#wtb react

[veirsewrites]

how hard would it be to get eddie to dress up using a tacky werewolf costume consisting of a suit and a mask

A saga to other people controlling what Eddie wears lol

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say.”

“Fine. What?”

Halley reveals a fuzzy mask and body suit from behind her back. “I need you to wear this.”

“No.”

“Don’t make me get MC in here.”

Eddie scoffs, “do it, see if anything changes.”

—

“You have to wear the suit.”

“I actually don’t.”

“Eddie,” you cross your arms, “think of the kids.”

“What kids? Halley and Kade?”

Your eyebrow twitches, “wear the suit, coward.”

Eddie leans across their desk and leers, “no.”

—

“Please, Eddie?” Amelie widens her eyes and blinks.

Eddie sighs, “not you too.”

“Just think of of how funny it would be, the irony!”

“I don’t believe in irony.”

“I-” Amelie pauses, “now you’re just being stubborn.” She folds the costume, fake hairs raining down from its fur, and places it on the corner of Eddie’s desk. “I won’t force you but we both know how much it would mean to everyone.”

Eddie feels the fabric of the costume, running their fingers over it and biting their lip in consideration. Suddenly, they shake their head and look at Amelie. “Seriously? A guilt trip?”

Amelie sheepishly shrugs and walks out the door.

—

“You gotta be kidding,” Eddie leans back in their chair as A takes a seat in the chair across from their desk.

A grins at the costume and then Eddie. “Look, red, we both know what’s gonna happen. So let’s just cut to the chase.”

“And what is it you thinks gonna happen?”

A stands and leans against the corner of the desk, crossing their arms and leaning in close to Eddie. “I think you’re gonna put the costume on.”

“Is that right,” Eddie glares.

A gets closer, only a few inches from Eddie’s face. “It is, wanna know why? ‘Cuz you failed to use that big pretty brain of yours.” A taps the side of Eddie’s head.

“Don’t,” Eddie growls.

Instead, A stands and walks behind Eddie to whisper into their ear. “You failed to think of the possibilities. Wearing a mask that covers your entire face means no one, besides us, will know who you are. You won’t have to talk to anyone because no one will be able to understand you.” They clap their hands onto Eddie’s shoulders, “you’ll be free to judge without judgment.”

Eddie doesn’t reply, simply watching as A walks back out the door and watching as A calls back, “think about it!”

—

Later that night a large fuzzy figure walks about the party, waving to their friends but never speaking. A scratchy head with marble eyeballs and a long furry suit with a white zipper that sticks out plainly. Guests laugh and clap at the ironic outfit and the werewolf bows graciously. As the crowd gets lost on the festivities, the werewolf makes its exit. Through the rain and the wind, the wolf walks on its two legs to the adjacent building, walking down the carpeted hallway and stopping in front of a pale blue painted door. Three soft knocks and the door opens.

The wolf takes off its mask as it waits. The door opens and Eddie stands there, smiling. Kade runs his hand through his hair, loosening the sweat soaked curls and smiles back.

“Thanks, Kade,” Eddie hands him an envelope of cash.

“Anytime, boss,” Kade opens the envelope and his eyes widen. “Anytime.”

#I had fun with this #wtb react #wtb ask

[sequinsmile-x]

Tomorrow

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough. 

The final story in the Whatever Tomorrow Brings universe.

-x-

I've felt oddly emotional about this all day, all week really. Whatever Tomorrow Brings was the first story of mine that really started to pick up readers, and whilst I will miss this universe - it feels like the right time to say goodbye. I'll still be here, writing about our favourite idiots in love, just not this version of them.

I want to say thank you to all of you! To anyone who reblogged, liked or left kudos on any part of this universe. Thank you to the silent readers, those who come back time and time again. Thank you for loving my original characters so much - Theo, and especially Amelia, became so much more because of how all of you reacted to them.

This version of them, and their family, will always be important to me, and knowing they meant something to you too means more than I can ever say.

So this is it, the end of WTB. I hope you think I've done their story justice, and that when you revisit them in the future you still enjoy their highs and lows with them.

I love you all!

Please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Words: 7.7k

Warnings: Major character death, grief, illness

Read over on A03, or below the cut.

June 2037

They hadn’t had enough time.

It’s all she can think as she stands in the home office they once shared, her eyes fixed on Aaron’s desk. 

Vascular Dementia. Two words that permeated everything in their lives for almost three years, a diagnosis that rocked their whole family, and shook them to the very core. 

Emily noticed it first. How her husband seemed to suddenly be more forgetful, easily confused in a way he never had been before. When she looks back on it she realises it had been slowly getting worse for a while, signs she had missed before it became obvious. Memories of what it was like when her mother was sick haunting her. At first, they’d assumed it was the same thing, a cruel twist of fate that took her mother and her husband from her with the same disease. She could still feel the pit in her stomach, heavy and dense, when she remembered the diagnosis, the cause the doctors assumed laid behind it. 

It was George Foyet’s last laugh. His actions still impacting their family decades after he had briefly taken Aaron from them, only to permanently do it now. The injuries he had sustained had slowly put stress on his heart throughout the years, leading to this. 

Aaron had been the one who had to calm her down once they got home from that appointment, initially letting her rant and rave, cursing a man long since dead, until she started to cry. Then he’d hugged her, held her in the embrace that had been her solace for most of her life and comforted her, like he wasn’t the one who hadn’t just been told he was dying. 

“Mom?”

She turns from where she is standing, her chest tight as she turns to face her children, all three of them just inside the door, pulled shut behind them to give them some privacy. It’s why she’d sought solace here, to begin with, strangers in their home setting it up for the wake. It was setting her on edge, her nerves already raw. 

Jack is standing with his hands in his pockets, his lips set in a firm line, a clear attempt to hold his emotions back. It makes him look so much like Aaron that her eyes sting, the seemingly endless tears making their presence known. The sight of him in a black suit sending her right back to the last time he’d buried a parent. He’d been so young then, the life he had known dead and gone with his mother. 

Theo and Amelia are bunched together, the latter with her arms wrapped tightly around her brother’s bicep, holding him close, her head against his shoulder, tears on her face that she doesn’t even try to hide. 

“The cars are here.” Theo says, his voice shaking slightly, attempting to smile at her, “we’re ready to go when you are.” 

Emily nods and throws one look back towards Aaron’s desk, left exactly as it had been when he’d last used it, and she blows out a breath as she turns to her children. 

“Let’s go, best get today over with.” She says as she steps towards them. 

Amelia breaks free from her brothers and closes the gap between her and Emily, hugging her mother as she did when she was a little girl. Seeking her comfort like she was a child, not the grown woman she now was. Emily holds her just as tightly, rubbing her hand up and down her daughter's back as she cries.

“Come on, sweetheart,” she says, encouraging Amelia to walk with her, her arm around her waist, “you know how your dad felt about tardiness.” 

They all chuckle, humourless and sad but it’s something. She guides her daughter towards the front of the house, her sons walking just behind them, and she is grateful Aaron gave her them. The family they worked so hard for. 

They could have had forever and it still wouldn’t have been enough. 

__

April 2035

“You want to do what?” She asks, venom in her voice as she stares at him, her mouth hanging open from where she sits next to him on their couch. He looks so calm it makes her even more irritated, like he hadn’t just dropped life changing news on her. He doesn’t bite, doesn’t react. He’d always been frustratingly patient with her. 

“I want to sign a DNR.” He repeats, placing his hand on her knee and squeezing the joint, his fingers attempting to press comfort into her. “I think it’s the right thing to do.” 

“The right thing to…” she blows out a breath incredulously, and she shakes her head, “how is signing something that means the doctors just let you die the right thing to do?” 

All she can think about is what they were told 6 months ago, his increased risk of heart attacks and stroke. How to look for the signs. She’d barely let him leave her sight, worried she’d come home to find him laying on the ground. Images of what had been key themes in her nightmares over the years, flashes of a blood stain on a floor in their old house, becoming a very real possibility. 

“Em,-”

“No,” she says, cutting him off. She stands up, his hand slipping from her knee, and she starts to pace the floor. 

He stands too, still calm, and It infuriates her. Makes grief settle in her lungs as she becomes hyper-aware that she could lose him at any moment. 

“Sweetheart,” he says, his hands on her shoulders as he stops her, making her look at him, “it’s only going to get worse, the doctor said we should think about it.” He wipes a tear away from her cheek that she doesn’t even realise has fallen. “I need you on board with this.”

She’s heard what he hasn’t said. He legally can’t make this decision for himself anymore. She was his medical proxy, and power of attorney had been handed over after his diagnosis. He’d already got worse, she knew that. Confused and frustrated more than he wasn’t, and she hated that they were using some of his increasingly infrequent lucid days to talk about this. 

“Aaron,” she breathes out, “how am I supposed to sign something that says I don’t want them to resuscitate you if something happens?” She doesn’t try and cover her upset, her tears freely falling, there had never been any point in doing so around him anyway. “How are you so ok with this?” 

He pulls her into a hug, his hand in her hair, holding her almost impossibly close.

“I have no other choice.”

She isn’t sure how long they stand there before she swallows thickly, the words bitter in her mouth.

“Ok, I understand.” She says, and he kisses the top of her head, and squeezes her tightly. “I’m going to miss you when you…so you’d better live for as long as possible,” she’s still crying, her words losing the humorous edge she was going for, she pulls back to look at him and sees tears in his eyes too, “Ok?”

He nods. “Ok,” he leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, “I’ll miss you too.” 

The next day he asks her where Haley is, and she has to excuse herself for a moment to pull herself together.

___

September 2008

Emily groans as she wakes up, unaware that she had fallen asleep in the first place. The first thing she is aware of, apart from the fact she’s on the couch, is the ever present nausea that rolled through her entire body. 

She places her hand over her stomach, pressing into the still flat surface. She’d only been released from the hospital the day before, and Aaron and the boys were taking the doctor’s instructions to make sure she rested very seriously. She smiles as she realises someone, Aaron, had laid a blanket over her. She looks down and sees Archie cuddled up in her arms, and it makes her eyes water, forever at the mercy of her hormones, at the thought of Theo placing the orange cat there with her before Aaron ushered him out of the room. 

She sits up slowly, blowing out a breath as she does, a pointless attempt to settle her stomach. She gives herself a moment before she stands, ensuring she has Archie with her, before she makes her way upstairs. 

It was late enough to know everyone else would be up there, and Aaron would have inevitably come to wake her up, to encourage her into their bed, once the boys were asleep. She sneaks into Theo’s room on the way past, smiling as she places Archie in bed with him, kissing her son’s forehead before she slips back out. 

She’s about to check on Jack when she hears him and Aaron in her bedroom, their hushed conversation travelling out through the gap in the door. Her curiosity spurs her on as much as her exhaustion does, and she steps into the room, spotting them in the ensuite. 

“What are you two up to?” She asks, her smile widening as they both turn to look at her, shaving foam on both of their faces, clean skin showing through the patches they had already dragged the razor across. 

“Dad’s teaching me how to shave,” Jack says, a shy smile on his face. 

Emily exchanges a look with her husband and is proud of herself for not smiling. Jack, in no way, had enough facial hair to justify shaving, just the first hint of it on his upper lip, the odd hair on his chin. 

“Well, have fun,” she says, “I’m going to get into bed.” 

“Do you need anything sweetheart?” Aaron asks, already setting the razor in his hand down, ready to do whatever she requested. 

“I’m ok,” she replies before looking back at Jack, “see you in the morning, honey.” 

“Night, Emily.” 

She climbs into bed, pulling the covers tightly around her as she tries to curl into a ball, another attempt to settle the constant twisting in her stomach. She dozes, the quiet sound of Jack and Aaron talking in the bathroom turning into white noise, and she’s unsure how much time has passed when she feels Aaron climb into bed with her, gentle as he pulls her back into him, his palm covering her belly.

“Are you ok?” He asks, kissing the back of her head, his thumb stroking at her belly button. 

“I feel like shit,” she replies honestly, a slight whine to her voice, “but no more than usual.” 

“I can go get one of your pills if you want,” he says, already pulling away, but she stops him, her hand over his on her stomach.

“No, I don’t need it,” she says, turning her head enough just to look at him, her lips pressing into his, “this helps.” 

He looks at her as if he doesn’t believe her, but settles back down behind her anyway, his body moulding into hers, the space they had made for each other years ago. 

“That was sweet,” she says, linking their fingers together on her abdomen, “Jack asking you to teach him how to shave.”

Aaron hums. “He was so shy about it,” he says, smiling into the back of her head, “Did I ever tell you that I taught Sean?” 

She squeezes his hand a little tighter, any mention of his little brother always prone to make him sad, their relationship so fractured she wondered if it would ever be fixed.

“No, you didn’t,” she says, raising their hands to kiss his knuckles, “although, it makes sense, your dad wasn’t around.” She turns, the movement making her stomach roll, so she can face him properly, her forehead against his. “You’re a fantastic father, you know that?”

He smiles at the praise, his dimples on display. “And you’re an excellent mother.” 

She chokes out a laugh, although it sounds close to a sob, her hormones driving her crazy.

“Our kids are so lucky to have us,” she quips, her hand running through his hair. 

“They are,” he replies, pressing his lips to hers, “but you can be the one to have the sex talk with them.” 

She laughs, properly this time, and she nods at him. “Fine, but you have to teach them how to drive.” 

___

June 2037

She’s sitting on the couch, the tv on a mindless channel, when the front door opens, the sound of the key in the lock seemingly echoing throughout the house. 

It’s muscle memory, a pavlovian response to years, decades, of Aaron walking in, his familiar footsteps against the hardwood floor, that has her momentarily forgetting. 

“Mom, it’s just me,” Jack calls through the house, and she berates herself for the stab of disappointment she feels. 

It wasn’t Aaron, it never could be again. 

“I’m in the living room.” She calls back, hopeful that she had kept her voice even. 

She knew her children well enough to know they’d discussed keeping an eye on her. It would have been Amelia’s idea initially, she knew that. Her daughter was still staying with her, sleeping in her childhood bedroom as if she didn’t have an apartment just 30 minutes away with her partner. She wasn’t here right now, and Emily knew it wasn’t coincidence that Jack was here when the house was otherwise empty.

“Is Mills still staying here?” Jack asks as he walks into the room, making a show of looking around for signs of his sister as he sits next to Emily, joining her on the couch.

“Yeah,” Emily replies, smiling, “She went home to get some fresh clothes, make sure Jamie has watered the plants correctly.”

Jack raises his eyebrow, “There’s a wrong way to do that?” 

Emily laughs, the sound foreign to her ears, “Apparently.” 

They fall back into the silence that had fallen over the house in recent weeks, laying over them like a thick blanket. Cloying and suffocating. 

“How are you doing, Mom?” Jack asks, his voice soft, kind. A mixture of the three people who had raised him. 

“I’m ok,” she replies automatically, a tight smile on her face.

Jack sighs. “Mom, you don’t have to do that. Not with me.” 

She frowns, her eyebrows creasing together. “Do what?” 

“Pretend everything is ok,” he says, “We’ve never lied to each other.” 

Suddenly it’s like she’s watching his life play out in front of her. Like he’s every version of himself that she has known all at once. The terrified kid on the brink of losing his mother, the angry teenager once again torn away from the life he knew. The grown man, the father, she had sitting in front of her. 

The years had gone by so quickly. 

“No,” she replies, “We haven’t.” She looks down at her lap and plays with her wedding rings. She has Aaron’s on a chain around her neck now, sitting close to her heart. “I’m just…really fucking angry,” she says, looking back up at her eldest, her eyes welling up as she admits it out loud for the first time, “so angry that he’s gone.”

“I am too,” Jack admits, shaking his head. “It seems so unfair.”

“I hate him for leaving me behind,” she says, her voice shaking, “and I hate that I hate him. Because I’ve loved him for most of my life.” 

Jack hugs her then, closes the small gap between them and puts his arms around her. She returns it gratefully, feeling a sense of relief for getting just a small part of what she was feeling off of her chest. 

“He asked me to look after you, you know,” Jack says as he pulls back, a sad smile on his face. Emily tilts her head at him slightly, her eyebrows creased. 

“He did? When?”

Jack chuckles dryly. “The last time I went to see him and he was lucid,” he shakes his head at the memory, “Sara stepped out with the kids, they were restless, and he said I needed to look after you. That you’d be so busy looking after everyone else you’d forget to do it yourself.” 

She huffs out a laugh and wipes a tear from her cheek. It felt absurd. That he’d been dying, waiting for the end, and he’d been worried about her. 

“That ridiculous man.” She says, another laugh choking on a sob, the sound dying in her throat. “Fuck, I miss him so much already.” 

Jack nods his head. “Me too.”

___

November 2013

Emily smiles as she hears her husband's footsteps heading towards the kitchen, home late from meetings that she knew he’d rather have skipped. She looks to Amelia, the little girl happily sitting on her mother’s hip, and smiles, bouncing her slightly as Aaron comes into view.

“Look, sweet girl, Daddy’s home!” 

“Daddy!” Amelia squeals, her hands already reaching out for him. He walks over and takes the little girl into his arms, kissing his wife quickly as he does so. 

“Hi sweetheart,” he says, kissing Emily again.

“Hi,” she smiles at him, “how was work?”

“Long,” he replies, adjusting Amelia so she was comfortable in his embrace, her tiny hands playing with his tie, “I’ve got to tell you something, and you’ve got to promise to stay calm.”

She freezes, her eyes fixed on him as her throat feels tight. “What?”

“I got called by Theo’s school earlier.” 

She frowns, confusion spreading through her veins. She’d seen Aaron since school would have ended, Theo was up in his room reading, acting like it was a normal day. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” She asks, her words tripping over each other, fierce protectiveness and worry that only their children could bring out in her rising fast.

“They have some concerns because he hasn’t been eating lunch, and today they saw him giving his lunch money to another kid.” 

She leans against the kitchen counter. “Is this kid bullying him?” 

Pre-emptive anger fills her lungs, ready to go shout at whatever child was involved, and she glares at Aaron when he has the audacity to smile at her for a second, her reaction clearly predictable to him.

“They asked him that and he refused to tell them, they asked if we would speak to him.” 

She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. “He’s been making such good progress, Aaron, I don’t want him to go through this again-”

“Baby,” he says, placing a hand on her waist, “let’s not jump to conclusions, we’ll talk to him after dinner, ok?” 

She nods in response, fighting against every instinct to run up the stairs and ask her son what was going on. 

During dinner, Aaron has to place a hand on her leg, squeezing the muscle tightly as she watches Theo eat. She notices the speed at which he does so, and she chastises herself for not noticing it before. 

Once Amelia is in bed, they call him into the living room, a nervous look on his face as he settles on the couch opposite his parents. 

“Am I in trouble?” He asks, concern painting his features. 

“No, sweetie you’re not in trouble,” Emily says, smiling at him in a way she hoped was reassuring, “we just need to talk to you.” 

“School called me today,” Aaron adds, and Theo’s eyes widen, his nose scrunching up slightly, “they told me what happened with your lunch money.”

“It’s fine,” he says, slightly defensively, “I told them it’s fine.” 

“Theo, we’re just worried that’s all, you should have told us if someone is making you give them your lunch money,” Emily replies, her hands in her lap as she plays with her rings. 

“He’s not making me,” Theo says, sighing after he does, clearly not intending to reveal what he had. 

“Ok,” Aaron says, exchanging a quick look with his wife, “what’s going on then?” 

Theo stares at them for a second, before looking at the floor. “His name is Adam, his mom can’t afford to give him money for lunch, and she works nights so can’t make it for him,” he shrugs, still avoiding eye contact, “so I give him mine every other day.” He flicks his eyes back up to them, before looking back down, “I tried to give it to him every day but he wouldn’t take it.” 

It shocks them into silence for a moment, and Emily looks at her husband before she stands, walking over to her son and crouching in front of him, ignoring the protest in her knees as she does so. She hooks a finger under Theo’s chin and makes him look at her. 

“Theo, that’s incredibly sweet,” she says, making sure her voice doesn’t portray the emotion she’s feeling, “and I’m very proud of you for being so kind, but you have to tell us, or a teacher, if you find something like that out. It’s not up to you to fix that.” 

He looks past her to Aaron, and without turning around she knows her husband has nodded in agreement with what she has said, before Theo looks back at her. 

“Ok.” Theo agrees, nodding. “Can I go play my game now?” 

Emily huffs out a laugh. “Of course.”

Theo stands up and hugs her, running over to do the same with Aaron, before he’s out of the room. Emily stands up straight, groaning as her knees ache. Aaron is next to her before she stands completely, his arms wrapping around her from behind.

“How the hell did we make the world's sweetest kid?” She asks, leaning into her husband as he kisses her temple. She turns in his arms and bands her arms around his back, mentally planning the call she’d make to the school in the morning. 

“I have no idea,” Aaron says against her skin, “we’re sending him to school with double the lunch money tomorrow, right?” 

“Damn straight we are.” 

___

June 2037

Theo calls her before he comes to the house, as conscientious as he had ever been. She hugs him tightly the second he walks in the door, the first joy she had felt in weeks thrumming through her veins.

“Congratulations, honey. I’m so happy for you.” She says as she pulls back, smiling at her son, hers only widening as he smiles back.

“Thanks, Mom. We’re so relieved it’s finally happened.” 

She looks past him onto the porch and sees he’s alone, frowning when she looks back at him. 

“Where are they then?” She asks, raising her eyebrow at him, “I want to hug my son-in-law and my granddaughter.” 

Theo, and his husband Sam, had been fostering a little girl called Florence for years, since she was only a few months old. They’d found out that morning that they were finally getting an adoption hearing, that their daughter would finally be fully and legally theirs. 

“Flo insisted on going to the park,” Theo says as he rolls his eyes at the little girl's behaviour, “I dropped them off on the way here.” 

Emily hums in her throat as she walks towards the kitchen, Theo following suit, “Tell her Nanna remembers everything, and I’ll keep this in mind next time she tries to scam cookies out of me.” 

“You’re a soft touch and you know it,” he says, taking the coffee pot from her hands and proceeding to make it for her, “you’d give any of the kids whatever they asked for.” 

She can’t argue with that, it was something Aaron had said multiple times since Jack’s first child had been born. However protective of their children she had been, it was increased tenfold for their grandchildren. She’s suddenly reminded of something, and she smiles at her son.

“Oh, I was in the attic going through some of your dad’s things, and I found something for you.”

She’s already walking towards the dining room where she’d been keeping some things, the self-imposed job keeping her busy, when she hears Theo call after her.

“Mom,” he sighs, “what have I told you about going up there, we’ll do it for you.”

Emily rolls her eyes at his over-protectiveness, making sure she’s back in the room so he can see, 

“Honey, it’s fine,” she says, her hands behind her back, the item she wanted to give him hidden from view, “you ready?” 

“Ready.” He says, smiling indulgently at her. She raises an eyebrow and he sighs at her, closing his eyes and putting his hands out. 

Emily carefully places the worn stuffed animal in his hands, the orange fur faded through years of love, and age. She knows Theo knows what it is immediately, his smile widening as his eyes open, settling on his oldest friend. He chuckles and holds the toy a little tighter.

“Hi Archie,” he says, shaking his head, “it’s been a while.” 

“He was up there in a box of your old things,” Emily explains, “I thought you could give him to Flo.”

“Thanks, Mom, I love that idea.” He says, briefly looking up at her before he looks back down at the orange cat, “Do you remember when Dad and Jack drove to get him after we left him behind in that god awful apartment?” 

“Yeah,” she replies, the memory of it seizing up her chest, “I do.”

Theo looks up at her, his dark eyes shining. “I wish he was here, that I could tell him about the adoption too.” 

“Oh, honey,” she says, closing the gap between them and putting her hand on his arm, “He loved her so much, she was part of this family the second you brought her here for the first time,” she smiles sadly at him, her throat tight, “another Hotchner girl who had him wrapped around her finger.” 

Theo laughs through his tears and nods, “You’re right.” He clears his throat and tries to smile at her, “Will you come to the hearing? We’d love to have you there.” 

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” 

___

February 2025

Emily can’t help but wince as she hears the brakes on the car squeal as it pulls into the driveway. 

It was Amelia’s 16th birthday and, as promised, Aaron was taking her on her first driving lesson. He’d taught both of the boys. There had been a few tense moments that had led to crossed words, but overall it had gone smoothly, both Theo and Jack passing the first time. 

She knew that Aaron was worried about teaching Amelia. Their youngest was the one who pushed back the most, the one who attempted to break boundaries. 

Amelia and Aaron had always been close, the blip in their relationship when she didn’t recognise him after they had gone into hiding mostly a distant memory. Things were changing now she was a teenager, the usual distance put between child and parent that always hurt, but she knew this was different for Aaron. It reminded him too much of when their daughter, only a baby at the time, shied away from him and acted as if he was a stranger.

Emily schools her features as the door opens, Amelia bursting in, excitement flowing off of her.

“That was so cool,” she exclaims, slumping down onto the couch next to her mother, “I love driving.” 

Emily laughs at her daughter’s enthusiasm, “You had fun then?”

“Oh, so much fun!” She replies, “I’m going to go FaceTime my friends, what time is dinner?” She asks, already standing up, her phone in her hand.

“We’re meeting your brothers at 7 pm, so we’ll leave here at 6.30.” Emily answers.

“Oh, maybe I could drive to the restaurant?” 

Emily finally looks at her husband and has to stop herself from laughing at the way his eyes widen.

“I think we’ll let your dad drive, honey.”

Amelia is already mostly out of the room, agreeing with just a noise as she disappears. It’s only when her bedroom door upstairs closes that Aaron slips onto the couch next to Emily, his head leaning back. 

“That bad, huh?” She asks, no longer hiding her amusement. 

“You have no idea.” He says, turning his head to look at her. “She knows no fear, and that, apparently, extends to the rules of the road.” 

Emily does laugh at that and she shifts towards him, pressing her lips to his cheek. 

“Poor, baby.” 

He puts his arm around her, pulling her into his side, and she goes willingly, snuggling up into him. 

“I love her so much, sweetheart. I’d go to the end of the earth for her, but I don’t know if I can teach her how to drive.” 

Emily places her hand on his leg and runs her thumb back and forth over the material of his pants. 

“She can’t be that bad.” 

“She asked what the indicator is, 5 minutes before the end of the lesson. We’d been using it for almost an hour.” 

Emily hides her smile in his neck. “We all start somewhere love.” She shifts to kiss his cheek. “Are you sure this isn’t all mostly because your little girl is growing up?” 

He pokes her in her side, tickling at her ribs. “No profiling.” He sighs, turning his head to kiss her temple. “Are you sure you can’t teach her?” 

She pulls away from him, her eyebrow raised. “Oh no,” she says, smiling at him, “we agreed a long time ago, I do the sex talk, and you teach them how to drive.” 

He groans and closes his eyes, his head leaning back against the couch again. 

“Your dad warned me about this years ago,” he says, almost as if he isn’t aware he’s talking, “he told me you were a nightmare to teach.”

“He said what?” 

___

June 2037

Emily closes the door behind her as she gets home from a coffee date with JJ and Penelope. They’d forced her to go, an attempt to get her out of the house that she was strangely grateful for. The last time she’d seen them had been at Aaron’s funeral, and she hadn’t been able to bring herself to speak to them beyond the usual pleasantries, all of her focus on her children and holding herself together. 

“Mom, good timing,” Amelia says, appearing into view, “I was just thinking about dinner.” 

She can’t help but smile as she looks at her daughter. It was strange to think Amelia was now older than she had been when she’d met Aaron, then when she’d married him. She didn’t know how it had happened, how the once little girl was now this woman standing in front of her. Her dark hair piled on top of her head, the nose ring she’d had put in as a teenager, the one Aaron hated at the time, still going strong. 

“Hi sweetheart,” Emily replies, placing her purse down, “how was work?”

“It was good, I met Jamie for lunch.” 

Emily smiles at that, at the flash of something she doesn’t miss across Amelia’s face. She’d been staying here since Aaron was admitted to hospital during the couple of weeks before he died. At first, it was under the pretence that their house was closer to the hospital than her apartment. Then it was so she could help Emily with the funeral. Since then they hadn’t spoken about it. Amelia still here, sleeping in her childhood room, and only popping home to grab some things and briefly see Jamie.

“You don’t have to stay here you know,” Emily says softly, “I’ll be ok.” 

Amelia freezes on the spot, and frowns, an expression that was just so Aaron it makes Emily smile. “Mom,-”

“I appreciate it, Mills,” she says, closing the gap between them so she can reach out and hold her daughter’s hand, squeezing it tightly, “I appreciate it so much, but you can’t just put your life on hold for me.”

“That’s not what I’m doing.” She says defensively, her eyebrows creasing even deeper.

“Jamie must miss you,” Emily offers up, smiling tightly, “I remember how quiet it seemed around here when you first moved out.” 

Amelia sighs and squeezes her mother’s hand. “I just don’t want you to be by yourself.” 

Emily smiles at Amelia before hugging her, blowing out a breath as she feels how tightly she holds her back, her fists grabbing at the back of her shirt like she hadn’t in years. 

Amelia had always been the loudest of their children. The most outspoken, the one filled with comebacks and sass, witty in a way Aaron had always claimed aged him. It made it easy to forget that she was also the most emotional of the three of them. Always so in tune with the emotions of those around her that she almost felt what others were feeling. 

“That’s very sweet of you, love,” Emily says, pulling back from Amelia and smiling at her, “but I’ll be ok.” 

Amelia uncurls one of her hands from behind Emily and wipes tears from her cheeks. 

“I remember when I was younger I’d always be so jealous that you all remembered what happened with Foyet and I didn’t.” She admits, her lower lip trembling, “ Like I’d missed out on something huge that bonded you all together. But…I never knew what it was like to live without Dad. And now I do and I hate it.” 

It tips Emily over the edge, her own grief hitting her again at full force at the sight of her daughter falling apart. She hugs her again as tightly as she can, trying to provide the comfort she doesn’t feel herself. She doesn’t know how long they stand there, locked in a tight embrace in the hallway of what used to be a busy home, but they take the time they need. 

“How about,” Emily says, pulling back enough to look at Amelia, gently wiping tears from her face like she hadn’t done since she was little, “we go get enough tacos to last a week, come back here and eat all of them, and fall asleep in front of a movie we’ve seen a thousand times,” she smiles, and Amelia does too, both of them ignoring the shake to them, “and then you can go home tomorrow.” 

Amelia laughs and nods, “That sounds perfect.” Before Emily can pull away, and head towards the door, Amelia hugs her again. “I love you, Mom.” 

“I love you too.”

___

January 1999

They’d talked about it. It was something they’d discussed on and off for years. Vague conversations about kids that started as thinly veiled comments in their early days, to more serious discussions as their relationship progressed. 

They both wanted children, she knew that. Sometimes she’d catch Aaron staring at her as she took her birth control in the morning, something she had consistently taken since she was 15. Despite that, she was still nervous as she waited for him to get home, her old habit of picking at her thumbnails coming back, her leg bouncing up and down. 

She was due a birth control review, the reminder from Joanne’s office on their kitchen counter, and to her, it seemed like the right time, the moment to take the step they had been skirting around for a little while now. She wanted to have a baby with him, to build their family. To be a mother. 

“Are you ok, love?”

She jumps and looks up to find him looking at her, his eyebrow creased in concern. “Sorry, I didn’t realise you were home.” 

“Clearly,” he quips, sitting next to her on the couch. He kisses her, his palm on her cheek. “What’s wrong?”

She forces a smile at him. “What makes you think something is wrong?” 

He tucks some of her hair behind her ear. “Well, you didn’t hear the door open,” he starts, before his hand seeks hers out, bringing it into her eye line, “you’ve torn your cuticles to shreds,” he puts his arm around her and she settles, “and, I’m your husband, I like to think I know you.” 

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “Stupid profiling.” Her eyes meet his and he’s looking at her expectantly. She blows out a steady breath. “My birth control review is coming up,” she says, flashing him an unsteady smile, “I got the reminder today. I was thinking…I might not go.” 

She watches as he processes what she has said, realisation hitting him within seconds, his expression barely changing, only noticeable to her.

“Oh.”

“I could,” she says quickly, “get another year's worth, but I just thought-”

“Don’t go.” He says, smiling at her, cutting her off before she could spiral any further. She feels warmth spread throughout her chest, happiness threatening to overwhelm her, her smile wide enough to split her face in two.

“Really?” She asks, her voice quiet, afraid if she was too loud she would break this moment between them.

“Really,” he replies, kissing her fiercely, “let’s try for a baby.” 

She smiles against his lips, kissing him again, shifting so she was sitting on his lap, her knees on either side of his hips. 

“I love you so much,” she says in between kisses, never fully pulling away from him. 

“I love you too,” he replies, pulling her impossibly closer, his hands sneaking under her shirt. 

“Aaron,” she exclaims, laughing as he lifts the material, her shirt coming over her head, “what are you doing?” 

“Making a baby with my wife,” he says as if it was obvious, and she shakes her head at him, undoing his shirt despite her laughter. 

“I took the pill this morning, honey,” she replies, groaning slightly as he pulls her further into his lap, “it’s going to take a little time-”

He cuts her off with his lips on hers, his fingers trailing the lining of her bra, he stamps another kiss to her lips before pulling away. 

“I know,” he says, kissing her again, “but we can have fun practising.” 

She smiles at him, her cheeks aching with it. 

“I can’t argue with that.” 

___

May 2037

He’s sleeping by the time the doctors let her into his room. They’d stabilised him as much as they could without breaking the DNR signed years ago. Sits next to him, her hand over his, and she blows out a breath and tries to calm herself. 

“I was by myself when Mom died.” Emily says to the quietness of the room, the silence threatening to crush her. She threads her fingers through his and pushes hair off of his sleeping face. “You were on your way. I was by myself but I didn’t feel alone. I haven’t felt alone in so long. You’ve always been there,” she wipes a thumb under her eye, the tear she wiped away immediately replaced, “or the kids have. But I feel it now. I feel so alone and you’re still here.” 

“Em?”

She looks at him and sees he’s awake, groggy but awake, and she smiles at him.

“Hi honey, how are you feeling?” 

“Terrible,” he admits, his voice weak, “what happened?” 

“A stroke,” she says, unlinking her hand from his to move some of his hair from his forehead, “A small one, according to the doctor, like that makes it better.” 

He smiles at her, a glint in his eyes that lets her know he’s in there, that she’s talking to her Aaron. A rarity these days, a precious jewel in amongst all of the confusion and fear there usually was. 

“How much did you yell?” He asks, raising his eyebrow.

“Enough.” She replies, smiling at him before they lapse into silence again. 

“This next bit is going to be hard.” He says, linking their fingers together. It was something they had done hundreds, thousands, of times throughout their time together. Something automatic. Something she had often done without thinking. A passing show of affection, a quick way to say ‘I love you’ without words. They’d stopped needing to say it so long ago.

She closes her eyes and tries to memorise it. The feel of his wedding band against her skin. The warmth of his hands. The roughness of the callouses he still had on his thumb, even all these years after he retired, as it rubbed back and forth over her wrist. She tries to remember it all, to make sure it’s seared into her memory. 

She’d forgotten how it felt to hold his hand once before. It wasn’t something she wanted to lose again, not when she was already losing him.

“I know.” She replies, sniffing as she tries to hold back emotion, shaking her head slightly as if she could get rid of it. As if it was rain on a jacket, easily wiped away. “I love you. So much. Mother always said that I love you too much.” She tries to smile but fails, her chin wobbling with the force of her sadness. “This is the first time I think she may have been right.” 

“No, sweetheart. It’s never too much.” He squeezes her hand. “It’s never been too much. I love you, and I don’t regret a single second of all of it.” 

She tries to laugh but it comes out as a sob, her spare hand coming up to cover her mouth. “Not even the part where a serial killer forced me and the kids into hiding?”

“Not a second of it.” He repeats, and he smiles at her like he hasn’t in weeks. She sees their life together in it. Everything they’ve survived. All the love they shared. The arguments and the inevitable apologies that followed. The comfort and the tears, the way they had got each other through. Impossibly more in love each day than the last. 

She was going to miss it, miss him. 

“Me neither.” She says, smiling at him despite her tears. “I’d do it all again.” 

They talk until he falls asleep, and she allows herself to act as if this was normal for them. That this wasn’t one good day in amongst so many bad ones. 

She tells herself it isn’t the last good day, that they have more time, until it becomes clear that it was.

___

They are alone when it happens. Just the two of them as his ragged breathing comes to a slow stop, her hand tight around his. She feels selfish for how grateful she is that it happened that way, that she’d been afforded their final moments together. 

A lifetime of love, and happiness. Bitter arguments and tears. Joy and grief and each other. All coming to a quiet end. 

She wouldn’t change a second of it. The pain she feels as her children arrive, the brave face she slides on so easily, was the price she paid for getting to love him for so long. 

___

January 1993 

He was late. 

It was his first day at his new job and everything that could have gone wrong that morning had done so. It felt like everything had been against him since Haley left, like the universe had decided it just wasn’t enough for him to be left by his fiancee just before their wedding. 

Aaron turns down yet another hallway that seems to lead to nowhere and he sighs, wondering vaguely to himself how the hell he was supposed to provide security for the people who lived here if he couldn’t even find his new boss's office. 

“Are you lost?” A voice says from behind him. He turns around and that's when he sees her, looking at him with her eyebrows raised. She was beautiful, almost ethereal, her dark eyes full of mischief. “Do you need help?” 

“I…I need to find Ambassador Prentiss’ office.” He says, cursing himself slightly at the stutter at the start of his sentence. She smiles a little wider, and he wonders if she has this effect on everyone she meets. 

“Oh, that’s easy,” she says, walking over and standing next to him, “I tend to just follow the air of judgement and patronisation on the air,” she winks at him, “it smells oddly like Chanel Number 5.” He opens his mouth, unsure what to say and she laughs at him. “It’s down the corridor and to the left, I’ll walk you there.” 

“Thank you.” He says, unable to stop himself from smiling at her as they walk together. “How long have you worked here?”

He knows it's a stupid question based on her appearance alone, that anyone wearing sweatpants and a tank top likely wasn’t on the clock, but small talk had never been his thing. He’d always left that part up to Haley. 

She laughs at him. “Oh I don’t work here,” she smiles. “I’m Emily, I’m sure you’ll learn all about me soon enough.” They come to a stop outside of an office door and she gestures to it. “Here we are.”

He smiles gratefully at her. “Thank you, Emily.” 

“No problem…” She drifts off, looking at him expectantly. 

“Agent Hotchner.” He offers, a tight smile on his face, the title still strange to him. 

Emily smirks at him. “Your mother called you agent?” She asks, her eyes sparkling and it makes him laugh, something about her leaving him unsettled but wanting more. 

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “Aaron. My name is Aaron.”

“Well, Agent Aaron Hotchner, it’s nice to meet you,” Emily replies, her smile widening. “And if you need anyone to show you around here let me know.” 

She goes to walk off, to return to whatever she had been doing when she had taken pity on him in the hallway, and something in him screams at him to stop her. Inexplicably wanting more time in her presence, to get to know more about her.

“Emily,” he says after her, waiting for her to turn back around, her eyes meeting his again, “I’d like that.” 

“Ok then, see you tomorrow Agent Hotchner.” She smiles at him, bright and beautiful and he can’t help but wonder if everything was about to change for the better. 

“Yeah,” he replies, returning her smile, “see you tomorrow.” 

___

“If tomorrow starts without me, don't think we're far apart, for every time you think of me, please know I'm in your heart.” - David Romano 

-x-

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#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotchniss fan fic #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #WTBVerse

[fatimagic]

@poseyslegtattoo and like...the thing i think people don't get about wtb is like yeah, even though tony is a dopey jock sometimes he's actually really smart and supportive and he teaches angela things??? like it's a joke to the *audience* that tony is ~sensitive~ and one of the maids and likes feminine things, but in-universe he's also never ashamed of liking musicals and baking brownies and picking out lace curtains and shit. the joke is how other people react to him. it's such a refreshing subversion (esp. for the 80s) of the whole "dopey dumbass with a gf way out of his league" cliche. and obvs. the show did have major problems with homophobia (*cough* jonathan) but they also really said fuck gender roles plus he legit loves his not-wife bye i'm emo.

#who's the boss #otp: you got the job #text #poseyslegtattoo #who's the boss?

[eraniriel]

WTB part 2 of that story where Eraniriel rises from the dead and saves Kyn'ra from herself. P L E A S E. I NEED ERAN RISING FROM THE DEAD.

(Let her REST dog dang. As with the last one -which I failed to mention- this is absolutely an AU situation created to fill the prompt)

“At last,” came the barbarous tone, a gutteral voice from behind sharp orcish tusks.

He stood cowled in black spellweave with a staff of spikes and demon skulls; an old orc by their reckoning of years, with a deep green hue to the flesh that was exposed and a flash of glowing light emanating from his eyes. His iron enforced boots clunked with each step he made, advancing on Eraniriel’s fallen form as the Kaldorei line was forced back from the shore. He reached for the harpoon, bending slightly to pinch the speared tip’s spring loaded wings closed so he could rip the harpoon free without taking half of her neck with it. Blood gurgled in the hole of her throat, but there was no life left.

His fleshy upper lip snarled, revealing his upper row of sharpened teeth. One brutish, meaty hand parted his robe to the side, revealing a supple demonhide pouch that emitted a bright violet glow when he loosened the laces and slipped his fingers inside. He withdrew a palm sized crystal, glowing with a rapid pulse and emitting a crystalline hiss that, in quieter places, would have sounded like words and sobs and screams. The orc held it aloft, brutish grimace melting into a righteous smirk, flat nostrils flaring wide with a snort.

“This is for Stonetalon,” rolled the gravel of his seedy voice, his gloved fingers tightening hard around the soul crystal until it fractured into shards, then dust, in his hand. Blue light, blue magic, coiled up from his fist, and he caught it in the other to commingle with a orb of magic so dark purple in hue it almost looked jet black. It warped and spun as he chanted, and around Eraniriel’s body strange sigils flashed, glowing through her pool of blood. Violet magic stitched at her neck wound, and ripped away at the iron nail embedded in her eye; then in a violent flash of wisp blue, and highland violet shredded the very fabric between life and death as it peeled upward towards the smoke thick sky - and Eraniriel sucked down a bloody breath.

“Kal-dorei,” the orc seethed panting, stepping back from the elf and pulling his hand in an invisible arc across the head of his stave. An illusory curve took shape in glittering fel green, half scythe, half axe growing from the head of the staff. The eyes of the staff’s skulls glowed vivid, noxious green, and growling whispered hissed from jagged teeth. He watched her. Waited. Then pointed the head of his weapon, of Death’s Hand, towards her. He watched as she rolled over, heard her armor crunching across the sands, heard her gulp at the air with a windpipe full of blood and soul residue from the resurrection spell. As she retched in the sands, blood still pouring from her damaged eye, he pulled a vial from beneath his cloak, bit off the cork, and drained its arcane blue contents in one swallow. The energy plowed through him, and he grunted with the power pumping through him.

Eraniriel rose to her feet by degrees, and though it was slow for him to wait -he was, after all, honorable enough to let her get her sword in her hand- she was forced to move much faster than was advisable. Her sword shook in her hand, looking more like a desert mirage than a weapon wielded by the Silvermere’s finest. Flimsy though it was, it was good enough for him. He thrust his weapon forward, and from the skulls liquid bolts of felfire belched forth, slamming into Eraniriel’s newly risen from. Holding her great-sword one-handed, she lifted a trembling hand for her throat, through the force of the flames battering against her, burning at the exposed flesh of her face, her ears, the ends of her hair. Her armor, white and black and stained with blood, began to sound like glass under pressure, tinkling and glowing soft orange and pastel rose. She heard him scream ‘where is it’ through the howling of the fire, through the shaking of her bones, and the boiling of her metal armor. He roared then, and the intensity of the flames turned magmatic; but her trembling hand found the crescent about her neck, and wrapping it in her gloved hand with a wrenching shout had an immediate and meteoric effect.

Everything went white.

Kyn'ra lowered her boot to the bloody deck, the tricorn wearing captain cartwheeling over the side of the ship from where she’d kicked him overboard. The last two forsaken on the ship fell broken when Sheri'adune threw back her hooves into the face of one, and thundered over the other with talons and hooves and hatred. From a distance, it looked as though the moon itself was anchored on the shore. The breath went out of her, and tears streamed anew and unbidden from the corners of her eyes - Her light bathed the beach in bannering, battered light, running thick as sap across the surface of the sea.

She could just barely make out a shape within the sphere of moonlight, and she recognized with a raging sob the spell, the enchantment, the beloved relic of Elune. Standing at the prow of two sinking forsaken dreadnaughts, Kyn'ra felt the wave of moonlight, of Her light, pour over her like syrup and cashmere. Her wounds didn’t heal, her power didn’t amplify, but her spirits rose and the tear in her heart blazed with the painful coupling of anguish and relief. Eraniriel, she knew, was at the heart of that light - she knew it as sure as she knew Teldrassil was burning, as sure as she knew her name. Light as pale as the moon flittered across her axe, reacting to Eraniriel’s pendant as if it was connected to its call. In her hand, it burned to do Her bidding.

“Shari,” she cried above the groaning of sinking ships, and mounting the swift pale hippogryph she spurred the hippogryph for the shore, her rage ripping across the water like a beveled prow. “Endu'di Rifa!”

#Yes that -is- the orc you think it is #Eraniriel Snowfall #Eran writing

[sequinsmile-x]

Hiiii my favorite hotchniss writerr <333

I just finished re-reading 'Whatever Tomorrow Brings' series, and wonder have you ever thought about writing one last part similar to 'Day-to-Day' (ahhhh this one is my absolut favorite) but after Emily died and how did her children react to it and their memories' of her?? 🥺🥺🥺🥺

hiiii <3

Oh WTB always has a very special place in my heart and the fact it does for other people always makes me so happy.

I'll be honest, we are coming up to a year since I posted Tomorrow, and I do miss that version with them. So part of me has been playing around with the idea of doing another one shot, but also the other part of me thinks I should just...let it be.

So, we'll see, but this is a very cute sweet idea. And I love it <3

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #wtbiverse #WTB

[veirsewrites]

How do RO/s react if they are angry (mad, mad, mad) with the MC, but instead they take MC face in their hands and kiss deeply, MC freezes and says "I thought you hated me"? Apologize for the errors!

Alright, let’s try and get writing again. The only way for them to get that angry and then kiss the MC would be if the MC did something insanely stupid/dangerous.

Eddie: Their eyes glisten as they pull away, your own are wide, in shock, “I thought you hated me.” They look between both eyes, still holding your face, “I just want you to be safe- no” their grip tightens and voice raises just the slightest, “I need you to be safe because I can’t-“ they take a stuttering breath and look away, hands falling down. “You have to be safe.”

Arlo/Aida: The kiss starts as clumsy, desperate, they hold your face but it’s not enough. They pull you closer by the back of your neck, hem of your clothes. Anything, anything to keep you close. When you finally part, jaw sore, they still hold you by the waist. A confused breath leaves your lips and you watch as they frown. “A, I thought you hated me,” you say. They lean their forehead against yours and whisper, “I could never, ever, hate you.”

Amelie: It’s gentle, hesitant, but soon enough your lips melt together. She pulls away, wiping her thumb across your bottom lip but her other hand still rests against your cheek. You bring your hand to rest over hers, moving your lips to kiss her hand. She shakes her head, but the anger from earlier has melted into something different. “For a second, I thought you hated me.” You say. She frowns and stares at you, long enough that you stand a little straighter but she finally answers, “you’re an idiot.”

#ch: eddie #ch: arlo/aida #ch: amelie #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

hehe~ that previous ask got me thinking, how would ros react if the prize for winning would be a kiss? Now is mc joking or not? Would that motivate some to spar? (looking at u A...) What if ro won, would they claim their prize? What if mc won, would they let them take it? 👀

Love this! This is in regards to this ask.

Here's what would happen...

Pre-relationship

Amelie:

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." Amelie's eyes widen, her grip on her knife tightens. "No- that's not-" You stick a finger up and she stops stuttering. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." She looks at you, stunned to silence. Then her gaze flickers to your lips, your smile, and she breaths out. "I- uh- oh!" She pulls out her phone, "would you look at that, I have to go! Bye!" And she speeds off, leaving you with a satisfied grin.

Eddie:

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." Eddie grimaces, but you keep going. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." Eddie places their hand on your chest and stops you. "No. Here's what will happen. When I win-" They smile crookedly, "you will never suggest that again."

ex-friend Arlo/Aida:

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." A stares at you, confused. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." They stare at your lips for a few seconds before speaking. "I-" They hesitate, almost unable to look away. But they do. "I don't think that's a good idea."

ex-lover Arlo/Aida:

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." A stares back at you, quirking their eyebrow. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." They stare at your lips for a few seconds before looking back to your eyes. "Intriguing idea. Though we may have to go a few rounds," then they smirk. "Just to really gauge who's stronger."

In a relationship

Amelie

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." Amelie's face breaks from its serious facade. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." You feel something sharp press against your chest. Her knife. And her smile is just as sharp. "I agree to your terms, $name, but you better be ready to deliver."

Eddie

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." Eddie quirks their eyebrow. "But if I win..." You take a few steps closer, "then I get a kiss." They chuckle, placing their fingers under your chin. "Alright, fair is fair." They lean in, nose brushing your own. "May the best win."

Arlo/Aida

"How about we make things interesting," you wear a small, curious smile on your face. "If you win, you get a kiss." A bites their lip, "Mm, I like the sound of that," they take a step closer. "But if I win..." You close the gap, tracing their bottom lip with your thumb, "then I get a kiss." They stare at your lips, mesmerized. "Or we could skip this whole facade," they suggest, looping their arms around you. You shake your head, breaking away from them. "Nope, I want you to work for it." They pout and sigh. "Fine, but I get more than one if I win."

#ch: amelie #ch: eddie #ch: arlo/aida #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

Forgot asking ros to shop with them, how would the ros react to an mc who just straight up steal their clothes saying they don't have anything else to wear

In relationship stage! (Saw the other ask;))

Down below:

—

The countertop is cool as your elbows slide forward. Eddie is halfway done with their breakfast by the time you arrive. You couldn’t figure out how they get the corners of their blankets so tight to the mattress, but they can fix it later. They get up and retrieve a small pack of blood from the fridge and stop to look at you. “Is that my shirt?” They step closer and grab the white sleeve and give it a sniff. “It is my shirt.” They place the blood in front of you as a slow smile grows on your face, "I didn't have anything else to wear." They frown, “don’t stain it,” and sit down again. As soon as they sit down they turn to you once more, their eyes raking up and down your body. It’s subtle, but you see them nod in appreciation and then continue to eat their breakfast.

—

A runs their hand through their wet hair, shaking it to get the water out. You step in, black button up not buttoned but held closed by your arms. They don’t stop what they're doing at first, briefly adjusting the towel that’s tightened over their body. But their eyes double take in the mirror and they step closer to you. “Is this… mine?” A runs their fingers up the sleeve, feeling the material. “It seems it is.” They step even closer, running their finger tips from your shoulder to your chest, fiddling with the unclasped buttons. "I didn't have anything else to wear," you state. Their face is soft and they smile, "I don't mind at all," then that face morphs into a stifled grin. “You know this shirt hasn’t been washed in like a week, right?”

—

She smells like roses, her face buried in your neck and yours buried in hers. Amelie’s hands hold tightly to the hoodie you wear. She pulls away, mouth opening to speak but then it shuts. Her hands dance around your back, patting the fabric. “Hey, this is mine.” Then she pulls her arms away from you, looking at you fully. "I didn't have anything else to wear," you cheekily smile at her. Her eyebrows raise, “you look better in it than me,” she waves her hand indicating you to spin. “I like this,” she steps close to you, running her hands down the sleeves. Then she tugs them forward, and forward. You stand close but she fidgets in place only for you to realize that she’s tied the sleeves together. She winks, “now you can never take it off.”

#ch: amelie #ch: arlo/aida #ch: eddie #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

Sad eddie didnt go with a wolf for the mask

Here's what would have happened

—

*Eddie wears a wolf mask*

Arlo/Aida: “Wow, the werewolf wore a wolf mask. How long did it take you to come up with that?”

Amelie: “Oh, a wolf, huh? No, yeah, it’s, uh. It’s nice.”

Eddie: “I couldn’t think of anything else.”

A: “A masquerade involves intrigue, romance, mystery- and you chose the one animal that says ‘hey look it’s me Eddie the big bad werewolf’”

Eddie: “it’s not that bad-“

Am: “It’s not very good, but if it makes you happy…”

A: “A whole myriad of creatures to choose from. What if I chose a bat? Or Amelie chose a human face?

Am: “I would never wear a human face.”

A: “Exactly and Eddie should not be wearing a wolf mask.”

Am: "It does kind of defeat the purpose of a mask."

A: "Better put a collar on them, Amelie, wouldn't want someone else confusing their wolf with ours."

MC walks in: “Nice! A raven, a lion and a... oh. A wolf.”

Eddie: “Fuck it! Fine. I'll change."

#ch: amelie #ch: eddie #ch: arlo/aida #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

idk if this has been asked, but how do the ROs react if the MC usually gives them a kiss every morning but just forgot to do it one morning? when they’re in an established relationship ofc

Arlo/Aida would notice right away. MC wouldn’t be able to make it out the door without them appearing in front of them, lazily smiling at MC and gazing at their lips. They’d say something like “I think you forgot something, sweet thing.” And pull the MC forward by their clothes.

Amelie would have a delayed reaction. MC probably walking out the door before she’s like “wait!” Does a little jog to catch up before doing a small hop and throwing her arms around the MC. She’d tap her nose onto theirs and remind them “don’t forget to kiss me.”

Eddie would only notice because it’s become a habit. But they wouldn’t think much of it, going on with their day as normal. The next time they saw MC, and if they were alone, they’d pull the MC in for a deep kiss to make up for it.

#wtb react #ch: arlo/aida #ch: amelie #ch: eddie

[veirsewrites]

How would Eddie feel about an mc who like “just let me take care of you” because it seems like they’re the one holding everything together and protecting everyone else?

There’s reasons for that :)

—

“Just let me take care of you.”

Your whisper is carried to their ears, the plea carries through the closed door. Eddie can hear when your forehead hits the door. Though they don’t open it. They hear the breath of resignation as you walk away. They listen until they can no longer hear you.

They have a headache now. The argument was unintentional, they had it handled. But you kept pressing. Pressing and pressing until it gave. And they didn’t mean to, they didn’t want to show you what spilled out, what was underneath. The broken pieces. What they sweep under the rug and what they ignore by diverting their attention to others.

They know your intentions are good. That you care. It moves them. But they want to help. They need to help, to busy themself, to distract themself. To take care of others in the ways that they couldn’t help-

It doesn’t matter.

They have it handled. They need to.

#take care of them in ways they’re not aware of #or they’ll be like I got it damn #unless they’re in love with you LOL #wtb react #ch: eddie

[veirsewrites]

Does Eddie bodyheat runs hotter than average? How would he react with a clingy vampire who loves his heat?

Hmm, haven’t thought about it but I’d say yeah! They seem like the type. (Please use gender neutral terms btw!)

Pre-relationship:

If the MC was always standing close, they’d be like, wtf are you doing. And that’s only if the MC was in the way. They might not notice if they were just standing there. Otherwise they’d step away. If the MC told them it was because they’re cold and Eddie is warm, they’d respond by saying “oh… then put on a jacket.” And put distance between them two.

In a relationship:

They’d probably be aware that the MC is cold, so they’d always have an extra jacket or blanket around. Again, if they were trying to work, they’d tell the MC like please, you’re in the way. But if they weren’t, and they were in private, they’d be more than happy to wrap their arms around them for a warm hug.

#Eddie pre relation ship and in a relationship is that one meme from that 70s show #ch: eddie #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

ROs’ reactions to finding out the mc’s sketchbook is full of drawings of them

If all ROs is too much then for Leo please? 💖

Hey! From Within is currently on hold, so to keep in the mindset, I'll do these for Water to Blood!

But to satiate curiosity, Leo would definitely be so excited by it. Conflicted between the need to endlessly tease the MC and an overwhelming feeling of giddiness he'd want to bask in.

Below for WTB reactions! (pre-relationship)

ex-lover Arlo/Aida:

The cover is browned, leather torn and the corners soft. The button no longer clasps. Crusted and dry, the old book creaks as they open it. Blackened versions of themself, charcoal, decorates the yellow pages. Pressure builds in their chest, climbing up their throat, tightening it. Their eyes squeeze shut but the images are stamped in their mind. When their eyes open, it's wet, glossy. Glazed. The old drawings ignite such old memories. It ignites to the turmoil. Still, they turn the page, and shut it quickly when they see it. A fresh drawing. Pressure turns to palpitations. They carefully open the book again, in awe of such detail. Their body reacts, hands become clammy and a silent smile tugs at their lips.

ex-friend Arlo/Aida:

They weren't supposed to see this. They wish they hadn't. The detail, the care. The beauty. This was- is, too much. The sketch book is slammed shut, shit, it falls. It's picked up, thrown on the desk, crooked. Shit again. They fix it, quickly, too many touches. Hurry up. Too hot to touch. They're out the door, outside, letting the air caress their face. It's cool. But the images are burned in their mind. The hands that drew them. The eyes that were so focused on their own features that they printed it from memory. It was perfect- they are perfect. No. This needs to stop. They need these images gone, forgotten. Pushed away. Push it away.

Eddie:

They pick up the book. Curious. Why is this here? They open it just as they would any other book. But it appears nothing like any other book. It's contents are... gorgeous. The artist is very talented, though, when you've had that much time to practice, it shouldn't be surprising. Still. They've captured even the scar on the back of Eddie's neck. How observant. Artistry such as this must be praised. They'll have to bring it up the next time they see them, and to tell them to stop leaving their stuff around.

Amelie:

Oh... wow. She knew they were talented, but this... This is- wow. Every detail of Amelie's face, her very essence, has been captured. Would it be weird if she asked to keep this? Maybe they could draw her another one... Wait. Amelie's eyes stop wandering the pages, instead her mind wanders to the artist. Had they spent that much time thinking about her? They paid attention to those details on her face. The thought of being thought about, observed by them, has her head spinning. She needs to stop it. Although, this can't hurt. This is harmless, right? This is fine.

#Eddie puddle Reagan #iT cAnt be That DeEp #ch: amelie #ch: arlo/aida #ch: eddie #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

Pssst

Hello?

Oh Hello! How are you? Hope all is well ><

If you have the time and the want, I was wondering if I could request the ROs with MC in an argument of sorts and MC just goes and says “don’t speak, just… just kiss me”? What a way to solve an argument~

My throat hurts ☹️ but we must keep moving.

I guess, obviously, depends on the argument but let’s assume it’s a medium tier one. Not super petty but not serious.

This is in a relationship:

Eddie would look at the MC with a deadpanned expression. “No.” And then continue with the argument. Only until after the two of them reached an agreement would they kiss the MC.

Amelie would cross her arms and look away, pouting. “How about you kiss me?” She’d mumble. Then she’d smile a bunch if the MC kissed her, willing to table the conversation for a later time.

Arlo/Aida would say “okay,” and pull the MC in by their shirt. They’d escalate the kiss if the MC was into it and try and forget about the argument. It was probably their own fault anyways.

#ch: amelie #ch: eddie #ch: arlo/aida #wtb react

[veirsewrites]

Arlo/Aida can't get sick, but what type of sick people are Amelie and Eddie? Are they whiny? Do they power through the flu even as people beg them to pop some ibuprofen and lay down?

Amelie is a pitiful sick person. She will stay home but she’ll try to do everything from home, if possible. Watch her take a 15 min break on the floor in the middle of the kitchen because she thought making a giant stew was a good idea. She won’t ask anyone for anything but kinda just suffer in silence.

Eddie is a stubborn sick person, who’s still trying to go out and do things. People beg them to stay at home but alas, Eddie doesn’t listen. Insists that they’re fine when they’re clearly not.

And if Arlo/Aida could get sick, they’d also be pitiful but be dramatic about it and make it everyone’s problem.

#ch: arlo/aida #ch: eddie #ch: amelie #wtb react #lifesupreme if

[veirsewrites]

Halloween 🎃 ask how would the ROs react if they went to a haunted house with MC and they got so scared they latched them self into RO arm

Eddie would be a bit surprised that MC was scared of a haunted house... Filled with human workers... However, they would walk in front of MC, with their arm behind them for them to hold. They'd insist the MC can close their eyes and that they'd lead them the fastest way out.

Arlo/Aida would hold the MC right back, tugging them forward because they also want to get tf out of there. While they're not necessarily scared, they're definitely not a fighter so it's probably best to just leave. Does, however, enjoy the proximity of the MC. Might take them the long way out just to enjoy it a bit longer.

Amelie would also latch right back on. She'd get really frazzled having the MC so close, which would result in her actually getting jump scared. She'd squeal a bit, half of her irritated they got the upper hand on her and made her look bad in front of the MC; and the other half a little happy about it because look how close the two of you are clinging to each other.

#fun fact me and my partner got stuck in a fake hallway in a haunted house #and the actors had to try and redirect us while still in character #because we're stupid #ch: eddie #ch: arlo/aida #ch: amelie #wtb react