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lokislastlove · 3 years

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Come One, Come All (dark!Loki x reader)

Summary: A girls night out to the fair takes an insidious turn.

Warnings: Noncon/Rape, knife play, oral (m&f), smut, bondage, kidnapping.

This is a dark fic! 18+ ONLY! Explicit Adult content. Please READ THE WARNINGS! Do not continue if these matters upset you!

Authors Note: I wrote another one! No idea where this came from, but it was fun to write. Still working on improving my smut, huge thanks to @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for some tips and editing the shit out of it. 😘 also I know there is a creepy clown in the pic but I feel like I have to say there aren’t any clowns in the fic. I hate clowns.

Chapter 1:

It was the kind of summer night you dream about, warm enough to keep you comfortable in your shorts and peasant top, but with a light breeze that keeps you cool enough to fight the flush of alcohol in your veins. You look forward to these moments when you are able to go out with your girlfriends and let loose, forgetting about all life’s responsibilities, if just for a single night.

“Come on!” Ash calls over her shoulder, her hand tight around your wrist pulling you impatiently.

“Aww but that looks so good” you groan as you press your face longingly against the glass barrier of the hand dipped corn dog cart.

The sweet scent of the frying corn dough wafts tantalizingly through the air making your mouth water. You friends laugh at your theatrics, having just helped you scarf down a large sugary funnel cake and a platter of nachos, the evidence of which still stains the corner of your mouth. Really, it was their fault for getting you tipsy before taking you to the county fair, everything just smelled heavenly and if you could you would try one of everything.

“Just a slushee?!” You beg as Jen steps behind you and pushes you out of the food court, giggling the entire time.

“Come on, fight the drunchies! You promised you would try that new funhouse,” Jen whines, looping her arm through yours, Ash doing the same on the other side.

“Oh yeah,” you grumble.

“Oh stop it” Ash scolds playfully. “Everyone at work keeps talking about it - it’s like a mini escape room! And I’ve always wanted to do one, please.” She rants excitedly before giving you her best puppy dog eyes.

“Ugh that’s cheating. No one can resist those big brown eyes” you pout, but yield as easily as they knew you would.

“I know” Ash smirks, tossing back her long silky black hair over her slender shoulder.

“This is gonna be so much fun, I promise” Jen bumps your hip, giving you a wide encouraging smile.

You manage a strained grin as you let them lead you through the crowd. It’s not that you don’t like funhouses or the idea of doing an escape room, having always loved solving riddles and doing puzzles. It’s just you don’t like clowns, and every funhouse in your experience has at least one.

“Oh damn there’s a line!” Jen moans as you all stop in front of a large structure covered in flashing lights, the ominous ‘Tricksters Trap’ bathing your face in a violent red glow.

Garish contrasting colors somehow both attract your eye and make it hard to look at. Your pupils dilate with the lines of fluorescent bulbs burning into your retinas. The stereotypical circus music blares through the cheap speakers, reminding you of one of those old Jack in the box toys. And of course, without fail, was the obligatory clown statue hanging over the entrance, like some creepy sentinel there to guide you to your inevitable demise.

“Ugh fucking clowns” you grimace as you pass by the entrance, heading toward the end of the line.

“Yeah they definitely nailed the creep factor,” Jen agrees, her eyes shining with nervous excitement.

“I know isn’t it great?!” Ash squeals.

You stand there taking in the horrific detailing painted on the side of the metal structure. You are thankful when Ash explains there is a time limit, only ten minutes to complete the puzzle or else they kick you out and you have to try again. If you figure out the puzzle you get to leave through the mirror maze and you earn the coveted “I tricked the Trickster” sticker.

“Gotta get that sticker, or else that bitch Katie at work will never let me forget that she got one and I didn’t” Ash complains, causing you and Jen to share a look and snicker.

“Hey! Don’t laugh, this is serious! We gotta be smart and figure this out, failure is not an option” she urges dramatically before collapsing into drunken giggles with you and Jen.

“You ladies seem eager to prove yourselves,” slithers a low voice.

Startled you gasp and spin around quickly. The three of you look up at the tall lean figure standing behind you. He wears a perfectly tailored black ensemble, that matches the color of his slicked back hair. His eyes practically glow green against his alabaster complexion. His sharp cheekbones and angular jaw make your breath hitch, causing his thin lips to curve into a sinister smirk. He is stunning.

“Um, yeah. Well this place has the whole town buzzin’. Seems like everyone is talking about it” Jen is the first to speak.

“Ah I see. Wouldn’t want to miss your chance to take a stab at it” the mysterious man surmised, eyes focused on you.

“We got this shit. Right guys?” Ash assures him as she playfully smacks you and Jen.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out. Good luck,” he challenges with a raise of a brow.

You stare after him as he saunters away without another word. His hips and shoulders sway smoothly, his soft footsteps giving him a dangerous almost feline vibe, like he could rival even the most deadly of predators. As he turns to round the corner of the ride he takes one last look over his shoulder at you. Your eyes lock for only a fraction of a second but it’s enough to send a chill down your spine.

“That was weird, right?” You mutter, eyes still transfixed where he disappeared.

“Eh, just another creepy dude. If I had a nickel for every weirdo who tries to chat me up…” Jen jokes.

“You’d have like a whole 50 cents,” sasses Ash.

You are finally broken from your daze when Ash is pushed into you. You laugh and try to brush off the lingering effect of the handsome stranger, shifting your focus back to your friends. The line goes by quicker than expected, with only one group out of the three ahead of you making it out with stickers. The losing groups return to the line from a back door, bickering about where they went wrong.

Finally it is your turn. Ash claps her hands excitedly, dancing up the metal stairs to the costumed man at the entrance. His red and white stripped suit is expertly torn and painted with fake blood to make him look as intimidating as possible. With a tip of his top hat he welcomes the three of you and begins to explain the rules in his well practiced accent.

“Come one come all to the Tricksters Trap, if you’re feeling lost, just go find the map.” He sings with flair and a perfectly timed bow, directing you to the inauspicious black door.

Taking a deep breath you follow your squealing friends into the darkened hallway. Pausing to look back as the door creaks shut, cutting off the jovial sounds of laughter and chatter with a sudden slam. You flinch at the loud noise and turn back to the dim hallway. The short corridor is lined with wall to wall green velvet curtains barely visible with the green rope lights running along the ceiling.

“Guys?” You whisper when you don’t see them next to you, causing your heart rate to quicken

You call for them again, this time louder, your feet unwilling to move from the spot. It has only been thirty seconds and you are already about to call it quits. Get a grip. You take a hesitant step forward.

“You guys?!” You call shakily.

“Hey! Come on we found the map!” Jen pokes her head from around the corner at the end of the hall.

She disappears just as quickly, waving her arm for you to follow. You breathe a sigh of relief and rush after her. You enter a large room filled with all sorts of random objects. It’s as if it is designed to overload your senses. The green from the hall carried on into the room, more velvet green curtains hung on the walls that were not obstructed by shelves of books or other oddities. You saw everything from perfectly aligned glass jars filled with alien looking creatures, grandfather clocks, to treasure chests overflowing with grizzled toys.

Jen and Ash are hunched over a table with a map spread out smoothly. It was easy enough to see it was a map of the room and hallway, with what appeared to be three small rooms hidden along the wall behind the heavy green drapery. You go over and pull back a curtain and find a locked door, the other two also hiding a locked door.

“Ok so it looks like we gotta find a way to open these doors” you offer, your anxiety calming a bit as you focus on the mystery at hand.

“Hey look there is some sort of code over here by the lock on the door.” Ash hollers excitedly.

You each pick a door code and frantically search the room. It doesn’t take long for you to figure out you need to use the books on the large shelf along one wall. The first number tells you the book the second refers to a specific page. You find a slip of paper in the book with a riddle written in a blood red ink.

“I make two people out of one” You read aloud.

“You can hold me in one hand, but I’m used to fill the room” Ash reads hers, her face twisting in concentration.

You both look to Jen, “I have two hands, but I can’t clap.”

“Damn no wonder so many people failed, definitely wish I wasn’t drunk right now” Ash laughs.

“No no we can do this, it’s probably items in the room so let’s just focus. We’ll do one at a time.” You assert, pacing the room and trying to take in all the random objects.

“Two hands…” you mutter as you stop in front of a large grandfather clock. “Clocks have hands!” You yell excitedly and open the narrow door.

The heavy pendulums swing inside and you see a shining silver glint off the rounded golden end. You pull off the small silver key, stuck on by a tiny magnet, and jump in excitement.

“Holy crap! You’re a genius!” Jen exclaims running over to take the key and try it in the door.

The key slides in smoothly and the door opens with a gratifying click.

“Woo! Keep going, you are on a roll!” Ash claps as she cheers you on.

“Ok, ok” you giggle before taking a deep breath. “Two people out of one… maybe a camera? Or wait…” you realize as you stare at Ash currently checking her makeup in an antique mirror hung between two curtains.

“Ash! Try pulling on that mirror!” You yell pointing frantically at the mirror in front of her.

Her brows knit together briefly before understanding, grabbing the frame and tugging gently until it swings open, revealing a key hung on the wall.

“Yes!” You all shriek together.

Suddenly, the lights flicker and a loud maniacal cackle reverberates through the surround sound speaker, turning your elation into yelps of surprise.

“Two minutes left” a familiar polished voice echoes forebodingly throughout the room.

“Shit, that scared the crap out of me” Jen laughs clutching at her chest.

The warning gives you pause, managing to shift the spirit of the whole room. Ash giggles nervously as she watches the lights of the room transition from their previous dim yellow light to a menacing red hue. The mood lighting in addition to the increasing volume of the horror soundtrack playing over the speaker helps to put you back into your initial anxious state.

“Seriously? Is this fucking necessary?” You curse, shaking your head.

“Ok let’s get the last one guys! We can still do this!” Jen yells through the cacophony of sound effects.

“Yeah what can we fit in our hand but somehow also fills the room?” Ash reiterated the final riddle.

“These red lights make it so much harder to see” Jen complains bitterly as she rummages through the items inside a large chest.

“Lights… Jen that’s it! A lightbulb!” A smile breaks out on your face as you figure out the final clue.

“Look up there!” Ash points to a solitary darkened light bulb screwed into the ceiling.

“I got it.” Jen jumps onto the table and reaches up, unscrewing it quickly. “There is a key inside!” She shouts.

She unscrews the bottom of the fake lightbulb and received the key before handing it to Ash. Each of you run over to the corresponding doors and turn the key, squealing in delight when they all slide open.

“Is that it?” Jen asks looking into the cramped dark space behind the door.

It was little more than a closet. Barely enough room for each of you to stand in. You were at a loss. You could have sworn that would be the end.

“Guys there is a lever here on the back wall of mine, how about yours?” Ash’s muffled voice calls from inside her closet.

“Oh yeah mine too!” Jen replies.

“Do you think we have to pull them at the same time? ‘Cus mine did nothing when I tried it” Ash says poking her head out to look at you.

“Thirty seconds!” That haunting voice booms again as a tick clock sounds through the speakers, counting down your final moments.

“Ok let’s try it together!” You nod at both of them, before stepping into the tight dark space.

“THREE! TWO! ONE!” You shout, mirroring your friends calls, pulling down your lever with a snap.

There is a moment of silence as the lights of the room behind you suddenly go dark, the music and sound effects cutting off instantly.

“Did we get it?!” You yell.

You don’t get the chance to hear your friends response as the wood door slams behind you, locking you into the small space.

Tags: @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @caffiend-queen

#dark fic #dark Loki #dark loki x reader #tom hiddleston #come one come all

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nemuitoka · 3 years

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What are your favorte jshk fanfics? also where do you like reading them the most?

Hi Anon!!! today is the day I can finally answer this question😈 ahaha you know how much I enjoy making fic recs so 👀 Let’s go!!!

To answer your second question first, I like reading them on AO3 the most! Mostly because I get almost unlimited number of characters to rant in the comment section........... 😆but also the tagging system is very helpful.

Okay, now to the fun part of this ask😏

You said JSHK, but I mostly read Hananene ones so all of my favs include that pairing... as I already did a fic rec here of my favs, this list will continue that one, so please check that one first hehe ((I apologize in advance..., I would love for people to recommend me some mitsukou ones tbh... I’m really lost when it comes to other pairings orz))

If I’m completely honest with you anon-san, my favorite JSHK fic right now is the one Roxanne ( @istoleyourboat ) wrote based of my art and her snippet:

Star-Crossed and Falling- Where Stars Go to Die by lilaflo

Hanako is Princess Nene’s personal knight 👀. A tale of forbidden love. They slowly fall in love as they exchange a series of gifts, one that includes a pair of matching earrings that remind them of their love when they’re apart. Also, jelly Hanako of Nene’s suitors😏... Oh, but nothing lasts forever and those sweet moments will come to an end when they have to face their cruel reality, in this world, they don’t get to choose neither their battles or the ones they love.

Now more of Roxanne, because I seriously enjoy her work so much (I’m sure everyone knows by now lmao sdkj)

Night of the Phantom King by lilaflo

This one is a spooky one. Nene’s regret for never realizing who she truly loves takes her to mourn her deceased friend Amane and cry on his grave in a Halloween night, then suddenly the Phantom King comes to take her away👀 & he looks suspiciously familiar... Beautiful world building btw, also the ending is just, excellent.

12 Year Romance by lilaflo

Amane meets Nene at the Tanabata festival, she’s older than him, but he falls for her instantly, fast forward, Amane is now in middle school, he’s a troublemaker, & gets constantly into fights, but he swears the new school nurse looks familiar... he then realizes it’s her and thinks it must be fate!!!... This one hits close to home bc I’ve been in this situation irl, so I can confirm all of Nene’s struggles are real (and ofc how a love with an age gap should be handled the correct way, this fic really teaches you many life lessons hahaha)

took a sip then another sip, then you turned and said to me by chivalrousamour

This autor has a bunch of good JSHK fics!! I recommend you check their AO3 out, bec you may find something you like for sure! But, this is my absolute fav from them. Nene is a mangaka, celebrating the finishing of her long serialized manga, while Amane is a delivery boy who happens to find her in a very questionable state in her house👀 (it’s all family friendly ofc, anon, I’m not a slimy pervert like some ghost boy)

Maid for Each Other by corologs ( @corologs )

Courtney has this amazing College AU collection series that I encourage you to check out!!! But Maid for each other is my fav!!! So it’s the Yugi twins birthday, and it’s Tsukasa’s turn to choose where they go to celebrate it... you can already tell where this is going... (let the chaos begin) & as the title said, it involves maids!!! (it has Kaicho wa maid sama vibes if you liked that anime~~)

If I Could Tell Her by corologs

What if the picture perfect arc plan was successful??? Well, this fic explores this idea, and it’s very interesting to read. I like how Amane and Hanako are two separate people here.

the horizon tries but it’s just not as kind on the eyes by sincerelyand ( @sunlightinourheadlights )

(Oh my sweet Karen, she writes such good fics, so go check her AO3 out as well!!) Amane and Yashiro are friends that share an apartment (& they were roommates-- OMG they were roommates), even if Amane has its complains, because Nene can be a handful sometimes (and in denial of her true feelings as always, are we even surprised at this point?) he loves her dearly anyways😭.

for real, this time by sourlemoncandy ( @sour-lemon-candy )

Did somebody say fake dating AU?????? Because hell yeah I did asajj I loved reading this so much!! Nene and Amane are childhood friends, and Nene overhears some girls talking about Amane and how one of them plans to ask him out... but she senses these girls are up to no good so she... well, you gotta read it to find out more~~ it’s no fun If I tell ya everything hehe... so go go go!!

lemon cream by sourlemoncandy

Amane and Nene, just two good friends having a road trip and sharing donuts... what could go wrong?? 😏 seriously, I loved this fic so much!! Instant fav! Also makes me wanna try some good sweet donuts...

Trip Down Memory Lane by insipidenvy ( @insipidenvy )

This fic is so sweet. I have such a huge attachment to it, because I read it when I really needed some fluff in my life hahaha. It’s sort of a collection of memories between Amane and Yashiro’s relationship over the years. So heartwarming... if you need the fluffs you’ll enjoy this very much!!

The Radish Princess and the Toilet Prince by insipidenvy

This is my favorite fic from insipidenvy!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! You know how I am a slut for Royalty AUs so that’s why!!!!! Also Toilet Prince!! hahahaha such a good nickname lmao. I love how they bond over their insecurities, it’s very relatable tbh.

Between Wind and Water by WingSongHalo ( @wingsonghalo )

My beautiful Wing always delivering the good Hananene content, as she should!! This fic is so fun to read!! I laughed so hard at Nene and Hanako being awkward with each other!!! So you know how Hanako is super clingy with Nene, he’s always touching & hugging her, but this time something weird happens and he’s so distant~~ Nene doesn’t want to admit it at first, but she misses his clingy ghost boy~~ you’ll have a good time reading this for sure!

The Monster's Bride by Hammsters ( @uglierdaikon )

Have you heard about the myth of Cupid and Psyche? Well this fic rewrites it in a very Hananene way <3 hehe I loved it so much (as I’m a huge fan of mythology~) To sum it up, Nene is fated to marry a monster that lives in the mountains so she’s devastated... to her surprise, her husband is far from what she expected... she only had one rule to obey and well... we all know how reckless Nene is so... you go find out what happens next now!! hehehe

Morning Reflections by FalalalaLa ( @miss-sternennacht )

So you’ve heard of Hanako watching Nene sleep, but what about Nene watching Amane sleep???!! this fic offers you this and so much more fluff <3 Also Nene remembering how they met and how their relationship evolved during the years, aww <3

Cursed Coin by DaikonSenpai ( @daikonsenpai )

There’s a school dance, Yashiro’s supposed to be dancing with Kou (since she can’t go with Hanako, which causes him to be jelly~~ and bitter), but she loses a coin Aoi gave her for good luck so she goes out and searches for it on the last place she saw it, the school fountain. Suddenly Hanako spots her, what’s she doing outside??? is she drunk or something?? what happens next you may find out when you read it~~~

Between Love and Hope by Baronesscmd (SweeterThanYourDarkestSin) ( @baronesscmd )

Oh to be Nene and get to sleep between the Yugi twins... God really has favorites uh... ISTG, this collection of fics is so cute. I love how Nene loves the twins so much in this AU, they have their little cute family. She ofc is in love with Amane, but their relationship with Tsukasa is so tender... it’s mostly this trio having fluffy moments together to heal your soul... if you need some, you’ll get it here for sure hahaha.

Ghost of You (And All the Futures We've Forgotten) by Indigo_Floof milkteamoon ( @indigosienna , @spades-queen )

So anon you may have been wondering, well this bitch likes fluff only???? how about some angst for a change, uh? DAMN, OKAY THEN, here you have some angst to rip your soul out and wish you never sent me this ask in the 1st place, bec of the emotional damage this fic will leave you sdajjsa, also if you liked “Erased”, you’ll love this fic too!

Hanako of the Opera by zxrstan

Finally, but not less important, me being annoying about Hanako of the Opera & POTO AGAIN!!!!!!!!!!!!! This fic is based of the AU Aidairo created mostly, it’s really fun to read if you didn’t get much of what was happening during the Hanako of the Opera event, it has a nice ending also! very satisfying I must say.

AAAAND THIS IS THE END OF MY ALL TIME FAV LIST OMG;;;; Kudos for me for searching through all my damn AO3 and Google Chrome history (from both my PC and phone, since I am a FOOL and forgot my AO3 password so I read a lot of these in the past as a guest before recovering my password LMAO, please be patient with me omg, and also if you see me bookmarking them now, you know why 😭)

Kudos to all of my writer homies as well, I love and appreciate all of you so much!! you have no idea! 💖

I hope you find this list useful, anon!! Thank you for sending me this ask and have a wonderful day!

Ps. Please everyone feel free to add more fics to this list if you want! this is all my personal picks, but I’m aware there are a lot more fics that I haven’t read and deserve as much recognition as the ones I listed!

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reawritesthings · 4 years

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Ratatouille | JJ Maybank

(GIF is made by me. Credit if used)

Summary: JJ Maybank is a clever little rat. Always stealing and never getting caught. Until, he finds himself in the presence of your own home and you finally catch him.

Note: It’s been a hot minute since I’ve released something so it might be a little iffy but, i really hope you enjoy it + feedback is appreciated

"Have you heard about the little rat who keeps stealing our food? Just the other day, my finest roast chicken was taken. I bet it's those dirty Pogues." Mrs Andrew's who resident three doors down complained to a few other figures, who slyly had there eye on your mother's newest trinket.

"You should take it as a compliment, Mrs Andrew's. It means your cooking is divine." You endeavour into her daily rant hoping she could see this in a different light.

Mrs Andrew vexed at your attempt to see the light in this particular theft, " That piece of chicken costs me 30 dollars. I don't pay for my food to be taken, young lady."

You threw your head back, squaring your shoulders with charismatic movement whilst hearing Mrs Andrew's bicker about a false accusation that you might be seeing a Pogue. As the daily neighbour meeting elongated into hours of constantly whining, you decided to seek refuge into a certain Cameron.

You constrain your body to accompany Rafe, your trusted advisor and best alcohol dealer. "Rafe. I need alcohol, pronto."

Rafe disapproved your request, seeing you suffer was a blessing and a curse to his sicken mind, "Mrs Andrew's giving you a hard time?" You nodded, freely motioning your head to rest into his chest.

"She's claiming I'm sleeping with a Pogue because I defended the 'rat' that steals her god damn chicken." Even the mention on the claim provoked you making you feel slightly uncomfortable that you had that potential to sleep with a Pogue.

"Don't you fancy the Maybank kid?" Rafe's eyebrow furrowed knowing too much about your personal life.

"I don't fancy him. I just see him delivering my groceries." Rafe prompted attacked your false claim by falling your emotions further.

"So staring at him for three minutes straight and, finding it hard to say 'thank you' really gives the ' I don't fancy him' vibe."

You awarded Rafe with the finger, gravitating away from his presence before you do something you'll regret.

✿✿✿✿

"JJ, A chicken? Really?" Kiara was slightly miffed by the actions that her best friend accomplishes the night before. JJ rose from his worn-out deck chair that somehow stayed afloat giving the circumstances of the holes present.

"What are you on about, Kie?"

Kiara watched JJ fumble his way towards her, his walk was mistaken for zigzags which only met she had to handle a drunk JJ. "You stole Mrs Andrew's chicken and many more things."

JJ remotely failed to make a face to the name, shrugging his shoulder he twirled away from Kiara, "Mrs Andrew shouldn't be so worked up about a fucking chicken. If I did take the chicken, shouldn't she take it as a compliment?"

"You didn't have to steal it, JJ. You could have just asked me and I would have gotten you groceries." Kiara abbreviated JJ's response, hoping the statement she announced stayed in JJ's mind the next time he decides to steal.

Stealing for JJ was like breathing. He didn't need to, of course - but, he needed to survive. It was like a curse his father placed when he turned to alcohol for pleasure. His friend tried to make him stop, but he couldn't break the curse. He always saw stealing as the only sensible way to survive in the Cut. In this Pogue life, you worked two jobs and were lucky enough to earn a tip. JJ wasn't going to rely on just an hourly income for himself and his drunken father, he needs cash, immediately.

It started with small items, food to help him function for the day. But, as he successful outsmarted Heyward, he thought bigger and placed his icky nose on the other side of the island known as 'Figure 8.' Figure 8 was JJ's dream, a dream that one day he would go full Kook and have a golden statue of himself.

"Noted." JJ bluntly responded but Kie wasn't remotely sure if JJ even took anything she told into account.

JJ watched the sea, lost in the rhythmic percussion of the harsh waves crashing onto the sand. His eyes watched the sunset, spreading into its last ounce of orange rays before twilight awakes. His lips bear the semblance of a smile, just enough to show that he knew what house he wanted to enter, whatever the consequences he was adamant to have another decent meal. JJ landed in Figure 8, a town he knew well from his kleptomaniac days. Since he got the heads up that Mrs Andrews was on the hunt, he vowed to take the beachfront.

His stomach commences into a harsh growl, the pain was noticeable and so was a house. It was three downs up from Mrs Andrews, a typical white framed fence with artificial flowers and wide backyard. JJ's wandering eye teleported him towards the gate, a gate he began to familiarise when his hand touched the newly painted wood.

"Mrs Y/L/N House..." JJ whispered to himself. When JJ's movement came towards the garden he noticed the door left ajar, a scent rushed out of the house and suffocated JJ's nostrils making his belly flip with joy. He knew he couldn't get into trouble due to the door being already open which was odd for Figure 8. JJ approached the door and scanned the ghost-like kitchen to see if anyone was awake.

No one was seen.

JJ pushed the door and it swung open with ease, a blast of air-conditioned of a cold streamed past him, with light jazz escaping through the night. He tiptoed inside, squinting his eyes shut as he didn't want to draw attention to himself. He shamelessly headed from the double magnetized fridge covered with pictures of you and magnets from different states.

"Why do Kook's have beautiful children?" JJ murmured, haltingly placing his hand over the handle letting the momentum of the fridge open revealing a whole stack of food.

"Tempting. What do you fancy tonight, JJ?" He asked himself, fiddling around with the products making sure everything was neatly stacked the way he found it. JJ took out a plate of half-eaten cheesecake, along with a bottle of coke with some fruit on the side.

"I found dessert, but I need dinner. C'mon pretty girl, what did mama make ya?" JJ eyes darted around the island, checking if there were pots present or even a plate visible to him.

"Bingo." JJ teethed with joy as he noticed a pan neatly resting on the stove. "Come to JJ."

As JJ swayed his arching body towards the stove, he smelt the rich scent evaporate around him causing him to gag a little, "This has to do..."

JJ tasted the dish, it looked like someone effortlessly threw random vegetables onto the pan and called it a day. "This is fucking disgusting."

"Tell me about it." You chuckled, repelling the smell of your mother's failed attempt of Ratatouille, and amazed that a boy with the same age demolished the meal in three gulps. "Of all things you could eat, you choose that?"

JJ froze insight, ceiling his eyes shut with a combination of a curse word leaving his lips, "Please don't call the cops."

"I wasn't planning too, Maybank." He was stunned by your response and the mention of his surname.

"How do you know me?" JJ dumbly interrogated the girl, trying to form a vision but the darkness around them forbade him.

You chuckled, as JJ tried to figure out a time where he would have met you."You deliver my groceries every Sunday. You are friends with Pope Heyward, I usually give him a can of beer whenever he is alone."

"Beer girl? No fucking way."

You bowed letting out a quiet laugh. "I'm guessing you are the person who stole Mrs Andrew chicken? and, If you really are that hungry I can make you mac n cheese?"

JJ hurled when the name entered the room, "The ungrateful bitch. She should be glad I stole her chicken. She's hella of a good cook, better than your ma's."

"Anything is better than my mother's cooking. I sometimes ride down to the Wreck for a decent meal. Mr Cerrera's food is the best." You praised the Cerrera's talent whilst you attempted to make Mac n Cheese for the hungry boy.

JJ sent a smirk to his fond smile, "I'm best friends with their daughter. Even though, I'm not their cup of tea... I still get scraps that ungrateful Touron's don't finish."

You envied the Pogue life, even more now as JJ began to blabber on about his adventures of surfing during the hurricane's, going to Mrs Crain's and Rixon's Cove. You liked being a Kook, you had everything you wanted and more but, something was missing. You had friends, Rafe mainly when he wasn't trying to get into your pants and his sister, Sarah but, It wasn't nearly as great as JJ's friends.

"You okay there?" JJ snapped your train of thoughts, placing his hand over yours.

You gave JJ a cramped smile as he took charge of stirring, "Yeah. I was daydreaming."

JJ didn't say a word, knowing it wasn't just a daydream thought. "Cute. How about you come and hang out with us? As for us, I mean the Pogues? But, If you want to hang out just us two..." You cut JJ with a light kiss to his cheek causing a heat of pink to arouse him.

"Taking that as a yes."

You laughed, scooting him away from the stove. "You are my guest. Sit down and I'll give you your food."

JJ did as he was told, hearing your bossy attitude take charge aroused him. "Yes, chef."

You delivered JJ his meal, watching him devour as if it was his last. The small moans escaping from his lips gave you confidence that you weren't a bad cook. "JJ, slow down. It's not going to run away."

"I think you have scored the best cook of Mac n Cheese. I'm definitely coming here, again."

You were meaning to question the boy on how he cleverly entered your house, "How did you even get inside? The alarm was on."

"Simple. the back door was open slightly. Someone must of-" JJ stopped when a gasp escaped your lips.

"Fuck. I forgot to close it." JJ chuckled at the clumsiness of your mind. He managed to figure you out in 10 minutes, which he didn't mind doing.

"It's okay. Maybe you forgot for a reason?" JJ tried to flirt his way into the situation, but you were more infuriated with yourself.

"You saying we were destined to meet, Maybank? I thought a Pogue and Kook don't get along or date." You translated the rules of the two tribes made by Rafe and, JJ.

"Fuck the rules. I tend to break them." JJ shrugged looking around as he proved his point.

"I see. Well, my mother is making spaghetti bolognese tomorrow? I'll leave you a plate outside." You winked, gathering his empty plate.

"And if it all fails, I'll treat you to a nice dinner at the Wreck. My treat..." JJ rambled not wanting to leave your house but, he knew he had too.

"You mean, free food at the Wreck?"

JJ pouted at the response. He was hoping for a simple nod.

"It's a date, Maybank."

masterlist | taglist

#outer banks #outer banks imagines #jj maybank fic #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fanfiction #jj maybank fluff #rafe cameron x you #outerbanks imagine #obx fluff #jj maybank #rudy pankow #obx one shot #jj is remy #disney x obx #outerbanks masterlist #rafe cameron #obx jj maybank

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seasonofthewicth · 4 years

Text

A Groovy Kind of Love - Chapter 9

AN: a slightly longer one today guys, got myself all emotional with the rowaelin here and i hope it gets you too

masterlist - ao3

------

“He was friendly when he first came in,” Chaol’s normally subdued tone was full of energy as he spun his tale, eyes wide with excitement as he looked towards Aelin. “But then so quickly he goes completely crazy, shouting and ranting so loud in my face that Maeve has to come in and see what the problem is.”

Yrene laughed fondly at her husband as she rested a hand on his shoulder where she sat across the wooden staff room table from Aelin, “You could hear it all the way down the corridor.”

Aelin laughed as she took in Chaol’s wide eyed expression and Dorian’s restrained laughter, Yrene’s gentle grin and Nehemia’s cool smirk.

Her first parent-teacher conference at the new school was this evening, and to her absolute delight, her friends were busy spinning their horror stories. Admittedly, she was nervous for the event, and even though it wasn’t her first time it was always an unnerving experience at a new school. It was her opportunity to introduce herself to the parents as Miss Galathynius and show them who she was, what she had, and to prove to them that she was the best choice for their children.

Realistically, she knew she had no reason to be nervous, her class were a great group of children, they all tried hard and engaged enthusiastically with her lessons, but meeting their parents for the first time was important. Making her first impression as an educator was important, and she knew that people sometimes unfairly judged her. At her previous school she knew some of the parents had made some unfair and incorrect assumptions about her but she had tried not to let it bother her. Had tried to brush off their barely hidden insults about her styles of teaching and even her choices of clothing. She couldn’t change peoples’ opinions but she could try to change their lasting impressions of herself.

Dorian had assured her that the majority of the parents at the school were great, most were pretty chilled out as long as their child wasn’t falling too far behind, which Aelin knew hers weren’t. That said, it was Dorian who had prompted the story time session in the break room, wordlessly picking up on her nervousness and launching into every horror story he could remember from his years teaching.

Since their ill-fated affair he had cemented his place in her life as one of her closest friends, rivalling only Lysandra in level of familiarity and they had spent an increasing amount of time together. From coffee runs to lounging around the loft watching movies she enjoyed every moment they spent together and she was comfortable that there was no remaining awkwardness from their brief tangle.

She hadn’t told anyone the outcome of their date yet, she hadn’t had much time to catch up with Lysandra since, and it wasn’t something she was particularly keen to tell her roommates. As much as she loved them there were times that their typical guy nature made her hesitant to share, and her failure to sleep with her date was not something she felt like sharing with them.

She was especially reluctant to share that piece of information with Rowan, he had told her to forget about their moment in the kitchen, and she had tried. It just hadn’t worked out quite as she had planned. But she was resolved, she would get over him, and if having him think she was dating Dorian told him she was, she wasn’t complaining.

“It took five minutes for us to even figure out what he was yelling about.” Chaol continued, flashing her an exasperated look.

“Which was?” Aelin asked, already grinning in anticipation of whatever ridiculous answer Chaol could give.

In her experience Chaol was a by-the-book teacher. She liked him, he was pretty smart, straightforward and an involved and ambitious teacher, she couldn’t imagine him doing anything deserving of being shouted at by a parent.

“Chaol had, completely unreasonably,” Dorian drawled sarcastically, tossing his unstarted apple between his palms, “decided to offer his students a quiz for the last class of the week instead of one more hour of curriculum teaching.”

Yrene sketched a mocking gasp and Nehemia held a hand to her chest as she rolled her eyes at the story.

“Could you imagine such a thing?” She laughed, eyes dancing with mirth as she grinned over to Aelin.

Aelin shook her head in mock horror at Chaol, unable to fully hide her smile as she laughed along.

“How could you?” She asked, half laughing at the absurdity of the parent’s rage and half at Chaol’s over the top attempt at a dejected expression. “You aren’t actually making me feel any better about later, by the way.”

Yrene reached over to squeeze her shoulder, “You don’t need us to do that, they will all love you I’m sure.”

Aelin needed more of Yrene’s optimism in her life and admittedly the woman’s kind smile was infectious. She was also right, why wouldn’t they love her?

------

The documentary on the television hadn’t fully captured Rowan’s attention, it was something about an animal in the rainforest and he had missed the part where it’s name was given, but it would do for a lazy afternoon while the rest of his roommates were at work. The afternoons were one of his favourite times of the day, he had the loft to himself to read or watch or listen to whatever he wanted in the usually shared spaces rather than his ordinarily messy and somewhat cramped bedroom.

Being the only one of his roommates to not work in the daytimes had its ups and downs, the freedom and space was a definite pro, but sometimes it could be lonely sitting around the loft on his own, and the days Lorcan was off with him after working a shift were often ones he enjoyed the most. His friend had a sarcastic and wicked sense of humour that worked well with Rowan’s relatively blunt demeanor. He’d never tell him that though.

Of everyone in the loft he had known Lorcan for the shortest amount of time. Technically, but he didn’t count the years of Aelin being in his periphery as knowing her. They had met through Fenrys, and Rowan wasn’t convinced that even Fenrys knew how he had come to be friends with the surly male, their personalities weren’t ones Rowan would have expected to be friends, but years later Lorcan had managed to cement himself as one of Rowan’s closest friends.

He checked the time on his phone as the sound of the loft front door caught his attention, none of his roommates should be at the loft at this time.

Seconds later Aedion came into view, already shucking off his tie before launching himself onto the couch next to Rowan with a deep sigh. Rowan slowly turned his head towards his best friend, waiting for him to reopen his eyes before raising his eyebrows.

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” He began. “But why are you here?”

Aedion laughed before rolling forwards to sit upright on the sofa.

“Turned in the final piece for one of our biggest accounts this morning so we all got the afternoon off.”

“Nice,” Rowan nodded, Aedion probably worked the hardest of all of them in the loft. He worked for a marketing firm that had a bunch of high profile clients and he spent many nights in the office working overtime. Rowan shared those unpopular hours, but was grateful he didn’t have the early mornings too. “What are you doing for the rest of the day then?”

Aedion shrugged. “Thought I could spend some quality time with you my friend. Maybe find out what you wanted to talk to me about the other day.”

Aedion’s smirk was predatory, and Rowan felt like a deer in the headlights. He opened his mouth then closed it again.

He had been more than lucky to have gotten away with it for so long, he was surprised Aedion had managed the few days of Rowan saying nothing before giving in and straight up asking.

Since Aelin’s date with Dorian the man’s presence had become a regular feature of the loft, each visit reducing Rowan’s desire to admit any of his feelings about Aelin to anyone, let alone Aelin herself. He had tried to avoid being in the room when they were snuggling on the couch or had quickly changed the topic when he had come up in conversation.

Message received. He was at least glad that Aelin seemed happy, and it was his own fault that it wasn’t with him. He had told her to forget it ever happened and she had. Why Aedion wanted to make him talk about it now was anyone’s guess, he just wanted to deal with it alone. Preferably by not thinking about it, or at least trying not to.

“Oh nothing,” He brushed it off. “It doesn’t matter now.”

Aedion raised a golden eyebrow, unimpressed with Rowan’s clear denial and he winced internally. He should have known better than to assume Aedion would have been satisfied with that.

“Are you sure?” Aedion’s question was all too innocent. “You sure it wasn’t about anyone in particular?”

Rowan gritted his teeth, knowing he was just going to have to let this play out.

Aedion took a moment, pretending to ponder his next words and letting Rowan stew in his anticipation. “Not even my darling cousin?”

Rowan felt his cheeks begin to burn as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Aedion was a smug son of a bitch, smiling at Rowan like a cat who got the cream.

Rowan took a deep breath in. “Don’t fucking tell anyone, okay.”

Aedion’s expression dropped into something slightly more serious.

“Pinky swear,” Aedion grinned at him and Rowan flashed him a glare.

“I’m definitely not saying anything if you’re not being serious.”

Aedion cleared his throat, making a show of sobering his expression. “I’m serious, okay, now go.”

“So you clearly know something went down between me and Aelin,” That was as good a place to start as any he supposed. “How did you even find out about that?”

“Lysandra.” Aedion’s voice was almost dopey as he said the woman’s name. Gross, even though he was happy for his friend it was gross.

“Nice to know you and your girlfriend have nothing better to do than gossip about me.” Rowan frowned.

“Believe me, we have better things to do,” Aedion’s grin took over his whole face. “It’s just when we’re done we move on to pitying you…”

“I said be serious.” Rowan said bluntly, embarrassed enough as it was.

“Sorry, sorry.” Aedion held his hands up. “Continue.”

“There isn’t much more to be said.” He paused, realising the almost uncomfortable truth in his own words. “She’s moved past it anyway, like I told her too, so that’s it. We’re good, no danger of that.”

The look Aedion gave him was pure pity and Rowan looked away fast.

“Ro,” His friend’s voice was soft as he said his name, but he struggled for anything more, clearly reading Rowan better than he ever wanted to be read.

Rowan shrugged. “It’s fine, we’re all good.”

Aedion opened his mouth to speak but Rowan interrupted before he could get a word out.

“You need to tell her about you and Lysandra.” He could only see the secret ending in disaster, and now he was involved. He owed it to Aedion to keep the secret, but the guilt of keeping it from Aelin was eating away at him.

Aedion sighed, “I know. We will, soon. It’s just, when? You know?”

“You need to do it soon.” Rowan told him, feeling somewhat like a parent scolding a child. “You’re only going to upset her, and keeping it all a secret longer is just going to make it worse.”

Aedion looked down to the couch they sat on, avoiding Rowan’s eyes.

“I know.” He sighed.

“I don’t want her to get hurt.” It was as much as Rowan was willing to admit out loud.

“I don’t either.” Aedion’s tone was defensive and Rowan sighed.

“Now,” He began, pushing off the couch and standing above his friend. “I have a shift at the bar, you coming?”

Aedion half-smiled up at him. “Alright, but I’m not paying for any of my drinks.”

Rowan scoffed, “When do you ever?”

Aedion rose to his feet, shrugging, “Just making sure.”

Rowan rolled his eyes, feeling as Aedion always made him feel, relaxed and amused with the usual hint of mild irritation.

------

The evening had passed relatively quickly, all of the parents she had met so far had been lovely and were well engaged in their children’s lives and education which Aelin always appreciated. She only had one parent left to meet, the father of her student Evangeline, a bubbly young girl who Aelin adored. The young girl was inquisitive and tried hard with anything Aelin threw at them, a perfect student in Aelin’s eyes.

A knock on her classroom door sounded and she jumped to her feet, calling out for them to come in as she rose. The man who came through her doorway was striking, his golden hair shone and his green eyes were bright. He was dressed in a sharp grey suit, his white shirt unbuttoned at the collar and his tie was missing.

He held a hand out for her to shake and she caught a brief glance of a tattoo on his wrist, one that looked almost like a snake, peeking past his expensive looking watch.

“Archer Finn,” His voice was low and smooth, as he flashed her a polished smile.

“Aelin Galathynius,” She shook his hand firmly and smiled widely. “Please, take a seat.”

The man slid smoothly into the seat opposite her, and she forced her mind to focus on the task at hand, and reminded herself that this was one of her student’s fathers. No sign of a ring, her unhelpful mind added.

“Thank you, Miss Galathynius,” He folded his hands in his lap. “I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to speak with you about Evangeline’s progress.”

Aelin grinned. “As have I, Evangeline is a fantastic student, the passion she displays in the classroom is phenomenal. Her artwork-- she displays a level of true talent.”

“Yes,” His tone was clipped. “That is what I have been hoping to talk to you about.”

Aelin felt her smile freeze.

“Evangeline will not be participating in any art activities from this point onwards, I don’t believe they are of any value. To put it bluntly, they’re a complete waste of time.”

Aelin was frozen, paused in a state of shock at the man’s words.

“I unfortunately have to disagree--”

He held a hand up to stop her and she recoiled.

“Please, Miss Galathynius,” He huffed out a condescending laugh and Aelin felt her blood begin to boil. “As her father I believe I know what is best for Evangeline.”

“And what is that?” She asked dryly.

Archer Finn seemed to take a moment, raking his eyes from her head to her toe before meeting her gaze again. She could tell the look hadn’t been one of appreciation and she bristled.

“What Evangeline needs is a teacher who takes her education seriously, someone who understands that painting her pretty pictures is a waste of time.” The sarcasm in his voice had her clenching her jaw, but she tried to rein in her temper, remembering that she was still new to the school.

“Mr Finn, I--”

He held a hand to her face again and stood, buttoning his suit jacket as he did, and Aelin slowly rose out of her chair.

“Mr Finn, I have a masters degree in children’s education, I know the value of creativity in learning.” Aelin could hardly keep her voice steady as she spoke, barely concealing the anger the man in front of her had managed to unleash inside her in such a short space of time.

The man seemed to sneer at her words, looking down his nose at her as he frowned.

“You may well have, and I’m sure it was worth every penny to you.” He smirked at her, crushing her with only a handful of words. “Either way, Evangeline will be seeing a private tutor during your creative hours.”

The scorn in his voice burned her, hitting her in a deep part of her soul that wasn’t often exposed. She knew she was right, knew that she knew what Evangeline needed, knew that her methods of teaching had merit and worth. This sad excuse for a father was blind and arrogant if he thought he knew better than Aelin, but she was trapped. What more could she say to change his mind?

In her silence he had crossed the room to pause by the door before turning back to look at her where she stood dumbfounded behind her desk, clenching her fists at her sides and trying to compose herself.

“I’m glad we had this chat, Miss Galathynius.” With that he was gone, taking his smug and condescending atmosphere with him.

Her breath rushed out of her in a gust, burning her throat as she held back the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn’t believe him, Mr Finn. The audacity he had to walk into her classroom and speak to her like that.

She dropped back into her seat, resting both of her hands against the cool wood of her desk and focussing on all the knots and whorls in the wood, breathing deeply in and out as she centred her thoughts. She almost couldn’t believe how her evening had ended up and she let out a brief snort at the idea that maybe her story could now beat Chaol’s from this morning.

A knock at her door snapped her to attention, if Mr Finn had come back for another go at her she wouldn’t be able to bite her tongue this time. Her fears were sedated when a familiar head of dark curls poked around the door frame.

Dorian’s smile was bright and easy as he walked towards her, perching on the front of one of her student's desks.

“So?” He asked as he crossed his ankles in front of himself, the portrait of a male completely at ease.

Aelin only shook her head, unable to sum up her final visit in a few words.

“Have you ever taught Evangeline Finn?” She managed, hating how destroyed she sounded even to her own ears.

Dorian barely managed to cover his wince.

“Ah,” He sighed. “You met Archer Finn. How bad was it?”

She looked at the floor, holding back the flood that wanted to break through, she refused to cry in school over a parent, no matter how much he had riled her up.

“Bad,” She managed but her voice betrayed her, letting a crack rip through the word.

Dorian was around the desk and at her side within a second, resting a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“What did he say?” Dorian asked, his tone gentle as if not to startle her.

Aelin sniffed. “Oh you know, the usual, dismissing my teaching and belittling my degree.”

She let out a self-deprecating laugh as she looked to Dorian whose brow creased at her words.

“Don’t listen to him. You know he’s not right.” She knew his words were earnest, but they couldn’t keep the doubt at bay and she shrugged out of his hold.

“I don’t know,” She looked away.

“Come on,” Dorian tried. “Let’s get a drink or something, take your mind off it.”

“Thanks, Dorian. But I think I just want to go home and be alone.”

Dorian’s mouth twisted as he considered it, probably weighing up whether or not to try again. Eventually he relented.

“Text me if you need anything, okay? I’m here for you.”

She lightly squeezed his hand before rising to pack up her things. His offer hadn’t tempted her, she did want to be alone, but maybe a drink wouldn’t be such a bad idea.

------

The bar was relatively busy, a few customers every so often had him drifting in and out of conversation with Aedion. Lorcan had joined Aedion at the bar not long after they arrived, grumbling about something or other that Rowan soon avoided, turning back to another customer after dropping off Lorcan’s pint.

A brief lull allowed him to drift back to his friends, wiping down a few spills along the bar as he went.

“It’s the fucking worst, all right.” The dark-haired giant complained, words muffled by the strong hand he ran down his face.

Rowan turned to Aedion for explanation who merely shrugged before lifting his empty glass to Rowan. He grabbed it and turned to refill it as Lorcan spoke again.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this, stupid regulations and reforms.”

Lorcan was clearly in a talking mood tonight. Rowan met Aedion’s eyes, a silent challenge, begging the blond man to speak first but Aedion just leaned back in his seat, taking a large gulp of his beer. Rowan flicked him the middle finger before turning to Lorcan.

“What is?”

Lorcan turned the force of his glare to Rowan who shifted against the unexpected heat.

“My stupid boss.”

“What about them?” Aedion finally joined in.

Lorcan sighed, a frustrated sound as if explaining it would be hard work. Rowan grinned a sharp flash of teeth at Aedion who rolled his eyes at their friend’s dramatics.

“I don’t want to talk about it. I want to drink.” Lorcan finished his drink in a final swig, placing the glass before Rowan ceremoniously.

Rowan scooped it up, sketching a mocking salute at his friend. “That, we can do.”

As he turned he spotted Fenrys making his way over from the door and he grabbed another glass to fill as the golden-haired man took his seat. He dumped the drinks in front of his friends with little finesse as Fenrys spoke.

“Why is Aelin sitting in the corner on her own?”

Aelin?

“Aelin’s here?” Aedion asked as the four of them turned to look where Fenrys had pointed.

Sure enough, Aelin was tucked away in a booth in the corner of the room. He hadn’t noticed her come in and Rowan could see the glum expression on her face even from a distance.

“Is she okay?” He managed.

“She doesn’t look okay.”

The three of them swivelled to look at Lorcan, matching looks of disbelief across each of their faces.

“Has she said anything to any of you?” Fenrys asked. “Anything to Lysandra?” With a look to Aedion who shook his head.

“Should we go over?” Aedion asked, an unsure twist to his mouth.

“If she wanted to sit with us she’d be here.” Lorcan said bluntly.

“Shut up, asshole.” Rowan narrowed his eyes. “I’ll take her a drink.”

-------

The glass of wine was cool in his hand as he made his way across the bar, skirting round tables of customers as he went.

“Hey,” His voice was soft as he reached Aelin’s booth, lingering by the edge of the table as she looked up at him.

His heart jolted at the expression she wore. Her beautiful blue eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her plush pink lips twisted into a pout. She swallowed before speaking and the hurt in her voice tore his heart again.

“Oh. Didn’t think you’d notice me here.” Her voice was quiet as he dropped into the seat opposite her and pushed the glass towards her.

“It’s kind of my job to notice who needs a drink,” He said equally quietly, leaning forwards and pressing his arms against the table between them. He had hoped his words would bring a smile but Aelin pursed her lips, debating, before reaching towards the glass and taking a sip.

At least there was that.

“You don’t-- I mean, you don’t have to answer... If you don’t want to, but,” He didn’t usually stumble over his words so much. “Are you okay?”

Aelin’s refusal to meet his eyes pretty much answered his question, but he still waited for her to speak.

She blew out a breath, the air teasing the fair strands of hair around her face as she looked towards the ceiling then back down to him.

“Not really.” She said as she looked away from him again.

He spared a glance over to the bar where his friends sat, watching him and Aelin, each with expressions of concern. Even Lorcan for all his grumbling before Rowan came over.

“What happened?” He asked as gently as he could.

Aelin took a sip of her wine, glancing around the bar and spotting their friends who quickly jumped back into their own conversation before resting her gaze back on him.

She shrugged, putting her glass back on the table before speaking.

“One of my student’s parents basically told me I’m a shit teacher today.”

“Aelin no,” The words left him in a rush, utterly raw in his desperation to reassure her. “Aelin, you have to know you’re not a shit teacher.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, her pout still standing strong.

“What did they say?”

“Just that my degree is worthless and that I don’t know what’s best for the kids.”

Asshole. Fucking asshole.

If he ever saw the asshole who had said those cruel words to Aelin he’d-- He didn’t know what he’d do but it would hurt.

“Aelin, don’t listen to them. That’s not true.”

“It’s not?” Her question, in combination with her soft sniffle shattered him.

He reached out to lightly grasp one of her hands in his, gently toying with her delicate fingers.

“Of course not Aelin. You’re an incredible teacher.”

She drew her hand back to take another sip of her wine.

“How would you know?” She asked. “You’ve never seen me teach.”

“I don’t need to Aelin. I know you, and you’re everything a good teacher should be. Kind, caring, patient, passionate-”

“Okay,” She interrupted.

“I’m serious Aelin, promise me you won’t believe a word that asshole said.”

She scoffed, looking away from him yet again.

“Aelin?”

“Okay, I promise.” Her tone was resigned, but at least she had agreed. He didn’t know how much help he had managed to be, but he hoped at least a small part of her had listened.

“What are you doing sitting alone anyway? You can always come to us with things like this.” He knew without a doubt that the others would agree.

She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, and Rowan’s fingers itched to follow the motion but he held his hands together, now under the table. She shrugged as a faint blush crossed her cheeks and Rowan fought the warmth blooming inside him at the sight.

“Come and drink with us.” He said, nodding his head towards where the others were sitting at the bar. “Salvaterre’s miserable too so you won’t be alone.”

At that, Aelin’s lips twitched as the hint of a smile ghosted across her face, it was the closest he had seen all night and he’d take it.

“Why?” Her voice was quiet.

“Other than the usual?” He joked and she finally cracked a real smile, small but still there, and the relief that flooded through him was like lightning. “I think it’s something about his work or his boss, I don’t really know.”

He slid himself out of the booth and held a hand out to her, his final request, if she really didn’t want to join them he could accept that, but he knew he’d still keep an eye on her for the rest of the night.

Thankfully she stood, grabbing her things and leading the way over to their friends, and he sent a silent prayer of thanks to the gods. Over her head he saw Aedion flash him a thankful smile. She flopped onto a stool next to Fenrys as Rowan slid back behind the bar.

“So,” She turned to Lorcan, barely missing a beat. “What are you crying about now?”

Lorcan didn’t hesitate before lunging into his story, his own subtle way of making sure Aelin was alright and not dwelling on her issues.

“My new boss is an asshole. Turns up in Rifthold fresh out of headquarters in somewhere called Perranth, and thinks everyone should just bow down or something. Now, first of all, I’ve never even heard of Perranth,” He paused to take a bitter swig of his beer.

“Me neither,” Fenrys chimed in.

“It’s in Terrasen,” Aelin said after a sip of her own wine. The heaviness from before didn’t weigh on her face anymore and Rowan turned to serve another customer, hiding his smile. “I think I went once when I was a kid.”

Lorcan frowned at her but Rowan could tell it lacked it’s usual heat.

“Whatever,” Lorcan continued. “The point is, I’ve worked here for years, I know Rifthold and how things are done. Captain Lochan has been here all of five minutes and apparently knows all the improvements we need to make.”

The curl of Lorcan’s lips as he hissed his boss’ name prompted a small laugh, the guy must be a total hardass to have Lorcan so riled.

“What’s wrong with the improvements?” Aelin asked and Lorcan sighed.

“Nothing is wrong with the improvements,” He muttered and Aelin finally laughed, the tinkling sound washing over Rowan and settling into his bones.

“So what’s the problem?” Aedion asked after a moment, the question that they were all thinking and Lorcan shot him a glare, this time not lacking any heat.

“The problem is the Captain. So controlling and everything has to be done in exactly their way, constantly on me about my reports as well.” He rolled his eyes, clearly over talking about his boss and Rowan couldn't help from poking the bear one last time.

“Why don’t you invite the Captain here? I don’t know any problem a free beer couldn’t solve.”

“Absolutely not.” Lorcan said, shaking his head.

“Well I, for one, want to meet the famous Captain Lochan.” Fenrys grinned. “Especially if it would annoy you so much.”

“Don’t.” Lorcan said, a hair’s width below a growl.

“Why not?” Aedion joined in and Rowan watched the smile settling on Aelin’s lips at their friends’ antics.

He shook himself, laughing along as Lorcan slugged Aedion in the shoulder.

“Maybe find something to take your mind off it?” Fenrys suggested and Rowan knew where he was going would be fun. “Get a pet or something?”

“Just watch me, boyo.” Lorcan bared his teeth around the grin threatening to take over his own face. His pretend displeasure only just winning the battle.

The smile on Aelin’s face struck him again in its beauty, and he forced his attention away from her and back to the idiots now suggesting outlandish animals Lorcan could bring home as a pet.

He bit his lip as Aelin suggested a lion in response to Aedion’s tiger and thanked the gods again that she was smiling.

------

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@ireallyshouldsleeprn

@superspiritfestival

@aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

@spyofthenightcourt

@jlinez

@queen-of-glass

@booknerdproblems

@sjmships

@elriel4life

@bamchickawowow

@woollycat22

@claralady

@illyrianwitchling

@SHINYA-HIIRAGI

hmu if any tags don’t work

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moonflower-31 · 4 years

Text

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 6

Pairing: Spencer x Reader

Warnings: Descriptions of murders, cases, Serial killer facts,

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~

○●♡●○

It had been about two months or so since your little impromptu sleepover at the resident genius's place. Things had gotten a little better, at least on your part.

"Hey!"

You jumped from your make-do desk in your room, snapping your head towards the doorway where a friendly face awaited you. Gabriel had a bag of sweets in one hand and a malt in the other. "Jesus, Gabe you scared me." You cursed, holding a hand to your chest.

"At least we're even." He points out, putting the malt on the table in front of you. Also inconveniently on top of your written notes for the paper you had to write. You growled and moved the drink, glaring at your best friend.

"You've gotten even with me plenty of times since then! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" You ask in exasperation. Gabriel pretends to ponder your question as he pops a caramel apple sucker into his mouth.

"Says the girl who didn't call me to tell me she was home and instead decided to stay with the coworker she has a crush on. You didn't even bribe me with details!" He complained, dumping a few sweets in front of you.

You grumpily grab one of the sweets he had graciously offered and tossed it into your mouth. "It was one time! And I hadn't slept for like, four days! Besides, it wasn't my fault my mother decided to drop by and visit!" You huff.

"Yeah yeah. You know how much I hate that hag. Nothing against you, sugar tits." Gabriel comments, pulling the pop from his mouth. "But still, no excuse not to call me. Send me a text even. Some proof of life." He grumbled. "That malt is yours by the way. Iris insisted I get one for you while we were out. Couldn't say no."

You look over at the bright pink striped cup dripping with condensation that created a wet circle on the desk. For being pissed at you for over two months, Gabriel was a good friend.

You took the malt and started sipping generously. "I'm sorry, okay? What do I have to do to prove it to you?" You ask.

Gabriel smirked. You hated when he got ideas.

"Tell me about your night with Mister teacher's pet. Then I'll consider it." He teased, quickly bopping your nose.

"I already told you. After my bitch mother confronted me, he convinced me to head to his place. I couldn't say no. He eventually read me a poem and I fell asleep. And… he knows my real name now. Happy?" You asked with a groan.

"Oh come on, that can't be all of it!" He whined, almost like a child about to throw a tantrum for being forced to eat his vegetables. Not that Gabriel was any different. He would fight you tooth and nail if you tried.

"It is! Nothing else happened! No kiss, no dramatic display of feelings, no nothing. Just a really awkward drive to work." You huffed.

The thought of the drive was a little hurtful. After the night you both had, well more like morning and you slept through the rest of the day, Spencer had been distant. It didn't last long as a couple days later they all had to get on the jet for another case. Spencer then began to re-warm up to you and now you knew nothing different. Though he didn't try to flirt with you anymore. Not like Morgan. But the previous moments where he had you backed up against the map, or had called you a good girl. He never did it again. And to be honest, you missed it despite how embarrassed you were afterwards.

"Boo! And I thought you liked the guy!" Gabriel exclaimed, acting baffled at the chain of events in your life. He then shrugged. "More fish in the sea I guess." He teased, obviously gaging you for a response.

"I do! Just… I'm not as obscenely obvious about it as you want me to be!" You hissed, sucking up more chocolate malt into your mouth with a little bit of a pissy attitude.

"Well if you were, I'm sure he'd be your teacher's aide boyfriend by now. Now, who's right and wrong in this situation? Hm? Yeah, me. No debate." He insists, putting the sucker back into his mouth.

"Shut up. I have to write this paper. For my doctorate in social science." You explain. "Just because you stopped going to school doesn't mean I can't go ahead and add another doctorate to my belt." You try to change the subject, hoping Gabriel would ease up on you.

"You and those doctorates. Are you seriously trying to build a filing cabinet up there or are you just bored with working for the FBI already?" Gabriel asks, flopping down onto your bed.

"Neither. I just want to know as much as I can in all of my areas of schooling. Be taken seriously." You insist.

"Boring. Why don't you take classes on making candy or something? That would be seriously cool. And then you can open up your own business just to spite those parents of yours!

I can see it now!" He rants, hanging his head over the edge of your mattress as he spreads his hands as if displaying the business name.

You roll your eyes. "No thanks. That sounds like something you should do though. You'd fit right into that role, you know. Candyman." You tease. "Now I really gotta finish this paper." You insist.

"Fine fine. Just be sure to come down from your academic heaven long enough to eat dinner once Iris is finished." He insists, winking at you before he leaves your room.

Finally, you had your peace and quiet. But it was weird. The peace and quiet was very quickly becoming deafening by the influx of thoughts. Not the helpful kind either.

You began to come up blank on ideas for your paper and had more ideas on how you could have maybe done something different to prevent that awkward drive to work all those weeks ago. Where did this uncertainty come from?

You grumble and close your laptop after ten minutes of no progress. Maybe you just needed a break. Then again, it was your day off. And you didn't feel like wishing bad things on someone just so you'd be able to go into work.

Almost as if the universe had been listening and decided to throw you a sickened bone, you heard your phone begin to ring. You eagerly pick it up, knowing it would be something to keep you busy.

"Hello, Agent (L/N)." You answer without checking the caller ID.

"Yes, (L/N) I need you to come in. We have another case." Hotch answers the phone. You feel a slight feeling of excitement strike at your core. Sure, you'd been on 6 cases so far, but you enjoyed being around your fellow agents and putting another unsub away.

"Do I get any insight, Hotch?" You ask.

"It's a case in Lebanon Kansas. We have a large group of bodies piling up. We have two suspects we believe are working with each other. We just need to profile them and catch them before they kill again. I'll inform everyone once you've arrived." As soon as he finished, he hung up. He didn't give you any chance to reply. Typical Hotch fashion.

You stand up immediately, grabbing your bag and your go-bag you had packed at all times just in case this happened. You grabbed the malt you still had and drank the rest of it, grabbing a couple of the caramel apple pops Gabriel had left and shoving them into your pocket.

You wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a plastic container and putting some of dinner into it.

"Woah, woah, where the hell are you going so late?" Gabriel asked in a fatherly tone. You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a moment.

"I have work. Duh."

"Work? I thought you were off?" Iris asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I am. But unfortunately serial killers don't care that I'm off. Sorry guys. I promise I'll call you guys once I get back, okay?" You promise, finding a lid and putting it on the tubberware.

"You better. Or else I'll stick gum in your hair. And not the easy to get out stuff." Gabriel threatened teasingly, taking a quick bite of his food. "Have fun arresting some muttonheads!" He called.

You chuckle and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Will do!" You reply before you turn around and head out of your shared apartment.

○●♡●○

"Hey! (L/N)!"

You turn your head as you arrive to the bullpen. You smile as the eccentric Penelope Garcia raced up to you to give you a hug once you were down the stairs.

You graciously accepted the hug and turned to everyone else. "What did I miss?" You ask.

"Nothing much. Only Reid finally showing us another magic trick!" Penelope answered for everyone. Morgan chuckled and Reid blushed slightly. Emily was leaned slightly against Reid's desk, looking at you warmly.

"Seriously, he's really good." Emily affirmed. You chuckled and walked over in interest.

"Really now? Show me." You insist, standing in front of Spencer. He looked up at you and did a nervous chuckle.

"W-well your gonna have to turn around." He says, giving you an adorable michevious smirk.

"Oh come on-" you begin.

"He does this everytime, you'll get used to it." Emily adds, laughing slightly as she begins to turn around.

"Spencerrr… please? For me?" You asked, batting your eyes pitifully. You knew it would probably get you nowhere, but you could at lease try.

"No." He insisted.

"Pleaseeee!" You beg again, putting your hands in a clasped position. You even bended your knees slightly to add to the effect.

Instead of the immediate rejection, he pondered for a moment and stared at you.

"Come on kid, one person knows a magician's tricks. Let her be your protégé." Morgan suggests. You giggle and shook your head.

"No really, it's fine. You don't have to show me-" you begin to backtrack, not wanting to force Spencer into showing you.

"I'll do it. I-I mean… I have to find someone to pass my gifts onto." He chuckles, rubbing his neck a little nervously.

"Really?"

"Yeah!" He expressed.

Morgan raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he watched you two. He leaned over to Emily who had made her way over to where he stood and whispered into her ear.

Spencer then told everyone to turn their heads away except for you. Then he began to show you the way he made the mini bottle rocket. He wrapped his hands around yours and helped you with each step. The warmth of his hands spread to your cheeks, and the touch of them sent shivers down your spine.

"Then turn it upside down and…" Spencer instructed in a whisper, helping you to turn the cap upside down. You watched the foaming top for a few seconds, moving closer towards the unknowing danger of the cap. As soon as it began to jump up, Spencer pushed you back with an inaudible warning. You watched as the bottle skyrocketed and flew fast Hotch's ear. Through this, his hand clutched as your shoulder and refused to leave it.

"Reid, I thought I told you not to do that." Hotch warned.

Reid's face grew a little brighter with embarrassment. You didn't know what came upon you then, but you stood up and gulped. "It-it was me. He taught me and I shot it. Sorry sir." You insisted.

Hotch's lips pulled into a slight smile as he looked back towards you. He didn't say anything afterwards, but you knew he was just teasing you both. "Meet up in the confrence room in five minutes, we have another case." He says after he cleared his throat. You nodded with a cheerful smile and put your bag in your chair. You glanced to Spencer, flashing him a gentle smile before you turned to enter the conference room.

You entered the room and took your seat, taking the tablet out that Garcia had given you before. "So what do we have?" You asked.

"We have what is assumed to be over a dozen bodies killed with different MO's and different stages of aggression. The only thing that links them are the DNA from one or both of these suspects; Jensen and Sam Westchester. And boy do they have long records. That's why we were able to find their DNA matches so quick." Penelope answered.

Spencer took a seat beside you, causing your heart to skip just slightly. "How come we don't have these men yet? Why do they need our help?" You ask.

"We need to apprehend them. And get a confession. The Kansas state court system has been known to be unpredictable. Sometimes evidence is enough, other times they get off with a warning and community service." Hotch answers.

"At least they do that." Morgan grumbled. "How come we don't have these guys yet? Are they that slick?"

"Unfortunately yes. They are like Houdini when it comes to busting out of prisons and facilities. The last prison they were held in, one up in Ohio, said they were able to escape through knocking out a guard and switching clothes with him. They were in for a robbery charge." Penelope continued.

"So why escalate to murder? Unless these murders were scattered." You ask.

"They are. Over 15 years worth. It looks like they could maybe have more." Spencer spoke up, looking over the picture of one of the more recent bodies.

"It's quite possible. After all, Harold Shipman managed to get away with 218 proven murders. But they think he could've done as many as 250." You answer, sharing a serial killer fact you found interesting.

"So we just need to profile these boys and figure out the motive. And if we apprehend them, keep them apart." Emily points out.

"Why do you say that?" Rossi asks.

"If you notice the trend in each of these escapes, they only manage to escape when in contact with the other. In the prison they had time to be able to see one another and formulate a plan. Even when in questioning they were able to get notes to each other."

"Then we'll have to split up and get seperate confessions. These two are brothers, and neither seem to fit the submissive type.' Hotch explains.

"Two alpha males killing for seemingly no reason for half their lives. This'll be easy to get them to confess and rat out their partner." You say sarcastically.

"We have to try. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announces, standing up and leaving the room.

You sigh and pick up the tablet. "Garcia, can you go ahead and check more than just their juvie records? I wanna have a list of information I can pick from for the profile. Possibly pinpoint some areas of their lives that lead to this behavior." You ask.

"Oh, but of course Queen! I'll get straight on that. But most of it will probably be sealed." She warned.

"Unseal those records Garcia. Anything that can help us." Morgan interjects as he grabs his bag and he too leaves the conference room. Garcia nods to him and quickly clicks her heels as she leaves the room. You sigh and pick up your things as you prepare to get onto the jet.

"You didn't have to defend me."

"Hm?" You ask, turning to look at Spencer. "Oh, you mean the rocket-thingy?" You clarify. "I was the one to beg you to teach me. Let's just be happy it didn't hit him in the head." You giggle. Spencer looked at you intently for a few moments before he nodded and turned his head away silently. Although it caused you to be uncertain, you brushed it off and walked out to your desk to grab your things.

As you grab your bags, you feel the small raised bulge in your pocket. You remember the caramel apple pops and smile. At least you could enjoy one of these on the way to deal with a pair of serial killers. Fun.

You pulled the sucker from the wrapper and popped it into your mouth, beginning your trek out to the jet. As you begin to walk towards the elevator, you notice a pair of hazel eyes following you. You feel a slight burning sensation on the back of your neck and your cheeks as you realized. He looked away once he noticed you were staring back.

Was he really staring, or was he just spacing out? You hoped it was the former. You were practically begging and praying for it to be. But you knew you'd never be that lucky.

As you began walking, you heard a jumble of feet behind you and the jingle of things inside a bag getting tossed around. "(Y/N!)" You heard. You widened your eyes and turned around, glad no one besides Spencer had been behind you.

"Spencer! You can't just call me by my first name right now!" You hissed.

"S-sorry, I just wanted to apologize if I sounded upset with you. I… I find it honorable that you tried to defend me. No one really does." He explained. You felt your heart melt a little.

"Spencer… I didn't think that in the slightest." You knew you were lying, but it was going to make him feel better. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. "And if that last part is true then I'll be your legendary defender. Like Voltron!" You insist, already beginning to geek out in front of your workplace crush. Way to go, (Y/N).

"Voltron? What is that? Is it like Star Trek?" He asked, beginning to walk towards the jet with you. You widen your eyes at him and gasp playfully.

"You, haven't seen Voltron Legendary Defender? Okay, when we get back you HAVE to come over and watch it with me. Afterwards we can watch some documentaries." You insist, practically bouncing on your toes. Spencer looked over you and smiled, unable to tell you no.

"Sounds like a plan."

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fic #spencer reid x you #spencer #spencer reid x reader fanfiction #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x y/n #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds fandom

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cloudsnbones · 3 years

Text

Ok so quick note, thanks to @wonderofasunrise whose blog I found these prompts on and thus which proceeded to steal. this is no. 11. :)

Excuse for being lazy: also yes this is only meant to be short so like sorry for not expanding on things at all. Perhaps I shall make up for that next time ;)

This is set in s8 around wintery times.

Please enjoy :3

“I thought I would be okay with just being friends but… All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore.”

Kerry lay quietly, her cheek resting on Susan’s chest, her eyes shut in a warm, pensive bliss – two souls in harmony.

Their illicit affair had begun as a matter of surprise to them both; after a night of heavy drinking and deep confessions they awoke the next morning sharing a bed, and what had started as a one-night stand became a regular thing after replicating the original night twice over.

Not only had their sexual relationship grown in a way that neither could have imagined, but an understanding, a friendship had also developed which had allowed themselves to trust wholeheartedly and without the fear of judgment for the first time in a very long time.

Kerry had indeed gotten accustomed to arriving home and finding Susan outside waiting for her, she had started to prepare dinners big enough for two in anticipation of an inevitable phone call asking to spend the night. Everything was falling into place. Therefore, it could never have lasted.

“I think we should end it.”

Whatever ‘it’ was. The nebulous nature of their relationship was growing all too much for Kerry, because, to tell the truth, she had fallen.

She didn’t think that there had ever been a time when she wasn’t in love with Susan Lewis, but to have been finally exposed in full to that euphoria, to live out her long-term dream, one she’d barely registered before now, was bittersweet…when she knew that Susan would never, could never requite what she felt inside.

Susan was surprised at the statement. She had never really thought about ending it, actually ending it. To be honest, since this whole thing started, she hadn’t really thought about anything at all. She knew that they were never going to be a “they”, Kerry Weaver and Susan Lewis: ER Power Couple, but she couldn’t help feel a little, disappointed at the idea of losing her? Although, she wasn’t really going to be lost, just not there in the same way. It just seemed really random, why now? Had she been planning this for a while? It was going well, she had thought, but knowing Kerry perhaps to her this wasn’t right. Anyway, best to end things whilst they’re good right? She clung to that thought in the hope that it might fill the suspicious hole she felt deep down in her chest.

The two promised to stay friends, it’s always nice to have an ally. And Susan was just fine with that, one-hundred-percent completely fine.

“23-year-old male, multiple head lacs, altered, LOC, vitals stable, BP 120/80,” announced the new EMT Danielle as she tried to shake her overgrown fringe out of her eyes.

It was just then as Susan and Kerry approached to take the trauma that the man in question lent over and wretched blood all over Danielle’s jacket causing Kerry and Susan to jump back a little before grabbing the sides of the gurney so that she could sort herself out. The man started to lose consciousness again as they raced to get him inside.

Danielle shed her jacket leaving it on the tarmac of the ambulance bay revealing a white vest and tattoo sleeves before she continued her debrief whilst following the pair to the trauma room, “Received 50 of Lidocaine at the scene, complains of dizziness and neck pain,” she continued.

As they entered the trauma room Susan finally took a look at the woman speaking and what said woman was wearing, “Nice top,” she said her eyes lingering a little bit too long.

“Thanks,” replied Danielle looking down at herself briefly before smiling to show her gratitude.

“LIFT ON 1, 2, 3!” Kerry ordered loudly cutting their little interaction short.

And as Susan lent over to start working on the man she felt Danielle put something small into her pocket whispering, “I’ll see you later.”

She stared as the woman left the trauma room only to look back around to see Kerry watching her icily.

After the man was stabilised, Kerry and Susan left the trauma room ripping their gloves and their aprons off as they did so before tossing them into the trash.

They both started in the same direction, practically colliding, Kerry extending an arm to institute a satisfactory, colleague-appropriate space between them.

“Tough trauma.”

“Yeah, I s’pose…Hey, did I tell you that Susie went to see that film they’ve all been talking about, Shrek(?) the other day, oh my god I have not heard her be so excited about something in months, and the way she talked about the donkey in it you would think that the two were going out, but alas no. Apparently, he is indeed taken by a dragon as is so often the case with actually desirable men,” she ranted enthusiastically putting on a heightened English accent to emphasise the slander.

Kerry listened quietly as she felt Susan’s words dig into her further and further, she should be happier for her, she knew that, but everything was closing in on her and she didn’t like it.

They entered the Doctor’s Lounge and as soon as the door shut behind them and it was clear to Kerry that no one else was in there, she started, “Listen, I don’t wanna make a big deal outta it but I just wanted to let you know that it’s considered a little inappropriate to get distracted by pretty EMTs when working a trauma at least from a management perspective, now as it’s never happened before obviously it’s not a problem but just so you know for any future interactions that they should be left till after you’ve finished working on the patient.”

Susan’s smile failed immediately at the mini reprimand. “Kerry it was nothing I promise.”

“Uhuh – well even if that is the case it’s still inappropriate,” Kerry said pointing her nose in the air.

Kerry’s stiffness on the subject angered Susan who huffed before retorting, “And even if it WAS something I don’t think that’s any of your business, you know Kerry Weaver, not everything is about you I realise, ok, that you’re the only person in YOUR world but that’s not the same for the rest of us,” as she raised her voice, she stepped closer and closer to Kerry refusing to break eye contact for a second.

Kerry was frozen in place, her lip quivering slightly and her eyes conveying only a hint of pain and fear behind their broken shields.

They were practically toe-to-toe, and their proximity almost immediately caused Susan to calm down as if her body was anticipating Kerry’s touch, Kerry’s smell, Kerry’s warmth.

The electricity burning Kerry’s skin as her beloved towered over her, not knowing, never knowing, what those words meant to her. Why although dealing with hurtful comments was part of the job, was always part of the job, they felt different coming from her.

But as cupid’s taunting strings gradually lured them together, the door burst open loudly causing the women to practically jump out of their skin in order to create distance between them.

It was Chuny; “Doctor Weaver there’s a guy wandering around the admit desk I think he’s your patient, Mr. Reid?”

“Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute Chuny,” Kerry replied a little too shrilly, her eyes still fixed on Susan. She stayed there for a few more seconds before finally awakening in herself the willpower to sort out the wanderer.

As the last sounds of her crutch hitting the floor faded away into the dissonant noise of the ER Chuny joked, “Did you just have it from Weaver, I bet you didn’t miss those in Phoenix!” before closing the door and leaving.

But ‘missing Weaver’ was really the only thing Susan was able to do at that moment, she turned towards the window to wipe away a tear. Then, she shook herself from head to toe, set her face back to neutrality and spun around so she could go back to work.

Kerry stood alone, her arms restless as if they were missing something, or someone, her kitchen echoing with emptiness. As she stared half-heartedly at the risotto she was making she heard a buzz followed by three rapid knocks. Kerry pulled herself out of her reverie, grabbed her crutch and headed over to the front door.

Upon opening, she saw Susan shivering in a short tan trench coat, her arms wrapped around herself, her right foot tapping the ground beneath her. When she heard the click of the latch she lifted her head and the expression Kerry saw sent a shiver through her, Susan’s eyes were wide and deep inside them there seemed to be some sort of lingering discomfort.

“Hey,” she said shyly before pulling the door to and stepping out into the cold winter’s night also, “What are you doing here?”

“Um…I’m not sure to be honest,” was the esteemed reply.

“Aren’t you cold? Do you want t-”

“Kerry there’s something I have to say and if I don’t say it now, I don’t think I ever will so.”

“Uh…ok, um, go right ahead.”

“I’m so tired, of all this of going to back to the old normal, whatever the hell that was, you know I-” she broke off, her voice cracking slightly as her emotions started to get the better of her, “I thought I would be okay with just being friends but…All I can think of when I’m around you is how badly I want to kiss you and how I can’t do that anymore. And even when you’re mad and being a bitch, I just want to hold you because then I know everything’ll be all right.” And on those final words she broke down, it could have been the cold, it could have been the pressures of moving back to a town where no one really remembered her, but in that moment, it didn’t matter what the exact cause was because her Susan was upset and it yanked at her heartstrings.

The women stood there silently, Susan looking at the floor and Kerry looking at Susan, frozen in light of the revelation, trying to calculate what best to do. When Kerry still didn’t say anything, Susan raised her head once more to look at her and being met only with an unreadable, blank expression, she felt she could take a hint.

Not wanting to stand in the scene of her rejection any longer Susan said, “Goodnight,” in a dejected, barely audible voice before turning around and heading down the steps leading up to the house. And it was this that triggered Kerry’s ability to move once more.

“Wait!” she called out, as she reached her hand out for the banister and tried to rush down the stairs, but her hurriedness and the light frost worked against her and as Susan turned around Kerry practically tumbled into her arms.

And at this intimacy, there was only one thing left for them really, because love doesn’t require logical thinking, sometimes all it needs is an impulse.

Kerry pulled herself up muttering a word of thanks before running her hand through Susan’s hair and slowly, softly bringing her down for a kiss.

And as a thousand fireworks went off in their minds, they simultaneously knew that “they” would last forever.

#kerry weaver #kerry x susan #susan lewis #er #nbc er #ficlet #drabble #kerry weaver x susan lewis #angst #fluff #aghhhh sorry again #better than nothing though right #also sorry if the medical stuff is wrong #that's not why i'm here #i don't think it's sooooo inaccurate???#also ive scheduled this for like the middle of the night where i am so yeah whatever you say i will be waking up to and will define my day #remember that #i don't want to proof read this again any mistakes that are there now remain there #my writing

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artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

You Rewrote My Ending (ABCD Friendship) - Candy Cane

A/N: so glad i finished this today!! i have two other wips im currently working on, and im so thankful for @chaoticnachokitten for beign a cheerleader and beta for this one!!! thank you!!! you can follow me at @sillylittlecandycane if you so please <3 enoy :3 Summary: After a long week, the four bffs finally get a chance to relax.

Adore has had what feels like the absolute longest week ever. She knows Courtney was struggling too, Bianca’s texts sound grumpier than usual, and Darienne hasn’t been texting enough, which basically confirms for Adore that they all need to get together asap.

The youngest of the four sends the absolutely most pathetic text she can think of to the group chat, then boom! Next thing she knows, Darienne’s inviting everyone over to her place, Courtney is making sure Bianca’s bringing rich lady alcohol, and Adore is calling in their pizza order to be delivered to Darienne’s.

As the two musicians rush around the house gathering their things before the Uber arrives, Adore remembers at the last minute to poke her head into Trixie’s bedroom so at least one of their other roommates knows where they’re going.

“Hey Trix?” Adore says before she’s even looking in, the second she does look though…

Katya and Trixie are shoulder to shoulder in the latter’s bed, laughing their asses off over something on the laptop situated on their laps. Adore doesn’t quite know what she’s seeing, it’s definitely not the first time they’ve acted like this, but it is… different.

“What’s up?” Trixie says, still coming off the high of laughter.

“Courm and I are headed to Darienne’s for the night, I dunno when we’ll be back-”

“Cool, have fun!” Trixie cuts her off a bit too quickly.

Adores glances between her roommates, deciding she’d much rather go get cuddles from her favorite shady elephant than psychoanalyze these two psychos.

“Kay, bye!” Adore grins, slinging her backpack over her shoulder to meet Courtney at the front door.

Courtney looks exhausted, even if her makeup is totally perfect, and Adore is really, really worried for her. Her shoulders are a little too slumped, her hair is just a little too messy, her voice just a little too groggy… Adore hates it. She cannot wait for their night of relaxation to start.

Luckily, she doesn’t have to wait much longer. They get the text from their Uber, rush outside and climb in, then after a bumpy, curvy, wild ride from a seemingly normal driver, the roommates tumble out of the car a little worse for wear, but fine.

Courtney is the one to knock on the door of Darienne’s townhouse that lies at the very edge of the city. Bianca is the one to open it for them, holding a large glass of wine and wearing an expression of fondness and exasperation.

“It took you long enough,” the older woman snorts, “Even the fucking pizza guy beat you two.”

“Our Uber driver was probably insane,” Courtney sighs, accepting Bianca’s hug as she walks into the familiar home.

“Yanks!” Adore shouts before practically launching herself into Bianca’s arms, pressing her face into the crook of her friend’s neck, feeling warm and safe in the embrace.

Bianca runs a hand through Adore’s tangled, dyed-red hair, “Missed you too, bitch.”

Adore throws her head back in free, happy laughter, she’s definitely missed her best friend this week, and it feels so good to be with her again. The singer looks up to see Courtney leaning against Darienne, who looks just as tired as the rest of them. Adore is kind of excited to hear about why everyone’s just had a collectively sucky week or day. Those three are hilarious when ranting while drunk, and she could really use a good time.

Adore grabs Bianca’s hand so that they can go and join Courtney and Darienne in a nice, big group hug. They all hold onto each other tight, a firm reminder that their friendship is unshakable, and that one bad week can’t hurt any one of them.

They pull apart after a few minutes, then Adore looks out into the kitchen curiously.

“So… the pizza’s already here?” she asks cheekily.

“Go get your fucking food, you needy bitch, because once you’re done I’m going after your nasty hair,” Bianca says in her typical motherly way, reaching up to ruffle Adore’s hair.

Darienne rolls her eyes, “Hey, don’t take too much of my good wine either! I’m old, I’ve lived long enough to deserve it.”

Adore laughs out a “Yes, mom!” as she heads over to the kitchen, Courtney right behind her. Despite living in the same apartment, Adore doesn’t really get to see Courtney or talk to her as much as she wishes she could. Their schedules rarely line up, and Courtney has been spending more and more time out of town over the last couple months. Adore doesn’t think she would ever be able to say it out loud, but she’s terrified Courtney is going to move out of town with how much she’s been away lately.

And that would suck for so many fucking reasons! One, she’d have to find a fourth roommate, which, gross, talking to new people. Two, Courtney would be moving out. Three, Courtney wouldn’t even be in the same fucking city anymore! Adore doesn’t know what she’d do without being able to crawl into Courtney’s bed for cuddles at four a.m., or Courtney’s way too peppy early morning attitude. It would just suck.

Head spinning with worry, Adore grabs a couple pieces of the veggie pizza, then pours herself more wine then either of her old lady friends would approve of. Courtney follows behind her, the two lean against the kitchen counter, quietly enjoying each other’s company, eating pizza and sipping on wine.

Adore smiles when she hears Bianca and Darienne’s crazy laughing, and then giggles when the two of them tease each other as they storm into the kitchen.

“You two look pathetic,” Bianca says gruffly, arms crossed over her chest as she stares at them from the other side of the counter, “Let’s go watch Real Housewives or something, I wanna make fun of ugly bitches and I’ve already said all I can about everyone in this room.”

“Fine, but if anyone stains my sofas I’m going to lose my damn mind,” Darienne says, even though she’s already taking Adore and Courtney’s hands to lead them to her couches.

“Impossible, you lost your mind ten years ago,” Bianca retorts, sitting down on the end of the couch.

Darienne doesn’t say anything, but she’s laughing along with everyone else, and it’s really, really fucking good. After everyone’s situated on the couches, Adore curls up on the floor against Bianca’s legs, her cheek resting on her friend’s knees. Bianca absent mindedly runs her fingers through Adore’s matted, messy hair while Courtney and Darienne argue over what to watch.

“Ugh, your hair’s a mess, kid,” Bianca complains, “I can hardly put my fingers through it!”

“I’m too tired to brush it though,” Adore whines.

“Well I told you earlier I’d take care of it for you,” Bianca reminds her, trying not to smile at the way the younger perks up.

“Thank you…” Adore mumbles, her face pressed tight against Bianca’s knee.

Bianca smirks, “You gotta let me up though so I can get a hairbrush.”

“Nooooooo!”

“Then I can’t fix your hair, you lazy mermaid.”

“…Courtney?” Adore asks hopefully.

“I’m not getting up,” the Aussie says, snuggling further into the soft cushions of Darienne’s couch, her cheek resting on said friend’s shoulder.

“Count me out too,” Darienne says, her tiredness from the week extra heavy in her voice.

Adore groans and rolls off of Bianca’s legs, her back resting against the couch so that Bianca can get up. Bianca pats the top of Adore’s head before she gets up, and Adore’s eyes drift to the TV, which is playing some over dramatic reality show. It’s perfect for this kind of night.

Before she even has time to miss her Willow too much, Bianca is back and tugging the younger in between her legs so that she has a good angle to take care of the rats’ nest Adore is currently calling her hair. Darienne and Bianca start a back and forth banter over the craziness happening on screen, while Courtney intermittently interjects and Adore laughs along with her friends, immensely enjoying the gentleness of Bianca’s fingers and the methodic, soothing motions of the brush.

No one is sure when, but Adore quickly starts dozing off against Bianca’s legs, and only moves when Bianca tugs her up onto the couch. Adore winds up with her head in Bianca’s lap, and her long legs sprawled across Courtney’s and Darienne’s. They tease her a little at first, loving and good natured, but are quick to give it up once they realize she really is falling asleep in B’s lap.

“Poor kid is just completely worn out,” Bianca mutters as she works on an extra difficult knot.

Darienne sighs, “Yeah, one of those weeks for us all…”

“This was the first full week I’ve been home in months. I’m really glad to be back, but I think it’s just made me realize how tired I am from travelling,” Courtney admits.

Darienne squeezes her hand sympathetically, “Don’t overwork yourself, that’s how you turn out to be a bitter old bitch like Bianca and I.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Bianca chortles, brushing Adore’s hair gently, “I was two times worse than you are, ya know, and I didn’t really have anyone around me telling me to calm down. So take the advice now, and maybe a vacation while you’re at it.”

Courtney smiles fondly at Bianca, and leans over a conked out Adore to give her a one-armed hug, “You are much more of a sweetheart than you want anyone to know.”

“You don’t gotta rub it in my face,” Bianca says with an eye roll.

“Oh no, we will be holding this over your head for the rest of time,” Darienne teases.

“You’re one to talk,” Courtney smirks, “And I’d say it’s less of a secret with you.”

Darienne feigns a scandalized expression, reaching up to grasp at her heart, “Courtney! How could you?” Courtney’s shoulders shake with laughter, causing her to accidentally jostle Adore, which in turn makes the youngest of the four groggily protest being woken.

“What the hell…?” Adore whines, her cheek squished against Bianca making her words almost unintelligible. Bianca pets through Adore’s hair to soothe her back to sleep while whispering to her, pointedly ignoring the looks from the other two ladies as she does so.

“She has you wrapped around her little finger,” Courtney says, nothing but awe and amusement in her voice.

“As long as she doesn’t figure it out I’ll be fine,” Bianca jokes, not denying it.

“From that first day at that damn club…” Darienne says, reminiscing already.

“I’m not drunk enough for this,” Bianca complains, wrinkling her nose, still detangling Adore’s hair even though it’s almost perfectly smooth now.

Courtney grins mischievously, “Remember how much you couldn’t stand me? Or Adore? I think Darienne you liked from the start, but that’s because she’s just your type of person.”

The older woman rolls her eyes fondly, “Yeah, I remember. You two were so fucking annoying, and if it hadn’t been for Darienne being the most tolerable bitch in the building I probably would’ve strangled someone.”

“That sounds about right,” Adore mumbles sleepily. The other three chuckle and Bianca brushes back Adore’s hair from her face.

“I remember hating all three of you immediately,” Darienne jokes, the others laughing along with her, “I only like people with good taste in makeup.”

Courtney gasps in faux offence, Adore sniggers into Bianca’s lap, and Bianca continues the banter, “What does it mean now that we’re your best friends?”

“That there’s still hope for you guys yet.”

Courtney nearly falls into Darienne’s lap from laughing so hard. Maybe they’re all over-doing it on the wine, but they’re having too much fun to consider slowing down. Courtney hasn’t felt so relaxed and happy in weeks, and she can’t help but to regret not calling Bianca sooner.

She sighs and curls closer into Darienne, “So what happened with you this week?”

Darienne hums boredly, “Just my boss being shitty, but what’s new? Oh, and that guy I met on Facebook turned out to be completely worthless.”

“It’s not your fault the people around you are awful,” Courtney says sympathetically, “You deserve better than anyone like them.”

“You know what? I do,” Darienne agress confidently.

“I’ll beat them up for you,” Adore offers, lifting her head up just enough to be heard.

“Now that’s a fight I’d like to see,” Bianca grins.

“I’ll send you addresses next week,” Darienne says, patting Adore’s calf, which is still sprawled across her lap.

“I love you, Darienne,” Adore sing-songs loudly.

“Bitch, stop moving so much I’m trying to fix your hair,” Bianca complains.

“I love you, too, Bia!”

Courtney rubs Adore’s back softly, “Awww, what about me?”

Adore quickly sits up, causing Bianca to grumble in surprise, and turns herself so she’s nose to nose with Courtney, “Courm, I love you so fucking much and I don’t know where I’d be without you so please, please don’t move out because I can’t function when you’re not around-”

“Whoa, whoa, slow down,” Courtney frowns, placing her hands on Adore’s shoulders to steady the younger girl, “Move out? What are you talking about?”

Adore’s eyes water, and she swallows hard, “I know you’re planning on moving out because you’re always out of town, and you’ve been getting a lot of mail from this one company, and I just… Please don’t go, Courtney.”

Courtney throws her arms around Adore’s neck and pulls her in for a tight, loving hug, “I’m not going anywhere, Adore. I promise. I’m sorry that it looks like I may be planning on moving out, but I swear I’m not.”

“Thank God,” Adore mumbles, snuggling closer to Courtney.

Bianca rolls her eyes, but they all know she really does find it sweet, “Alright, now that the mushy shit is sorted, Adore can you get your fucking knee off of my appendix?”

Adore rolls herself off the couch and onto the floor with a yelp, “I’m okay!”

Courtney giggles, “Bianca, appendixes are so old-fashioned. If you want I can recommend you a surgeon to get rid of that.”

“Of course you can, you cunt,” Bianca says, playfully slapping Courtney’s arm.

Adore looks up at her three very best friends. She wouldn’t trade them for the whole world, not ever. They’re too perfect, too perfect for someone like her, but somehow they’re still hers. So she’ll take what she can get, and accept it for what it is.

She loves them, and she knows they love her too.

#rpdr fanfiction #adore delano #courtney act #bianca del rio #darienne lake #abcd #biadore #fluff #light angst #lesbian au #cisgirl au #s6 #you rewrote my ending #candy cane #concrit welcome

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aahsokaatano · 3 years

Note

King I would love that essay about Changing Channels

Fjdjshjdhdjd thanks for reading my tags Jesse you're the real VIP here.

Okay SO "Changing Channels" is the 8th episode of the 5th season of Supernatural. I give this information bc it's important in looking at the context of the episode - now I've complained a LOT about how SPN is terrible at giving us canonical timeframes within the episodes (y'all i was SHOCKED to discover the first season is supposed to cover a little over a year's worth of time, I thought it was like... 4 or 5 months) so I can't say for sure how long before and after the other episodes happen in-universe around "Changing Channels" BUT

The episode before is "The Curious Case of Dean Winchester" where Dean and Bobby bet years of their lives in a game of poker with a witch. The episode after is "The Real Ghostbusters" where Sam and Dean end up at a fan convention for the in-universe Supernatural novels.

Why am I pointing this out? Because it's important, please, no audience participation, this is like a Brian David Gilbert panel.

[under a cut bc this got...... STUPID long. Who knew I still had this many opinions about SPN in 2020?]

Okay first of all I wanna talk about the cinnamon topography of this episode - I love the way the first 5 seasons are shot because you really feel the americana gothic horror aesthetic they were going for (I have a whole ‘nother rant about the first 5 seasons vs the last 10 but thats for another time). Everything is a little washed out and grey-toned, the camera angles generally serve to make Sam and Dean appear even taller than they actually are (larger than life - again, another post for another time), and there’s honestly a LOT of shots from the ‘monster’s’ perspective, which is really neat! I’ve said it before (on another blog - YES i have a dedicated spn rant blog, don’t @ me hdjfhfjfh) but the episode that really got me hooked on spn back in the day was the second one, about the w*ndigo. Yes, it’s a racist, culturally appropriating shitstorm, but the way its SHOT is fantastic. I’m honestly not a horror fan, but that episode could have easily relied on jumpscares and they DIDN’T and it was scary as all fucking hell and just - fuck okay getting off topic.

In “Changing Channels” we get that distinctive grey-washed tone in the beginning and the very end of the episode, but the middle? When they’re in TV Land? Everything is bright. Almost comically so, I mean - okay look at these two shots of Sam (apologies about the crappy phone pics, netflix won't let me screenshot)

This one is from the start of the episode, in the "real" police station

And this is from a little later in the "TV" hospital

Ignoring that my phone is washing him out a lot in both pics, you can still see the warmer tones in the hospital shot as compared to the cold greyness in the police station one

Okay, now look at this picture

Dean inside the Impala, and those warm tones are back. Why? Because even though Sam and Dean believe that they’re back in the “real” world, they aren’t - so instead of the grey-washed shots that we’re used to, its the bright and warm shots that we see in “TV Land”! So the viewers pick up, even if its just subconsciously, that the boys aren’t out of the woods yet - everything is still too bright to be the in-universe reality we’ve come to expect from SPN by season 5

Which is also why i love this shift so much

These shots are literally SECONDS apart. The first is in "TV Land" and the second is in the "real" world. I have some red strip lights behind my bed, which are reflecting off my laptop screen - notice how much brighter they seem in the second picture? That’s because literally all of the warm colors have been drained out of the shot. As soon as Gabriel snaps them all back into “reality,” things get so much colder.

Okay, so the second thing I want to talk about is some of the very pointed dialogue choices within the “shows” the Winchesters take part in. Not between Sam and Dan and Gabriel, but from the, for lack of a better term, NPCs within the shows.

In the hospital, Dr. Piccolo tells Sam that he is “the finest cerebrovascular neurosurgeon I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your table; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.” Standard cheesy soap opera dialogue - but lemme just swap some words here and -

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So that girl died on your hunt; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault. Sometimes people just die.”

Or even -

“You are the finest hunter I have ever met - and I have met plenty! So Jessica and Mary died above you; it wasn’t your fault. It wasn’t anybody’s fault [but Azazel’s]. Sometimes people just die.”

Keeping in mind that the NPCs are basically Gabriel’s mouthpieces, its easy to see why so many people ship Sabriel. I’d actually love to see a fic that explores them talking about this moment in particular later on and the kind of gentle forgiveness that Gabriel can give Sam... getting off topic again.

In an abrupt about-face, the herpes commercial (much meme’d within the fandom) is straight up Gabriel shaming Sam. Because if you replace “genital herpes” with “demon blood” it’s.... dark. And very intentional.

So that’s what I did! (I combined all spoken lines to make the message easier to read, rather than splitting them up across 3 speakers as in the episode)

“I’ve drank demon blood. I tried to be responsible... did I try. But now, after being forcibly detoxed, I fight my addiction every day to reduce the chances of passing back into that toxic mindset. Ask your loved ones about a demon blood intervention today. [...] I am doing all I can to slightly lessen the chance of drinking demon blood again. And that’s a good thing.”

Like... the subtext throughout this episode sure is. Something.

Okay this is getting ridiculously long so I wanna wrap up by talking about The Best Scene In The Whole Goddamn Show

I’m talking, of course, about Gabriel’s Confession

“Max,” you might be saying, “there are so many better scenes out there, even within the first five seasons!” and to that i say, again, no audience participation, please. Also, you’re WRONG and here’s why!

Gabriel’s confession hits every goddamn emotional chord that the fandom begged for on this show - fear, rage, grief, pain, guilt, and even, yes, absolution.

Okay, here’s the scene again for those of you who don’t think about it at least once a week like me

youtube

Now this video is missing some of the conversation, but most of it is there, enough for you to see what I’m talking about. Gabriel up to this point has been, essentially, a nameless antagonist - this is the third episode he appeared in, and before this, we didn’t even know he was going by Loki. He was just referred to as ‘The Trickster’. But here, not only do we get a name (a real name at that), but we also get a glimpse of his backstory and a hell of a lot of character development in less than 5 minutes. I mean, Sam didn’t get this much character development throughout the entirety of season 1! There’s a good reason Gabriel has been a fan-favorite for a very long time, and I think a big part of it is this particular scene.

Because here, we get to see Gabriel being vulnerable. And we even see Dean show a little vulnerability, as he can empathize being the third party to explosive arguments between the two people who mean everything to him.

I mean... okay, it will never see the light of day, but I wrote a little bit of a Reverse ‘Verse fic (because I’m a sucker for Reverse ‘Verse) and this was the scene I started with. Not s1e1, not even the resurrection in s4e1, but this scene. Because this scene, more than any other, is critical to the way not only Gabriel’s (first) arc plays out, but also to how Sam and Dean conduct themselves for the rest of the season (and maybe a bit beyond, it’s been a hot minute since I watched s6 and later). Dean is angry but determined, he has a point to make, he is going to save Sammy and if he can’t do that, then he’s going to damn well die trying. But Sam... it’s after this episode that we start really seeing how bone-achingly tired Sam is. It’s after this conversation - where one of the other archangels, one of the few beings who can truly understand how powerful Michael and Lucifer are - says that there’s no other way around this that Sam seems to start inching towards giving in. Saying yes.

Sure, in the actual episode, he seems outraged by the idea, practically scoffs at it - “you want us to say yes to those sons of bitches?” - but it’s after this where Sam really seems run down.

I mean, look at the episodes before and after (HAH you thought I forgot about that first point I made at the very beginning of this post! I did, briefly, but I’ve circled back to it, thanks for being understanding). In “The Curious Case of Dean Winchester,” Sam behaves much as he did since the start of s4, which is to say, ‘annoying little know-it-all brother tossed into the middle of the apocalypse and just trying his best’ and it works well for the mad scramble for any scrap of information that’s happening in s4/early s5.

But in “The Real Ghostbusters” it’s different. This is another funny meta episode - except, while Sam and Dean are technically aware of the joke, they aren’t as amused by it as the audience is. And it’s not because of the ghosts. It’s because they’re just... done. Especially Sam. Dean has that nice little moment with the cosplayers at the end of the episode, but Sam... threatens to shoot Chuck. Sam ‘goes darkside’ more often than pretty much any other character in the show, but that moment is different. It’s a flat promise, not a threat. He’s not being an asshole, like he is after losing his soul. He’s just... done. And it’s obvious to see.

Gabriel’s confession is the turning point for Sam in s5, and it informs a lot of his behavior through the rest of s5, and possibly beyond! Like I said, I haven’t watched past s5 in a very long time, so I don’t feel confident enough to analyze that specific sort of character line, but I feel confident in saying that hearing one of the most powerful beings in the universe basically say “it doesn’t matter what you do - your destiny is unavoidable” and then he’s proven right (Sam says yes to Lucifer, and Dean eventually does say yes to Michael down the line!)... like, that’s really gotta fuck up your world view that was built on free will and throwing off the shackles of fate. Sam managed to avoid his ‘destiny’ in s2... but then it turns out that that wasn’t ever his destiny. Lucifer was his destiny.

Talk about an obscured view of the inner self.

#thebisexualmandalorian #jesse #max answers #spn #naturally super #changing channels #im having some THOUGHTS yall

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sparkkeyper · 4 years

Text

Whumptober 2020 Day 17: Dirty Secret

Aziraphale is repressed as heck where Heaven and his bosses are concerned, but drunken rambles with Crowley are cathartic.

***

"Aziraphale!"

Aziraphale nearly jumped off the park bench as the archangel clapped him jovially - too hard, always too hard - on the shoulder. "Gabriel!" He had a smile pasted on his face in record time, trying to cover up the shock of his boss' sudden appearance. "What a pleasant surprise! I-I wasn't expecting to hear from you for some time yet."

"Well, looks like your lucky day." God's messenger beamed down at him - it never reached the eyes quite right, must be a defect of the corporation - keeping the principality's shoulder in an iron grip. "It's been a while since we had a good chat, so I thought I'd stop in to give you your next assignment personally."

Aziraphale's face hurt from the smile. "How thoughtful. You're, ah, you're always welcome, of course!" He gestured to the bench beside him but Gabriel remained standing - he didn't even acknowledge the motion - his eyes alighting on the book in the principality's lap.

"Aren't you done that by now? I thought you were reading that...thing...last time I popped in, half a century ago?"

"Oh, this?" Aziraphale closed the pages to show off the cover. "I-It's a new book, actually. Much different than the one I was reading before. That was fiction, this one is an educational work on--"

Gabriel grabbed the book right out of his hand and every muscle in Aziraphale's body tensed up - to keep from doing something stupid, anything stupid, stay still, and don't let him see how stupid you can be if left unchecked too long - as the archangel flipped through the pages. "'A Brief History of Time'. Why would you ever need to know this? You've lived through Time since She began it. You haven't misremembered significant events from history, have you?"

Aziraphale chuckled - too tremulous, too nervous - but Gabriel did not smile back. "No, no of course not! I remember everything perfectly, as She intended." He swallowed. "The book is an introduction to quantum physics: the current science humans have developed in an effort to understand the workings of the universe. Quite a bit of it is wrong, of course, all that silliness about the galaxy being billions of years old, but they try. And they have managed to get some of it right. They've made such a lot of progress in the past few thousands years, for such short-lived individuals it really is remarkable--"

"Why do you need to bother reading this?" Gabriel's expression was blank - not blank, condescending, judging - "You know the workings of the universe, or at least all those that we need to know. The rest She has decided to keep to Herself, and we have no need to understand."

"Of course, of course!" Aziraphale's fingers itched to grab the book but it hadn't been offered back to him yet. He straightened his bowie instead. "But I...I must know how humans think the world works, you see. In order to communicate with them properly. I can't go giving away Heavenly secrets when humans haven't figured them out yet, can I? I've got to keep abreast of what they know and don't know so I can...speak to them on their level, as it were."

"I gotcha." Gabriel tossed the open book back to him, and he fumbled to catch it without scrunching up the pages. No such luck. "They're so bafflingly simple! It must be exhausting for you, having to dumb down every conversation you have with them. Don't know how you do it."

Aziraphale dared to smooth the pages by hand exactly once in Gabriel's presence - don't care too much for material things, don't care too much for the people who make them - and smoothing them by miracle was out of the question. "I manage."

"Excellent. And you can keep managing." The archangel handed over a folded slip of paper with a golden seal. "Next assignment. We'll need you in Algeria next month. Big earthquake planned, you'll have the opportunity to do a lot of Good there."

"I'm...looking forward to it."

"I bet you are. See you at your annual review." And with a shimmer, Gabriel was gone.

Aziraphale tucked the assignment into his pocket and closed his eyes, the only outward reaction he allowed himself to show. Inside he was hollering. Inside he was sagging and baring teeth and kicking up a fuss.

Stop it.

Of course he wasn't doing any of those things because he had control of himself, and after all they were completely uncalled for. Completely. It was just a visit from Gabriel. He had no reason to react in such a way.

It took several minutes of sitting perfectly still on the bench to convince his body of that fact. It was difficult when his heart was racing and his fists were clenched but he managed. He always managed. He had to.

When he opened his eyes to return to his reading at last, he found a small scrap of paper tucked between the pages like a bookmark. It certainly hadn't been there when Gabriel handed - threw - the book back to him. Flipping over the note, he recognized Crowley's untidy scrawl.

Dinner tonight? If I don't bitch to someone about my coworkers I'm gonna explode. -C

Aziraphale did sag this time. Just reading the words was like a weight sliding off his shoulders. He tried very, very hard not to think about that fact. Or the fact that such a note had shown up right after a visit from Gabriel.

He gave himself a moment to exist - revel - in the feeling of relief, then very carefully collected himself and reached into his pocket for a pen. He scribbled a reply on the paper and with a snap, willed it back to wherever it had come from.

Be here by six and not a minute after. - A

***

Dinner was Italian, and delicious. The wine afterwards in the bookshop's back room was equally Italian and equally delicious.

Crowley sprawled across the sofa, one leg up on the back and several bottles in, and ranted about Hastur in a series of increasingly-less-eloquent turns of phrase. Aziraphale leaned heavily over the arm of his own chair, an equal number of bottles in, and agreed emphatically to the insults the demon heaped on his boss. It was relaxing to listen to Crowley ramble. If his unfortunate interactions with his lower downs seemed familiar... Well, best not to think on it. And he didn't have to think on it, not with Crowley. He could sit back and listen and add in a few scornful words against whomever had ruffled Crowley's feathers this decade.

"Not an ounce of doco...decorum between them," the demon was saying. "Not a one. Rude as...rude things. And your higher ups, bet they're just the same. How've they been lately?"

"Oh, you know," Aziraphale waved the question away, steadying himself on the chair as the motion overbalanced him. "Can't complain." It was true, he thought, and giggled a bit at his private drunken joke. He couldn't complain. No matter how much... Well. He couldn't.

"Aw, come on, I gave you all the juicy bits." Crowley hung his head backwards off the arm of the couch to regard the angel upside down. "There's got to be something ol' Gabe does that gets on your nerves. Or Michael! Real stick in the mud, that Michael. Stick in the mud and straight up the arse."

"Oh hush, you." The angel tossed a coaster at him. "They're perfectly stand-up people, as they're supposed to be. Divinely dictated and...and such." The demon, still upside down, pulled a face to let Aziraphale know exactly what he thought of that. "Although, d'you know--" Aziraphale hiccupped, "--Gabriel doesn't even know to clip the...the whatdyoucallits. The thread on the back of new coats that keep the tails closed. The ones you're supposed to clip. Just...walks around with the thread still in like...like someone who doesn't know how to clip things."

Crowley cackled, rolling upright again and contorting on the couch in a manner Aziraphale didn't know was physically possible." Bet he doesn't know to clip the thread holding the tiny pockets closed either."

"He doesn't!" the angel exclaimed with far more delight than was necessary. Something warm and petty and satisfying was settling under his ribs. Threads and pockets were good. Safe. Unsafe thoughts still hovered just beyond the edges of his mind, but he didn't have to look too closely at those when there were safe things like fashion faux-pas he could inject their venom into. "He was telling me just last month how silly humans are to make pockets that are decorar...dectora...just for show, and he used his own coat as an example! I tried to tell him, I said, I said 'Gabriel, you can cut those open you know' or at least I would have said it but I couldn't get a word in edgewise. And he still hasn't figured it out!"

"Point for me!" Crowley stabbed the air like a contestant on a game show. "I came up with those, didju know? Sewing the tiny pockets closed? And I got an archangel with it, so plus one to Hell!"

Aziraphale barked out a laugh that was too loud, too explosive, but heavens did it feel good. "Did you really? Or did you just take credit?"

"Absolutely came up with them." Crowley puffed up his chest with pride. "Annoys loads of people when they wear clothes out for the first time and go to put something in the pocket but find they don't have any scissors. I wrote a whole report on it for Hastur--" he lowered his voice to a hiss and leaned in conspiratorially. "But mostly I just think it's funny." He broke into a drunken giggle and Aziraphale followed. "Pro'lly never read the report anyway, Hastur." The demon tried to pour himself another glass and missed, missed, got it. "Tha's another thing that drives me up the wall, nobody reads the blessed reports half the time!"

The angel groaned in commiseration.

"I spend all that time putting the thing together, crossing the I's, dotting the T's--"

"You don't dot T's," Aziraphale interrupted.

"Dot my T's if I like," Crowley shot back.

"They'd look very silly."

"I'll dot your T's."

"Suppose we'd look silly together at least."

"Damn straight." Crowley paused. "What was I taking about?"

"T's," the angel supplied helpfully.

"Reports! Right, nobody reading the fu- You spend all that time on them and nobody appreciates the work!"

"Aggravating," agreed Aziraphale sourly, because of course it wasn't against any rules to repeat someone else's whinging back to them.

"Exasperating!"

"Infuriating!"

"And you know what else is infuriating?" Crowley put both feet up on the coffee table and stretched. "They had me Downstairs doing paperwork all last month and Ligur comes by while I'm trying to cross reference soul contracts and just snatches the ledger away while I'm working."

"The nerve!" Aziraphale snorted disdainfully, taking a long pull from the wine.

"I know! Had so many ways I wanted to react I couldn't choose!" Crowley gestured to him, and if Aziraphale had been a touch more sober he might have caught a glint in the demon's eye. "What would you do, angel?"

"What?"

"You. Imagine you're in Hell, doing paperwork and minding your own blessed business, making sure all the T's are dotted, and Ligur comes up out of nowhere and snatches your book away! What do you do to him?"

"I should like to snatch it right back!" Aziraphale slapped the cushion next to him. "And then give him a good whack with it! Serves him right!"

"Aye! Serves 'im right!" Crowley echoed in fierce delight, lunging forward to clang his glass against the angel's in a sloppy toast.

And when the wine wore off several hours later, Aziraphale would admit to himself that he felt so much better.

***

*The book is 'A Brief History of Time: From the Big Bang to Black Holes" by Stephen Hawking

**The 2003 earthquake in Algeria killed ~2200 people. Gabriel is an asshole.

#whumptober2020 #good omens #My writing #My fic #Aziraphale #Aziraphale is repressed af #Good omens heaven is full of assholes #Good omens Gabriel #Less whump I guess but this has been kicking around in my head lately #How does Crowley get his information we just don't know #Crowley

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writersplight · 3 years

Text

sometimes life’s a bitch and then you keep living.

Connie remembered everything about that night. It was raining, and it was late. About two in the morning. The car was stuffy, but he didn’t want to be anywhere else. His girlfriend and childhood friend, Sasha, was silent. It was weird, because she usually picked him up blasting music and having something to say. But tonight—that night—she had nothing to say to them. Usually the cliffside view was beautiful for a sunset, and they’d hold hands and laugh until they decided they were tired enough to go home. It would be hours at a time. Sometimes, they’d buy McDonald’s and rant about the world, sitting on the car hood with just each other.

“School starts up again next week,” she started, quietly, her eyes on the wheel. “Yeah. Spring break was not long enough—” “It never is for you,” she snorts, and he rolls his eyes. She was right. No matter how long the break, Connie always complained about school. It’s not totally his fault that he feels stupid in every class he has; even the one he gets B’s in. Sasha wasn’t like that in all her classes, she excelled in science and math, and even though her mind was dead by the time she got to English, she still did well. Intellectually, she was superior. He didn’t mind—he was too preoccupied celebrating her academic achievements to compare himself to her. “Yeah. I’m not a fan of—” “It’s still raining. . .” It’s weird that he never got to finish his sentence. Maybe she was afraid he’d say something to make her stay. Not that he would have. “Nothing good ever happens when it rains.” She started the car again, and Connie, who was trying to figure out why his heart was starting to sink, kept quiet. He was never quiet. He always had something to fill the silence with. He wanted to tell her about his parent’s divorce, but he couldn’t he couldn’t find the words. It wasn’t the time. As they pulled up to his lawn, the rain started to come down harder, and everything finalized in his mind. “Who is it?” he asked, quietly, finally getting his one sentence in. Sasha grips the steering wheel tightly, but she was glad he got the memo—they were breaking up. She already soft-blocked him from all her social media, but he wouldn’t know that until morning. “Niccolo,” she finally says, and he nods. He knows of him. Blonde VoTech student, succeeding in the culinary field. Of course that would win over the brunette—the way to her heart is through her stomach. He swallowed dryly. “See you at school?” he wouldn’t meet her eyes, hand on the car door. “Oh, Connie. . .” her face got dark. She wouldn’t look at him. He was standing in front of her on his lawn. He doesn’t remember moving. “No.” She drove off. Connie spent the rest of freshman year, and all of sophomore year avoiding Sasha and her boyfriend. He’s never seen her happier, and he didn’t want to interrupt that. Despite, you know, wanting to be the cause of her happiness. He heard them laughing a lot. It was torturous. He was always dizzy, and kept his hood up to prevent the bright lights from reaching his eyes. He was starting to find comfort in the darkness that once scared him. The unknown of it all really put him at ease. It did keep him up, though. Pros and cons. “Connie!” Sasha finally caught up to him, midst of junior year, grabbing his arm so he wouldn’t run. The cars were starting to pull away around them, so she pulled him to her car. He kept his eyes on the asphalt ground. “What’s going on, man? You’ve been avoiding me for so long! Marco, Jean, and I were trying to—” The world turned red, and spun. Distantly, he questioned, “What?” “Why have you been avoiding me?” “Why?” he repeated, dumbfounded. “Yeah,” she cocked her head to the side like he was confusing her. Shoving his hands in his pockets, his eyebrows furrow. “Sasha. . . You broke up with me. What do you mean?” “Yeah, but—” “You blocked me on Instagram and Snap,” he pointed out, getting angrier. His hands were starting to shake. “You started avoiding me first!” “Yeah, but. . .” “Am I an asshole for returning the favor?” “No, but I miss you.” she pouted, twiddling her fingers. That’s the last straw. “Sasha, we’re not in middle school anymore! That pout won’t work. I’m sorry you missed me, but I’m not willing to let myself hang around and wait until it’s convenient for you to feel up to being my friend again. That’s not fair to me.” She was starting to get upset, he could see that. But he’s been upset for months upon months. It’s almost been two years. “You’re so happy with Niccolo, then make friends with his friends. No need to involve me.” “But. . . You’re my best friend, Connie,” she reaches for his hand, but he yanks his arm away. “I was, wasn’t I?” he steps

back. “Well, everything must come to an end.” “Wait!” she cried out, and he found himself waiting. It angered him that he was still willing to listen to her. He turned back to her, eyebrows raised. “How. . . How did you move on?” “Move on?” he thought about, removing a hand from his pockets to fix his falling hood. “I didn’t. I probably won’t ever ‘move on’, but. . . I just take one step at a time. It’s all I can do.” “I miss your company.” Connie went silent, eyes on his beat up converse. The wind picked up. He didn’t have anything else to say. Sure, he missed his best friend, too, but it’s not like she unblocked him or truly made an effort. He shrugged, turning on his heel. There wasn’t much else he could do. He was so close to being roped back into her friend loop. He couldn’t do that to himself. He tried, at first, to make amends, but she always turned him down. Connie couldn’t keep waiting. Connie spent a lot of his high school life working. He wanted to save up for something fun to do with friends. Marco and Jean offered not many ideas, but it hit the buzzcut teen when he was trying to sleep one night—a camp out. In the woods not too far behind his house. There’s this clearing he used to use that’s perfect. He sent out a massive group text. That included: Jean, Marco, Annie, Bert, Reiner, Mikasa, Armin, Eren. . . His thumb hovered over Sasha’s contact. He frowned. He skipped over her, and sent the text. Despite it being one in the morning, everyone seemed on board. They spent the next hour finding a date. They decided upon July 12th, where they all had time to call out and arrange accordingly. That date. . . In fifth grade, that’s when Connie asked Sasha out. They dated until freshman year. It was wild how the universe works. He agreed upon the date and marked it in his calendar. After graduation, he continued working. He still had a few months before he was going away to college, and he still had the whole camp out to put together. He found himself hanging around Annie and Mikasa a lot. He didn’t expect them to be so hands on with the project, or into it at all—considering how they tended to not be huge talkers—but they were. It didn’t make sense to him, but he had fun organizing it with them. It all came to him at the end of the night, after grilling hot dogs and hamburgers for dinner. He was sitting in a lawn chair, staring at the stars by himself, with this big dopey smile on his face. His hand was around his soda bottle. Annie and Mikasa pulled chairs up to sit with him. “You seem happier than you’ve been in years,” Annie points out, handing him a bottle of root beer. He opens it for her, nodding along to what she said. “Yeah. I am.” “Does this mean you’re over Sasha?” Mikasa sends a glare to the blonde, and Connie finds himself laughing. It was funny how people still treated it like a sore subject. “No. Yes? I’m able to talk about it, but it still hurts. It’s everything and nothing at all.” He adjusts himself in his chair. He bought a tent big enough for them all to lay in, and he managed to be assigned to the very girls sitting next to him. However, he was focused on the stars. “I’m glad you’re feeling better,” Mikasa settles on, not being too good with words. That’s something Annie and her shared—their difference was Mikasa had a heavy filter, where Annie’s filter was non-existent. She thought about her words heavily. “Me too. It’s good to be hanging out with my friends again. I’m sorry for, you know, being shitty. I didn’t mean it.” “It was a tough breakup. Don’t worry about those it doesn’t concern.” Annie advised, taking a swig of her soda. “It does concern you guys, because you’re my friends and I wasn’t there for you. That’s how I see it, and I’m sorry. But, yes, it was tough. I tried to ignore it but. . . Well, there are some things you can’t avoid in life. I had to deal with it.” Connie explained, looking into his soda bottle. He’s glad he found his way out. He just got so tired being sad that he had a breakthrough. Some aren’t as lucky, but he was never the

forever-brooding type. He was much more comfortable as the clown of the group. “And you’re better now for it,” Mikasa says softly, turning to him. She placed a hand over his, and Annie took his other hand. His face grew hot, but they all looked at the stars. There was comfortable silence between them. Slowly, Connie intertwined their hands together. In the distance, Jean and Eren could be heard bickering about trees. Weird topic for them, but it was normal. “We both like you, Connie,” Annie finally said, “and we’d like to figure out what that means.” His smile grew, finally tearing his eyes away from the stars. He looked between them, and found that they weren’t joking with him. He’d never think he’d go from dating, to sadly single, to being fine with being single, to possibly having two girlfriends. Life was crazy in that way. “Okay,” he said, turning his direction to the stars. It got quiet again, but the conversation started back up when Connie mentioned he didn’t know how to piece together constellations—or something along those lines—but Annie did. She spent the hour before bed teaching them about how to find north, and some constellations that she could find. Mikasa, on the other hand, had a handful of knowledge about astrology, and told her lovers all about it as they turned in for the night. Connie was set in the middle, with his arms around both of them. When college came around, it turns out that Annie was going up north. Mikasa and Connie were also going up north, but for a different college. They decided to buy a two bedroom apartment together and to just commute. It was weird to live with two girls prone to bickering, but Connie was always able to compromise. On top of that, they all were pretty good at communication between each other. When Mikasa was feeling left out, she sent a text explaining herself the best she could, and her two lovers always figured out a way to make it up to her. Same with Annie. The blonde and black haired girls were always able to communication to Connie how they were feeling, and they genuinely listened to Connie when he spoke—especially if he cracked some stupid joke; they love his shitty humor. They loved him. He, of course, loved his two strong girlfriends, and never felt emasculated—he enjoyed watching them outlift in the gym, and was very encouraging. He’s grateful for them, and couldn’t ask for better girlfriends.

#aot #connie springer #ex springles #sasha braus #eren jaeger #mikasa ackerman #armin arlert #annie leonhardt #ending polyamory #might be occ bc it was early when i wrote this #snk #annie/connie/mikasa #mikonnie #springhardt #attack on titan #cw: long post #cw: disney-style dramatics #my works.mp3

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