is sexy #when is 1d gonna reunite #imma head out

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mooshua · 3 years

Text

hi uh it’s mooshua (aurora, moosh, whatever you want to call me). I’m so sorry about my sudden leave and everything and worrying some of you. that was really uncool of me to do and I really am so regretful for that. honestly I’m kinda embarrassed right now. explaining myself is rather difficult because, I won’t lie, I’ve been having feelings of inadequacy towards both myself and the works I put out. lol so I’m kind of having a hard time articulating my emotions because my mind is all over the place and I’m literally sweating as I type this out.

long story short: I got burnt out, started hating my writing with all my being, accumulated some Not So Nice messages, and then just did not want to be perceived anymore.

the long story: like I said above, I’ve been having Conflicting Feelings with regards to what I have been writing. anytime I read what I wrote I would just feel my gut twist and turn like I was going to throw up because I WAS SO EMBARRASSED. nothing about it was... up to my standard? nothing flowed right, I could point out a billion mistakes, and I wasn’t laughing like I used to. and it wasn’t just feeling embarrassed, it was like whenever I wrote something I would Not Be Having Fun With It because I kept thinking “deadline deadline deadline you need to finish this by the end of this week it’s only 5k words are you saying you can’t come up with a measly chapter in a week you used to be able to write 15 chapters in a month you dog” and I would just force myself to sit in front of my computer for hours and when I finally finished I wasn’t really happy with the final product I would just think “god I need a smoke break” even though I’ve never smoked in my life. and then I’d also get “please update!” messages/comments in the dry periods and, don’t get me wrong I really appreciate that people are reading my stuff, but I’d feel more and more stressed because then I’d automatically think “Oh My God People Are Waiting And I’m Letting Them Down.”

so with all these bad feelings welling up inside me I thought “I need a break.” and that’s what I did. I took like a 3 week break in september/october (I honestly don’t remember because the days have been bleeding together) in hopes that I just needed to rest to get my brain started again! after those 3 weeks I then did the usual routine of writing and updating, but again Things Just Didn’t Feel Right because it felt like I was diving back into that stress inducing spiral of the dreaded Weekly Updates.

I mean, I would get so hung over this stuff because in the back of my mind during my free time I’d be thinking “I could be writing and finishing up both series right now” and you know what? I’d do that. well, I tried at least. I’d force myself to sit and type whenever I had ANY free time because I already had everything planned, I just needed to put words to a page. well, doing that for nights on end was just mentally exhausting me to New Levels. everything I was doing was not sustainable at all.

AND THEN THINGS SLOWLY GOT WORSE because I would have zero confidence in my writing and every week or so I’d get a message in my inbox saying something along the lines of (or rather word for word) “your writing isn’t that good/special/anything new I don’t understand why people are reading it/why you get so many notes/you’re not as funny as you think you are” and at first I would kind of laugh at it and go “oh trust me buddy, I’m wondering the same thing too” and then delete it because I do Not Wish to entertain the thought on my blog, but then I was hitting a new all time low in my mentality and I got another message on the day I deactivated which was a Really Bad Day and it read “your writing isn’t good” and I went back to the chapter I was editing for the day, felt my gut do that twist and I thought “you know what? you’re right. it’s not. goodbye.” pressed the forbidden red button and honestly felt a weight lift off my shoulders because that meant I no longer had to deal with that stupid cycle of constantly updating in order to Feel Something.

I kept thinking “why is this not as fun as it used to be, why am I so stressed out all the time opening that stupid doc and going on my blog?” like I would literally sit down and think about this as if it was a math problem or something. my inadequacies kept rising within me but I would just bottle it up, go to writing and trying to answer messages like nothing was wrong because I really didn’t want to worry anyone or think I was a charity case who needed help, but now that I think about it I really should have talked this out instead keeping my mouth shut. I just thought this was something everyone goes through so I was like whatever it’ll pass. I kept thinking “this shouldn’t be as deep as I’m making it” and brush it aside, but then I kept thinking negatively about my ability to write and literally DREADED sitting down in front of my laptop that I would have to hype myself up in order to get a sentence in. I think the last time I actually felt really proud of something I had written was during the summer...... and then after that it was just downhill.

and listen. I know this is just a Fun endeavor and I really shouldn’t care about what other people think as long as it makes me happy, but along the way I stopped being happy because I started caring Way Too much and putting unrealistic expectations on myself. it’s weird. I know at my Big Age I should have a better mentality, but it’s been eating at me for a while and I just wanted to pull the plug.

okay now the part that a lot of people are wondering: are you going to finish your series? I plan to. I really want to. I think it’d be a waste not to. I’m still feeling pretty conflicted right now with my writing, but I already mapped everything out, and I don’t like to break promises since I already said I was going to do this thing. thanks to anyone who read my works and I’m sorry to have worried you. I just needed to take a step back and think about what’s good for myself.

yeah. so that’s my explanation. this whole thing is so long and for that I’m sorry. if you went through this then pat on the back for you. I don’t know when I’ll come back or how long it will take. I just want time for myself and to not think about anything with regards to writing. like at all. also I only have 1 request: for anyone who downloaded the series from ao3, please do not repost or reupload or redistribute them. please I’m literally begging. I deleted them for a reason and I really don’t like the idea of these stories floating around without my consent. when I do get back into it I’d like to make edits to what I have written. idk if any of my mutuals still want to talk to me after this but feel free to lmk lmfao sorry I know that I sound like I’m off the deep end but I really just need to cool it before I start diving back into a Healthy Relationship With My Writing Hobby lol. why am I so dramatic... SORRY. anyway. I hope you guys are staying happy and healthy during this time. don’t forget that.

#mooshua #shiratorizawa antics #msby black jackals online!

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10-19-17uswnt · 3 years

Text

Not that kind of librarian Sonny- Tierna x Reader

This is my first ever fic and I’m really nervous about it so tell me what you think. Prompt: “I work at a library and you continuously ask me to help you find books about the most random topics, are you on some sort of quest?”

On this particular day when Tierna walks into the Stanford library she stops dead in her tracks when she sees you standing at your desk. You are the most beautiful girl she has ever seen. She is so lost in thought that she doesn’t notice you walking right up to her.

“Can I help you with anything?”

She blinks quickly and looks around confused. Suddenly she can’t remember why she’s here. Panicking she blurts out the first thing she can think of to keep you from walking away.

“Dinosaurs!”

An adorable blush starts to creep up her freckled cheeks as she realizes she practically shouted at you. You smile softly and let out a quite chuckle.

“Do you have a specific dinosaur in mind?” You say as you start to lead her towards the correct section.

“Uhh no not really” She laughs nervously with a hand on the back of her neck. “I’m Tierna by the way, Tierna Davidson.” She finishes while extending her hand to you.

What she didn’t know is that you knew who she was the second that she walked through those doors. You were a huge soccer fan and even played all throughout high school, but your senior year you were told that if you got another serious concussion it could result in brain damage so you decided to hang up your boots for good to stay healthy.

Despite what you went through you still loved the game so when you arrived at Stanford you went to any game you could. Tierna is one of the best players to come through the Stanford program so it was no surprise to you when she finally got her first call up. From the very fist time you saw her play you were smitten, and now is no different.

“I know who you are Superstar,” You can’t help but grin as you watch her eyes widen. “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” You say as you finally bring your hand up to meet hers.

Just as you are reaching the books about dinosaurs you hear your boss call out to you, “(Y/N)! I need you to put these books back where they go!”

You can’t help but feel disappointed at your time with Tierna being cut short. For a fleeting moment as you turn towards her you think she may look disappointed too.

“Duty calls, I’ll see you around Superstar” You say as you bring your hand up to brush her arm. You’re already beginning to walk away before she can respond, but as you look back you see her nodding.

With her original purpose for coming to the library long forgotten Tierna quickly makes her way back to her dorm room texting into the USWNT groupchat as she went.

Baby T: SOS I JUST MET A CUTE GIRL AND I DON’T KNOW WHAT TO DO

Frat Daddy Sr.: Aww shes a baby gay.

Frat Daddy Sr.: I remember those days

Frat Daddy Sr.: It took me like 3 months to ask out my first girlfriend

Baby T: 3 MONTHS?!?!

Not so Baby Horse: Probably not helping worms

Frat Daddy Sr.: My bad T...

Frat Daddy Sr.: I’m sure you’ll be fine

Pressi: Just take a deep breath and tell us about this girl honey

Baby T: I was headed to the library for only god knows what at this point and I saw her standing by her desk and I couldn’t help but stare because she is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. By the time I realized that she was standing next to me I had already forgotten what I had came for so when she asked what I was looking for I just blurted out the first thing I could think of. AND she already knew who I was and didn’t seem bothered by it at all.

Dasani: Wait I thought librarians were only hot in pornos?

PewPew: Eww Sonny, not that kinda librarian

The Great Horan: I don’t see the issue here, just ask her out

Uncle: Yeah just go back tomorrow and ask her to coffee or something

Rose🌹: Leave it to Lyss to be the voice of reason haha

Baby T: Just ask her to coffee, how hard could that be? Thanks everyone, minus Kelley and Emily

Frat Daddy Sr.: HEY!

Dasani: HEY!

The next day you’re sitting behind your desk when you see Tierna walk inside. When she spots you she smiles and starts walking towards you. As she gets closer you call out, “I get to see the Superstar two days in a row? Must be my lucky day”

Her step falters as a deep red blush rises to her cheeks. Making Tierna a blushing mess is quickly becoming your new favorite thing. “What can I do for you today Superstar?”

She stands rooted to the spot staring blankly at you. You start to think that maybe she’s not as into you as you thought and maybe you should cut back on the flirting when she finally rushes out, “Doyouwannagogetcoffeewithmemaybe?”

“I’m sorry, what did you say? All I got out of that was coffee. You’re gonna have to talk slower babe.”

Her eyes widen and somehow her blush gets even darker. She clears her throat before speaking again.

“I uh... I asked if you.. if you... had any books on how to make coffee.”

You give her a weird look as you turn to your computer to see if the library has such a book. While you are distracted Tierna facepalms at her nerves getting the best of her once again. She is pulled out her thoughts by the sound of your voice.

“You’re in luck Superstar, we have one book on how to make coffee.” You say as you get up to pull the book off the shelf and check it out for her. “Is there anything else I can do for you?”

“Uh..Nope. That’s it I guess. Thanks (Y/N)”

You watch disappointed again as Tierna walks away. Before your brain can catch up to what you’re doing you grab a pen and run after her. “Hey Superstar! Wait up!”

Tierna turns around slowly and watches as you jog up to her. She’s extremely confused since she thought that she blew it with you once again. When you finally reach her you grab her arm and before either of you think about it you write your number on her arm. When you see the goofy smile spreading on her face as it dawns on her what just happened you knew that you made the right decision.

“Call me Superstar.” You say with a wink as you start walking back towards your desk.

As you walk back you hear a load yell and turn just in time to see Tierna land from her flying fist pump. You shake you head with a smile, this goofy girl held the key to your heart and she didn’t even know it yet.

On her way back to her dorm Tierna excitedly pulls out her phone to update the team.

Baby T: GUYS GUYS GUYS! I GOT HER NUMBER!!!

Pressi: That’s great sweetheart! Now, do we get a name for this mystery lady of yours?

Uncle: So I guess the plan worked?

Baby T: Oh yeah! Her name is (Y/N), and not exactly...

Frat Daddy Sr.: What do you mean “not exactly” it either worked or it didn’t

Baby T: Well you see, I was GOING to ask her out to coffee, but then she was flirting with me and called me babe out of nowhere so I panicked and asked for a book on how to make coffee...

Not so Baby Horse: Oh honey

Dasani: Wait how did you end up with her number then!?

Baby T: She ran up and wrote it on my arm when I was leaving

PewPew: So now that you got her number are you going to invite her to the game Saturday?

Baby T: Should I?

PewPew: You said she already knew who you were, so that means shes a fan right?

Baby T: Good point. Thanks!

Your shift ended almost an hour ago and you still haven’t heard anything back from Tierna. You were starting to worry that you had written your number down wrong when you hear your phone go off.

Unknown: Hey it’s Tierna

Maybe?Tierna: From Stanford

(Y/N): Hey Superstar, I was beginning to think you didn’t like me anymore ;)

Superstar: Oh, sorry lol. So we have a national team game coming up this Saturday in LA and I was wondering if maybe you wanted to come watch and like meet the team and stuff

Superstar: But like its totally cool if you already have plans, or if you don’t want to go

(Y/N): I’d love to

Superstar: Really? Awesome. Okay cool, I can’t wait.

(Y/N): Me either, I’ll see you Saturday

Saturday could not come soon enough, you drove 6 hours on Friday to get to your hotel and relax before the game. Tierna had to leave in the middle of the week to meet up with the rest of the team so this will be the first time you’ll be seeing her since you gave her your number. Luckily you bought her USWNT jersey last year so you’re able to show your support.

You get to the game early so you can watch the team warm up, when your eyes meet Tierna’s you can’t help the excited squeal you let out as you wave to her. She had pulled some strings to make sure that you got a seat close to the bench ans was excited to see that the staff went all out and gave you front row seats.

On the field Emily notices that Tierna has gotten distracted and follows her line of vision. When she shes your happy dance and notices your jersey a devilish smirk appears on her face before she calls out to the team.

“Hey look eveybody, T’s Sexy Librarian is here” Her snickering is interrupted by a thump on the back of her head from both Christen and Ali.

“Get your head out of the gutter Sonnett”

From your seat you watch on amused at the reaction that your presence has caused. Soon after that the game was starting, the US were playing the Korean Republic and while it would not be as exciting as a rivalry game it was still a very good game. Tierna started and played a full 90 with some great plays on the ball.

Once the game was over and most of their gear was packed up Kelley noticed that Tierna kept glancing back towards your seat behind the bench. Tierna jumped when she felt Kelley’s hand on her shoulder.

“Oh, hey Kelley”

“Just go ask her out already dude, you’ve been texting her non stop since you got here so I think its safe to say she likes you too.” She whispers in her ear.

“Now go get your sexy librarian!” She laughs as she shoves her towards you

You smile as you see that ever present blush start to creep up her face as she walks towards you. When she finally reaches you she takes a deep breath before speaking.

“(Y/N)? I really like you. As in make me forget my on name kinda like you. From the very first second I saw you in the library last week I was awestruck by your beauty. That’s why every time I came to the library instead of getting what I came for I left with some book I didn’t need. If you’ll let me I’d like to take you on a date so that we can get to know each other without a phone screen and 350 miles between us.”

Throughout her little speech your smile continued to grow, but towards the end you could read her face and see that the nerves were starting to fight their way to the surface so you decided to interrupt her before she could start rambling.

“Hey Superstar?”

“-oh uh, yes?”

With a smirk you watch her eyes go wide as you lean forward and grab the nape of her neck.

“Just shut up and kiss me already,”

For once she stopped overthinking and listened to her heart.

#uswnt imagine #uswnt x reader #tierna davidson imagine #tierna davidson x reader #tierna davidson #uswnt

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winterscaptain · 4 years

Text

infirmity.

Aaron Hotchner x Gender Neutral Reader

a/n: part four of our 100 arc, covering 5x02, haunted! I forgot how much i love this episode, so i really leaned into this one. it’s a labor of love!! i can’t wait to hear what you all think (i crave feedback and affection) and if you reblog, i’d love to see your cheeky lil thoughts in the tags!!

words: 4.3k warnings: language, bad decisions

summary: “a friend should bear his friend’s infirmities” - william shakespeare, julius caesar.

masterlist | a joyful future masterlist | requests closed!

You knock on the door at 8:30 sharp. Almost thirty seconds pass before he answers, and you note the hand on his holster as he opens the door.

“Hey.”

“Hi,” you chirp. “Ready to go?”

He turns, gathering his things. “What do we know about this case in Kentucky?”

Thrown a little by the lack of greeting, you follow him into the apartment. The sight of the Foyet files on his desk aren’t foreign to you, nor are they a surprise. They’ve been there every time you came over during his leave (in fact, you’ve sat on them more than once), so why you expected them to go away once he was back you had no idea.

“Um, no connection between Call and his victims. They’re canvassing, but no sign of him so far.”

“Start with his recent history. Find the stressor.” His voice is flat, impassive, and you frown.

He was just getting better…

You’re about to head back toward the door when -

“Don’t move.”

Right. The alarm.

He stands by to arm it. “Ready?”

“Are you?”

+++

You arrive at the tarmac, Hotch in the passenger seat of your car. He looks a little resigned, but straightens and takes a breath before he opens the door, settling into his role as he steps out and straightens his suit jacket.

It’s always a little funny to watch him transform. You’re honored you get to see it, even if he’s in rough shape.

Especially then.

You climb the stairs and follow him in, settling in your usual place.

“Good to see you,” Dave says as Aaron scoots down the aisle. It makes you smile.

“You, too.”

Aaron gets settled and you shift, trying not to hover but finding it difficult to be separated from him after his weeks of absence. He greets the rest of the team, exchanging pleasantries and checking in with Reid about his knee.

“Any other attacks?”

JJ shakes her head, while Spencer elaborates. “Call’s proven hard to track. He’s never had a driver's license so he’s probably still on foot.”

“Or public transportation,” Emily notes.

You hum. “He wouldn’t take the bus. His face is everywhere.”

“Has anyone found a stressor?” You weren’t sure if Aaron’s brusque affect was going to continue once you made it to the plane, but his tone just about answers your question.

Stepping back into authority quickly, there, Aaron.

“He just lost his job,” Garcia supplies. “He’s worked at a factory since 1990. Made appliances since forever and not a single promotion.”

Derek tilts his head. “That’s a long time to be bitter.”

“Or he doesn’t care?”

JJ looks at Spencer and shakes her head. “Not if he’s got a family to feed.”

“Actually, he’s of the hermit variety as far as I can tell. He’s got no one. No wife, no kids, no parents.” You watch Garcia’s eyes flicker around the screen as she talks to you, doing what she does best.

“Nothing to live for.” Derek’s looking a little too pointedly at Aaron for your taste, but your evaluation is interrupted.

“So why hasn’t he killed himself yet?”

Your brain sputters at Aaron’s offhand delivery. “What?”

“Sprees usually end in suicide. If he’s got nothing to live for, why hasn’t he ended it?”

The energy in the room grows uncomfortable, fast. Aaron’s voice is still flat - you might go so far as to say it sounds dead, but that inspires a kind of heavy sullenness in your chest you’d rather not subject yourself to.

You wish Haley was around for no other reason but to kick his ass.

You’re thankful for Spencer when he answers Hotch’s question. “Because he isn’t finished, yet. We know he has displaced anger. He took it out on the first victim.”

“Well,” Aaron continues, “the stock boy represents someone. We need to know who.”

You meet Derek’s eyes and you can tell he’s trying to read you - trying to see if you’re as concerned as he is. You don’t give him the satisfaction.

+++

Later, you corner Morgan on the plane before landing, keeping your voice low. The case is in your lap so there’s a valid distraction when you need one.

“What’s wrong with you?”

He stops and turns. “I thought Hotch was cleared to drive.”

“He is.”

“Then why did you pick him up this morning?”

You shrug. “I wanted to.” His eyes bore into the side of your head and you look up with an exasperated huff. “What?”

He sighs. “He’s only had a month off.”

“Well,” you say, aware that you’re being pedantic before you even get there, “thirty-four days. That’s a little more than a month.”

His stare is withering, but you’re impervious. “And you think that’s long enough?”

“Are you asking me as his coworker or as his friend?”

“Is there a difference?”

You shrug. “Maybe.” Yes. “But if you don’t think he’s had enough time, you should tell him.”

He scoffs. “No thanks. I like my job.”

“You like him more.” A little smile crosses your face. “Though, I know you don’t like to think so.”

“No. I like you.” Derek corrects. “He also happens to like you, so I tolerate him for your benefit.”

“Much appreciated.” You return to your work, but Derek’s eyes linger. You don’t look up as you ask, “What?”

“What if he has PTSD?”

Still writing, you answer with a general air of nonchalance. “He was evaluated.”

“Oh, come on. We wrote those questions. Hotch knows exactly -“

You slam your pen down and lean back with your arms crossed. You draw Spencer's eyes and lower your voice again. “So, what? Are you going to pick at me until you get me to say something you want me to say?” You let out a sardonic chuff, settling back to work. “If that’s the case, you’re gonna be here a while.” You tip your head a little toward the little table by the window. “Your coffee’s getting cold.”

You admittedly feel a little bad for being short with him, but everything seems to be testing your patience today.

And if you’re honest, you’re worried about Aaron, too.

After a few minutes of work in silence, you call out to him again. There’s the smallest of apologies in your voice. “Derek?”

He looks at you, dark eyes open and yielding - concerned and forgiving. “Yeah?”

“He’s back because he has to be. He needs to know we’re here for him.”

“He knows that.”

You offer him a small smile. “Don’t let him forget it.” You pause, your head wavering a little bit as your tone turns a touch facetious. “I can’t do all the heavy lifting around here.”

You get a laugh out of him - just a little one - and it’s enough. “Don’t push it, kid. I remember when you were dead weight.”

You roll your eyes.

That’s enough, for now.

+++

Even your seemingly-endless patience with Aaron rapidly wanes as you spend more time at the crime scene. It’s frustrating.

“He was on an antipsychotic?” You ask with a little frown.

The pharmacist nods. “Well, that’s why I wanted him to calm down. He’s been off of them at least a month, now.”

“And when were you going to tell us this?” Aaron asks, harsh and sharp.

You look at him, your frown deepening.

What the fuck is that attitude?

“He’s armed, he’s delusional. Who’s his doctor?” Hotch’s tone grows even pointier, somehow, as he pushes harder.

“I don’t remember - my computer…” She gestures behind the desk, where the computer has been fried by a bullet.

“Great. That’s great.” He walks away, already making a call.

“Excuse us,” you say in an attempt to recover. Derek echoes you and you try to avoid running after Hotch as he strides down the aisle.

Long-legged asshole. Slow down.

“Hotch,” you call. He doesn’t listen.

“Call JJ and tell her about the meds.” He’s still walking. You’ve caught up.

Derek chimes in, gesturing back at the pharmacist. “This is not her fault.”

Aaron turns on him. “Morgan, he’s in a psychotic break. It changes everything.”

“You want to talk about this?” Derek asks, taking another step closer.

Squaring up to Derek’s shoulder, you’re ready to pull them apart if they get really heated.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

In some ways, Morgan’s admission on the plane was truer than he let on. You are the link between Derek and Aaron, almost like a balm. You see things in them that they can’t see in each other. It helps.

With a pang, you think of Haley, for some reason.

You miss her.

“No.” Aaron’s interruption is sharp and it startles you out of your thoughts. “I want to find him - Garcia,” he turns, continuing on his warpath forward, “he’s been off his antipsychotic for a month. What else did you miss?”

Your mouth drops open and Derek’s about to deck Aaron while his back is turned. You push in front of Derek, getting between them to give him a chance to cool off. The last thing you want is to handle more wound dressings - for either one of them.

Aaron hangs up and walks out after what you imagine is a rather unilluminating update from Penelope. You turn, putting your hand on Derek’s shoulder and looking him in the eye.

Still think he’s alright? His eyes ask.

You grit your teeth. I don’t know.

+++

The psychiatrist and patient lay dead on the floor, Call nowhere in sight. Derek directs the local officers to check the perimeter, just in case.

You look at Hotch, who still doesn’t look completely checked in, himself.

Or maybe he looks too checked in?

I don’t know.

You’d be lying if you said his behavior didn’t freak you out. Though he’s standing beside you, you miss him.

Come back to me.

You miss the man who pliantly sat under your hands as you washed his wounds and brought him takeout and forced him to take naps in the middle of the afternoon on a weekday.

You miss the man who fought you for the remote and stole far too many of your fries, who would change the channel if you made the mistake of going to the bathroom on a commercial break.

That man was with you as late as Saturday. Returning has brought something else out in him, the part of him that spent (often very) late nights looking for Foyet has risen to the forefront.

“We’re too late.”

Before the rest of you can do anything, Aaron leaves the room, pushing past Dave in his haste to leave.

Emily calls after him, but he’s long gone down the hallway. They look at you.

All you can do is shake your head with a downturned curve of your mouth.

+++

After a little while, you go downstairs and find Hotch outside. Before you can say anything -

“I should have seen the blinking on the video.”

You huff at him. “Hotch, it could have been a nervous tic. You couldn’t have known - none of the records were available, yet.”

“But it wasn’t a tic. It’s a classic sign of long-term antipsychotic use, and I missed it.”

You step in front of him, squarely meeting his eyes. “We all missed it.”

He’s got another pessimistic jab that you choose to ignore just before Emily and Dave arrive with news from Garcia.

Oh, Aaron.

+++

The officer huffs. “I don’t care why he took him.”

Aaron had, once again, escalated the situation with local police. Tensions are high, and you only hope he can get his shit together at some point. “You should.”

Goddamn it, Aaron.

He continues, advancing on the police captain. “Call’s memory is no longer suppressed. He’s reinventing his past and unless we understand how, we’re not going to find either of them.”

“Well, I’m not gonna just sit around and speculate.”

It’s an old-fashioned Western standoff, now.

Who’s Clint Eastwood?

Well, Hotch has the looks but -

Quit.

Fine.

“Then don’t.”

The captain turns to you, Emily, and Dave. “You don’t think we should chase him either?”

“We need to get ahead of Call,” Dave answers evenly.

The captain looks at Aaron once more before storming off. The rest of you approach Hotch, and Emily’s a little frustrated when she reminds him, “There’s a kid missing.”

“They don’t need the extra manpower.”

You squint at him. “Since when?”

“If we had studied Foyet’s initial crimes -”

Oh for the love of fuck.

“- we would have known that a survivor didn’t make sense.”

“What does he have to do with this?”

Great question, Emily.

“All we had to do was stop and look at Foyet’s history. But we didn’t, and we lost two couples and a bus full of people. I am not making that mistake again.” He leaves the three of you stunned in his wake. After a moment, you follow him.

You always do.

+++

“Let’s go.”

You’ve got the address to the unsub’s home and you take the car with Aaron, the rest of the team following behind you.

He drives fast, but that’s nothing new. He throws the siren and floors it. You call SWAT yourself, getting Derek prepared for staging.

When you get out of the car, you throw your vest on, helping Emily with the straps across her shoulders before she can reach them themselves.

“Prentiss,” Aaron says, putting his earwig in. “Check in with the lieutenant, see if there’s anything we can use.”

She nods. “Yes, sir.”

“You good?” You ask, looking over at him.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

You throw your head to the side, and he takes your flank as you get closer to Emily. Her briefing with this particular lieutenant could go sideways, but you don’t want to leave him feeling trapped.

“...The kid’s in there. We got this. Tactical teams are covering the exits. He’s still focused on the old man.”

Emily squints, adjusting her comm. “For now, but we’re gonna have to figure out the safest way to get that kid out.”

“I’ve got a team in the back and one on the way. We’re going to infiltrate.”

“You do that and someone else dies.” The balance of firm and collaborative rests delicately on her tone. She’s doing well.

“Either Call or a child murder. Flip a coin.”

His tone frustrates you, but you leave Emily to her devices, checking your magazines for the third time. Your sidearm is in place, as is your backup.

“It doesn’t have to end like that. We get a confession out of Jarvis and he goes away, and Call gets his answers. No one else has to die.” She pauses, and a streak of white flashes in your peripheral. “Hotch!”

You whirl, ready to sprint after him as he walks decisively past the rest of you, past the gate, and into the house. After a moment’s hesitation, you make a break for it. A wall of arms stops you, and you know Derek’s behind you when you hear, “What the hell is he doing?”

No vest...Is he even carrying his gun?

“Let him go.”

You turn on Dave, your face plastered with fear and fury. “What do you mean let him go. Rossi -”

“I’m not letting him go in there solo.” Derek pushes against Dave again, but to your surprise, he’s locked in tight.

“We have to trust him.”

That cools Derek off, but not you. You thrash, freeing yourself from one of the local cops. “The hell we do.”

“Kid - wait, no.” The roles reverse, and Derek catches up to you and locks you in his arms before you can breach the perimeter. Your elbows don’t land against his vest, but you sure try. “You’ll get him killed.”

There’s only stress and silence as you stop struggling. All you can do is wait.

Derek keeps his arm around you, but you almost feel like the contact is for both of you. You take deep breaths, trying to slow your heart rate. It’s through the roof.

“What’s he doing?” Emily asks into her mic.

Dave leans into his comm. “Stalling.”

You can almost feel Derek’s jaw tightening. “He has nothing to lose.”

He has everything to lose.

You have everything to lose.

Don’t be a hero, Aaron. Don’t do anything stupid.

You hope that he can hear you somehow.

Too late.

Hotch appears in the window, followed by the boy.

There’s a quick SWAT conversation in your ear.

“Do you have the shot?”

“Negative, negative.”

He’s blocking the shot.

Goddamn you, Aaron. Goddamn you.

“Bringing the boy out,” a faceless voice on the radio says. The hostage runs down off the porch and you catch a glimpse of Aaron before he disappears behind the door again.

You turn your head a touch, keeping your eyes on the door. “Get him out of there.”

Dave shakes his head. “That’s his call.”

Your body is wound tighter than a coil and you’re not sure if you’re ready to storm in there or just start walking home.

There’s a gunshot, and you’re out of there like a bat out of hell. You launch yourself over the short fence and attach yourself to the first SWAT agent you see, remembering your training at the last moment.

You breach the house and find Aaron cuffing Darin, whose father is dead in the armchair in front of him. Your jaw has never been tighter.

Once you confirm that he is in fact still alive and still only has nine holes in him, you turn on your heel and you storm out of the house. You don’t stop until you’re leaning on the front of one of the cars, trying to catch your breath. Your hands shake and you don’t trust your knees to hold you up.

The relief wars with something hot and unpleasant, leaving you more exhausted than you’ve been in weeks.

You keep your head turned away from Aaron as he approaches you. It’s petty, but you also don’t want him to see the fear on your face.

He calls you with a sigh in his voice and it finally ignites the fear into anger.

“I can’t fucking believe you,” you spit. Your voice isn’t loud, but it certainly carries. JJ’s eyes flicker to you from the other side of the yard. “What kind of stunt are you trying to pull? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

His jaw tightens. “Let’s not do this here.”

Your brow draws across your eyes and your mouth opens, indignant. “Let’s not do this here? You’re fucking kidding me.”

In his current state, nothing is off the table. His temper is running short and you know you’re capable of pushing him until he breaks. It hasn’t happened yet, but today might be it.

Much to your surprise, a sigh leaves him, and he knows he’s stepped in it. “It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

You scoff, shaking your head.

His remorse only stokes your anger. Go figure.

“You’re sorry? You’re sorry. You could have died, Hotch. What you did was so beyond protocol I don’t even know if I should start with the necessity of your life because we need you as our unit chief or the importance of your safety as my friend -” You cut yourself off and look away from him, frustrated you even got that far.

He has nothing to say to that. You’re completely right. The guilt might as well be written across his face in Sharpie.

His absence fucked with you, to say the least. It felt awful, empty, in the field without him. And then when you were home - well, back at the apartment, he was only ever in pain.

Overall, your anxiety regarding his health and safety is riding high.

Much to your frustration, your eyes water, and your lower lip shakes - angry tears an ever-present threat. Your arms cross over your chest. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

He reaches out for your arm, but you throw him off before he can make contact, turning your head. You stare at the ground, watching him flounder out of the corner of your eye.

“Go. Go do your fucking job, Hotch.” His nickname is acid in your mouth. It feels like a punishment, a lash of a whip. He doesn’t move, and you turn on him, meeting his guilty brown eyes with your flinty ones. “Go. Make the arrest. They’re waiting on you.” You throw your chin to Derek and Emily, who are indeed waiting for him on the porch with the unsub.

With another heavy sigh, he turns and rejoins the rest of your team.

You stay where you are, directing coroner and local law enforcement personnel to relevant staging areas as the crime scene is processed and handled. Aaron’s eyes try to find yours, but you avoid them, focusing on someone, anyone else with crisp professionalism that hardly belies your fear.

You’ve never been so angry in your life. Even if you have, you can’t remember it feeling this wretched.

+++

He sits beside you on the plane once you’re up in the air and leans forward with his elbows on his knees. The rest of the team sleeps scattered around the cabin, but you suspect that at least one of them is faking it, waiting for some kind of spectacle or spectacular blowup between the two of you.

You haven’t spoken to Aaron since leaving the crime scene. You drove back to the precinct with Emily and Dave, staying close to JJ and Spencer while you packed your things. There’s a part of you that feels bad for creating what Strauss would call a “hostile work environment,” but the other part can’t bring itself to care.

You can’t even begin to articulate the fear that coursed through you as you waited for him outside that house. You couldn’t begin to explain the extent of your fear, but after the stabbing and the removal of Haley and Jack from your lives, the prospect of losing him in the field was beyond unbearable.

It’s frustrating to feel so comforted by his proximity while you’re still so angry with him. The familiarity of it all hardly blunts your anger. If anything, the relief at having him back at your side sharpens your anger into something that scares you.

The impossibility of it is beyond measure. You’ve known for some time now, but this is the first you’re willing to admit it.

I love him.

Fuck.

You love him. You love his son. You love his wife.

You love the weird look he gets on his face when he has to say “penetration” while he’s delivering a profile. You love the way he tries not to smile when Emily beats Spencer at chess. You love the way he twiddles with pens when he’s thinking or nervous or both. You love that each of his smiles feel like a gift just for you.

There’s nothing you don’t love about him.

Except, of course, the way he, with profound idiocy, endangered his life today for no particular reason in addition to his generally asshole-ish behavior.

“I would say I’m sorry, but I’m sure you know that.”

You do.

He waits on you, quiet and still.

You take a deep breath, finally looking at him. “You scared the hell out of me.”

He nods, his jaw flexing.

“Don’t do it again.”

He blinks once, slowly. You know he can’t promise that, but you appreciate his acknowledgment nevertheless. There’s quiet for a moment.

“Aaron…” You look at him, nothing but concern in your tone.

He shakes his head. “Don’t.”

“I was just going to say…” You swallow, trying to find better words but coming up short. “We’ll get him.”

+++

Derek’s voice echoes down to the bullpen as you finish up the last few pieces of your paperwork. “I will not stand by and watch this man kill himself.”

Aaron’s door is closed as he works. You’re not sure if you’re thankful for that, or if you’d rather he hear it. You can’t really hear Dave - not that you’d want to, you’re almost as pissed at him as you are at Aaron - but it doesn’t matter. You know what he has to say.

Derek’s voice drops lower than you can hear. Dave drops his head.

Moments later, Derek flies back down the stairs, grabs his jacket, and takes his leave with a cursory goodbye thrown in your direction. Dave returns to his desk and Aaron’s door finally opens.

You look up as his lights turn off, gathering your things at your desk. With a little sigh that looks a bit like defeat, he stops at your desk. The smugness doesn’t completely leave your tone. “Need a ride?”

Of course, he does. “Please.”

You rise and walk to the elevators together. In the silence, you tell him, “I’m still really mad at you.”

A sigh. “I know.”

+++

You walk him upstairs and take care of the alarm while he removes his suit jacket and throws it over the couch.

“Do you think Call’s gonna be okay?” You ask, still facing the alarm.

“I don’t know.”

“He got his answers,” you note, turning to him. “He killed the man who haunted him.”

His eyes are fixed on a spot on the carpet. “And what else is there?”

“Years of torture.” You both know you’re not talking about Call anymore, but it’s nice to pretend. It gives you the opportunity to say things you wouldn’t - shouldn’t - say to him. “Fear. Grief.”

“Think he’ll get over that?”

“How could he?” A humorless smile pulls at one corner of your mouth. “But at least he doesn't feel like he’s alone.”

He finally meets your eyes. “He doesn’t have anyone.” I don’t have anyone, his brow says.

“He has Tommy. He’s not alone.”

You have me. You’re not alone.

His brows pull low over his eyes, and you take another opportunity as it comes. “Do you want me to stay again tonight?”

“No, I’m alright.” He takes a little breath and you round the corner, pouring him a couple fingers of whiskey before making a slow, purposeful trek across the room. “Thank you,” he says, taking it.

“Of course. Anytime.” Now, you both know you aren’t talking about the drink.

Nevertheless, you pat your pockets for your keys, phone, and various federal paraphernalia, finding them all where they belong. “I should head out, then. Call if you need anything.”

He nods, watching you with quiet eyes as you close and lock the door behind you.

+++

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