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machetegirl109 · 10 months

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Synopsis: After spending the whole Bible study daydreaming of Abby, she finally makes your fantasies come true. *inspiration: vacation bible school by ayesha erotica*

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, F/F, modern!AU, suggestive and offensive language, religion, abby&reader are 18, smut, angst, switch!abby&reader, dom!abby, sub!reader, thigh riding, fingering(r&a!receiving), oral(a!receiving), no aftercare, mean!abby x reader

important info about my stories here

©machetegirl109 (credits to VBS by ayesha erotica that inspired me to write this) DO NOT copy/steal my work OR post it on any platforms

Word Count: 2.6k+

Oneshot: Vacation Bible School

❝︎and like every other shitty love story

you came and went❞︎

Church camp happens every year during the summer. It lasts for a week; during this time, you live together in cabins, explore the outdoors, and dine in community, all while learning about religion.

You’ve been taking part in attending ever since you were a little kid. The campgrounds are filled with kids, teens, and young adults. The VBS director would be supervising the assisting staff that consisted of other members of the Christian church, where they were divided into group leaders, an audio/video coordinator, music director, Bible story tellers, game leaders, craft supervisors, and kitchen staff.

This year would be the last summer camp trip for you and the other 18 year-olds before you all start college.

Every year you’d be eager for the summertime, wanting nothing more than to arrive at the huge campsite with lots of green space, bushes and trees, picnic tables and a bonfire. Paths that led to the big main cabin where indoor activities and supper were held, another that led to multiple smaller cabins scattered around a secluded area with some portable wooden toilets by the end of the trail and finally a path that led to the forest where a beautiful river was at as well as a hiking trail.

Although you did enjoy being surrounded by the calming nature and your fellow church peers, what made you anxiously wait for the one week vacation every year was her. Abby Anderson. You two met years ago when you were kids, having to spend the days around each other as you two learned about Jesus and his rules. You and the blonde girl quickly became friends; however you never spoke to each other outside the camping grounds. In day-to-day life, you would only admire her from a distance. Whether it was on the Sunday evening services, or at the school; you paid attention to Abby’s movement as she kneeled to pray, or when she talked to those around her.

Something about her made your hands shake with nervousness, your heart skipped beats just by the thought of her so, so pretty eyes and her strong arms—

“What do you say, miss Y/N?” The pastor interrupts your thoughts and you move your eyes from Abby who’s sitting in front of you to his direction.

“I’m sorry, pastor. What was the question again?”

“What is the message in Ephesians 5:3?” He asks again and your peers, who are seated in a chair circle as the pastor stands in the middle, turn their heads towards you as they all wait for an answer.

“Uh, I… I don’t know…I’m sorry.” You shamefully look at your hands down on lap.

“That is okay, Y/N. We are all here to learn, isn't that right kids?” They all move their heads up and down, agreeing with the pastor. “Can anyone tell me what is the message in Ephesians 5:3?”

“I can.” One of the students complied.

“Yes, Abigail. Go ahead.” As soon as he calls out her name, your head shots up and you’re looking at the girl in front of you again. She clears her throat and before she begins to speak, her eyes meet yours.

“But fornication, and all uncleanness, or covetousness, let it not be onced named among you, as becometh saints;” Abby concludes, her blue eyes never leaving yours. Soon, the priest thanks her for the answer, proceeding with his class and the blonde gives you a small smile. She manspreads on her chair and you feel the blood pump faster into your veins as your body grows hot.

Abby is wearing a white tank top that exposes her strong muscles, black skinny jeans with a heavy-looking belt as well as a pair of black chuck taylor’s. You can’t help but wonder how she would look on top of you, with her blonde hair forming a curtain around your head and her big hands roaming through your body.

After spending the rest of the Bible study distracted staring at the pretty blonde across from you, the class comes to an end. “Alright,kids, that will be all for today. Go ahead and enjoy your last day here and make sure to be ready to attend the bonfire tonight!” The priest leaves the open room located inside the main cabin and soon the students follow behind. Each leaving at their own pace as they conversate with their friends. You look around you and notice Abby is still seated in her chair, like you. She smirks before standing up, making her way to you.

“You seemed a bit distracted. Anything interesting in your mind?” Abby reaches her hand out for you to hold as you leave your chair.

“Oh, nothing, it’s stupid. “ You smile shyly and hold onto her, who soon drops your hand after helping you up. She hums in response as she licks her lips and points her head towards the door, hinting you to follow her as she begins to walk.

“Well, now I need to know what stupid thing you were possibly thinking about while you stared at me the whole study.” You hide your face in your palms, cringing at how you shamelessly looked at her during the class.

“Sorry…” You muffle through your hands before dropping them to your sides again. “I didn’t mean to stare.” Abby lets out a small laugh at your reaction, loving the way you get so shy around her. You two keep walking until you reach the path that led to the area where many small cabins were scattered around.

“It’s fine, I don’t mind.” She quickly scans the area around, checking to see if anyone can see or hear the two of you. “I think I already know what you were thinking about, though.” Her eyes drop to your plump lips and your throat goes dry.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” You play dumb and Abby chuckles.

“Hm. I think we were both thinking about the same stupid things.” She raises her hand to your cheek, lightly massaging the pad of her thumb onto your soft skin and then pushing it down to your bottom lip. You feel as if your heart dropped to your core as heat and pulse grows inside your panties. Her hand teasingly grips your neck before she drops it and takes one of your hands into hers, guiding two walk towards the portable wood toilets by the end of the trail.

She looks around once again, checking for people and opens the door as she rushly gets in, pulling you with her and shutting the door closed. Your back presses into the wood as one of her hands pushes you against the wall by the neck. Abby’s blue eyes turned a shade darker, desired in them as she placed her knee between your legs, earning a small moan from you.

“You’ve been watching me the whole week,” She says as her free hand creeps under the hem of your shirt, fingers lightly tingling the skin of your stomach. “But I’ve been watching you too.” She palms your left breast harshly, flicking her calloused finger on your nipple and you feel yourself getting wetter by the second. “You know the expression you make when you stare at me?”

You stay silent and her grip around your neck tightens.

“When I ask something, you answer.” Abby says softly and removes her hand from your chest, sliding it down to the side of your hips, carving her short nails into your skin as she moves you to grind against her hard thigh; making you bite your lips as you feel your clothed cunt rub deliciously against the material of her jeans. “Answer me, Y/N.”

“I-I don’t know, Abby…”

“You stare at me with this really pathetic expression on your face,” The lights inside the small compartment die down suddenly before turning back on – And as you look at Abby again, a shit-eating grin appear on her pretty lips.

“The expression of someone who just really wants me to fuck them stupid.” You snake your arms around her neck and she lets go of yours, now hugging your waist as she guides your movements. “Do you want me to fuck you stupid?” Abby whispers in your ear with a rough voice.

“Yes-Yes, Abby. Ple-please.” You ask as you hide your face onto her neck, her pinewood scent filling your nostrils and you moan into her skin. Your hot breath hits against her neck and Abby feels your arousal mark a spot on her pants. A soft blush runs over her soft freckled face and her boxers start to feel heavy by her own wetness.

“Please what, angel?”

“Ple-please fuck me, Abby.” You remove your head from its previous position and forcefully grabs the back of her hair, pulling her face towards yours as your lips smack together. Abby bites and pulls onto your bottom lip and soon her tongue sneaks into your mouth, making the kiss become more heated and sloppy. She hugs your waist tighter. “I want you,” You say in between the kisses. “Jus-just fuck me already, ple-please.”

Abby lets out a moan by hearing your pleas and holds your hips still as she lower her lips to your neck. She nibbles and licks at your skin and you let out heavy breaths and pleasure filled moans. She moves one of her hands to your exposed thigh due your skirt riding up, and she slowly slides it closer and closer to your heat as she caresses your hot skin. Soon enough she cups your pussy through your dripping wet panties, the feeling of her warm hand sends a wave of electricity through your body and you moan her name out.

“I've been wanting to do this all week,” Abby confesses. She slowly drags your panties to the side and runs two fingers up your slick, collecting the liquid of your excitement. “Fuck… You’re so fucking wet for me. So ready for me, baby.” She gives you a quick and soft peck on the lips and suddenly thrusts her ring and middle finger inside your weeping cunt.

“Ah ah ah Abby!” You moan as you feel her fingers filling you. Abby begins to move her fingers in-and-out of you, starting off slow and soon she picks up the pace, pumping them fast and with precision inside you. You rock your hips, following her fingers' pace, causing your clit to deliciously and harshly rub against the palm of her hand. “Fuck Abby,,, you're–ahh fucking me so good…”

Abby lets out a quiet laugh and leans in for another messy kiss, saliva dripping off of both your chins as you make out. She soon fingers into you deeper than before, the tip of her fingers meeting that spongy spot inside you. She presses onto it and you rub your clit harder into her palm. You break the kiss, lips swollen for the biting and sucking.

“I'm gon-gonna cum,”

“I'm here, angel. Cum for me, baby.” Soon something inside you snaps and you feel your body shake as a pleasure washes over you.

“Such a good fucking girl, making a mess all over my hand.” Abby helps you ride out your high, her hand and leg drenched from you as she carefully removes her fingers from your sensitive cunt, letting out a hiccup once you feel empty again. You attempt to catch your breath, chest rising up and down rapidly as you both look at eachother. You hold her hand towards your mouth, cleaning her sticky fingers from your orgasm and she opens a small smile.

“You're so hot,” Abby says giving you one more kiss before removing her leg from in between yours.”So fuckin’ dirty for me.” You kiss her back, pulling at her bottom lip and asking for tongue passage which she happily obliged to. Pushing Abby against the wall, your hands fall to her hips, undoing her white studded belt and letting it fall to the ground. “You're gonna make me feel good, Angel?” She smirks upon seeing a naughty look on your face and you nod.

“Yeah, Abby, I'll make you feel so good…” You kiss her lips and neck one last time before you move towards her breasts and stomach. When you reach her crotch, you shamelessly rub your face against it, causing her to gasp and moan as she forces you onto the floor by your shoulders.

Abby helps you unbutton her pants and you bring them down along with her boxers as you kneel in front of her, the smell of her pussy makes your mouth water. She frees one of her ankles from the clothes, propping her leg over your shoulder and you snake your arm around her tight to keep her secure. She looks down at you, looking like a pretty and desperate little slut just for her. One of her hands goes to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to her glistening lips. You lay your tongue out and you slowly lick her slick bottom to top, reaching her throbbing bud and giving it a harsh suck.

“Uhmm, fuck,” She moans upon the contact, pushing her hips closer to you mouth. “Yeah, just like that, baby.” You finally bury your tongue into her cunt, exploring her as she lets out a string of breathless moans. Abby begins to grind against your face, your soft muscle lapping on her mouthwatering pussy and your nose softly and deliciously brushing against her clit. “Look at me,” She pats your head and you bring your eyes up to her but never stopping fucking your tongue into her. “Lookin’ so beautiful on your knees for me, ahh– s-so so fucking perfect,”

Abby soon feels the tension that sits on the bottom of her stomach is about to explode. Her moves become more messy and rapid as she chases your face. The leg that is up your shoulder starts to shake, the trembling of her body making her to hold onto your free shoulder for support. You notice Abby will soon break and change the focus of your thrust to her needy button, lick and circling your tongue on it and adding two fingers into her.

“D-don't stop, fuckfuckfuc–” Her hips stutter as you scissor your fingers into her, never stopping giving attention to her clit. You feel her pussy gushing around you and she soon releases her juices, making a mess on your hand and face. Abby breaks eye contact as she presses the back of her head onto the wooden wall. She closes her eyes and furrows her brows while coming down from her orgasm. You distance your mouth from her now sensitive clit and gently remove your fingers from her. She drops her leg off of your shoulder and you, still on your knees, move to help her fix her pants and belt.

“No, it’s okay,” Abby moves away from your touch, making you slowly stand back on your feet. “I can do it.” She pushes her black jeans back up and grabs her belt off the floor, quickly wrapping them around the waistband of her jeans. You quietly observe her, hopeful thoughts run around your head, thoughts about you and Abby becoming closer after today – The last day of camp. “So, uhh,” She nervously runs her hand through her blonde strands as her face displays a shameful and regretful expression.

“We should get going, th-the last bonfire will start soon…” You feel as if the ground disappeared, your heart squeezes inside your chest and tears form in your eyes. “Uhm… I'll see you around, yeah?” She quickly exits, leaving you alone in the compartment. You look down at your knees, red and swollen from all the kneeling, and then you look around the small porta wooden potty, your hand palms your face as you take in what just happened. Regret fills you for what you and Abby just did – In a damn porta potty, at church camp nonetheless – and at how easy you gave yourself to her, only to be tossed away just as easily.

ೃ⁀➷ thank you for reading! feel free to comment your thoughts, reblog, leave a heart and follow me˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

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#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #abby anderson x y/n #abby x y/n #abby anderson smut #abby tlou smut #vacation bible school abby anderson #©machetegirl109

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v1nsmoke · 7 months

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𝑮𝑼𝑵𝑺 𝑵' 𝑹𝑶𝑺𝑬𝑺 // 𝑪𝑼𝑳𝑻 𝑳𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹!𝑳𝑨𝑾 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

spooktober week 1 - law as a cult leader in honour of oct 6th being his bday

tw: guns, hints about sb getting kidnapped

summary: in search of your missing sister, you head to a town in the middle of nowhere, where all clues lead to a mysterious man.

a/n: ITS HIS BDAY!!! i wasnt planning on making this, just came up w/ it this morning lol. But i really wanted to make something for his birthday, so take this! Inspired by the game Far Cry 5, i recommend it! im tired rn so i didnt reread this. I will check it later tho ♡ CHECK OUT PART 2!

wc: 1.1k

song rec: (aka a song that matches the story)

You take a deep sigh. The road here was everything but smooth, you were sure that nobody tried to fix it ever since they built it, not to mention that you travelled on it trough hours. It took you almost two days to get here, but it still wasn't the time for you to rest.

You have been stressing ever since you received the suspicous call from your sister who dissapeared without a trace the day right after it. Nobody could reach her, they also had no idea where she went. The last time you heard about her was when you called her a few days ago, but she said goodbye after telling you that she will be going to attend a sermon by a man that came to town that day. No word from her ever since.

So, you decided to pay her a visit yourself. Best if you check on your sister before something happens to her. And now here you are, sitting in your parked car in a slightly dried out field on the side of the road, the town just slightly further. There was white tarpaulin tent set up there, and people were slowly drifting towards it. it will probably be the same sermon that your sister went to the last time you talked to her. This was your last option in getting close to her. You went to her house some hours ago, but nobody was home. You waited to see if she was just out shopping, but time passed and she still didn't come home. The neighbours said that she left to check out the man who came to town saying that he is here to help the people, and never returned.

There was only one solution left: find the last person who saw her. If it was really the same thing, you might get close to finding out something about your sister's whereabouts. Her neighbours told you when this man will show his face again, so you thanked them, got in your car, and drove out to the location. Looks like they weren't lying, because the people slowly flocked to the tent while you sat in the comfy seat of your car.

You take a deep breath, mentally preparing yourself for whatever might occur. You open the car's door, stepping foot on the dry, yellowish grass. You stay close to a group heading towards the tent, hoping that you could blend in. To you, this all just started to look like a cult. The group enters the tent, you follow behind them. Inside were benches, all of them facing a low podium, a black haired man standing on it. He seemed confident in whatever he was preaching, but you weren't focused on him.

Though, he did catch your eye for a moment. And it looked like the same thing happened to him, his eyes scanning the crowd but stopping once his gaze lands on you. Those greyish blue orbs staring at you, his mouth still moving as the rest of the people watch him. He manages to turn away, looking everywhere but you after this. You stand still, looking trough the people present, hoping to find your sister here. Nobody matched her appearance, she wasn't here.

Your only chance left at finding her was the mysterious man, now leaving the stage that the sermon was over. The people flock away, leaving one by one. Almost everybody left now, and this was your chance. You see as he leaves the tent, some men with machine guns by his side, heading towards the car.

"Excuse me!" You shout after him, hoping he'll hear you. The man and his bodyguards (or whoever those armed men were) all stopped, turning their attention towards you, some even raising their weapons. You raise both your hand in defense, proving you are not a threat to them. Of course you weren't, you had no weapons and barely any knowledge about hand-to-hand combat.

The black haired motions for them with his tattooed hands to lower the weapons, and the men obey.

"I'm listening." He says after a short pause. The men and him stared at you, all creating an uneasy feeling inside you. The guns, slightly torn sweaters with the same symbol sewn into it, everything. And now you were totally alone with them, nobody would know if you just got shot on the spot. Not to mention that if anybody started looking for you like you looked for your sister, they might end up just like you.

"I'm looking for my sister. The last time I heard from her was just an hour before she attended your sermon a few days ago." You step closer to them, holding out your hand with a photograph in it. On the photo was your sister, it was taken before she left the country to live here, in this town in the middle of nowhere, far from you.

"Familiar face. I know her." He says in his deep voice, a very light, barely noticable appearing on his face as he speaks. Seeing this, you actually consider twice if you should follow him or try finding your sister on your own. But now you were so close to finding out something about her, because this man clearly knew a thing or two.

"Could you... perhaps tell me where she is, maybe lead me to her if you can?" You ask, trying to sound as polite as possible, though you were shaking inside.

"Oh, don't worry." He chimes. "You'll meet her soon enough." His tone shifts, sounding darker, lower, more menacing.

"Wait, wha- who are yo-" you try to question him, but you are hit in the back of your head with the back of a machine gun by one of his men.

You hit the dry grass with a thud, the boots of the guard on your back, holding you down, pointing the barrel of his gun at you. It's like you can feel the world spinning as you lay on your stomach, the grass tickling your face. It takes all your will and strength to keep your eyes open.

"It's Law. Trafalgar Law." He looks down on you, standing in front of your body.

You would love to ask him more questions, to fight back, but after receiving another hit just like the one you got some seconds ago, you can't keep your eyes open, blacking out.

trafalgar law belongs to eiichiro oda, i do not own him.

#one piece #v1nsmoke #eiichiro oda #trafalgar d water law #trafalgar law #law one piece #trafalgar law x reader #fc5 #cult leader!law x reader #op #one piece law #spooktober #halloween #october #Spotify

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liaromancewriter · 6 months

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The Haunting of Edenbrook

Premise: It’s All Hallow’s Eve, and something wicked lingers in the air of Edenbrook Hospital’s hallowed halls.

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine); feat. Bryce Lahela, Jackie Varma Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff Words: 1,400

A/N: Submission for @choicesprompts Flufftober prompt "Embarrassing Secret Revealed" and @choicesholidays Halloween. I'm also using @choicesflashfics week 56, prompt 3.

The October sky raged, dark and churning, echoing the turmoil of a sea in a tempest. Every once in a while, the skies erupted, and a brilliant streak of lightning would illuminate the city. It was a night made for things that went bump in the night.

Witches and ghosts roamed free in the dark shadows, floating above the cobblestone streets of Boston that glistened in the pale. As the clock neared midnight, church bells tolled in eerie harmony, their rhythmic clanging calling all the lost souls home.

Thunder rattled the windows of Edenbrook Hospital’s cafeteria, and a fleeting glow of a lightning bolt forked across the horizon. For a split second, Cassie Valentine thought she saw something streak across the black sky, but she blinked, and it was gone.

She glanced warily at the storm raging outside and wondered if the Emergency Department would be calling for reinforcements. She hoped people had the good sense to stay inside on a night like this.

But it was Halloween, and Boston was a college town. College students weren’t exactly known for playing it safe, she thought with a heavy sigh.

The overhead lights in the cafeteria flickered, and she hoped the hospital wouldn’t lose power.

“You know hospitals have backup generators, right?” Jackie Varma mocked, and Cassie realized she’d spoken the words out loud. “Why so antsy, Valentine?”

She ignored her roommate’s jibe and looked away from the stormy scene outside. “I hate working nights.”

“Welcome to the intern life,” Bryce Lahela called out. He plopped down on the seat across from her and handed her a pudding cup. “Scared of the dark?”

The surgical intern was part of her friend group, so she didn’t mind his glib attitude, just like she was getting used to Jackie’s occasional surliness and cutting remarks.

“Of course not,” Cassie huffed, but Bryce smirked, clearly not believing her.

In the dim light, Bryce leaned in and whispered, “Haven’t you heard? Once upon a time, in between the world wars, Edenbrook used to be a mental hospital. They housed the most dangerous patients on the tenth floor, where the path lab is now.”

He slowly licked his spoon. “They say it’s haunted. Years ago, on a night much like this one, with a storm raging across the harbor, a fire broke out. In their hurry to escape the raging flames, the staff forget about those locked in padded cells above.”

Bryce paused dramatically, his gaze turning inward as he stared at the darkness beyond. Jackie snickered, but Cassie felt dread rising at what was to come.

“The legend goes that nurses hear phantom footsteps in the hallways and icy chills grip rooms,” his voice dropped further, and Cassie leaned forward, her forehead almost touching his. “On All Hallow’s Eve, at midnight, you can hear their sorrowful wails echoing, searching endlessly for a way out.”

Thunder clapped outside, and Cassie jumped in her seat, a shriek escaping her lips. Bryce burst into laughter.

“You should’ve seen your face, Valentine,” Jackie chuckled, giving Bryce a high-five. “Who knew you were such a scaredy cat?”

Sick of being made fun of, Cassie grabbed her tray, pushed back her chair and stalked off, Bryce and Jackie’s laughter echoing behind her.

She started for the staircase, but the creepy feeling from Bryce’s ghostly tale still lingered, and she detoured instead toward the elevator bank. The hallways were quiet this time of night, and she hunched her shoulders as she waited.

Sensing something behind her, she glanced over her shoulder, only to relax when it was clear. But the feeling lingered, and she quickly jumped inside when the doors slid open.

“Dammit!” She noticed the elevator was heading up instead of down. “Great,” she muttered, watching the numbers change as she leaned against the cold, steel wall.

When the elevator slowed its ascent after the ninth floor, her dread returned.

“Please don’t stop at ten. Please don’t stop ten,” Cassie prayed, even as the car stopped and the doors slid open, inch by slow inch.

Cassie almost screamed at the sight of a tall figure standing in the shadowed hallway. And then he stepped forward into the light, and she slumped in relief.

“H-hi, Dr. Ramsey,” she said, her voice strangled by the thought of phantoms roaming the dim hallways stretching behind him.

No wonder Dr. Wen, the chief of pathology, was always jumpy. She would be, too, if she had to work on this floor every day.

Ethan Ramsey nodded in acknowledgment but didn’t step into the elevator. Instead, he quirked one eyebrow. “In or out, Valentine? I haven’t got all night.”

Cassie realized he was waiting for her to exit. “I’m not getting off,” she said, “I got on the wrong elevator by accident.”

He mumbled something about interns under his breath and crossed the threshold before the doors slid shut. Pressing the button for his floor, he looked back expectantly at her.

“Four,” she sputtered, gripping the railing behind her.

Cassie didn’t realize she’d been holding her breath until the doors slammed shut.

“How come you’re here so late?” she asked as the elevator began its descent.

“Gee, Valentine, I had no idea I reported to you now,” he said, sarcasm dripping from each word.

That shut her up, and she went back to staring at the numbers above the door.

Ethan’s cologne filled her senses. The subtle scent reminded her of summer nights after a rainstorm washed the world clean. Her heart pounded loudly in her ears, and she felt a spark of electricity crackle in the air. It was always thus when he was near.

She wondered if she’d ever get over this ridiculous crush. She was competing for a spot on his team, and whatever this…thing was between them couldn’t go anywhere.

There was no denying Ethan Ramsey had sex appeal oozing from his pores. She was likely just horny, Cassie reasoned. Maybe she should give the dating apps another try. If she scratched that itch, she could stop fantasizing about the man who held the fate of her career in his beautiful, long-fingered hands.

Cassie felt his gaze upon her and slid her eyes sideways. There was something indescribable in his blue eyes as he watched her. Her brows furrowed as she tried to decipher it, but his face became inscrutable when he caught her spying.

“You seem jumpier than usual,” he commented as an uncomfortable silence stretched between them.

“I’m just not a fan of that floor,” Cassie mumbled.

“And?” he prompted when she didn’t say anything more.

“I guess I hadn’t heard about Edenbrook’s past before, and it spooked me,” she shrugged.

“What on earth are you talking about, Rookie?” Ethan said, brows beetling in confusion.

“You know, the fire when the hospital was a mental asylum, the patients that died,” Cassie explained. “On the tenth floor?”

Ethan stared at her as if she’d grown two horns, and then his face cleared. His laughter boomed in the air, and Cassie realized it was very much at her expense.

“And when exactly did this gruesome incident occur?” he asked as the elevator stopped at his floor.

“Bryce said it was sometime in the nineteen thirties,” Cassie said, wondering why Ethan didn’t know this.

“Edenbrook was founded in the late nineteen sixties as a teaching hospital, and only a teaching hospital,” Ethan emphasized the latter. He stepped off the elevator and turned to face her. “In case you missed the plaque hanging on a wall in the atrium.”

“Oh,” Cassie said, embarrassed beyond belief. Now that he mentioned it, she had seen the sign in her first week and even remarked on it with Sienna and Elijah.

“I’m afraid I may have made a mistake with you,” Ethan drawled, deceptively calm, placing his hands on the sensors to stop the doors from closing. “Gullible residents have no place on my team.”

“I’m sorry, Dr. Ramsey,” Cassie muttered, a flush spreading up her neck. “I’ll do better.”

“See that you do, Dr. Valentine,” Ethan shook his head in exasperation and released the doors.

The last thing Cassie saw before the elevator doors closed was Ethan chuckling as he walked away. She inhaled deeply, her nostrils flaring as his lingering scent filled her senses, and she sighed wistfully.

Crushing on Ethan Ramsey was a recipe for disaster. The man was trouble with a capital T.

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All Fics & Edits: @bluebelle08 @coffeeheartaddict2 @crazy-loca-blog @genevievemd @headoverheelsforramsey @lucy-268 @jamespotterthefirst @jerzwriter @lady-calypso @mainstreetreader @peonierose @potionsprefect @queencarb @quixoticdreamer16 @rookiemartin @socalwriterbee @tessa-liam @trappedinfanfiction

Submissions: @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

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#open heart #open heart choices #ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #open heart fanfics #open heart fanfiction #choices fanfics #choices fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #cfwc fics of the week #ethan ramsey x cassie valentine #choices open heart

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kit-williams · 3 months

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Note: Barn Anon. I'm very new to this whole thing but it's gotten me all tangled up in a mess about it. This has been running through my head while I was at work. Im also stupid shy. I can't remember anything regarding life-spans but a part of me likes to imagine they're the equivalent of your dad finding an abandoned a tortoise as a kid that has since outlived him and is now going to outlive you too.

He's been around long before you were born. He had suddenly appeared with no hint of where he could've come from. Your great-grand parents had a heart attack when their daughter didn't come home at the usual time, only to find her playing with the lumbering giant metal-armoured being. your grandmother had named the giant Castle for his size. If he had a proper name, he never gave it.

There are pictures, black and white ones, of your grandmother growing up. in most of them, Castle was always somewhere in the background or even right beside her. then soon it would have less images of your grandmother with Castle and instead have your father and his siblings with Castle. then black and white pictures would change to coloured ones featuring you and your cousins, all with Castle.

It is odd. You flip through the old photo albums, nothing how Castle has gained scrapes on his armour over the years. yet apart from those cosmetic changes, he seems otherwise unchanged. Your father too had spoken of how Castle's strength and stamina never weakened over the years.

You had learned, when you left the small town and entered the big city, that Castle is a Space Marine. Though you are a little confused, most seem to state that Space Marines are typically social beings and prefer to be in groups. Why is Castle alone? Why seek out an ordinary human family for company instead of his own kind? Or maybe it was because he was alone that he decided to latch onto your grandmother all those years ago?

You hear the loud heavy footsteps on wooden floor and put the photo album back on the shelf. You had taken time off work to return to your small quiet hometown to tidy up your grandmother's house. Your grandmother had passed on a few weeks ago and according to her neighbours, Castle had been the one by her side till the end. You look out the window to see Castle. He is just as you remembered him all those years ago. Tall, mighty, silent and ever vigilant. He has been rather withdrawn ever since your grandmother passed, but as you watch your own daughter run up to the gentle giant, you feel the flicker of warmth and hope when he couches down to her level.

He comes and goes as he wishes, for days, weeks and once even months. However he always came back and maybe, just maybe, if you moved into your grandmother's house with your gaggle of kids... maybe he'll decide to stay. Noone in your family truly understands him, but he has always been a part of your family.

Fuckin hell Barn anon hardly anything I can add onto this

"Dinner!" You shout out into the gloom watching and looking around before you finally whistle out in the way your grandmother had taught you to call Castle. He could speak but Grandmother said that it took him awhile to learn English as what he spoke was like church Latin but nothing sounded like words you knew. She and Castle had made a language out of whistles and their own words. You soon hear your gaggle of kids as they are carried by Castle trudging out of the tree line at the edge of the property.

You remember the day you sat down with Castle and told him how you were going to move in. Out of all of her grandchildren it seems you were the only one Castle tolerated and well you were close enough to him always happy to see him. You told him that you were moving back into grandmother's home as it was left to your father and he in turn gave it to you.

He was allowed to come and go however he pleased as you knew he was always your grandmothers.

"Say Castle kids!" You say pulling out the polaroid camera as you went to go meet them in the summer evening air. Those days that feel like they are always endless where day slowly bleeds into night like a wound slowly losing blood.

"Castle!" The small chorus cries with big smiles on their faces as you take the picture and shake it.

You can't help but smile as you see the normally stoic Castle with one of his trademark contented smiles... a smile that reaches his eyes. A smile where he knows he is wanted and loved.

#answer #kit answers #answered #warhammer 40k #space marine husbandry #barn anon #Tales from the Barn #space marine husbandry sentience

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envieuu · 4 months

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୧ ও THE MEMBERS OF ENVIE ଓ ৴

TW. ABUSIVE PARENTS

JANG MIJOO was born on February 20, 2000, in MOKPO, SOUTH KOREA to a religious family. She was raised with both her religion and school life as her top two priorities. However, during her childhood, she'd grown a love for singing. She would sing all the time, to the point the people around her would get annoyed of it. Though they couldn't deny that she had a beautiful voice. This is when her parents decided to make use of her talents by putting her in their services choir. Due to this, Mijoo and her family quickly became notable members of their church.

Although she enjoyed singing with her church, Mijoo saw something bigger for herself. She saw herself becoming a name that people would recognize. This was when she realized that she wanted to become a gospel singer. At the age of 13, Mijoo uploaded her very first video to YouTube of her singing a rendition of one of her favorite gospel songs. This would become a frequent for the young girl as she would go on to post multiple covers at least every two weeks.

Gradually, she would see a rise in views that would eventually lead to her discovery by HONEYMOON AVE Productions at the age of 16 years old. Mijoo went on to sign a contract with them and would gear up for a solo debut only a year later. She would release a few songs before going practically radio silent until 2020 when her contract was bought by FLEURY RECORDS. Following her new exclusive contract, Mijoo began her training with the Envie lineup and continued to debut as the group's MAIN VOCALIST

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ THE BASICS

FULL NAME. Jang Mijoo

BIRTHDATE. February 20, 2000

ZODIAC. Pisces

BIRTHPLACE. Mokpo, South Korea

HOMETOWN. Mokpo, South Korea

ETHNICITY. Korean

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ CAREER

OCCUPATION. Idol

GROUP. Envie

POSITION. Main Vocal

YEARS ACTIVE. 2016 - present

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ PHYSIQUE

HEIGHT. 5'3" (161cm)

FACECLAIM. Kim Jiwoo

BODY MODIFICATIONS. Standard Lobe Piercings

YING JIALI, formerly known as POPPY, was born on June 7, 2000, in Huangzhou, China, but moved to NEW YORK, where she resided in QUEENS. She was raised in a household with her two sisters--one older, one younger--by her cook mother and her father who worked an office job. Her childhood wouldn't be described as ideal by anyone, as her father was abusive to her, her siblings, and her mother alike. Even though she would stay quiet and to herself in the house, she would receive majority of his lashings.

Even in the strife, Jiali found her passion. She was in love with dancing and would use it as an escape from her challenging domesticity situation. With an idea of how she could get away from her father, she snuck out on several occasions to auditions for dance teams. Somewhere along the lines, Jiali found out about K-Pop and was inspired by senior groups like GIRLS' GENERATION and FLOE&HAIL. This is when she would stumble upon advertising for global auditions at FLEURY RECORDS, which excited her because it happened to be the agency that housed the group mentioned prior. She would sneak out once again and audition for the label and luckily was accepted.

In one night, she would quickly leave her family behind, writing notes specifically for her sisters and mother. She vowed to provide for them once she makes it where she wants to be in life. She began training with Fleury and was even sent to participate in the 2018 survival show PRODUCE 48 as POPPY where she would ultimately rank #18, unfortunately not making it into the lineup. Although disappointed, this would later work out in her favor when she would be able to debut as Envie's MAIN DANCER, LEAD RAPPER, and SUB-VOCAL.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ THE BASICS

FULL NAME. Ying Jiali

ENGLISH NAME. Briella Ying

BIRTHDATE. June 7, 2000

ZODIAC. Gemini

BIRTHPLACE. Huangzhou, China

HOMETOWN. New York City, New York

ETHNICITY. Chinese

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ CAREER

OCCUPATION. Idol,

GROUP. Envie

POSITION. Main Dancer, Lead Rapper, Sub-Vocal

YEARS ACTIVE. 2018, 2021 - present

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ PHYSIQUE

HEIGHT. 5'7" (170cm)

FACECLAIM. Shen Xiaoting

BODY MODIFICATIONS. Standard Lobe Piercings, Upper Left Arm Tattoo, Tragus Piercings

LEE KIYEON was born on July 1, 2001 in SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA to an orthodontist father and psychiatrist mother. It's safe to say that she was raised in a wealthy household, her upbringing never being one in struggle of finance and bathing in luxurious items. From the time she was 4 years old, she pursued a serious career in ballet. Her mother, in spite of being a psychiatrist proved to take a serious mental toll on her daughter as she seemed to live vicariously through Kiyeon. She was unhealthily attached to her life and often pressured her in her ballet career. Though at her prestigious studio a lot of her peers despised her, and the competition was dire, Kiyeon's own mother probably served as her biggest enemy.

Somewhere along the lines, she was deemed something close to a prodigy by her instructors and peers alike. She would go on to score lead roles in a large sum of the institution's productions, but this wouldn't come without heavy competition between her and one of her friends at the company that would last for years and be a detrimental to her psyche. Either way, because of her performance quality, she would be scouted by a talent agent at Fleury and become a favorite among the trainees. After training with the ensemble, she would debut as Envie's beloved MAIN VOCALIST, LEAD DANCER, and VISUAL.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ THE BASICS

FULL NAME. Lee Kiyeon

BIRTHDATE. July 1, 2001

ZODIAC. Cancer

BIRTHPLACE. Seoul, South Korea

HOMETOWN. Seoul, South Korea

ETHNICITY. Korean

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ CAREER

OCCUPATION. Idol, Ballerina

GROUP. Envie

POSITION. Main Vocal, Lead Dancer, Visual

YEARS ACTIVE. 2005 - 2018, 2021 - present

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ PHYSIQUE

HEIGHT. 5'6" (167cm)

FACECLAIM. Kim Minjeong

BODY MODIFICATIONS. Standard Lobe Piercings, Upper Right Arm Tattoo

KANNIKA SHINAWATRA, professionally known as YANA or YANA SHINAWATRA, was born on September 13, 2002, in CHIANGMAI, THAILAND to an acupuncturist father and an actress mother. From a very young age, Yana knew what she wanted to be: a star. She looked up to her mother as a little girl who was a popular actress in Thailand and often wished to be adored just like her mother. Yana began getting recognized once she got a little older and was often casted for small roles as a child actress for advertisements and tv series. However, acting wasn't really a passion for Yana. It was performing that inspired her most.

Talent agents recognized Yana's natural star power and often tried to scout her for multiple opportunities. But there was one thing that stood in the way of her dream, her mother. Her mother found her charisma and talent cute when she was younger but seemingly started to sabotage her own daughter. She would purposely ruin her chances to claim fame and get big. Yana's mother felt as though because she was getting older and receiving less attention, her daughter was beginning to steal all of her limelight. Her jealousy caused much conflict between the two, many extreme arguments conspiring almost every day within the household.

This led to Yana finding a manager of her own instead of her mother playing the role. Due to this, she was given the chance to seek labels that would be able to house her best. She would then audition for Fleury and ultimately be accepted, where she would begin her training with Envie, eventually debuting as the charming MAIN RAPPER, LEAD DANCER, LEAD VOCAL, and MAKNAE.

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ THE BASICS

FULL NAME. Kannika Shinawatra

BIRTHDATE. September 13, 2002

ZODIAC. Virgo

BIRTHPLACE. Chiangmai, Thailand

HOMETOWN. Chiangmai, Thailand

ETHNICITY. Thai

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ CAREER

OCCUPATION. Idol

GROUP. Envie

POSITION. Main Rapper, Lead Dancer, Lead Vocal, Maknae

YEARS ACTIVE. 2021 - present

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ PHYSIQUE

HEIGHT. 5'4" (166cm)

FACECLAIM. Anatchaya Suputtipong

BODY MODIFICATIONS. Standard Lobe Piercings, Lower Back Tattoo, Outer Conch Piercings, Right Helix Piercing, Upper Lobe Piercings

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wowbright · 4 months

Text

Fic: Blessing (Spring/Summer 2012)

Fandom/pairing: Glee, pre-Kurt/Blaine

Event: December Klaine Fanworks Challenge 2023, day 19: assist

Words: ~ 1250 words

Rating: Teen and up

Summary: During his junior year of high school, Kurt receives a glimpse of his future through his patriarchal blessing.

Notes: This is part of my Mormon!Klaine universe and a new chapter in Small Things, which I thought I had completed in 2015. Back then, I wrote some notes around Kurt's patriarchal blessing, but it was too fragmented to include—I had a deadline for a fandom event, so I didn't have time to polish it up. On a chapter of Out of Eden I recently posted, @georgiegems asked about patriarchal blessings and why Blaine’s was so significant to him, so I figured now is the time to write that part of Kurt's story out. (This is NOT a spoiler for Out of Eden.)

You can read here or on AO3. The AO3 version includes what's here plus the complete text of Kurt’s patriarchal blessing.

-------------

“I’ve been praying about you,” Bishop Longquist says to Kurt one Sunday a few weeks after Kurt comes out. “I think it’s time you had your patriarchal blessing.”

A patriarchal blessing only comes once in a person’s lifetime. It’s a piece of personal scripture—a message from Heavenly Father and Jesus Christ to a faithful member of the church, delivered through an ordained member of the priesthood called a patriarch.

Kurt is caught off guard. He only came out to the bishop two months ago. The bishop was so loving and so understanding that Kurt felt prompted, a few weeks later, to confess what happened with Karofsky. That went well, too—maybe even better than Kurt wanted it to go. Kurt felt dirty and like he needed to repent, but Bishop Longquist said it wasn't Kurt’s fault, so he had nothing to repent of. Kurt knows what the bishop said made sense, but he still feels like there should be some kind of time requirement between getting kissed by a boy and receiving something so important as a patriarchal blessing. “Shouldn’t I wait a little longer?”

“The time to hear the Lord’s guidance for your life is now, don’t you think?”

“But I’m …” They’re in the hallway. A group of women stand outside the Relief Society room. Boys are filing past them in twos and threes to priesthood quorum. He lowers his voice. “My problem.”

Bishop Longquist smiles. It’s a sad, knowing smile, full of love and carrying the weight of the world with it because of that love. “You’re worthy, Kurt.”

A few weeks later, Kurt and Burt and Carole drive up to Toledo to where the patriarch lives. Kurt’s never met him before. His house is large, practically a mansion, and overlooking Maumee Bay. The patriarch’s wife is in a pink rayon dress with box pleats in the skirt. She wears pearls around her neck. She guides them to the home office and sets glasses of ice water on coasters that line the edge of the patriarch’s desk.

The patriarch himself has white hair, white skin, and a dark suit with an understated gray silk tie. He’s exactly what Kurt expected.

They sit on opposite sides of the desk, talking for a few minutes about school and Kurt’s longing to go on a mission. He can’t bring himself to let go of Carole’s hand, even though his own is raining sweat. Kurt skirts over glee club and doesn't mention his interest in fashion or the fact that he finds so much beauty in other boys. He’s not ashamed of being gay, exactly, but he doesn't want to arouse this stranger’s suspicions. It's not like God is likely to mention it anywhere during the patriarchal blessing—his gayness might be part of who he is on earth, but it's probably not part of his eternal character—so there's no need to bring it up at all.

The patriarch explains that the blessing comes from Heavenly Father, not from him. He is merely the vessel. He listens for God’s voice, which he occasionally hears in the form of words, but more often in the form of spiritual impressions. When he receives the impressions, he translates them into his own words, much like Joseph Smith translated the Book of Mormon from Reformed Egyptian, a language he did not speak, through the power of God. His wife will record and transcribe the blessing, and copies will be sent both to Kurt and to church headquarters. The church will make three digital copies of the blessing and store them in three different places, and a microfilm copy will also be preserved in a secure vault. That means that if Kurt ever loses his personal copy, or if his progeny in the future should like a copy, they can always get one from the church. Kurt can also make as many copies as he wants of the blessing he receives, so that he always has it on hand to study and to bring comfort to him. “But keep it out of the way of wandering eyes,” the patriarch advises. “This is personal scripture, and you should not let others read it outside your family. You may sometimes be prompted to share a general message from your blessing with another person, but when you do this, do not repeat the exact words or go into specific details lest they take it on as the word of God for themselves. No one can assist in interpreting another person's patriarchal blessing for them. If you have questions about what anything in your blessing means, pray to Heavenly Father for guidance.”

The patriarch says a short prayer, inviting the Holy Ghost to be with them. He asks Kurt to pray, too. Kurt’s so nervous, he has no idea what he says.

Then it’s time. Burt and Carole scoot their chairs back a little to give the patriarch room. The patriarch’s wife sets a digital recorder on top of the desk and makes sure it’s on. Kurt takes deep breath after deep breath, preparing himself for the moment the patriarch is going to lay his hands on him. Even after all these years in the church, he’s not quite used to people touching him at these intimate, spiritual moments. His body wasn’t wired that way—not unless it’s someone who knows him inside and out, like his mom and Dad and Carole, and sometimes Mercedes.

Kurt closes his eyes and bows his head, feels the warmth of the patriarch’s hands radiating near him before they actually make contact. They’re so warm, Kurt thinks of fire, and then The Spirit of God like a fire is burning! It’s the first line of a hymn Kurt’s been singing before he even knew how to read, and when the next lines follow—The latter-day glory begins to come forth; The visions and blessings of old are returning—he knows the Holy Ghost is already there with them in the room, in Kurt’s heart, witnessing that this blessing is from God.

Kurt feels the words more than hears them. The blessing gives him flashes of his past and his future: the safety of the preexistence, living beside his Heavenly Parents without fear or desire; the wise face of Ephraim, from whom he and his parents and the greatest tribe of Israel are descended, preserved until the last days to gather all the tribes of Israel together; the comfort of sitting in his mother’s lap when she was still alive, him so small and her so large and all-encompassing; a solid hug from his father; the sound of his shoes hitting the pavement as he walks alongside his missionary companion, an indescribable warmth in his heart; pink sunlight bathing the interior walls of temple rooms he’s only imagined but never seen; the squirming solidity of children in his arms, his children, when they come home for the first time; an unfamiliar yet comforting hand holding his, firm and loving, its pads fitting perfectly into the grooves of his own palm; a man’s voice—not his father’s, not the patriarch’s—a voice Kurt can’t place and yet feels like home to him, saying, “God is love; and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in God, and God in him.”

#december klaine challenge 2023 #day 19: assist #mormon!klaine #fic: small things #wowbright writes fic #klaine fic #klaine fanfic #klaine fanfiction

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bardic-inspo · 1 month

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I would love to ask you a million of these but I’ll settle for three (if you feel like answering them, of course)! 🥤 🧃🎨

Thanks for participating!!! 💛

Ahh you are so sweet, thank you so much!! 😘💜💜

[Writer's Truth or Dare Ask Game] 🥤 ⇢ recommend an author or fanfic you love

There are SO many massively talented writers out there, many of which are still on my ever-growing to-read list. I wanna send some love to @littlejuicebox's multichapter fic, Midwinter Carol, which I'm about halfway through and absolutely loving so far!

It has: Ascended Astarion! Pining for someone who's right in front of you! Divorced yearning! Beautiful, poetic prose! Just absolutely *chef's kiss* Astarion characterization! Such a compelling protagonist in Eirianwen. Girl has got backbone and I'm excited to get to know her more and see how she complements and challenges our boy. And just a the perfect balance of angst and flirty hopefulness.

The actual fic summary (below) is much better than mine. You can read the fic on AO3 or Tumblr:

Fifteen years after the Ascendant and his lover went their separate ways, they run into one another at Wyll Ravengard’s Midwinter Gala. One dance is all they share. A week later, a cataclysm of events, spurned by Eirianwen’s return, uproots the life Astarion had been building for himself. One thing is made certain: the elven sorceress is the key to any ounce of salvation he may have left, if only she stops slipping through his fingers like sand from an hourglass. But old habits die hard, and old feelings are pulled to the surface for both the elves. Astarion is forced to confront the wounds of his past and deal with the damage he's done while trying to run from himself. The Ascendant is forced to decide whether he will continue on his current path or forge a new one... perhaps one that leads him back to the love of his life.

🧃 ⇢ share some personal lore you never posted about before

Hmm, I think I maybe talked about this on Twitter once, but not here. Well, I'm now pretty firmly in the agnostic (if not atheist) camp, but my parents pushed me to get confirmed as a kid (we were Lutheran). And I went to a church where, part of the youth group program was performing a traveling mime show of the passion story. Like, full on face-paint, black turtlenecks, miming Jesus getting crucified. There was a super eerie soundtrack and narration that went with it. Lots of drama over whether any of the girls could try-out for the Jesus role. Whipping sound effects. Absolutely no disrespect to anyone finding religious insight through art and whatnot. It just feels a little weird and uncomfy to me personally in retrospect. But then, religion really isn't for me. Most of the other confirmation programs I heard about my classmates doing had like, community service projects instead.

🎨 ⇢ link your favourite piece of fanart and explain why you like it

My first commissioned piece of Astarion and my main Tav (Naomi) was just finished tonight and I'm riding a cloud about it. They're so soft with each other and the artist did such a lovely job 🥹

There is SO much incredible BG3 and Astarion art out there. This piece really stands out to me, too. I just love how they captured Astarion's tender expression here, and how lovely he looks in this lighting:

#thank you so much for the ask!! <3 <3 #ask games #fic recs #art recs #about megh #megh speaks

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thatmexisaurusrex · 8 months

Text

First Flight

Summary: Gideon lets his little brother climb a tree. He doesn't expect his brother to jump out of the tree too.

The tree was a Flowering Dogwood.

Gideon knew this because his siblings had asked him last week after church while waiting for their parents to finish their goodbyes to friends and the gossiping old ladies. Gideon had winked and said it was a secret, but then spent the rest of the week investigating what kind of tree this particular one was.

Pale-green, almost white from a distance, four-petaled flowers with green clusters in the middle. Finally toothed leaves which change color in the fall weather. Deeply grooved, reddish-brown bark.

It was a Flowering Dogwood.

At least.

That was what Ms. Stacy of the Youth Group said when Gideon broke down and asked her.

But nonetheless, Gideon's siblings gazed upon him in awe as he told them about this secret tree a week later.

"I'm going to climb the secret tree," whispered Sam as he turned his eyes back to the now orange-red leaved Flowering Dogwood.

Sam had gotten into the habit of climbing things. Not that Gideon completely kept track of the different phases his younger siblings went through, but this phase had stood out in particular for how long it had gone on.

Sam would climb the stairs on the wrong side of the railing, only to be thwarted by one of their parents a few feet up. They would now find Sam on the top of a bookshelf, sprawled out like a cat with the latest comic whenever they went to the library. Apparently, Sam started to sit on top of his desk at school during lessons too.

Gideon probably should tell Sam to stop. But he saw Sarah excitedly nodding in agreement and Gideon really couldn't say no to his little brother.

"Go for it," said Gideon as he watched Sam run over to the tree without his permission.

Sam climbed much more proficiently than Gideon ever could up the sixteen-foot tree, skittering almost halfway up before taking a break.

Sarah, for her part, seemed in awe of what Sam had just done. She gazed, agape at Sam six feet off the ground before she blurted, "You're so good at that!"

"Do you want to be a rock climber or something?" asked Gideon, wondering if he should see if there's a gym nearby for Sam.

"No," said Sam, and in a horrifying twist, turned to face outward to his siblings, "I want to be a bird!"

Gideon wasn't sure what he expected a six-year-old boy to say. And while Gideon sprinted over to try to catch Sam, or possibly just buffer the kid's fall, he couldn't help but notice how happy Sam was in the air.

The look of pure joy on Sam's face as he soared.

And Sam had been happy before, but he never looked this happy. This was what all the climbing was about. And Gideon had just given Sam his first opportunity to actually jump.

Gideon felt a little less happy about the situation when all fifty pounds of Sam fell on top of him, toppling them both to the ground.

Though.

Gideon got over it quickly once Sam started laughing maniacally. A little boy filled with giggles and adrenaline.

"Again. I need to do that again," said the adrenaline junkie in the making before Gideon wrapped his arms around Sam and kept Sam in his clutches.

"Nope. Let's figure out a safer way for you to fly," said Gideon, wondering just how he was going to do that before settling on, "You can jump out of the tree again next week."

And yeah, there were people watching the three of them now. The old ladies were gossiping as they always did. Gideon could hear their parents walking over and asking what happened. But all Gideon could focus on was the look of joy Sam had as Sam gazed at that Flowering Dogwood, probably thinking about that first flight.

This is for @samsseptember's Samtember 2023 series for the prompt "First Flight". The dividers are from here.

#samtember2023 #sam wilson #gen fic #gideon wilson #sarah wilson #family feels #fluff #first flight #gideon pov

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zirawrites · 1 year

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Companions react to sole going missing during a run by themselves through the wasteland but (to their relief) sole ends up being found . Love love love ur writing btw

Cait: Her first reaction was anger; the kind where relief was less of a weight lifted from shoulders but rather hot adrenaline sending static through veins. Cait poked her finger into Sole’s chest, ignoring how her friend flinched and cutting through her own fear with harsh words. “I told ya not to run off without me! Yer just a vaultie fresh out the ground. Don’t go off without someone watchn’ yer back again, Sole.”

Curie: Poor Curie had paced Sanctuary all night waiting up for her favorite companion. It was harder to stay awake than when she had been a Miss Nanny. Living organisms (and synths) had to battle heavy eyelids and imprudent yawning that made her feel like a bad friend. When Sole finally came over the bridge, limping alongside several weathered Minutemen, Curie rushed to their aid. “I was worried sick, Sole!” She already had a bandage around Sole’s bleeding arm before anyone could tell her what was wrong. “I’ve prepared a cot in the infirmary. I insist you come there at once and allow me to evaluate your wounds.”

Danse: This wasn’t the first time Danse had lost track of a fellow soldier. The Commonwealth was unpredictable, and it wasn’t hard to picture one of his charges falling cliffside from uneven footing or losing their way in a radstorm. When a group of senior Brothers radioed Danse that Sole had been found holed up in Red Rocket to wait out a pack of feral ghoules, he huffed and asked them to put Sole on. Sole’s voice was weak and breathy as they explained they had run out of both ammo and provisions when the herd approached. “You did the right thing, soldier.” Danse made sure he was muted when he sighed, then clicked the radio back on. “But you were also grossly unprepared. I won’t lecture you. You’ve obviously learned your lesson.”

Deacon: Deacon never lost track of Sole. Hell, he was the one who tailed them weeks before the Railroad even knew they existed. So when his partner didn’t show up at HQ after a routine solo mission, he scoured their trail for clues. He eventually had to come back -- proverbial tail tucked between his legs -- when Sole could not be tracked. Luckily, Deacon had trained them well. Sole, who had been injured in a firefight, followed Railroad signs to a dead drop they knew held medical supplies for allies. They were patching themselves up when another agent found them and brought them back to the church. Deacon hugged Sole a little too long, and much too tightly. He promised to be more vigilant, and Sole couldn’t possibly imagine what that meant.

Hancock: Hancock had learned early that being friends with Sole meant thrilling highs and dangerous lows. They were the coolest smoothskin in the Commonwealth, but also the most prone to risk. Sole’s disappearance unnerved him, sure. They could have stopped at Diamond City for a drink just as easily as having been snatched by the Institute. He kept calm for a few days, but eventually sent runners out to find them. And luckily he did. Sole had been badly injured in Super Mutant territory. Hancock was happy to share his ration of pain-numbing chems over a drink, demanding Sole tell him every gritty detail of their journey.

MacCready: MacCready allowed himself the reprieve of a curse when he realized Sole missed their rendezvous in Sanctuary. It wasn’t like his partner to flake, which only meant one thing: Sole was in trouble. He tried not to panic, but his distress was evident in the way his posture went rigid and brows deeply creased as he packed his bag to find them. It took him a day of traveling before he heard -- via Travis over Diamond City Radio of all things -- that Sole had been found trapped in a raider camp. The newsworthy part of the story was that Sole slaughtered the entire group and once again made the Commonwealth safer, but MacCready was just relieved they were alive.

Preston: Preston sent out a search party the moment he realized Sole had not returned to the Castle. He spent days pacing the bricked halls and busing himself in documents. Preston knew Sole wouldn’t want him to slack off, even for their sake. When Sole was finally found uninjured, he couldn’t wipe the wide grin off his beaming face. “Glad to see you in one piece, General. Now, about the settlements...”

Piper: Piper immediately put out a joke ad in the paper: HAVE YOU SEEN THIS VAULT DWELLER? It sat directly above an unflattering picture Nat had snapped of Sole from her short stature. WANTED ALIVE, 1 CAP REWARD. It was funny up until Sole had been gone for a week. Piper wondered if Sole had seen the ad and got offended. Maybe Blue didn’t want to come home. Luckily, Piper didn’t need to wait much longer. She heard Sole greet Nat out front of Publick Occurrences, detailing their recent run-in with raiders. Then rustling newspaper, and a shout from Sole asking what the hell Piper had printed.

Nick: Nick didn’t need to explain to Sole once they were found just how lucky they were to have a detective as a best friend. It had only taken a few interviews for Nick to find where Sole had been taken. He didn’t even need to find them; the raiders heard Detective Valentine was on their trail and let them go.

X6-88: X6 had one job: ensure the safety of the future leader of the Institute. He was more frustrated with himself for failing than upset with Sole for getting lost. He followed leads and clues until he found Sole -- dehydrated but relatively unharmed -- out in the middle of the Commonwealth. X6 spared them a lecture, knowing Sole could give them one just as intense for messing up his most important directive.

#fallout 4 #fallout 4 reactions #fallout 4 writing #maccready #nick valentine #fallout 4 piper #fallout 4 deacon #fallout 4 hancock #hancock #fallout 4 danse #fallout cait #fallout 4 cait #fallout 4 curie #im not even gonna edit this full send

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ssahotstuff · 2 years

Text

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

Listen To Your Heart by Roxette here

Warnings: Hotch being a jerk, but there’s a happy ending! Smut, cursing, alcohol consumption, a bit of mutual pining/sexual tension/angsty kinda, reader is a member of the BAU and Hotch is making her life hell lol

This stands alone and isn’t part of any series howeverrrrrr it could potentially get a pt 2 if enough people are interested haha I didn’t really proofread so don’t come for me

Word count: 6.3k

You'd been walking since you left work for the day, in an unknown direction, but mostly towards home. The side streets and deserted alleys were all as empty as you felt, trudging through the light fall of snow on the ground. You'd left the BAU on a mission to get him out of your head, and you were determined to walk him off; shake him anyway possible, but even after an hour of walking through the city, you didn't feel any better.

You were convinced that he couldn't stand you. His behavior was normal, usually: barking orders, leading ruthlessly, everything a fearless Unit Chief is required to do. But things had changed in the last few weeks. He'd been short with you more than once, and he'd even made it a point to single you out on several cases, which was embarrassing. You put in a tremendous amount of work and effort for your job, more than anyone else because you were the newest member, and you still had to prove yourself. But after saving more lives than you could count, including some of your team, he still didn't take you seriously.

No matter how rude he'd been lately, you couldn't shake him from your mind, which is why you were trying a new method. You planned to train your brain to think of anything else but him; the weather, your job, your hobbies, but god forbid, you wouldn't last another day if your every thought was laced with Hotch.

You'd stumbled into the dimly lit, half empty bar by chance, ordering a drink at the bar and retreating to an empty table near the back where you could clear your head. Completely emptying your brain was impossible, but you did everything you could to try to silence the thoughts of a more mundane life with Hotch, one that would never be a reality. You didn't even need mundane, you would have settled for the occasional day off spent with him, but he obviously didn't feel the same.

"What do we know so far?" Rossi's voice came from behind you on the jet, and he explained his thoughts on the current case before Hotch jumped in, voicing his opinion as well. It wasn't long until you were all bouncing ideas at each other, brainstorming as much as you could before you landed.

"We should check and see if the women went to church together," Emily said, and you were jumping in too, suggesting bible studies, faith based programs for women, anything that they could've shared in common.

"Let us decide what should be checked out and what shouldn't," Hotch said flatly, barely glancing up from his file as he told you in the nicest way possible that your input wasn't needed. Things got even worse when you ended up being right, and the connection between the victims ended up being a faith based support group. Derek politely reminded them after 4 days without a break in the case that you'd suggested it on the plane, and Hotch had been pissed with you since.

"Being right once doesn't solve cases," he'd told you, earning a scoff from Morgan as he turned to make sure you were alright.

"What the hell did I do wrong?"

You were on the verge of tears in the back of the car on the way back to the precinct to regroup with Reid, JJ and Rossi. You quickly wiped at your face to hide any evidence of emotion and kept your mouth shut until you were back with your team. You didn't offer any input unless you were addressed directly, which caused a lot of unwanted glances from Reid and JJ, who were the only two people who knew about your crush on Hotch. JJ came to stand next to you so she could ask if you were okay when Hotch interjected, telling the two of you to save the gossip for the plane ride home. JJ knew immediately that he was your problem, with his moody, impatient behavior and sudden disdain for you.

You didn't speak first for the rest of the day, but you'd finally found your unsub; the leader of the support group. When everyone headed to the restaurant connected to the hotel, you opted for room service and spent the remainder of the evening alone until JJ and Reid came up to check on you.

You explained how Hotch had been acting for the last few weeks, both of them exchanging a sad glance before turning to you, trying to offer any comfort at all.

"We'll be home tomorrow and you won't have to see him for a couple of days. It'll be fine," JJ told you, but you weren't convinced. You paced the majority of the night, which was the only thing that seemed to work for your current issue. As long as you were moving constantly, he couldn't invade your mind.

As you boarded the jet the next morning, Morgan was the first to question you on why you skipped dinner with the team.

"Too good to share a meal with us?" He said with a sly smile, which you met back with a fake one. You couldn't even muster up enough energy to try; you wanted to go home and forget the last couple of days happened.

"I was working," you said flatly, retreating to the front of the cabin so you could sit alone. It wasn't a lie; you'd been working tirelessly to erase your broody unit chief from your mind with no such luck. It had been an exhausting night, and you couldn't wait to be back home in your own bed to sulk.

"Working? Since when do you work when we're off the clock?" Reid asked, to which you shrugged before sitting your stuff down, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Since last night. Since when does everybody question everything I do?" Your snappiness earned shocked looks from both men, but they left it alone. They sensed your attitude was from something else entirely, and they were correct. They'd been caught in the crossfire of your dilemma with Hotch, which you hated, but you shook it off and took your seat, which meant Morgan wasn't far behind. You could hear his footsteps, heavy and determined, coming straight for you.

"If we made you upset—"

"No, you didn't. I'm sorry, Derek. It's just—Hotch has been calling me down for every move I make and I'm not sure what I've done wrong."

His eyes softened as he took the seat next to you, unsure of what to say. No one would speak out against him for fear of what would happen afterwards. It was hard defending yourself against someone that had the authority to shut you down without a second thought about it.

"His job is a tough one. Don't let it bug you too much," he patted your shoulder, but you felt even worse than before. You were just supposed to accept his behavior and move on. He didn't treat the others that way; he wouldn't dare. The only person he took his frustrations out on was you.

By the time everyone else boarded the jet, you were already buckled in and waiting to take off. The chatter aboard the plane was chipper, everyone was excited to get home and spend the next few days away from the horrors of the job. You were more than grateful to be getting away from work for a little while. You put in your headphones and tried to concentrate on your music to drown out your thoughts, with little luck. Every song that played reminded you of the way you felt, despite his actions.

The flight felt longer than it actually was, dragging out for what seemed like an eternity. You stayed to yourself, despite Reid asking you to come join in on a poker game. He knew your issues, so he didn't pressure you, instead he went back to his seat and acted as if you were asleep when he came to ask so no one else would try to convince you to play. Despite telling them this, you heard a heavy pair of footsteps coming to a halt in front of you.

"You did exceptional on this case, you know."

It was Rossi, his hands shoved deep in his pockets. You looked up at him and shrugged, because you'd felt like a failure at every move you made thanks to Hotch's attitude.

"I'm trying," you fought the tears that threatened to spill over, the lump in your throat growing considerably at his kind words. You felt rough, and if one of the most talented men in the FBI thought you were doing great, then that meant something.

"What's wrong, kid? I've never seen you like this."

You didn't want to get into it again, you just told him you felt like Hotch was on your ass for no reason.

"Ah. You confuse moodiness with sexual tension," he sat down, his arms still crossed. This immediately caught your attention, so you listened intently and waited for his explanation.

"I think it's getting harder for him to hide his feelings and now he's taking it out on the object of his affections."

You were stunned to say the least. You would've never guessed his attitude was because he didn't know how to approach you about his feelings. He sure was doing a knock out job at making you think the exact opposite.

"You sound insane, Rossi."

He chuckled, leaning in close so only you could hear.

"If you're waiting on him, you'll be waiting forever. It has to be you."

He left you to ponder this shocking revelation, and waited on the plane to land. You were the last person to get off, letting everyone head to the parking garage. You left your car, and that's how you ended up in the smoky bar.

"Can I get another one of these?" The bartender gave you a smile and a nod before she was off to refill your drink. You took out your phone and contemplated calling Hotch but you thought better of it. He'd been really pissed at you, and despite Rossi's explanation, you weren't ready to call him.

When your drink returned, you sucked it down quickly, already feeling a little better about the days prior. If you could just figure out how to get him out of your head, you'd be winning.

Your phone began to ring, JJ checking in on you.

"Where'd you go? Your car is still here and Hotch said he never saw you leave," she sounded worried about you.

"I walked. I'm okay, I just needed some air."

"...Y/n, it's snowing outside. You planning on walking back to Quantico for your car?"

You didn't have a solid answer for her, because you hadn't thought that far ahead. You were planning to walk until you solved the current issue at hand; at this rate, you'd be walking for a month.

"I'll take a cab. I shouldn't be driving right now anyway. I'm fine, JJ. I just can't stop thinking about how Hotch treated me this week. I feel like shit, and I need to sulk and get over him so I can stop feeling this way."

Her end was mostly silent as she processed your words, and you hoped you hadn't sounded too ill with her. You just weren't in the mood to be bothered by anyone.

"I'm sorry. Is there anything I can do?" Her voice was thick with concern, but you assured her you were fine. You were going to have a few drinks, feel sorry for yourself a little while longer, and then take a cab back home.

"Go home and get some sleep, JJ. I'll call you in the morning and we'll go do brunch," brunch always cheered the two of you up, because usually brunch was a trio activity. You, JJ and Reid would go do bottomless mimosas and let Reid drive you home. It was always a good time.

"You're buying," she shot back before she hung up, but you didn't miss her telling someone in the background "it's bad," in a hushed voice, which had led you to believe you'd been on speakerphone the entire time, and someone else heard your conversation. You assumed it was Reid, and tried to let it go. You didn't have the energy to worry about it anymore.

"I'll take another. Make it a double, please."

✨✨✨

"So how do I fix it?"

After hearing the conversation between JJ and Y/n, I knew I had to do something to make up for the way I'd been acting. I hadn't realized I was being so abrasive; I didn't mean to be. It was getting harder to be around her and not focus all of my attention on her. She made me a distracted, inattentive ball of nerves that I couldn't contain any longer.

"I don't know, Hotch. But it's bad. I've never heard her so sad before," the guilt swallowed me up as I grabbed my keys and headed for Penelope's office.

"I need you to tell me where Y/n is," I shut the door behind me and made my way to one of many monitors, all of which were running simultaneously.

"Give me just a second, her phone is on, so it shouldn't take me long to tell you," she typed away at her keyboard before pulling up an address I was more than familiar with; it was the home of one of the only bars in the city I'd go to; it was also a thirty minute drive, so I had no clue if she'd stay put or not.

"Thank you, Garcia," I called, already making my way out the door and to the elevator. Once I'd made it to my car, I realized how bad the weather was getting, the snow blanketing the city quickly. I was more than cautious as I made my way to the bar; thankfully it was close to home so I didn't have far to travel afterwards.

I made my way inside, scanning each patron until I spotted her near the back, alone at a table, leaned against the seat back. She looked pitiful, and the pit in my stomach grew. If she ever liked me before, she didn't anymore, and that was obvious. She seemed miserable, stuck in her thoughts, no doubt trying to figure out what she'd done to make me act like such a jackass.

I wasn't the type of person to explain myself, but if I ever wanted a redemption shot at having her, I had no choice. I crossed the bar, sitting across from her at the table. She didn't exactly look happy to see me, but she did look like she'd been expecting me, because there was a glass in front of me already.

"Garcia told me you were coming," she said flatly, swirling the drink in her own glass, her gaze fixed on the table.

"You're far from home and the snow is getting deep outside," she shrugged, sighing heavily as she finished the last of her drink.

"I'm done. I was going to head home but Garcia told me to stay here."

"You don't need to be driving. If you want, you can stay at my place tonight. It's closer."

She shot an eyebrow up at me, chuckling lightly.

"Why are you being so nice to me? You've made it really clear that you have no intentions of accepting me. I'll take a cab, but thank you anyway."

She was pissed. She had every right to be, I'd been acting like an asshole since I first developed real feelings for her. It was originally to keep her at a distance, but as the tension grew, so did my frustrations. I was caught in a tricky situation, so I had no choice but to come clean to her.

"I'm sorry for the way I've been acting. It isn't your fault. I'm sorry that I made you feel so bad that you thought the only solution was to come here, alone, in the snow, with it dark out."

Her face softened slightly as she peered up at me, her hand on her cheek, elbow propped up on the table.

"It's fine."

"It's not fine. I hurt your feelings and that's the last thing I want to do. You're special to me, to the team. I'm sorry that I made you think otherwise."

There was a moment of hesitation before she spoke again, pausing to look out the window at the steady flurry of snowfall.

"We better go before it gets bad," she said softly, paying her tab and following me out to the car. She shrugged her jacket on, rubbing her arms to stay warm as I got the car started and turned on the heat. The snow had gotten worse since I came to get her, covering the windshield of the car.

"I doubt you'll make it to brunch tomorrow," I joked, and she smiled for the first time in a week.

"I think JJ will understand if we're snowed in," she shot back, and I couldn't think of anything better than being grounded with her because of the snow.

"Lucky for us, I have a fireplace in the living room," my thoughts were suddenly driven by lust, imagining all of the ways we could keep each other warm by the fire. I pulled in the driveway and led her inside, immediately relieved by the warmth of the house. She took off her jacket and I put it on the hook next to mine, retreating to the kitchen to make us a cup of coffee. She followed me, sat down at the table, watching me curiously. I'm sure my sudden change of heart had her confused, as well as the turn of events for the evening. I never anticipated being alone with her, and if the snow didn't ease up through the night, it could turn into more than one night spent together.

I sat beside her at the table, handing her the mug. We'd all had a long flight, so I knew she was probably as exhausted as she looked. She'd drained all of her energy trying to get over my behavior.

"You're really hard to resist. I thought I could do it when you first joined the team, but the more I get to know about you, the less I want to resist it."

She stared blankly back at me while she tried to puzzle the pieces together, taking a long sip of her coffee before she answered.

"You're confusing, Hotch. One minute you're jumping down my throat and now...Did you think pissing me off would chase me away?"

"I don't know what I thought. I just didn't want to put you in an uncomfortable position if you didn't feel the same, and I figured it was best to keep you at a distance."

Truthfully, she was the first person I'd wanted since Haley. I hadn't known how to deal with the way she made me feel inside: warm, comfortable, so at ease that just being around her made me feel better. Of course, I pushed these thoughts aside, which is where my erratic, snappy behavior stemmed from. I knew it was unfair to her, but once she had her claws in me, I was sunk; trapped in a hole of confusing feelings that I couldn't shove aside.

"You have every right to be angry with me. I understand. But you deserved to know why. It's juvenile, but it was the only way I thought I could stop it."

She sat her mug down, cautiously placing her hand on my knee.

"I don't want you to stop liking me," it was soft, hushed. The last thing I wanted to do was move on; I'd never be able to. Not being around her everyday. It wouldn't be fair with any woman I tried to get with because I'd compare them all to her.

"I don't want that either. I don't know that I could stop," I tried to imagine a time when she wasn't running through my mind like a song on repeat; she was my favorite melody and I'd hate to never hear her again.

"Maybe we could see how being nice to each other works," she suggested, a smirk on her face. I could feel myself smiling back at her, taking her hand in a moment of bravery.

"We can start right now," I laced my fingers through hers, pulling her upright to follow me to the living room. I handed her the remote and told her to choose something while I found her something to wear.

I was nervous at the thought of being alone with her. It had been years since I had a woman so close, since I dared to touch another human being. Vulnerability didn't sit well with me, but I'd have to open up if I ever wanted her to let me in. I wanted to be scared, but diving in head first was almost instinctual with her; I already knew she wouldn't reject me, I just had to get my anxiety to disappear.

"You can change in my room," I left her alone to change while I pulled off my tie and my dress shirt, mostly comfortable as I waited for her on the couch. My clothes looked like they were destined to hang off of her body, like she'd worn them a hundred times before. As she settled in on the couch, my nerves eased some. She was here, with me, and there was nothing to be afraid of other than falling in love with her.

She sat down beside me and it took all of the willpower I had not to gawk at her. She was effortlessly beautiful in a way that most women couldn't hold a candle to; granted she was much younger than anyone I'd ever pictured myself with. It was her eclectic taste and wide range of interests that drew me to her initially; she loved things beyond her time, appreciated the older things in life. She listened to a lot of the same music that I did, and as far as books and movies, we'd gotten sucked into more than one conversation about our similar tastes.

"There's no way you know about Saint Elmo's Fire, you weren't even born yet!" I'd overheard a conversation between her and Emily, and she very much knew all of the cult classics and then some. She made me feel nostalgic and youthful; I had no doubt she was going to be the biggest ray of sunshine I'd ever come across.

"The Brat Pack stars in most of my favorite movies," she said proudly, and I stopped in my tracks at the knowledge she had of the past; she had a soul wise beyond her 26 years, and a heart of gold.

"What are we watching?" I didn't recognize the movie on the television but she was quick to tell me all about it, because it was one of her favorites. She briefly explained what it was about, unintentionally closing the distance between us as her body moved closer to mine. Before I knew it, I was holding my arm out for her to climb beneath, and she was letting me hold her into my side.

"Maybe we can do this all day tomorrow. Watch it snow and spend the day inside," she nodded, surrendering by leaning all the way into me, tossing her legs lazily over my lap.

"I haven't seen snow in years," she said, peeking out the window behind us. It hadn't let up, if anything, it was even heavier now that we were in for the evening.

"Tell me something else. Anything."

"I had the case solved about ten minutes before you guys put it together. I was afraid to say anything because I didn't want to piss you off anymore."

She stared at our hands intertwined together, but I'd known the gears in her head hadn't stopped turning; I knew she probably had a better understanding of what we did than most people with her set of skills. She was impressive, and I'd went out of my way to discredit her more than once. It was amazing that she even entertained the thought of us being together; I'd not given her much to go on as far as hope was concerned.

"I'm not surprised. You were on fire this week and I put you out."

"I may be young, but I did listen at all of those profiling seminars," she joked, playfully nudging me with her elbow. I brought her in closer, almost into my lap. She still had the same affect on me now that she did the very first day. It nearly left me breathless, watching her march into my office with her head held high and a desire to learn as much as she could. She and Reid went to every seminar the Academy offered in their free time; she may have been fresh, but she was always working harder than anyone else to perfect her skill set. It was admirable, the way she put so much effort into broadening her horizons so she could be a more prepared part of the team.

"I know you did. That's why we look to you for the small details. Sometimes we're still looking at the bigger picture, but you see beyond that. It's incredible really," she blushed heavily, averting her gaze to the floor.

"I'm learning from the best," she winked at me, sending my thoughts spiraling. We'd never been so openly flirty towards one another, never actually sat down and spent real time together. Part of the reason I had been so hesitant on pursuing her was because I knew once she was in my life, getting over her would be hell. She radiated a positive energy that was contagious despite the gloom out job held on a daily basis. She was always the one we could look to when we needed to smile, or needed to feel just a little bit better about what we did.

“You’re a really critical thinker. That’s important in this line of work. And the way you can read people… I don’t know how you catch the subtleties in their behavior that we don’t see, but every single time you’ve had a hunch, you’ve been right.”

She shrugged, sitting her cup down on the table. The movie was almost over; the time seemed to slow in our favor, so I could savor every moment of the bliss I was having with her.

“I guess when you spend your entire life with liars, you start to notice common behavior. Like the support group leader. Every time he would lie to you, he’d pick the skin around his nails. Every time you mentioned a victim, he did it.”

I hadn’t even noticed.

“You knew when I questioned him the first time?”

“I knew he was hiding something. I just didn’t know what. That’s why I said something to Reid. I knew you’d listen to him.”

Reid had been the one to suggest we interrogate him further, but by no idea of his own. She let Reid take the credit for solving the case, just so she didn’t speak up and upset me. I hadn’t realized how harsh I came across until we were alone, and I could truly sit with the weight of my actions.

“Next time, don’t let Reid take the credit for something you figured out. No more making you feel like you can’t speak up for yourself.”

“You promise?”

I nodded, patting my lap for her to climb into completely. She’d been close, but I needed her closer; as close as she’d get. She climbed on top of me, letting me cradle her in my arms as she spread out in my lap.

“This whole being nice to each other thing is working well,” the sly grin on her face told me all I needed to know. I’d been so afraid of letting her in, all because I knew she was exactly what I needed to be able to let my guard down. It wouldn’t take much of her soft, soothing voice and sweet personality to make any man weak, she had me in too deep to turn back and it had only been a couple of hours.

“I was afraid of letting you in. But now that you’re here, I don’t know what I was so afraid of. You fit in my lap like you were made for me,” I couldn’t stop staring at her lips, fixated on thoughts of what she could do with them.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt so comfortable with someone,” she admitted, snaking her arm around my neck to play with my hair. I felt the same way, so captivated by her presence that my nerves had dissipated completely, and had been replaced by adoration for her.

“It’s been a long time since I had anyone close like this,” I let my head rest in the crook of her neck, my nose brushing her jaw. She leaned into me slightly, allowing me to let my lips graze across her skin, planting a soft kiss just below her ear. She shivered beneath my touch, turning in my lap to straddle me.

“I’m glad you’re giving me the chance to see you like this. Carefree, instead of holding the weight of the BAU on your shoulders.”

Truthfully, I hadn’t slowed down in months. I was just filling my time with work to distract myself from bigger, more sensitive issues that I wasn’t ready to tackle just yet. Now, with the solution to all of my problems sat on my lap, slowing down didn’t seem so bad. In fact, it was proving to be more special than I ever could’ve imagined. It was the perfect way to get to know the little things about her that I never got a chance to notice before, like the way her eyes sparkled when she laughed, or how she’d light up during parts of her favorite movie.

I’d only know those little idiosyncrasies about one person before, but now I was making a mental map of her; I wanted her to be my person. I wanted her to be the one who I spent my free time with, the one to occupy every free space in my mind. She was already imbedded in my brain, but the desire to memorize her body, to feel her skin beneath me, was all consuming. The way her eyes lingered a little too long on my lips didn’t help, it made me want to undress her, learn what made her squirm, hear all of the sounds she could make for me.

“The only thing on my mind is you, sweetheart. I’m going to light the fireplace, but you’re coming with me,” I put a hand beneath her and one on her back to keep her in place while I carried her to the den. I only kept a leather bound chair and a rug in the room with the fireplace, so I sat her on the rug and turned on the gas, watching the logs ignite and feeling the warmth immediately radiate over us.

“Perfect way to be snowed in,” she said softly, leaning back on her elbows to look at me. She was so inviting, I couldn’t help myself from crawling on top of her, letting my hands trace every inch of exposed skin from her hips to her neck, bringing her forward to meet my mouth. She moaned into me, and my hips involuntarily bucked against hers, aching to have her naked underneath me. I tugged her shirt over her head and tossed it, peppering her chest with wet, possessive kisses before I tossed my shirt too. I brought her to sit on her knees while I worked on removing her bra, cupping her tits in my hand and squeezing lightly. She pushed her chest forward, letting her bra drop to the floor.

“You’re perfect,” I barely got the words out, my mouth instinctively wrapped around her nipple, bringing it between my teeth. She let out a sexy sigh and it sent me into a frenzy; I had to get her undressed, had to have my mouth on every inch of her gorgeous body. I slowly pulled her pants past her hips, exposing the tiny white panties underneath. She was already soaked as I slid them off too, her mouth slightly agape as I settled between her thighs. One of her legs was thrown over my shoulder, giving me full access to her center as I took her in. Months of sexual frustration and tension had all led to this: her panting beneath me as I sucked her clit between my lips.

“Jesus, Aaron,” my name fell so gracefully from her lips that I would’ve paid her to say it again. I teased her slit with my finger, collecting her arousal to coat my fingers, already slipping inside of her with ease. Her hips raised slightly, bucking off the rug as I curled my fingers inside of her, my tongue swirling around her clit.

“I really enjoy being nice to each other,” she shot me a smile at my teasing, bringing her hands to the back of my head to guide me as she eat her body go limp against the rug. She looked completely at ease for the first time all day, all except for her brows pulled together tightly as she clenched around my fingers, moaning my name as she soaked my fingers in arousal. I wasn’t finished with her, my tongue still lightly flicking at her clit through her orgasm, making her legs shake. It was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen, so I slowly increased the pace of my fingers, gazing at her in awe as she pulled up on her elbows to watch me.

“That’s it, pretty girl. Let me see you,” one slow swipe of my tongue against her and she was arching her back, her eyes closing as she let go, her head falling back and her arms threatening to give way underneath her. She laid back as I sat up on my knees, pulling her closer, gripping her thighs tightly to keep her in place.

“I’m desperate, Aaron, please,” I couldn’t let her beg, so I slid into her, slowly, giving her time to adjust to my length, already throbbing inside of her. She groaned, raising her hips to meet mine so I could fill her up completely. I let out a moan, gripping her hips tightly as I pulled out of her and immediately slammed back into her, earning a satisfying cry of pleasure from her in response. She gripped my thighs with her hands, urging me to fuck her faster. The pounding of our bodies slamming against one another echoed throughout the quiet house, her soft whimpers and impatient wiggling hips making my head spin with desire.

“You’ll never need anyone else, I promise you,” I leaned forward to capture her lips in mine, slowing my thrusts to enjoy the new angle I had her in. She was folded up beneath me, her feet high in the air as I rolled my hips against her.

“I only want you. Please do that again,” she hissed, and I could tell by her shaky voice that she was close. I let my mouth fall to her neck, sucking at her tender flesh gently, causing goosebumps to rise up on her skin. I reached between our bodies to toy with her clit, rubbing slow circles on her sensitive flesh. I kept my movements slow, precise, it was almost too much to handle, overwhelming all of my senses. When she came again, I couldn’t help but spill into her, groaning her name as I sank even further into her, my lips finding hers like a reflex. I wanted nothing more than to be close to her, feel blanketed by her presence.

As if she read my mind, she was tugging me to lay next to her, tossing her arm over my chest.

“I hope you aren’t tired of me, because the snow is only getting worse,” she nodded towards the window, the snow still blowing around outside.

“I was just thinking about how glad I am to be stuck with you,” I kissed her cheek, still baffled by the turn of events that had taken place. We’d taken a chance and it had paid off tremendously; I felt happier than I’d been in years.

“You have no idea how happy I am to finally hear you say that,” she met my mouth eagerly, her lips soft and plump against my own. I found it hard to grasp the concept of ever getting tired of the way she felt, so delicate, love laced in her every move.

“I’m sorry it’s taken us so long,” she shook her head, climbing on top of me to smother me in kisses. I couldn’t help the smile that grew wider every time she made contact with my skin, my hands wrapped around the small of her back, keeping her firmly in place.

“Don’t apologize. I’m here now,” I told her to hang on as I stood us up, leaving our clothes behind and carrying her towards my bed. By the time I laid her down and climbed in next to her, I was already yawning, grateful to have her on the other side of the bed.

#aaron hotchner playlist collection #aaron hotchner #criminal minds #hotch #ssa hotchner #ssa aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner smut #hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotchner x reader smut

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eyeslikewatercoolers · 10 months

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Something Borrowed (Sashnetra-Wedding Planner AU)

After a long wait, here is the revised version of Something Borrowed (aka part 3 of the Wedding Planner AU) Thank you all for waiting, and keeping interest in this AU!

Read on ao3

Also warning for very brief mention of injury/hospitals

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Sasha stood in front of the church's entrance, directing the deliveries coming in for Anetra's wedding in a couple days. If Sasha wasn't so busy dealing with where all the setting up was going in the church, she would have been more concerned over Anetra.

Or, the lack of Anetra, since she has hardly seen her that whole day.

She arrived with Aura and Robin in their rented U-Haul bright and early in the morning, the truck filled with floral bouquets, glass centerpieces, and corsages from the store in LA. They had met with Anetra and her family at the church, as her fiancee and future sister-wife planned to come by in the late morning. Sasha has seen members of Anetra's family all over, but she has only seen the bride a few times.

She watched as Robin closed the back door of the U-Haul as Aura started to carry the last box into the church. "I think that's everything for us. Are the deliveries almost done for today? Robin asked as she walked behind her wife, watching Aura safely walk into the church. The steps to get inside were hard enough to maneuver without a box blocking a person's vision.

"I think that's it. All we have left is the catering and the cake coming in the morning." Sasha looked at the papers on her clipboard before following inside after Robin, looking behind her one last time to make sure no one else was outside and moved the door stopper to keep the door to the lobby shut.

Aura set the box on top of the others that she moved inside earlier and leaned against the wall to catch her breath. "Are we still going down to the Vegas Strip after we are done? You promised us last week that if we went with you today, we'd go clubbing after."

"I thought you wanted us here to distract you from your little crush," Robin added. Sasha loved having Loosey as a close friend, but the seamstress was the biggest gossip she had ever met.

Sasha held up a finger over her mouth and whipped her head to Robin for a second, confirming "Yes, we will go to whatever club you two want after we finish setting up. " she then lowered her voice "And I do not have a crush on anyone, thank you.". She did have to bribe her employees to help her with this wedding set-up, but luckily she enjoyed the company on the drive over from LA. Too bad once the set-up day is over, Robin and Aura will be taking the U-Haul back, and Sasha will be left with a rental car to take herself back after the wedding.

Sasha walked into the main communal hall of the church, seeing the round tables start to get set up. She saw Anetra sit on the edge of the raised stage in the front of the room, phone in her hands and texting away. Sasha assumed it was to her fiancee, but noticed that he had just entered the room and walked over to the bride. Anetra seemed surprised, and quickly locked her phone and set it under her lap as she greeted her groom with a hug. Sasha's people-watching was cut short when the audio equipment delivery person needed her to direct where to start setting up.

Over the next few hours, Sasha was pretty sure that she had spoken to the same twenty-five people who were currently in the church at least five times each. It felt like a rotating group of people, different vendors were asking her where things needed to go, and the family was telling her that things were not in the right place.

The only person that she barely recalled seeing was Anetra. She mostly saw the bride lingering in various corners, before disappearing out of sight again. Sasha noticed that Anetra was practically glued to her phone throughout the day. But how she had watched Anetra texting on the phone, she figured that the conversation had gone on for a while. Which she thought was odd, considering that Anetra's family and fiance had been in the church with her the whole day. So Sasha had no idea who Anetra was busy texting all day long.

Barely seeing Anetra was great for Sasha's crush (which she was still trying to get over), but it was not good for her to focus on her job.

At this point in the afternoon, some vendors were finishing their jobs and preparing to leave for the day. Sasha's list on her clipboard was almost finished, as she was on her last check-in with everyone in the communal room. As she spoke to the officiant, she overheard Anetra's mother from behind her "Have you seen Anetra? She disappeared almost half an hour ago and I haven't seen her since." The other person denied seeing the bride, and Sasha suddenly felt concerned about where Anetra was hiding.

Sasha walked over to Robin after she saw her tell Aura they needed a few more small vases for table centerpieces. As Aura left Robin's side, Sasha swooped over next to Robin. She gently put her hand on Robin's elbow and leaned in to speak soft enough for no one else can hear.

"I'm gonna go try to find Anetra. Apparently, she's been gone for a while, and I want to make sure she's okay." Before she got the chance to hear Robin's response, Sasha was already looking for potential hiding spots.

Sasha walked the inside perimeter of the church, peaking through any nook and cranny for where the bride could be. She walked through a quiet hallway and eventually started to hear a small voice in the direction of the kitchen. The voice became more familiar the closer it became until Sasha discovered that the voice was coming from a storage closet with the door ajar. She paid little attention to what the voice was saying when she pushed the door open.

"-really glad that you said that since I've been-" Anetra was in the storage closet, speaking on the phone when she noticed that she was no longer alone. She was surrounded by boxes of spare supplies for the wedding in a few days. She turned to come face to face with Sasha, her eyes growing wide in panic. "Listen, I gotta go. I'll talk later, bye." She ended the phone call and tried not to make eye contact with her wedding planner, unsure what to say first. "Hey um, Sasha. What are you-" She was cut off from her rambling.

"Why have you been hiding out all day? It's the setup for your wedding day, and we've barely even seen you today." Sasha took a step closer to Anetra, making it harder for her to dash to the exit. "What's the matter? Because it's okay if you're feeling nervous."

Anetra made a quick side-step over Sasha's left side, and slowly walked backward out the room, still facing Sasha. "Yeah, nerves, that's it. I, uh, better go back and help set up then, okay?" Behind Anetra turning the corner, Sasha saw Aura carrying a large box that covered the lower part of her vision.

"Wait, Anetra! Watch ou-" Her attempt at a warning was cut short as she heard glass shattering on the floor, followed by a thud. She scrambled out of the closet, to see what the damage was. She first saw Aura holding the box upside down, all of the contents spilled onto the floor. She looked through the trail of broken vases that started at Aura's feet down the kitchen floor until her eyes reached Anetra lying face down over the broken glass.

Sasha and Aura looked at each other from across the kitchen, before both ran over to where Antera was on the floor. Luckily, Anetra was slowly trying to push herself off the ground and looked directly at Sasha. Sasha looked at Aura and then at Anetra again, knowing this day was going to be much longer now.

"You're bleeding, I'm taking you to the hospital."

After over an hour of waiting in the Emergency Room lobby, then a couple more hours in the exam room where Anetra got stitches for her eye injury, Sasha was finally pulling the rental car out of the ER parking lot, with Anetra in the passenger seat. Anetra held her hospital discharge papers in her lap and pressed the taped gauze over her left eye as the car pulled around to the hospital's exit. Both women were quiet after the long evening together, until Sasha merged onto the I-15, joining the late-night traffic.

"I'm still shocked that you only managed to get the glass to slice through your eye." Sasha was the first to break the silence in the car. She glanced over at Anetra, who let out a small laugh and nodded in agreement.

"I'm still shocked that you managed to get Aura to distract my mom while you snuck me out," Anetra said in response and added, "She would have been fuming if she found out that I managed to get a face injury a few days before my wedding."

"I'm used to angry moms of brides at this point, I'm sure I could have handled her," Sasha said matter-of-factly.

"I don't think you understand the wrath of a scorned Puerto Rican woman."

Both women laughed together in the car, and Sasha saw Anetra finally relax for the first time that day. She felt that the bride was allowing her mask to slip, and saw a glimpse of the real Anetra. They drove together in comfortable silence, and Anetra showed Sasha which exit to turn onto to take her home. The car traveled through a picturesque neighborhood, as the sidewalk lined the street on both sides and the lawns were all cut to the same length.

Anetra turned to Sasha to look at her with her uncovered eye and asked her suddenly "Hey, Sasha? Can I ask you something?" Sasha nodded in response and looked at her once she pulled up to the stop sign. The street light illuminated Anetra's face as she looked at her, her brunette hair loose and partially glowed in the artificial lighting. Anetra continued with her question "How do you know if something is the right choice for you? Like, just in general, is what I mean."

Sasha did not expect to get into a philosophical conversation with a bride this evening, but here she was. She took a deep breath and tried not to think that Anetra was referring to her wedding. She has known of brides getting cold feet, but outwardly asking their wedding planner if marriage was right for them has never happened to her. She thought for a moment before answering "I think you just know if something is right for you. I really don't know what choice you are trying to decide on, but I think you would want to look at what it could affect you later on." She pulled into the driveway of the house Anetra lead her to, as Anetra nodded at her answer.

"You need to decide what's best for you and your happiness, okay?" Sasha added before Anetra unbuckled her seatbelt.

"Okay, thank you for the advice." Anetra opened the car door and stepped out, and added before shutting the door "Realy, I appreciate it. I'll see you in a few days." Sasha watched as Anetra waved goodbye and walked to the front door of the house, before walking inside.

As Sasha drove back to her hotel that night, she tried to avoid thinking about what the next few days would hold for herself and the bride.

#wedding planner au #sashnetra #rpdr fanfiction #sasha colby #anetra #my fics #my writing #rpdr s15

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bokettochild · 1 year

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Hey. How’s it going? How was your day?

-🪵🐺

It was... interesting

My college graduation/commencement ceremony was today. I'd been telling my dad about it for weeks and found out yesterday that my mom hadn't a clue it was happening (she hasn't been talking with me until yesterday but I thought my dad might bring it up since I invited them) so I rold her myself, and invited her and my family once more.

However, after I enjoyed a chill morning and dolled myself up a bit (just a bit) I went to the ceremony and no one really showed up for me. Despite all efforts to not, I ended up crying through the reception and left early after scouring the halls for any sign of my family or a friend who'd all but promised to come.

There was a really nice lady who gave me a hug and helped me with photos though so I had some sort of pictures for the day at least :)

I was sort of really upset, because while I get that my family was busy, I didn't get so much as a heads up that they couldn't come or explanation for why, and the only word I heard was when I asked if they came and they said no.

Maybe it's silly, but out of 249 graduates, I was the only person alone, and since I was mostly attended classes online, I knew no one except a couple professors who probably didn't remember me, and a few members of the choir who performed for the ceremony. I've felt alone before, but yeah, this was overwhelming.

Anyways, I left shortly after and caught a bus to my library and tried burying myself in a childhood favorite book (only to realize it's not half as good as I recall) and then missed my bus to my next destination. It ended up being okay though because I got to tell myself a theraputic story while making the hour walk (we had good weather, I had good shoes and honestly it was refreshing and also calming) and I made it to my Saturday hang out with some other ladies.

They were amazing. We talked about random stuff, played board games, had dinner, and when they heard no one came for my ceremony, they snuck off for a bit and pulled together a little gift and card to give me, which they all signed. I got a hug (which I've been needing for forever) and they told me that they're my church family (we don't even go to the same church, which made that really a tearjerker) and they support and are proud of me.

I know I'm rambling, but that made my day. They were so sweet and caring it it really made it all worth it and made me feel so much better to know someone gave a crap about my success.

All told, it was a rough day, but it had a silver lining/rainbow after the storm ending and honestly I am so gosh darn thankful for the ladies in this group.

#personal #it's probably silly that i cried so much #but being alone is very overwhelming for me #same thing happened at my proms #i really need to figure out how to make friends irl so i'm not a walking wallflower just watching other people be buddies #heres to hoping when i go to my next school i spend more time making firneds #not lu

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boygiwrites · 8 months

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Harley D. Dixon 14

An amazing edit inspired by this story! (Cred to Cora_Line99) Harley D. Dixon's Pinterest Board! Harley D. Dixon's Playlist!

📖Chapter List.

Author's Note. Another quick update! I'm on a roll! Please enjoy reading :)

"Blessed be God, Father of our Lord Jesus Christ in heaven."

Under the shade of an old oak tree on the outskirts of the Greene farm, I stand at Shane's side as Herschel fills an empty grave with prayers. I've never been to a stranger's funeral before. I don't belong here — none of our group does — but according to Rick, this is how we show respect to the mourning family, and respect is how we get to stay here on the farm longer than just a week. I'm not too sure what's so respectful about watching in silence while Patricia lowers her dead husband's belongings into the ground, but this is what we have to do.

"Praise be to Him for the gift of our brother, Otis — For the span of his years; for his abundance of character."

I glance up at Rick, who's standing on the other side of the semi-circle we've formed. He stares at Shane. I didn't know so much about Otis' character, but he must've had a whole bunch of it, 'cause Patricia cries twice as loudly now, as Maggie helps her out the grave. All I know is he shot my Dad. In another life, this would've been Rick's fate for killing my Uncle. In another-another life, my Uncle isn't dead at all.

"Otis, who gave his life for the chance to save another."

That's how the story goes. Shane and Otis, cornered but resilient, down to ten rounds — one killed in a tragic act of sacrifice.

"We thank you, God, for the rest you now grant him. He died as he lived — In grace. May the arms of eternity embrace him."

I wonder if Otis is going to Hell or heaven. I wonder if God's holdin' him in some sort of waiting room right now, watching on as my Dad fights for his life; waiting to see if Otis is a murderer. In my eyes, he already is. If God's as smart as they say he is, he'll send Otis to Hell.

Herschel gently closes the Bible.

Me and my Dad went to church, a long time ago. They used to give out free food and diapers every Sunday before mass to encourage people who couldn't afford those types of things to come in and pray, but we never did any of the praying. We just took the cheap groceries, feeling only partially ashamed as upper middle-class Christians sung hymns in the background. The worst was when they said they'd pray for us.

God be with you, the man would tell my Dad.

Thanks, Dad would answer, head lowered, and then pull me back out to the parking lot.

When I asked him if God was real, all he said was that if he is, then he must be deaf. I could never imagine him praying.

"Shane," Herschel says.

The man besides me startles slightly.

"Will you speak for Otis?"

Speak for a dead man?

He stiffens as everybody turns their gazes on him.

"I... I'm not good at this." He says quietly, clearing his throat; shaking his head. I think if he could run away, he would. "I'm sorry."

"You were the last one with him." Patricia insists. "You shared his final moments."

He stares at her, mouth open but no words coming out. It reminds me of that far-away look he had last night when he returned alone. This is not the Shane I know. Who am I kidding, my Dad once said to Shane, You always got somethin' you wanna say. Not right now, he don't.

"Please." Patricia says, stepping forward.

The uncomfortable silence persists.

"I need to hear." She begs. "I need to know his death had meaning."

Rick's still staring at him, more intensely than the rest. You better say something, the look says, You better not mess this up.

Shane licks his lips, and glancing down at me is the thing that finally pushes him to speak.

"Okay." He concedes, nodding to himself. A weak breeze sails through the leaves above us as he speaks, and there's something about the way his eyes shift from person to person and the way his clasped hands twitch that give me the sense he's making it up as he goes. "We were about to reach the main building," He tells us. "We were down to pistols by then. I was limping. The dead; closin' in. It was... Things weren't looking good. 'The supplies are in there.' You see, that's what he said. To me. 'You have to get them. You have to save that poor girl's Dad.' He gave me his backpack. He gave me his rifle. 'Run. I'll cover you,' He said. I had no choice. I ran. When I looked back..."

I did it, is all I can remember him saying last night, I did it, I did it.

Did what?

"He died thinking of Daryl." He sticks his chin up. "He died giving him a chance."

He died for nothing, is what he really means to say.

Maggie looks down at her boots, holding Patricia's shaking hand.

"I might not've been able to... find the supplies," He gulps, taking a deep breath, "But I made it out alive. And I owe that all to Otis."

A sob breaks out amongst us.

"If any death ever had meaning, it was his."

"Amen."

"Amen," We all say.

I don't remember much about the people at our church, but I do remember them saying, to lie is to rot oneself from the inside out with sin.

When I glance up at Shane, I find him already looking right back at me.

The funeral ends.

On our way back up the hill, we hear car engines approaching.

"I'm guessing this is the right Green farm, then?" Dale says through his open window, bringing the RV to a crawl alongside us. Behind him, the remainder of our group rounds him and continues driving up the road. Maggie opens the gate for them. "Beautiful out this way, huh?"

"Hey, Dale." I smile lightly. "Ya made it."

"Hop in. I'll give you a ride up."

He brakes long enough to let me climb in, and as I sit next to him in the passenger seat, he starts it back up again.

"What are you all doing so far from the house?"

I don't bother buckling my seatbelt. It's only a short drive.

"We had a funeral." I tell him, "For this man named Otis. He died last night."

"What happened?" He frowns. "Is your Dad alright?"

"Yeah, he— He's inside right now. Glenn's giving him blood. He ain't really supposed to be doin' it, though. He's gonna get sick, but he says he don't care. There's nobody else who can do it. Actually, what type of blood do you have?" When he regretfully says he doesn't know, I continue. "Well, Shane, and that man, Otis, they were meant to come back with some more last night, but somethin' went wrong. Only Shane made it back."

Maggie waves us through and closes the gate behind us.

"I heard Rick wants to go back." I say. "To the college. Today. He thinks he'll find what my Dad needs."

Dale nods. "That woman said he got shot."

"Yeah. In the stomach." I exhale thinly, fiddling with my fingernails. "It's... S'real bad."

"It wasn't Shane?"

"Huh?"

"It wasn't Shane who shot him?"

I think it's telling that that's Dale's first assumption. Hell, I think it was everyone's, but now I don't know what to think.

"Apparently not." I shake my head. "Apparently it was Otis. A huntin' accident, Rick says."

"Hunting accident?"

"He wasn't there when it happened. He an' Glenn just came across the farm while lookin' and knocked on the door. Shane's said nothin'."

Dale glances at me. "That's unlike him."

I don't know what else to say to that besides, yeah, 'cause I got no idea how Shane's mind works. I know he's smart. I know he's good with words. He's everything Rick is, but amplified, and he's good at makin' people not realize it — 'cause he's also good at hiding things.

Dale brings the RV to a stop under a tall tree near the house.

"Just be careful, Harley." He looks me in the eye when he says this. "Be careful with Shane. You're a smart girl. I think you can figure out why."

No. No, I'm done figuring things out.

Shane is my friend, and Shane cares for me, and I need him right now. That's all that matters.

If that's not a smart thing to say, then I guess I must be dumb, but at least I'm not hurt. I never wanna be hurt again.

"Whatever," I mumble, rising from my seat.

I know I'll feel bad about it later, but I slam the door when I leave.

"Are you sure about this?"

As soon as we make it back to the house, Rick tells everyone he's going back to the college. Andrea offers to go with him to watch his back, and Herschel reluctantly writes up another list of medical supplies and pills for them to look for. He hands it to Rick, who quickly reads it over.

"I'm sure." He replies, folding the list into his pocket. "I couldn't be surer. It's a shot in the dark, but we gotta do it."

"The surgical labs?" Andrea asks. "That's where we'll find what we need?"

"Yes," Herschel sighs, looking unconfident. "If not there, then the storage rooms. It sounds like it's all overrun, though, Rick."

He shakes his head. "We've dealt with worse."

Carol leaves the room, a hand over her mouth. She wants Rick to keep searching for Sophia, but this is taking priority right now.

"Didn't Shane say there was nothin' left?" T-Dog butts in, confused. "I mean, he came back with nothin'."

"No." Rick says. "We don't know why that happened. If I had to guess, I'd say he had to retreat after Otis... After Otis passed."

"Man, he couldn't just double back?"

He scoffs, picking up the bags. "I don't know. I don't know what happened. All we can do is try again."

"Remember, I can only use O negative blood." Herschel raises his brows. "Nothing else."

"O negative. Got it."

"Be careful."

"We always are."

I watch the bullet roll around.

Herschel put it in a little plastic container after the surgery last night. So, this is what almost killed him, then. When I was littler, I used to think my Dad was invincible. I thought nothing could ever bring my big, strong Dad down, but it turns out it can, and it don't even gotta be bigger than my pinkie finger to do it, either. This tiny little bud of golden metal put my Dad on his death bed.

I'm watching the sun bounce off its curves when I hear footsteps approaching in the grass.

When I look up, I see Shane, alone, pointing to the picnic bench I'm sitting at.

"This seat taken by any chance?"

Be careful with Shane, Dale told me.

"No," I tell him, setting the bullet down. "You can sit 'ere."

He takes a seat beside me and asks, "What're you doin' fiddling with that thing?"

"I don't know." I smile, feeling a little silly. "I's just lookin' at it."

"Well, how 'bout this? I got somethin' better for you to do."

He lifts up the small bag he brought with him onto the table.

"What that?"

"You didn't think I forgot about our deal, right?" He grins, scattering the contents in front of us. A sketch pad with a unicorn on the cover falls out first, and then a bunch of rainbow markers, pencils, and even some craft glue and sparkly sequins. "Borrowed it all from that girl, Beth."

I laugh, probably for the first time in days. "Woah, Shane!"

"Better than that scummy old bullet, huh?" He nudges me, opening the book to a blank page. "Not sure I'm any good, but I'll try my best."

"What do you wanna draw?"

"Anything you want."

"Let's..." My first thought is a card for my Dad, but that's stupid. Shane don't wanna make that. "Um..."

"Can't make up yer mind?"

"No, it's just— I wanna make somethin' for my Dad."

Surprisingly, he doesn't react the way I expected.

"'Course ya do, sweetheart. Come on, then. I'll help you."

"Really?"

"Anything you want. That's what I said, right?"

"Okay, then." I giggle, copying him as he grabs a marker and uncaps it. "His favorite color's black, but that's ugly. Let's do flowers."

"Yes, ma'am."

"A field of flowers." I enthuse. "And a walker in the middle, but dead, 'cause Dad killed it."

"He's real good at that, huh?"

"Yep."

"Alright, then. You're gonna have to walk me through it, though, 'cause I don't know what I'm doin' here."

Laughing, I get started in pointing out all the places I think flowers would look best on the page, picking out which colors to use, like green for the grass and yellow for the sun. Shane goes along with all of it, just happy to be spending time with me. I really don't get what Dale's talkin' about. I even teach him how to draw a flower. My Dad's never colored with me, before. We never did things like that. He'd rather take me on a hike, or skip stones with me at the local playground pond. When I drew him pictures, he'd put 'em on the fridge and tell me they're nice, but that's about it.

I think it's awful nice of Shane to be making this card for my Dad. I guess he's decided to put their differences aside for a minute.

"Thanks for not tellin' me no." I say, filling in a petal. "I thought you were gonna."

"'No' to makin' your Dad a card?"

"Yeah."

"Why's that?"

Shane always does this. He asks questions he already knows the answer to, 'cause he wants to see what you say.

"I'on know," I shrug, shy; a little embarrassed. "I don't think you like him very much."

"No?"

"No. You punched him."

He hums.

I continue. "And you think he's mean."

"Yeah? Why's he mean?"

"He, like, yells sometimes." I mutter, focusing on coloring. "He gets angry."

He just hums again.

"And you don't like him 'cause he hits me, and you think he shouldn't do that. You think he's a bad Dad."

He corrects me. "I don't think he knows how to be a Dad at all, Harley."

"What about you? D'you know?"

There ain't nobody that teaches you this shit, Harley, my Dad once told me, You think you came outta the womb with a manual attached?

"Well, I've never had a kid, before, Harley." He tells me. "That was always Rick's thing. We used to go to school together, you know that? Kindergarten, all the way up to police academy. When Carl was born, I used to think about havin' my own, but it just never happened."

"Why not?"

"Kids are a lot of responsibility. I wasn't ready for that."

"What about now?"

"Am I ready for a kid?"

"Yeah."

He glances at me, then back to the paper, but doesn't answer.

I look up at him. "What is it?"

He nods at the packet of sequins.

"You wanna have a go stickin' them on?"

I pause. Yeah, I guess I can have a go.

"Dad don't like glitter, though."

"It's a gift from his daughter." Shane scoffs. "He can deal with it."

"You like glitter?"

"Can't say I'm a huge fan, but if you gave me a glittered-up card, it'd be my favorite thing I owned. I can promise you that."

That makes me smile. "I can make you one, if you want."

"Nah, that's okay, sweetheart. This is all 'bout your Dad, right now."

I smear a whole lotta glue on the corners of the page, sprinkling the little plastic pieces onto it after.

"Rick's gone back to the college." I muse. "And Andrea. They're gonna find blood and medicine for my Dad."

Shane shifts uncomfortably on the bench. That's what he was supposed to do. He failed. Now, other people have to make up for what he did, and if they come back with even one thing from the list, that's gonna look real bad for him. Not only did he get someone killed, but he did it for nothin'.

"Rick's tough. Andrea, she's a good enough shot." He clears his throat. "They'll make it back in one piece."

"I just hope they don't get caught in that herd like you and Otis."

Apparently, they got swarmed. Easy to believe, given the hundreds of walkers been followin' us down this way.

"They won't be. They're smart."

I joke, "You sayin' you were dumb?"

"Hey," He smirks. "Watch yourself."

"I'm just sayin'. How come you let yourself get surrounded?"

"Happens fast, Harley. You know that."

Sure happened fast on the highway.

"Must'a been awful." I frown. "All them walkers... Otis."

"Had to happen." Shane shrugs.

"I know. But he still died, Shane. Don't matter what for."

"You don't think it matters to his family?"

"Well, yeah, but not to us. Dead is dead, and dead's awful. You don't gotta pretend."

He shakes his head, like I just don't get it.

"No. No, if I could go back in time, Harley, I wouldn't change a thing."

I glance at him, then. His jaw is set tight as he scribbles a red blotch onto the page, staring into its chaotic epicentre. If he said that to any of the Greenes, oh, they would'a slapped him. You're supposed to be sad when someone dies. Shane looked a little down at the funeral, but now he just looks angry. I wanna warn him he's gonna tear a hole in the page if he presses down any harder, but the words get stuck in my throat.

"I don't think you should tell anyone else that." I murmur, awkward. "Especially not Patricia."

He don't stop 'till the pencil nib snaps.

"Damn it." He mumbles, tossing it.

I did it, was all he kept sayin', I did it.

"What'd you mean, last night, anyway?"

"Huh? What did what mean?"

"I did it." I quote. "You just kept chantin' it, over and over. What's it mean? What'd you do?"

He turns his glare onto me.

"You sure I said that?"

I think back to that moment. Yeah. Yeah, I'm sure.

I nod.

"I don't remember." He disagrees. "I was all outta sorts that night. Still am, to be honest."

"But you said it. I heard you."

"Well, I'd just escaped Hell on Earth, Harley. I barely made it out alive. I drove back here like a crazy man; just watched a man get eaten alive. 'Course I'm gonna be shocked I made it; shocked I did it. That's all I meant. Ain't nothin' to stress over."

I sigh. "Are you sure?"

"I ever lied to you?"

"I don't think so."

"Well, there you go."

It's only now I notice Dale on the roof of the RV. He's supposed to be on watch, but the only thing he's watchin' is us. I choose to ignore him in favor of finishing the get well soon card, hating the stiff silence that follows.

My eyes eventually wonder over to the container, and the stubby bullet inside.

I begin to frown.

Wait a minute.

Hunting accident, was what Rick told everyone.

"Shane, what type of bullet is that?" I ask, even though I already know.

Beside me, he stops coloring so abruptly that it's like I just electrocuted him.

Now I'm really lookin' at it, I can't believe it took me this long to notice.

"Harley," He says when he sees what I'm staring at. "Harley, I can explain."

I don't wanna hear it.

I know what type of bullet that is.

"Harley, wait."

It didn't come from no damn hunting rifle.

That's a pistol bullet.

I slam the door shut.

"Woah, hey. What's going on?" Glenn asks, slumped in a chair beside Dad's bed. "What's wrong?"

"Get out." I whimper, shaking my head. I go straight for the window; yank the curtains shut so hard they screech. "Get out, Glenn."

"Why? What's—?"

"Just fucking get out!"

He jumps up at that, and I only see a glimpse of him scurrying out the door before I dive onto the bed, crying and hiccupping and groaning angrily as I lift the covers. I curl up underneath them, into my Dad's side. It wasn't a rifle bullet. It was a pistol bullet. It wasn't Otis. It was Shane. My friend, have-I-ever-lied-to-you Shane. He shot my Dad and then he lied to my face about it, all while making a card that wouldn't even exist if it weren't for him in the first place. I hugged him. He hugged me back. I cried on him. I don't want my Daddy to die, I wailed, but it was him that did it.

The door opens just minutes later. I hear his combat boots thumping as he runs around the side of the bed.

"Get away from me." I try hitting him through the blankets, but he just pulls them off and grabs me. "Fuck off! I knew it was you!"

"Harley." He shakes his head. "Harley, ssh, ssh, ssh."

"You lied to me—"

"No, no, no, ssh, ssh, ssh."

"Don't tell me to shush!" I snarl, batting at him. "You— You— You shot my—!"

"No." He shakes me. "No, I didn't. Harley, I didn't."

"Yes, you did!"

"No." He growls, glancing at the door, then back to me. "Listen to me very carefully, Harley Dixon. I did not shoot your Dad."

"No? Then who's damn bullet was that?!"

"Keep your voice down."

"Who's was it?"

"Jim's, Harley. Jim's." His eyes are wide; some type of crazy in 'em as he really drills this into me, almost whispering, but also shouting at the same time. "Remember that day you came back, told everyone what happened? You gave me exact directions on how to get to that guy's camp, remember? Follow the creek, left at the big rock, go through the trees 'till you hit an old fence post. See? You told me that. I remembered. Your Dad wanted to go kill him. First time I ever saw eye to eye with that man, and I gave him the location, and we left together, Harley. Together."

I keep shaking my head, but Shane's lip curls.

"Yes. Yes. Listen to me. We left together and we found his camp. Green tent, right? Music playing?"

H-H-How's he know that?

"Wh—?"

"He wasn't there, but his tracks were. Your Dad followed 'em. We found him in a house, damn near starved to death. He was beggin' us to spare him some of ours 'till he clocked our faces. He was mad. Real mad. Hell, I would be, too, if I got tied up and left for dead. He did it. Jim shot your Dad."

"You're lying." I pull a face of disgust. "You're lying, I know it."

"Yeah? Yeah, how you know?"

"'Cause Dale says I gotta be careful around you. And Rick pretty much don't even believe you, neither! He's basically your brother!"

"To Hell with Dale." He shrugs, shaking his head and grinning, like this is no big deal. "And Rick — Rick's an idiot. You know that."

"When we heard the shot, he said it was you! He said that, in front of everyone!"

"Well, he was wrong. It was Jim."

"Then why'd you go and tell everyone it was Otis, huh?"

"Well, I— It's—"

"Just get outta my face, Shane." I shudder, pulling the covers back over my head, hiding away. "I don't wanna be your friend, anymore. Get out."

I don't care if it was Jim, or Shane, or the damn Easter bunny who shot him, at this point — I just wanna be alone. I don't know what to believe. Like I said, Shane's smart, so he don't push his luck. He leaves almost right away, closing me away in my own den of grief with a soft click of the door. I hear him talking to everyone out there, probably explaining everything away like he can so easily do. I'm emotional, he'll say, Just leave it.

When I pop my head back up, I spot the card sitting on the side table.

Get well soon, it says.

In a fit of rage, I snatch it up and I rip it to pieces.

It falls to the floor like confetti.

Rick and Andrea come back while I'm eating dinner on the porch.

It's soup that Maggie made for me — Potato and leek. Someone must've told her my favorite kind — 'cause it turns out I was right. Shane did tell everyone I was upset. Apparently, the funeral was just too much for me, on top of everything else. I'm too sad to be angry about that, 'cause it just proves that he really is a liar, after all. I set the bowl down as they pull up to the house, and Maggie and her Dad come out the front door as soon as they hear the car engine, cautiously excited for the news we're about to get. Maggie helps me out of the chair, rubbing my shoulders.

The car door shuts. We not only see Rick and Andrea, alive and well, but also two big, full bags on their shoulders.

"We got everything." He calls out to us, smiling. "Every last thing."

My jaw drops.

"Praise God." Herschel mutters.

Maggie grins down at me. "You hear that, Harley?"

"Y—" I smile wide. "Yeah."

She leaves my side to help Andrea bring the bags up the stairs.

"The penicillin?" Herschel shakes his head. "The gauze, the syringes, the disinfectant?"

"All of it." Says Rick. "Even threw in some reception desk candy, too, just 'cause we could."

"That's incredible. How?"

"Place was deserted." Andrea tells us. "We only had to take out five or six before we were the only ones around. Surgical labs, just like you said."

"Praise God," He says again. "I'll start re-dressing the wound right now."

"Here you go."

Rick passes him the bag, and everyone else goes back inside as he leans against the railing. Behind him, the sun cinematically sinks in the sky.

I sit back down.

I can't believe they did it.

"Thank you, Rick."

He looks a little sad when I say this, but happy, at the same time.

"You're welcome, Harley. You're very welcome."

For the first time ever, I'm alone with Rick and all I feel is peace.

Author's Note.

Daryl still hasn't woken up. I'm sorryyyyy 🙏He will, very soon. I promise! I'll try to make it everything you're hoping for and more :) Things are gonna be different between Harley and Daryl from now on.

(AKA not depressing.)

Shane's still manipulative as ever. Boo to him.

I really hope you enjoyed this chapter. Sending lots of love! :)

#the walking dead #twd #twd fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #daryl dixon daughter #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon #daddy issues #parent daryl dixon #rick grimes #shane walsh #angst #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #reader

12 notes · View notes

frmartinshomiliesandreflections · 20 days

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6th April >> Fr. Martin’s Reflections / Homilies on Today’s Mass Readings for Easter Saturday (Inc. Mark 16:9-15): ‘Proclaim the good news to all creation’.

Easter Saturday

Gospel (Except USA)

Mark 16:9-15

Go out to the whole world and proclaim the Good News.

Having risen in the morning on the first day of the week, Jesus appeared first to Mary of Magdala from whom he had cast out seven devils. She then went to those who had been his companions, and who were mourning and in tears, and told them. But they did not believe her when they heard her say that he was alive and that she had seen him.

After this, he showed himself under another form to two of them as they were on their way into the country. These went back and told the others, who did not believe them either.

Lastly, he showed himself to the Eleven themselves while they were at table. He reproached them for their incredulity and obstinacy, because they had refused to believe those who had seen him after he had risen. And he said to them, ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation.’

Gospel (USA)

Mark 16:9–15

Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.

When Jesus had risen, early on the first day of the week, he appeared first to Mary Magdalene, out of whom he had driven seven demons. She went and told his companions who were mourning and weeping. When they heard that he was alive and had been seen by her, they did not believe.

After this he appeared in another form to two of them walking along on their way to the country. They returned and told the others; but they did not believe them either.

But later, as the Eleven were at table, he appeared to them and rebuked them for their unbelief and hardness of heart because they had not believed those who saw him after he had been raised. He said to them, “Go into the whole world and proclaim the Gospel to every creature.”

Reflections (12)

(i) Easter Saturday

There is a focus in today’s gospel reading on the refusal of the disciples to believe the report of some of their group that Jesus had appeared to them. They did not believe Mary Magdalene or the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. It was only when the risen Lord appeared to them himself that they believed he had been raised from the dead. Once Jesus had been crucified, the disciples never expected to see him again. The news from others that he was alive was too good to be true. Perhaps we are all a little like the first disciples. We find it easier to believe that Jesus was crucified than that he was raised from the dead. It often seems that the dominant symbol of Christianity is the crucified Jesus rather than the risen Jesus. We tend to have far more images of the crucified Jesus in our churches than of the risen Jesus. Yet, the good news that Jesus is risen is at the core of our faith. As Saint Paul, to whom the risen Lord appeared, says in one of his letters, ‘if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain’. We can also say that if Christ had not been raised, then the disciples who had gone into hiding after the crucifixion of Jesus would never have been seen again. Instead, they became enthusiastic and courageous proclaimers of the gospel of Christ crucified and risen. In today’s first reading, when the Jewish leaders gave Peter and John a stern warning never to teach in the name of Jesus again, they replied, ‘We cannot promise to stop proclaiming what we have seen and heard’. Christ is risen and is alive among us and within us. This is the good news of Easter we are asked to believe in and make our own. It is such good news that the church gives us seven weeks to reflect upon it and absorb it. Just as Lent lasted seven weeks, the Easter season lasts seven weeks, from Easter Sunday to Pentecost Sunday. As we absorb the good news of Easter during this time, we can come to say with Saint Paul, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me’, and we can enter more fully into our Easter calling to bring Christ to others by our lives.

And/Or

(ii) Easter Saturday

The gospel reading this morning suggests that those who had spent time with Jesus, his companions, his closest disciples, were slow to believe the good news of Easter when it was proclaimed to them. Mary Magdalene went to Jesus’ companions to share her wonderful experience of meeting the risen Lord and they refused to believe her. The two disciples on the road to Emmaus went to the other disciples to share the wonderful news of their meeting with the risen Lord and their story was not believed. It was as if those closest to Jesus were in such a dark place that they were incapable of hearing news that Jesus was not dead but alive. Finally, according to our gospel reading, the risen Lord showed himself to his closest companions, reproaching them for their refusal to believe what others had said to them. It took the Lord himself to move his disciples from unbelief to belief. Yet, the Lord kept faith with them; having appeared to them he sent them out as messengers of the good news of Easter. Their initial refusal to believe did not disqualify them from the mission Jesus intended for them. We can find ourselves in a place where we seem incapable of hearing the good news that the Lord is risen, that life is stronger than death and love stronger than sin. Yet, the Lord never gives up on us. He continues to come towards us until our eyes are opened. He continues to believe in us, even when we do not believe in him. Even though the Lord may initially have met with resistance, he continues to hold out to us the privilege of proclaiming by our words and our lives the good news of Easter.

And/Or

(iii) Easter Saturday

In this morning’s gospel reading the disciples refuse to believe when Mary Magdalene comes to them and tells them that she had seen the Lord. They refuse to believe again when two disciples who had been on their way into the country tell them that they had seen the Lord. Eventually the Lord himself appears to the disciples and reproaches them for their failure to believe those who had seen him. It seems that nobody, not even Jesus’ closest associates, was prepared to believe that he had risen from the dead unless they could see him for themselves. They struggled to bring themselves to believe such good news. We can be more prone to believing bad news than good news. We too can doubt the reports of others contained within the New Testament that the Lord has risen. We can be as incredulous and obstinate as the first disciples. Yet every Easter the Lord calls out to us to believe that he is risen, with all that this good news implies for us. Easter is the season when we allow ourselves to be touched by the almost unbelievable good news that the Lord is alive and that we are destined to share in his risen life, not only beyond this earthly life but in the course of it.

And/Or

(iv) Easter Saturday

There is a striking contrast between the way that the disciples are portrayed in this morning’s gospel reading and how they are portrayed in the first reading. In the gospel reading the disciples refuse to believe Mary Magdalene and the two disciples who had left Jerusalem for Emmaus when these three people told them that Jesus was alive and had appeared to them. When Jesus himself appeared to his disbelieving disciples, he rebuked them for their refusal to believe those who had who witnessed to his resurrection. In spite of their initial failure to believe, Jesus commissions them to go out and proclaim the good news of Easter to all creation. That is precisely what we find the disciples doing in the first reading. From being people who refused to believe the Easter gospel, we now find them proclaiming that gospel with conviction and with great courage. The religious leaders in Jerusalem forbade them to preach the gospel of Jesus but the disciples, uneducated as they were, stood up to them and declared to them that they cannot stop proclaiming what they have seen and heard. The disciples are a living sign of how people can change through the power of the risen Lord. Jesus was transformed through his resurrection from the dead and he had a transforming effect on others. The same risen Lord can have a transforming effect on all of us. If we are open to his presence, he can do for us what he did for the disciples, transforming our doubt and disbelief into a faith that is public and courageous.

And/Or

(v) Easter Saturday

In this morning’s gospel reading the disciples refuse to believe when Mary Magdalene comes to them and told them that she had seen the Lord. They refuse to believe again when two disciples who had been on their way into the country tell them that they had seen the Lord. Eventually the Lord himself appears to the disciples and reproaches them for their failure to believe those who had seen him. It seems that nobody, not even Jesus’ closest associates, was prepared to believe that he had risen from the dead unless they could see him for themselves. Only then was their incredulity and obstinacy overcome. Unlike those first disciples, we have no option but to believe that the Lord has risen on the basis of the reports of others. The Lord will not appear to us as he appeared to his original disciples. In John’s gospel Jesus declares blessed those who believe without having seen him, in the way the original disciples saw him. That beatitude embraces all of us here this morning, all who believe without having seen. We believe on the basis of those who have seen the Lord, something the original disciples were very slow to do. The beatitude suggests that we who believe without having seen are no less privileged than those who believed on the basis of seeing the Lord for themselves. The beatitude seems to suggest that we are more blessed in some ways because of our willingness to believe without having seen. Yet, although we may not have seen the Lord, we experience his presence in a variety of ways, in and through his word, the sacraments, especially the Eucharist, and in and through each other, the members of his body.

And/Or

(vi) Easter Saturday

Today’s gospel has a focus on the unwillingness of the disciples to initially believe the Easter story. Mary of Magdala went to them to announce that the risen Lord had appeared to her, and they did not believe her. Two of the disciples went to the other disciples to announce that the risen Lord had appeared to them and their story was not believed either. Jesus himself finally appeared to those who had refused to believe the story of Mary of Magdala or the story of the two disciples and rebuked them for their reluctance to believe those who had seen the risen Lord. The gospel reading suggests that the disciples were very slow to believe the news that Jesus had risen from the dead, until the risen Lord himself appeared to them. Nothing less than a personal appearance of the risen Lord to them would bring them to Easter faith. It is evident that Jesus’ closest associates did not expect him to rise from the dead and had great difficulty in really believing it. However, the first reading shows that once the risen Lord appeared to them and they knew in their hearts that the Lord had risen from the dead, nothing would stop them from proclaiming this wonderful news. When the Jewish authorities warned them to make no further statements about Jesus, the disciples stood their ground, ‘We cannot promise to stop proclaiming what we have seen and heard’. Once doubt and incredulity gave way to Easter faith, after the Lord appeared to them, their faith was unshakable. It is because of their eventual, unshakable, faith and their courage in proclaiming it that we are here today to celebrate our Easter faith. The risen Lord has touched all our lives through the preaching of those eye witnesses of the risen Lord, and for this we give thanks.

And/Or

(vii) Easter Saturday

Today’s gospel reading is often referred to as the longer ending of Mark’s gospel. It was probably added to the end of Mark’s gospel by someone other than Mark, to bring Mark’s gospel more into line with the ending of the other gospels. This passage consists of a summary of the appearances of the risen Lord that are to be found in the other three gospels. There is mention there of Jesus’ appearance to Mary Magdalene, which is found in the gospel of John, of Jesus’ appearances to two disciples, which is found in Luke, and of Jesus’ appearance to the disciples as a group, which is to be found in Luke and John. The mission the risen Lord gives to the disciples at the end of the reading, ‘Go out to the whole world…’ reminds us of the commission the risen Lord gives to the disciples at the end of Matthew’s gospel, ‘Go make disciples of all the nations’. Why did some early scribe think it necessary to make this addition to the ending of Mark? Probably because the way Mark had ended his gospel seemed very unsatisfactory to him and to many others in the early church, ‘So they (the women) went out and fled from the tomb, for terror and amazement had seized them; and they said nothing to anyone, for they were afraid’. Why, people must have wondered, end a gospel on this note of fear-filled silence? Mark was sensitive to human failure and, in particular, to the failure of Jesus’ disciples, including the women disciples who had been more faithful to Jesus than their male companions. Yet, he was all the more sensitive to the Lord’s faithfulness to his failing disciples. Mark and his readers knew that the risen Lord met his failing disciples in Galilee, where he renewed their call. Even in today’s gospel reading, the failure of the disciples is in evidence. They refused to believe either Mary Magdalene or the two disciples when they said that they had seen the risen Lord. Yet, it was to these somewhat obstinate disciples that Jesus entrusted his world-wide mission. The Lord continues to call us, weak as we are, to share in his work of proclaiming the Easter gospel.

And/Or

(viii) Easter Saturday

There are many examples both in the past and in the present of people in power and authority seeking to silence those whose public utterances are considered a threat. The spoken or written word can often be experienced as dangerous by those who have a vested interest in preserving the status quo. In today’s first reading from the Acts of the Apostles, the religious leaders attempt to silence the preaching of Peter and John, ‘they gave them a warning on no account to make statements or to teach in the name of Jesus’. The pressure by those in authority to silence those considered dissidents does not always meet with success. Courageous people who know they have truth and right on their side can continue to speak out, in spite of the pressure to do otherwise. In our first reading, Peter and John show such courage. They refuse to be silenced, declaring to those who try to silence them, ‘We cannot promise to stop proclaiming what we have seen and heard’. Peter and John recognized that they were subject to a higher authority than the authority of the religious leaders and that was the authority of God, saying to the religious leaders, ‘you must judge whether in God’s eyes it is right to listen to you and not to God’. They were clear that they must listen to God, and God was calling them to proclaim the gospel of Jesus. Peter and John can be an inspiration to us all to be courageous in our own witness to our faith, in spite of pressure to be silent. At the end of the gospel reading, the risen Lord says to his disciples, ‘Go out to the whole world; proclaim the good news to all creation’. We have all received that same commission, to proclaim the good news by what we say and above all by the way we live. If we turn towards the Lord, he will give us the courage to be faithful to that commission, just as he gave courage to Peter and John.

And/Or

(ix) Easter Saturday

In today’s gospel reading, the evangelist Mark gives us a list of some of the appearances of the risen Lord to his disciples. He mentions the Lord’s appearance to Mary Magdalene, his appearance to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus, and his appearance to the Eleven disciples in the setting of a meal. A fuller account of these appearances are to be found in the other gospels. There were many other appearances of the risen Lord, according to the gospels, and according to the earliest witness to the appearances, the apostle Paul. He lists in his first letter to the Corinthians the Lord’s appearances to Peter, and to the Twelve, to more than 500 of the brothers and sisters at the same time, to James, to all the apostles, and, finally, to himself, on the road to Damascus. The tradition of the appearances of the risen Jesus to his followers was an inspiration to the early church, including those who did not have such a privileged experience. The Lord’s appearances to so many remains an inspiration to us all. It was those appearances which allowed the first disciples to understand why the tomb of Jesus was empty on the third day after his crucifixion. It was empty because he had been raised to a new and glorious life, in which his body was transformed. According to today’s gospel reading, when Mary Magdalene told the other disciples that the Lord had appeared to her, they did not believe her, and when the two disciples told the other disciples that the Lord had met them on the road to Emmaus, they did not believe them either. When the Lord himself appeared to this wider group of disciples, he reproached them for refusing to believe these reports. Sometimes good news can be harder to believe than bad news. This Easter we are invited to renew our faith in the good news of Easter. The Lord is risen from the dead. He thereby reveals to us our own ultimate destiny, which is to share in his risen life beyond this earthly life. As risen Lord, he is also present with us throughout our earthly life, empowering us to live in the same self-giving way as he did, the way that leads through death to new life.

And/Or

(x) Easter Saturday

In today’s first reading, the religious leaders are concerned to stop ‘the whole thing spreading any further among the people’. ‘The whole thing’ refers to the preaching of the gospel by Peter, John and others and the favourable response of people to their preaching. However, the religious leaders were fighting a losing battle. The Lord had been raised from the dead; he was on the loose and they could do nothing about it. He had poured out his Spirit upon his followers and in the power of the Spirit they were proclaimed the good news of Jesus’ life, death and resurrection, and they couldn’t be stopped. As Peter says in the reading, ‘We cannot promise to stop proclaiming what we have seen and heard’. The gospel reading suggests that initially Jesus’ closest disciples struggled to believe the gospel that God’s love had overcome human hatred by raising his Son from the dead. They did not believe Mary Magdalene when she told them what she had seen and heard, nor did they believe the two disciples who had set out for Emmaus when they told them what they had seen and heard. It was only when the risen Lord appeared to them and they saw and heard for themselves that they believed in the Easter gospel. Then they responded enthusiastically to the Lord’s call to ‘go out to the whole world; proclaim the Good News to all creation’, which is what we find Peter and John doing in today’s first reading. Having met the risen Lord themselves, no human authority could stop them proclaiming what they had seen and heard. The life-giving power of the risen Lord at work in and through his followers could not be contained or controlled by either religious or political authorities. Easter cannot be cancelled in any time or place. The risen Lord will continue to work in us and through us if we give him the opportunity. The efforts of some to ‘stop the whole thing spreading’ will always be in vain. When it comes to the risen Lord, there is no stopping him.

And/Or

(xi) Easter Saturday

The impression today’s gospel reading gives is that the first disciples found it very difficult to believe reports that Jesus who had been crucified was now alive. When Jesus appeared to Mary Magdalene and she went and told the disciples what had happened, they were in such deep mourning that they did not believe her. When Jesus appeared to the two disciples on the road to Emmaus and they went and told the disciples their news, they did not believe them either. It was only when the risen Lord appeared to the group of disciples themselves that they finally believed that Jesus who was crucified was now living with a new quality of life. On that occasion, the risen Lord rebuked them for refusing to believe the witness of those to whom he had appeared. We are asked to do what the original disciples failed to do, to believe that Jesus is risen on the basis of the witness of those to whom the risen Lord appeared. We find this witness in the gospels and in the letters of Paul. Our belief in the risen Lord is also based on his coming to us personally. He may not appear to us in the way he appeared to the first disciples, but he touches our own lives in a very personal way. We are to belief on the basis of the written testimony of the first eye witnesses, and on the basis of our own personal experience of the risen Lord’s presence in our lives. The risen Lord who comes to us sends us out in the same way he sent out the disciples in today’s gospel reading, to ‘proclaim the good news (of Easter) to all creation’.

And/Or

(xii) Easter Saturday

There is a focus in today’s gospel reading on the refusal of the disciples to believe the report of some of their group that Jesus had appeared to them. They did not believe Mary Magdalene or the two disciples on the road to Emmaus. It was only when the risen Lord appeared to them himself that they believed he had been raised from the dead. Once Jesus had been crucified, the disciples never expected to see him again. The news that he was alive was too good to be true. Perhaps we are all a little like the first disciples. We find it easier to believe that Jesus was crucified than that he was raised from the dead. It often seems that the dominant symbol of Christianity is the crucified Jesus rather than the risen Jesus. We tend to have far more images of the crucified Jesus in our churches than of the risen Jesus. Yet, the good news that Jesus is risen is at the core of our faith. As Saint Paul, to whom the risen Lord appeared, says in one of his letters, ‘if Christ has not been raised, then our proclamation has been in vain and your faith has been in vain’. We can also say that if Christ had not been raised, then the apostles who had gone into hiding after the crucifixion of Jesus would never have been seen again. Instead, they became enthusiastic and courageous proclaimers of the gospel of Christ crucified and risen. In today’s first reading, when the Jewish leaders gave Peter and John a stern warning never to teach in the name of Jesus again, they replied, ‘We cannot promise to stop proclaiming what we have seen and heard’. Christ is risen and is alive among us and within us. This is the good news of Easter we are asked to believe in and make our own. It is such good news that the church gives us seven weeks to reflect upon it and absorb it. Just as Lent lasted seven weeks, the Easter season lasts seven weeks, from Easter Sunday to Pentecost Sunday. As we absorb the good news of Easter during this time, we can come to say with Saint Paul, ‘It is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me’.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

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