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imaginesandinserts · 3 years

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Irreverent Drabbles: Perils of Realization

Title: Irreverent Drabbles: Perils of Realization Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: G Words: 6078

A/N: This takes place chronologically between chapters 28 and 29.

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You went on a date.

You realized that you were in love with Hotch, and your first instinct was to go on a date with someone else.

In all respects, it was a relatively good decision. Hotch was your boss and despite the close relationship you enjoyed with him, any romantic relationship between the two of you was impossible.

Miles Burton was a Senior White House Advisor whom you'd run into during your social obligations as a member of the Women in Service organization who had persistently flirted with you at the Griffiths fundraiser and had made it a point to say hello at the following two events you'd both been in attendance for.

Once you'd come to the fairly life-ruining conclusion that you were head-over-heels in love with Aaron Hotchner, you made sure to actually flirt back the next time you saw Miles Burton. That was how you found yourself on the date that had you questioning ever having harbored an attraction to men - dinner and drinks accompanied by a rendition of the 101 Life Accomplishments of Miles T. Burton.

This was hell.

After dinner, Miles had insisted on driving you home, and you cursed yourself for having taken a cab to dinner in order to avoid the lack of parking options in downtown. For some reason, he'd gotten it into his head that paying for dinner entitled him to having your mouth wrapped around his cock while he was parked in the street overlooking your house. You'd extracted yourself from the situation with as much contained outrage and dignity as you could muster, and having closed the front door, you find yourself leaning against it with only one thought in your head – Aaron Hotchner would never.

*------------*

"Rough night?"

You look over at Derek as he peers at you over his coffee mug, his eyes filling with amusement, no doubt having already taken in your slightly puffy face and the extra large cup of coffee you're carrying. After Miles had driven away - you'd watched from your window just in case - you'd needed a drink, which had turned into two drinks and ultimately falling asleep on the couch. You'd woken up late and having rushed out of the house - sans makeup - had arrived at work just in time. Hotch may no longer be upset at you being five minutes late, but he's still entirely stringent about punctuality and you hate to disappoint him.

"Bad date," you respond, dropping into your chair and whipping out the little compact and concealer from your bag so that no one else sees you looking like this.

Emily perks up at that, walking over to perch herself on your desk, the beginnings of a grin already forming on her face. "You finally went out with Burton?"

You look up at her, slightly shaking your head in disapproval at her glee. She'd warned you against him. Something about bad vibes, but since it hadn't been anything concrete, you'd impulsively gone against it. You should've known better. Emily's gut, when it came to men, was impeccably accurate.

Pursing your lips, you make sure your face no longer bears the telltale marks of having fallen asleep, drunk on your couch, before you look up at her and Derek once more. "He tried to Lewinsky me," you tell them ruefully, a scowl making its way onto your face as Emily unsuccessfully stifles a snort.

Derek's eyebrows rise in question. "It's fine, I'm okay," you assure him, before looking back at Emily. "You were right. He's an arrogant creep."

"I'm sorry," she tells you, scooching up further onto your desk and swiping up your coffee before you could stop her. "Everyday I continue to be attracted to men feels like a waste."

"Tell me about it," you mutter, careful to not allow your eyes to slip up to the landing where his office was.

"Oh come on, we're not all bad."

Both you and Emily turn to Derek with looks that say exactly what you think about that particular statement.

"Geez, tough crowd." He raises his hands in surrender, turning away from you both and back to his screen, no doubt to message Pen and fill her in on everything.

"I'd make a good lesbian."

You look up at Emily, who has a contemplative look on her face as she continues to take sips of your coffee. Your coffee. Your hot, perfectly sweetened and foamy latte.

"You would," you agree with her, reaching out for the cup, which she thankfully hands to you, before her eyes flit up to the landing. You turn and follow her gaze, eyes coming to rest on Hotch.

He's wearing the navy blue suit with the nice red patterned Gucci tie that you'd helped Jack pick out for him on Father's day. He has a folder on his hand and his brow is already furrowed, straining under the weight of the world far too early in the morning. His eyes move from the papers in his hand to all of you looking up at him, muscles tensed and breath held tight.

"Briefing. Now."

It takes only two words from him to get you all scrambling from your desks and rushing upstairs, his tone telling you everything you needed to know.

It was going to be a bad one.

*------------*

Five girls missing, three bodies found. Based on the pattern, it's already a foregone conclusion that the fourth girl was also dead. Not that you'd tell her parents that. Not until there was a body. All of your efforts were concentrated on girl number five.

You've felt the eyes of the entire team on you ever since the third body was found and Caroline Geller, lucky contestant number five, had been taken from the parking lot of a grocery store after work. All five girls were around the same age, pretty, low-risk, and had no connection to the unsub that you'd been able to work out.

You look up from the notes you'd taken while talking to Caroline's friends from work to see Hotch looking at you. When your eyes meet his, he's quick to look away, turning back towards the screen in front of him. You know why they're all concerned. While all of the girls are roughly the same age as you, Caroline Geller looked like you. Same hair color, similar features, comparable build – at first glance one might mistake her for you.

She taught ballet at the local dance school, volunteered at the soup kitchen every week, and had recently gotten engaged to her fiancé, a beautiful and heartbroken man who had planted himself on a bench outside the precinct and refused to leave his post.

You'd been at their home, combed through their life, seen the wedding invitation pinned to the refrigerator, held her pointe shoes in your hands as you looked around at everything left behind.

Your eyes stay fixed on Hotch's back as he continues to assess the screen of suspects and look at the evidence board, as though willing something to fall into place. He seems more affected by this case, this girl's disappearance, more than any other in recent memory. There's this childish, naïve part of you that's hoping against hope that it has something to do with you. Because she reminds him of you. More likely, it's the fact that he's had to walk past her fiancé, every time he's left the precinct. Hotch had been the one to speak with him, and the poor man had broken down into tears right in front of his eyes. It was enough to affect even the coldest of hearts and Hotch hardly fit the bill of a cold-hearted man, despite any misconceptions made based on his reticent exterior. Aaron Hotchner was one of the kindest and most sincere people you've ever met – devout father, responsible team leader. His very aura commanded the sort of respect reserved for those men, the kind of men everyone looked up to and knew they'd never be.

Somehow, he's permeated your entire life without you realizing it. Ever since the two of you had made up, it felt like things were back to normal, even more than before he'd left. You had dinner with them as often as possible. Both him and Jack slept over at least once a week when there wasn't a case going on. The sight of Hotch in pajamas, disappearing into your guest bedroom was becoming a familiar one. It's beyond normal coworkers, beyond a normal friendship – you can finally admit that to yourself.

How it had happened though - how the two of you had allowed it to happen - still remained a mystery. It had been innocuous enough in the beginning. Accompanying Jack and Hotch to the Zoo or the Smithsonian. Relieving Jess when Hotch couldn't get away and she had to go home to her own family. Keeping him company late nights at the office because you hated seeing him be the last one there.

You can feel a lump rise in your throat as your eyes stay on his frame, watching as he points out an additional factor for Reid to consider in his geographic profile. You didn't deserve him. You didn't deserve someone like him, even if he were to give you the time of day.

You've already thought through how it would go if you were to tell him. Blocked out what you'd say and how'd respond. The initial shock of your revelation would catch him off-guard. He'd falter ever so slightly. It would be quickly followed by a professional and kindhearted rejection. You were his subordinate. You were too young. He's sorry if he did or said anything that might have led you on. Of course, he understands if you need some time and space to gather yourself and make your peace with the matter. Of course you'd still see Jack, he'd never deny you his son again. And he wouldn't. He'd stay true to his word.

But you'd never be the same again. You'd never be able to look at him again and feel anything but the sting of that rejection. The confirmation – you weren't good enough. It didn't matter that you'd changed everything. It didn't matter that you'd tried and tried to atone. You weren't good enough. You never would be. Not for that. Not for him. Slowly, you'd start to withdraw. You wouldn't be able to help yourself. It would hurt too much, just being near him. Without meaning to, you'd lose him.

*------------*

Samuel Nolen, age 45, a landscaper who'd worked jobs around each of the women's workplaces in the weeks leading up to their disappearance. He'd been the only common link Garcia had been able to pinpoint and he fit the profile exactly. Older white male, non-threatening demeanor, rotating job that gave him the freedom to watch his victims uninterrupted. Grew up with a single father, mother left the family when he was nine years old and was never heard from again. Garcia had found out that she'd moved out to Vegas and had a relatively successful career as a cabaret dancer.

He was sat in the interrogation room with both Rossi and Reid talking to him while the rest of you watched from the other side. There was something almost gentle about how he held himself, how he shied away from Rossi and leaned more towards Reid, whom he perceived as non-threatening. The guess was that he'd lured in his victims under the guise of needing help, and based on the man in front of you, you could see how some women might fall for it. He seemed nice. If there's one thing this job has taught you, it's that men don't ask for help from women. If a man is asking you for help, run.

Neither Rossi nor Reid were having much success with him. You could all see the twitch in his fingers as they curled around something imaginary. All of the victims had died via strangulation. The hope was that you'd captured him before he'd managed to get back to Caroline and subject her to the same fate.

Derek and JJ had been the ones to pick him up, and as Derek had marched him past you, through the precinct, Samuel's eyes had caught yours and they'd lingered, sending a chill racing down your spine. He might be able to fake it long enough to lure those women to their deaths, but there was no hiding that look in his eyes. The look of a predator.

"I want to talk to the female agent. I'll only talk to her."

It was the first thing he'd said since the interrogation had started half an hour ago. You feel yourself tense, the eyes of the rest of the team on you immediately. None of you needed to ask which agent. From the corner of your eye you look at Hotch beside you. He isn't looking at you, still glaring at the unsub through the mirror, but you can see that his jaw is set tightly.

When Rossi and Reid exit, Rossi immediately looks to you before his eyes go over you and to Hotch. You don't have to turn to see that they're engaged in a wordless debate about the right next move.

You can't help but think of that lovely empty house. The despondent man still seated outside. Those satin shoes that had just been broken in. They deserved to be worn.

"Hotch," you turn to face him, making up your mind as you do. You're going in. You're going to get answers.

He's already looking at you and you can tell that he doesn't like it at all. His forehead is already wrinkled and you can literally see the dissent on his mouth. He's incredibly protective of the team and everyone knows that you're being asked for because you look most like the victim. His ritual has been interrupted and he's going to be eager to resume it. With you as proxy.

"I have to go in," you tell him, before he can say anything to dissuade you from the notion. There was no point in waiting. Every second you waited, your chances of finding Caroline worsened.

His eyes bore into you, silently speaking his every concern into existence. You didn't have to do this, there was always another way. You look so much like her. You look too much like her. If you go in there, he won't see you. He'll see her.

It is a tense minute as you and Hotch look at one another. He's giving you the chance to back out despite knowing that's the last thing you'd do. Finally, a nod comes from him.

"We still have the personal effects that were found in her car?" You're already walking out to the main office as you direct your question to Emily, who is quick to follow you. She guides you to a box of items, among which there's some pieces of clothing. Grabbing the box, you go back to the office overlooking the interrogation room. If he was going to think you were Caroline, then you'd play into it.

Quickly, you shuffle through the clothing in front of you, selecting a well-worn seeming crewneck with her alma mater on it. Slipping your blazer off, you pull the sweater over your head, adjusting so it hung off of you in a manner reminiscent of how Caroline wore it in the photos you'd seen. You shuck off your heels as well, finding a pair of low flats in the box, which you don instead.

Behind you, you can feel the eyes of the team on you as you slowly transform yourself. For the final touch, you take your hair out of your usually prim updo and let it down. Your hair was a little bit longer than Caroline's, but, as you part it down the left side just as she did, you figure it was close enough.

Turning finally to face the unsub, you take your first breath as Caroline Geller.

*------------*

Aaron watches, fists bunched tightly together, thumb itching to move, to do something that would accomplish something larger simply watching and waiting.

They all knew what you were doing - playing up the similarities between yourself and the victim to draw out whatever it was about these women that played to the unsub's compulsions. Prey on his weaknesses just as he'd preyed on them. It was a good tactic – one he could feel forming in your head as you'd searched through the evidence box in search of props for your scene.

You're good in the field, there's no doubt about it. But here, in the interrogation room, that's where you really shine. It was one of the hardest taught skills and it was the one that you had outperformed in beyond imagination from the very start. Your methods unpredictable and out of the box, but highly effective. Out of them all, you were always the best at getting inside the heads of the unsubs and finding that one little thing that made them break.

He's seen it before countless times now, been witness to each spoken word, well placed emphasis, timely pause. The interrogation room was a stage and you were always the star.

It had been the topic of some conversation between himself and Rossi – how you'd managed to convince some of the toughest unsubs to crack under the pressure of your presence. Aaron, personally, chalked it up to your childhood and upbringing. When your entire life was a performance, you know how to play your role.

Now, as he watches you, he sees how you've managed to mimic the mannerisms of Caroline Geller from the home videos you'd seen of her – the slight tilt of the head, the fiddling with the ends of your hair. Your voice has shifted as well, a slightly higher and happier pitch, more like what one might expect of a dance teacher with students in primary school. You've done your homework on this one, that one is easily clear. However, it's the slight pause you have as the Unsub addresses you as Caroline, the nearly imperceptible tension in your shoulders as the Unsub mocks Caroline's desolate fiancé whom Aaron hadn't the heart to look at. This one had gotten to you, and you wouldn't be able to deny it. Not to him.

At long last, you get what you're searching for. The docks by the east river.

The answer came at a price – twenty five long minutes with just you and the Unsub as he poked and prodded at your psyche just as you did to him.

The confirmation from Garcia, of a heat signature at the given location, comes within the minute and Aaron is quick to rap his knuckles against the glass, signaling your curtain call.

*------------*

You can't save them all. That's the one lesson every new agent learns at their own pace.

You can't save them all.

She'd suffocated before you could get to her. You'd been too late.

JJ hadn't let you see Caroline's body, dragging you back and away from the dock containers when Derek had emerged with a somber face, slowly shaking his head.

Your gun feels heavy in your hand, and it is only out of sheer rote habit that you manage to disarm and reholster the weapon. JJ stands with you as the flurry of people begin to process the scene, lit only by the red and blue flashing lights of the police cars.

You'd failed. You'd been too slow to extract the location, too slow to get there. You'd been too damn slow.

You've lost victims before. Everyone has. But you lived in this girl. You'd worn her clothes, her shoes, taken her name. You'd walked like her, changed your voice to mimic hers. It was as though, by pretending to be her, you'd taken in a part of her that now yearned to reunite with the rest of its whole, but it wasn't able to. So now a piece of Caroline Geller rattled inside of you, sobbing and crying out for the rest of itself.

Hotch and Emily finally emerge and you follow JJ to join them as Hotch assigns everyone their roles. One of the policemen interjects and informs him that Caroline's fiancé had insisted on coming along and was now waiting with a deputy by the barricades. You see Hotch nod, his eyes briefly moving towards the direction of the barricade, before refocusing on the team and instructing Reid to assist with the evidence logging.

As everyone starts to disperse, you can feel a lead ball drop into the pit of your stomach, knowing that Hotch now had the task of informing the fiancé that Caroline Geller was dead.

"Hotch," you begin, his name coming out full and heavy, sitting in your mouth like warm air.

He halts at your voice, turning back towards you. He'd already given you your assignment, so he has to be wondering what you could possibly have to say to him.

You look up at him. It's just you, him, and Emily left now, as she waits for you to help her with processing paperwork on the unsub that Hotch had tasked you both with. "I – ," you falter as you meet his eyes, and you can barely see a hint of him behind them. He'd already donned his mask to go face the fiancé.

"I'm sorry," you manage quickly, jaw tight and heart clenching at the awfulness of the job that he now has to do. The job he always has to do.

The only acknowledgement you receive that he had even heard what you said over the din of the police and ambulance sirens, was the barest of wrinkling to his forehead. The ever so slight slippage of the mask during which you thought you might get to catch a glimpse of him, but he catches it far too quickly and keeps it in place. As if it never happened. Not even nodding, he turns away and walks towards the barricade.

It's a miserable few hours for Emily afterwards, you're sure, as you monotonously follow her back to the police station and begin the task of coordinating with the local office to handle the case and subsequent prosecution.

Emily likes to talk while the two of you work together. Rarely ever do the two of you work without talking, however she seems to pick up on your mood fairly well and the two of you quietly go through all of the required processes.

"You know what your problem is?"

You look up at Emily, who had finally broken the silence, her sharp voice cutting through the small storage room that the two of you inhabited, gathering all of the files that would need to be sent off to the local office.

You swallow, bracing yourself for the worst. At your slight nod, she proceeds, her voice a calm fury like you'd never seen before. "Even after everything you've done, after everything you had to go through, you seem to harbor this delusion that you're not supposed to be here."

"What're you talking about?"

"I'm talking about you. Apologizing to Hotch. You think you don't belong here. That you aren't good enough. You think that girl dying today was your fault."

You scoff, shaking your head. "It was my fault," you retort, grabbing the box you'd just finished packing and making your way to the door before you're blocked by Emily, preventing your escape.

"No, it wasn't. The only person responsible for that girl's death is the guy who's going to rot in prison for the rest of his miserable, fucked up life."

You sigh, shuffling your weight from one foot to the other. "If I'd gotten – "

"You can't save everyone," she interrupts, barreling onwards. "We're going to try. We're going to try our best every single time. But we can't save everyone. None of us can. Not you, not me, not even Hotch. But that doesn't make it your fault."

Emily stares down at you, reaching out and grabbing the heavy box out of your hands and setting it down on the floor by your feet. You look away, up at the ceiling, tears pricking at your eyes, causing them to burn. Your chest feels tight and you take a shuddered breath. The lure of wanting to believe her was so very strong, struck against the waves of dissonance it posed in your head.

Emily softens her voice, reaching out towards you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders as she easily pulls you into her chest. "Hotch isn't blaming you. He doesn't think you have anything to be sorry for."

*------------*

The plane ride back was a somber affair, everyone on the team off on their own. Spencer was reading a new book whose title had caught your interest, Rossi was tucked away in a corner with his eyes closed but you're not sure if he's actually asleep. Both Emily and JJ were sitting close together, quietly sharing a bag of Cheetos while JJ worked on her presentation to Henry's class for Career Day and Emily bided the time alternating between reading the trashy romance she'd found left behind in her hotel room and staring out the window. Derek sat across from you with his headphones on, leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. Across the way, you can see Hotch diligently working on his report for the case, the only sound emanating from his faint taps against the keyboard.

Emily's words still play in your head, now competing with that churning voice that you'd had in your head for the past few weeks – you would never be good enough for the likes of Aaron Hotchner. Her words were starting to put some minute cracks in the foundation of that particular statement, and you had no idea what to make of that.

You hear the tapping of the keyboard stop momentarily and watch as Hotch turns up to look at you, your eyes meeting for a long second, before he breaks his gaze, returning back to the screen in front of him. From your seat, you can barely make out a slight crinkling of his forehead as his hands hover above the keyboard, as though faltering in typing out his next words. You have to guess that he's arrived at the part of his statement around the interrogation. You turn away, following Emily's lead and staring out your own window, while unbeknownst to you, his eyes can't help but return to you countless times more.

It felt as though you'd thought of very little besides Hotch, since that day that your mother had visited. She'd left in the wake of one of the few times you'd seen him lose his cool with someone, and having it be done on your behalf, in your defense, had somehow unveiled this entirely ridiculous truth that you'd tried in vain to deny.

You were in love with Aaron Hotchner.

You had no idea what to do with that.

Dating other people hadn't worked out so well.

Trying to simply get over it had been an exercise in vain.

You've run miles in your own head, trying to make sense of it. The question begged itself – why Aaron Hotchner? If you merely wanted a husband and kids, you've no doubt you could have that with anyone you got along with well enough.

Your mind had briefly flitted back to that final date you'd had with Cedric Kensington. It had been highly promising, you'd finally felt it heading in a definite direction and you could see it. You could see yourself being with Cedric, marrying him, having children with him if you were so inclined. Had you not gotten the call from Garcia, informing you that Foyet was back on the grid, who knows what could have happened. Maybe you could've had that with Cedric. Having that perfect life with someone else was not entirely out of the realm of possibility.

You'd thought of John. How it had never been the right time when it came to the two of you. Then finally, when you could conceive being something real with him, you'd faltered. You couldn't go through with it. It hadn't been the right time to choose him. It hadn’t been the right time to choose anyone but yourself.

It had taken you some time but you think you've finally come to the right conclusion of why it was Hotch and no one else – the possibility of losing him was terrifying. Even when the two of you had been on the outs, you hadn't been able to leave, staying anchored to him despite being furious with him. Seeing him had been torture. Not seeing him had been so much worse, and you couldn't bring yourself to endure that again.

Given the absolute fact of the matter – you being in love with Hotch - there were really only two paths forward that you could see. Ignore it and hope it goes away, or tell him and pray you didn't lose him in the process.

The Pro/Con list to that second option had begun, unbidden, the week prior. Your mind going rogue and dreaming up ridiculous and absurd scenarios of you confessing your truth to him.

Pro: You're absolutely, unshakably, madly in love with him.

Con: There's a fairly good chance that he does not and will never reciprocate those feelings.

Pro: Aaron Hotchner was loyal to you. You had always felt he was, but your conversation a few weeks back had cemented that. He would do anything to help you, no matter what.

Con: He's twelve years older than you and has a kid.

Pro: You love his kid.

Con: Between the two of you, your past trauma could be its own wing in the Library of Congress.

Pro: You're both good at getting the other person to talk.

Con: You work together and workplace romances are frowned upon. He was your supervisor, and dating him would no doubt lead to rumors and malicious gossip, which would follow you the rest of your career at the Bureau. It could tarnish you entirely and it could also hurt him.

Con: You would not be alright if the two of you didn't work out. You know that you weren't even together, but the idea of ending things with Hotch, after knowing what it was to have him – that would break you entirely.

Con: He was going to say no, so it was all a moot point.

Towards the end, you'd run out of items for the Pros to balance out each Con, and as of now, the Cons were definitely in the lead.

*------------*

The two of you are once again the last two people in the office. Emily had been the last to leave, leaving her book from the plane on your desk, having already put sticky note bookmarks in all the right spots. She'd winked as she left, encouraging you to skip the rest of the book and skip straight to the good stuff. You had to smile at her attempts to cheer you up. Some friends bought you a drink. Emily Prentiss curated sex scenes that she thought you'd enjoy reading.

You glance up and see that Hotch's door is shut, the orange blush emanating through the glass windows, alluding to the fact that he'd given up on using the overhead lights. They were too bright for him and gave him headaches, so despite the strain on his eyes, he preferred to read by the glow of his desk lamp. With Jack away at sleepaway camp for Cub Scouts for the week, he's unlikely to leave early.

You grab your finished report and head up the stairs to his door, stopping and knocking before hearing his permission to enter. As you open the door, your eyes go immediately to his desk, however he's not seated behind it. Instead, you're greeted by a most unfamiliar sight.

Aaron Hotchner is seated on the brown leather couch in his office, a glass of amber liquid in his hands. You don't think you've ever seen Hotch not working in his office. Sure, he'll take a break here and there when you interrupt, but the image of him outright sitting on the couch, not a report in sight, was entirely foreign to you.

It feels as though you're intruding. Like you’ve stumbled upon something entirely private, because Hotch doesn’t strike you as the kind of guy that makes a habit out of drinking in his office by himself.

You could imagine this was something he did with Rossi on occasion, the two of them sharing a drink after a rough case or catching up and reminiscing about the so-called good old days, before the team had a plane on call.

"You can set that on the desk," he tells you, his voice deeper, made warm by the liquor. He doesn't look up from his glass, eyes fixed on something in the far off distance.

Unsure how to react to the sight in front of you, you quickly make your way across his office, setting your file on top of the already tall stack at the edge of his desk.

Turning around, you quickly walk back towards the door, eager to not bother him any longer than absolutely necessary. When you get to the door, you hesitate, turning back to face him. Before you can stop yourself, you can feel the words tumbling out of you. "Hotch, are you alright?"

He looks up in your direction, his expression entirely unreadable. He nods slowly, and you can see a deep sigh work its way through him, before he finally meets your eyes.

"It was a rough case. Telling the families isn't something I'll ever get used to, I think."

You nod sympathetically. It wasn't fair that it always fell on him.

"I'll be fine, though. Just need to be alone after some of them."

You nod again, not trusting yourself to say much. As you turn to leave, taking his words as your cue, he speaks again.

"You can stay."

You turn back, your head tilting in some confusion as you meet his eyes once more. He looks at you for a second longer, before reaching over to the side table and grabbing a second glass. He pours from the bottle of good scotch that Rossi had given him last Christmas while you watch him.

Proffering the glass in your direction, he beckons you forward. "You're easy to be alone with."

Somehow, in a slight daze, you manage to walk back towards the couch, reaching out and grasping the heavy crystal glass in your hand. He motions for you to join him and you sink into your usual spot, tucking your legs underneath yourself.

His eyes stay on you as you settle in and take a sip of the scotch, feeling it burn your lips, the tip of your tongue, before blooming into a subtle smoky sweetness in your mouth, settling into your stomach like dying embers.

"Are you alright?" he asks, watching you carefully.

You try not to squirm under his inspecting gaze, unable to offer much beyond a shrug. "I will be."

It's quiet for a moment as he continues to look at you and you distract yourself with a stray thread in the cushion stitching.

You hear him clear his throat, shifting slightly on the couch so that his leg bends at the knee as he turns his body to face you, arm stretched out on the back of the couch, fingers grazing the top of your shoulder. "You did everything you could."

You feel that heavy tug in your stomach, unable to look at him, knowing that your face would betray you entirely.

He says your name, soft on his lips, gentle with every part of you. He waits until you look up at him, meeting his brown eyes that held the warmth of an everlasting hearth.

"You did."

You nod slowly, because who were you to disagree with him. Because if Aaron Hotchner said you did everything you could, then maybe it was true.

Not much more is said that night, as the two of you sit side by side.

Pro: You could be alone with Aaron Hotchner.

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imaginesfor-thesoul · 4 years

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spencer reid x Hotch! daughter

PART TWO ( you can find part one here)

word count: 3.7k

A/N: I’m so sorry this took so long, thank you guys so much for all the support on the first part.

:: :: ::

The board room in the Behavioral Analysis Unit of the FBI was bustling. To an unfamiliar eye, the scattered papers, photographs and maps all across the floor would indicate that a hurricane had blown through the room. Though this madness, as chaotic as it may be, was a methodical look into a profilers brain.

In the eye of the hurricane, sat (y/n). She would fidget with the rings on her fingers or tap her foot against the ground. Now two days into the investigation, the possibility that they may not find Lacy alive plagued (y/n).

Across the room, Spencer Reid was working on a geographical profile centered around the home that Amber (deceased), Lacy (missing) and (y/n) (Currently fucking terrified) shared.

“I’ve been looking over the note that the unsub left, I noticed something in the second line.” Prentiss announced. “-and don’t worry, I cared for Amber in her last moments. I took her last breath with poise and precision” She quoted.

(y/n)’s foot tapped a little harder. Unbeknownst to her, noted by a gentle eyed Spencer.

Prentiss continued, “The emphasis on care, precision and poise determines almost a sincere effort to impress and please whoever found the note. These sound like the words of a female unsub. An incredibly insecure female unsub at that.” She concluded.

The team collectively agreed with this theory and continued on.

Derek sat down at the table next to (y/n). “So, we know you’ve still got your phone on you, have you turned it on since you left?” He asked.

(y/n) shook her head “No, I haven’t just incase it’s being tapped.” Suddenly her fingernails became oh so interesting once more.

Derek nodded in understanding. “Right, okay, now listen (y/n), I know it’s going to be scary but after we give the profile and do the press conference, I’m going to need you to turn that phone back on for me, it may be our only contact with our unsub.”

This made (y/n)’s heart feel as though it were about to stop. The continual state of shock and fear that she remained in, had manifested a sense of detachment and disconnect to the whole case. This roped her right back in to the center of the case.

A quick nod was enough of answer for Derek as he shot a friendly wink her way. Getting up he said “Thanks kid, you know, you’re really doing great.” Before walking off.

Replacing Dereks absence, (y/n)’s father, SSA Aaron Hotchner took a seat next to his visibly overwhelmed daughter. “How are you holding up?” He placed a loving arm around her shoulder and pulled her in.

A quiet stream of tears slid down her cheek as she hid her face into his chest, “I’m ready to wake up now, dad.”

This killed him. A breaking father holding his broken daughter.

(y/n) held her head back up and excused herself to the restroom.

Above the hum in the room, Hotch cleared his throat, gathering everyone’s eager attention. “We are ready to present our profile. JJ, get in contact with the local PD’s and bring them all here this afternoon, we are going to need as much help as we can get.”

JJ nodded obediently and rushed out of the room straight to her office.

:: :: ::

(y/n) sat quietly and patiently as she listened to her father and his team deliver their profile. They determined that the unsub was female, insecure and incredibly manic. The impulsive nature of this unsub means that anyone in contact with her must be prepared for her erratic behavior. This behavior may present itself through violence, self harm, or fleeing.

Every mention of Lacy and Amber made her flinch. She knew what she had to do once these meetings were over, and she was terrified.

The core team filed back into the board room and (y/n) placed her phone onto the table. Morgan spoke up. “If you are right about the unsub tapping your phone, shortly after turning it on there is a large chance our unsub will try to contact you.”

“Reid!” Hotch grabbed the young genius’ attention. “Can you prep (y/n) for the call, it has to be her on the phone.”

(y/n) and Spencer sat down across from each other next to a window. Far from all the chatter. Reid looked at (y/n). And suddenly, momentarily, it was like they were back on the floor of the bullpen. Something about the two of them was magnetic, there was no longer a killer that had killed one roommate and kidnapped the other, there was no unsub, no threat of security. But for now, there was a more pressing issue hand, so this spontaneous, charismatic revelation of love and soul would have to be pushed to the side. Though a silent mutual understanding had been made next to that window. That was for later.

Clearing his throat, Reid began. “Right, I’ll go over the basics for you.” He was being overly professional. Not only does he have FBI guidelines to follow, but also this gorgeous, incredible young woman’s father right across the room. Suppressing every urge in his being, he continued.

(y/n) listened with wide eyes, panic blowing on the back of her neck.

“You need to keep the unsub on the phone for as long as you can, okay? Garcia will be tracking where the call is coming from, but the more time she has the better.” Reid hesitated when he saw (y/n)’s hand begin to tremble. All he want to do was place her small hand in his, look her in the eye and assure her that everything will be okay. But he couldn’t. He cleared his throat “Um okay also, don’t let the conversation get off topic, we want as many hints as to where Lacy could be, her…condition-”

A glaze glimmered across (y/n)’s eyes. The saddest glimmer the young profiler had ever seen. Reid could see she was trying to hold it together.

“We’ll all be here with you. Your father, Rossi, all of us.” (y/n) nodded, a lone tear escaping her.

Instinctively, Reid’s hand lay gently on top of her own. He gave in to yearning. The second (y/n) and Reid finally connected, a new star found its way into the sky. A rosebud bloomed and all the birds sang.

“I’ll be there.” He concluded.

(y/n)’s heart was fighting its way out of her chest. “Okay…” She began. “I can do this, we can do this.”

Reid nodded.

“For Lacy.”

“(y/n), Reid. We’re all set up. Ready when you are.” Garcia announced from across the room.

Reid quickly detracted his hand, (y/n) instantly felt a sense of loss and longing for its return.

Taking a deep breath, (y/n) responded back with a (hopefully) confident sounded “I’m ready.”

She sharply stood up and found her way over to the large table where the rest of the team had already crowded around. A speaker sat in the center, as well as veins of wires spreading between all sorts of machinery.

Taking a seat next to her father, she felt his hand make its way to her shoulder.

“You’ve got this, (y/n). I’m right here next to you. She can’t hurt you from here.” Hotch told his shaking daughter. She leaned into his hand before sitting back up straight.

“Okay… turn it on.”

Garcia reached across the table grabbing the phone. Holding down the power button, the screen began to light up. The room got silent.

36 seconds.

36 seconds of sheer panic.

36 seconds of pure silence.

36 seconds and (y/n) and Spencer Reid’s eyes did not leave one and others.

The hum of a ringtone slices through the silence. The tension cut short.

“Show time.” Rossi says quietly, shooting (y/n) a look of encouragement.

(y/n) looks to her father one last time before grabbing the phone. “Hello?” She asks. Struggling to hear anything past the bulldozing beat of her screaming heart.

Garcia connects the phone to the speaker so everyone could hear.

There was a low trill which was slowly getting louder. a laugh. not a maniacal laugh. more like a hysterical, painful, uncontrollable roar.

All eyes across the table dart to one and other, not entirely sure of how to proceed.

The laughing finally ceases. “It’s good to hear from you, (y/n). I’ve missed you.” The woman drawls.

A shiver ran down her spine. “Do you have Lacy?” (y/n) ignored the tremble in her voice, using all of her power to not burst into tears.

The woman on the phone chuckled once more. “You mean the bitch that won’t stop whining and screaming?! I’m surprised you can’t hear her.”

Prentiss nodded and whispered in a hushed tone “This is a good sign Lacy’s still alive.”

Morgan leaned over to Garcia. “You got it, baby girl?” He asked

“Just need a little longer to work my magic” Garcia responded.

“C-can i talk to her?” (y/n) asked.

Spencer looks to her worryingly. As if trying to warn her, she may not like what she hears.

There was a slight pause, the static on the line held steady.

“I think that’s going to have to be a no.” The woman on the phone decided. “Bye now, (y/n) See you soon.” She said

Before (y/n) could even process, the line goes dead. She instantly looks to Garcia. “We’ve got a location!” She announces

A big sigh of relief falls over the table.

Hotch stands quickly, grabbing his jacket. “Right, let’s head out.”

:: :: ::

Crammed in the SUV, Hotch and (y/n) took the front two seats, with Hotch driving. Spencer and Rossi took the back two seats, and the others traveled in a operate vehicle.

“So we can definitely determine that you have come in contact with this unsub before, or at least she has come in contact with you.” Spencer piped up while Hotch weaved through traffic.

“Did you recognize their voice?”Rossi asks (y/n).

(y/n) was once again fiddling with the rings on her fingers, “Uh…no, I don’t think I did.” The entire car ride her thoughts felt like the static on the other end of that phone call. She couldn’t think of any thing other than Lacy. Hoping, pleading that she would be okay.

A petit blue house at the end of a road was surrounded by flashing sirens and yellow tape. This was it. (y/n) thought. They were getting Lacy back.

Hopping out of the van, (y/n) was instantly fitted with a bulletproof vest. Her father, also wearing a vest, made his way towards her. “Listen, there’s a chance that we’re going to need you in there. I’ll do everything in my power to make sure it doesn’t come to that. But I need you to be ready… just in case, okay?” Hotch looked at his daughter, the pair both had matching vests and matching teary eyes.

Not letting any tears spill, (y/n) nodded harshly. “Okay, I just can’t wait for this to be over.”

Hotchner sighed and agreed. “Me too kid-“ Placing his hands on her shoulders, he continued “We’ve got to go in now. I love you, (y/n). Always.” He pulled her into a welcome bone-crushing hug.

“I love you too, Dad.” She whispered, before letting go, and watching her dad, Prentiss and Morgan file into the old house, after kicking down the door of course.

Looking to her left, (y/n) noticed the doe-eyed genius had stayed behind. “Aren’t you supposed to be in there too?” She inquired. Not really caring about the answer, more just trying to distract from the deafening static that comes with a side of panic and trauma.

Reid smiled slightly. “Oh I asked to stay behind with you. Just so…you know, in case you do need to go in, you don’t have to be by yourself.”

This was the first time (y/n) had seen Spencer less than 100% sure of what he was saying. But she couldn’t help but admit the relief and gratitude she felt after hearing this.

Looking him in the eyes, that familiar magnetism returned. “Thank you.”

:: :: ::

Almost 6 minutes had gone by, and (y/n) was getting nervous.

“What do you think is taking them so long?” (y/n) asked Spencer.

Just as he was about to respond, both radios attached to their vests began to sound. Amidst the harmony of static and beeping, the pair could make out Prentiss’ voice saying. “Bring (y/n) in. I repeat, bring (y/n) in. Slowly.”

(y/n)’s heart sunk. “Fuck.” Was all that she could muster up.

Instinctively, Spencer reached for (y/n)’s hand once more, this time with no plan of letting go. “Hey, it’s okay (y/n). I’ll be right here with you.”

Following his lead, (y/n) could barely feel her legs. Entering the building, she quickly assessed the room. To her left, Morgan and Prentiss had their guns drawn, following their aim, she saw the back of a blonde woman’s head, she was scrabbling around screeching, fighting (y/n)’s father. Through the shock and haze, (y/n) couldn’t really process what was going on entirely. Looking even more to the right, she noticed Lacy, strapped to a chair, with a gag made of cloth surpassing whatever she was trying to say.

This was what it took to break (y/n) out of the daze. Making eye contacted with her missing, presumed dead roommate after days of worrying created a wave of emotion to crash through her. Sobbing, she screamed out “LACY!” Slipping out of Reid’s grasp and running towards her helpless friend.

The commotion between Hotch and the blonde woman halted, “(y/n)! It is just wonderful to see you again.” The familiar voiced drawled.

(y/n) looked towards the woman, instantly noting the large blade dangling between her thumb and finger. Finally, (y/n) made eye contact with the woman. The woman who killed amber. The woman who kidnapped and tortured Lacy. The woman who looked a bit too familiar.

“Sylvia.” (y/n) finally matched a name to that devious smile.

Sylvia chuckled. “Oh, so you DO remember me.”

Of course she did. Sylvia was (y/n)’s old neighbor. A few weeks after moving in, (y/n) had met Sylvia one evening when they both arrived home at the same time. After some introductory small talk, (y/n) was invited in, though she didn’t want to be rude, she had already had such a long day at work and was ready to go to bed. Politely declining, in the following weeks she would see Sylvia every day. It seemed no matter what time (y/n) would come home, Sylvia would be there too. It was then things started to take a turn. Frequently, (y/n)’s power would go out, she’d awake to find her front door was wide open or that a faucet had been left on. She didn’t stay in that apartment for very long.

(y/n) quite literally hadn’t a tear left to shed. “Why are you doing this?” .

Lessening the grip on the blade, Sylvia became once again fixated on (y/n). (y/n) held her gaze, knowing what she was doing.

“All…all I’ve wanted from you, was a friend. I offered you tea. I tried to hang out with you. And what did you do?? YOU TURNED AROUND AND MOVED ACROSS TOWN WITH THOSE TWO BITCHES.” She was screaming now.

Noting the vulnerability. Spencer took the opportunity to kick the blade out of Sylvia’s hand.

“GO!” (y/n) cried as her father roughly grabbed Sylvia’s arms and forced them behind her back. “Don’t you ever even THINK about hurting my daughter ever again.” He threatened, venom spilling from his lips.

Walking her out of the door. (y/n) rushed over to Lacy, along side Prentiss and Reid. Spencer unbound her hands while Prentiss and (y/n) worked on untying the gag. The moment she was released she threw her arms over (y/n) in a roaring sob of relief.

“Oh god, oh god. Thank you.” Lacy cried.

:: :: ::

The paramedics came in to take Lacy away to the hospital. Because of her fragility mentally and physically, no visitors were allowed to go with her for the time being.

Before they knew it, the case was over. It had never felt real.

Back in that SUV with her father, Spencer and Rossi, (y/n) couldn’t help but smile. Lacy was okay.

It was a longer drive back, there was no need to rush. The sun was setting. The highway lines glowed against the purple sky. An orange halo fell onto all of them. Glancing up into the rearview mirror, (y/n) caught Spencer’s eye. He smiled towards her. Her chest fluttered. That was a quiet drive, but none of them seemed to mind.

:: :: ::

FOUR MONTHS LATER

It took about a week and a half for (y/n) to finish moving and unpacking all of the boxes in her new apartment. Though she had garnered some help from her father and Rossi.

On a warm summer Friday, (y/n) had decided to invite the BAU team over for a house-warming dinner party. Of course, her cooking would not be as excellent as Rossi’s homemade Italian cuisine she had come to know and love. Since Sylvia, Hotchner had been a lot more open about bringing (y/n) into the office. She had formed quite a bond with the team members, specifically a certain cardiganned doe eyed genius.

It was 5PM now, 1 hour until she told everyone to come. (y/n) wore sweats as she attempted to makeup her face a little. It was then that the doorbell rang. Jumping up, (y/n) only assumed that it was her father. He was always way too early. Opening the door, she was shocked to see Spencer standing there.

“Oh! Hey Spence.” She invited him in, instantly becoming overly aware of what she was wearing, how she was standing and only having one eyebrow done. Being so fixated on this, she didn’t recognize the unusual nervousness Reid was exhibiting. He rocked back on forth on his feet, not being able to find the right words.

“Hey, uh, sorry I’m so early. I just wanted to talk to you about something real quick before everyone else got here.” He managed to stumble out.

(y/n) nodded for him to continue, feeling slightly worried.

“Do you remember when we first met? On the floor of the bullpen at the BAU?” He posed, somewhat out of nowhere.

(y/n) smiled fondly. “Of course I do, silly.”

“Well,” Reid started up again. “Ever since that morning, I have never been the same.” He stopped abruptly, checking in with (y/n), making sure he wasn’t scaring her.

(y/n)’s heart skipped a beat, “Go on…” She prompted.

“It’s just that, every time I look at you, my brain slows down. All I can think about is you. I don’t even have to be in the same room as you, but If I think of you, which I do often, you’re all I can focus on. At first I thought there was something wrong with me, but then, I realized that this wasn’t a bad thing.”

A small smile found it’s way to (y/n)’s face. Hopefully she was correct about the direction that this was going.

“You see, (y/n), I WANT to only think about you, because when I do, I feel as though the sun is dancing all around me. When we look at each other, It feels like magic. Like the world was made for us to be in the same room. Please, tell me you feel it too.” Reid’s ramblings pause.

Sighing, (y/n) takes a step closer to him. “Well it’s about time you said something. I was worried it was just me.” Her smile widened as did his.

“Thank god.” Spencer quickly muttered, and before she knew it his large hands were on the sides of her face slipping into her hair. The moment their lips connected it were as if lightening had escaped from within them. It was electrifying.

(y/n) and Spencer made their way onto the couch as their hands gripped all over each other.

An electrical storm of love and soul consumed them. Breaking apart only to catch their breath.

Suddenly a loud chime made it’s way from the door. (y/n) shot up straight. “Shit what time is it??”.

Spencer glanced at his watch. “5:58” He reported.

Getting up, she whispered just incase whoever was behind the door had recently acquired super hearing. “Can you get the door? I have to finish getting ready. Also, you should probably fix your hair so you don’t look like we just made out for 40 minutes.” With a wink she left the young agent with a passionate kiss before running off to her room.

Frantically completing her other eyebrow and applying lip gloss, (y/n) slipped on a new sundress. Past the door she could hear a couple of familiar voices. Taking a breath she smoothed out her dress and opened the door.

In her living room, she found a JJ, Garcia, Morgan and her father. While the girls complimented her look, she gave her dad a quick hug as they waited for the rest of the team to arrive.

Emerging from the kitchen with two glasses of water, was an awestruck Reid. He not-so-subtly looked her up and down before shortly clearing his throat and handing her a glass.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d think boy wonder had a crush.” Morgan chuckled. Almost everyone found this amusing. However, Hotch’s face didn’t show even a glimmer of amusement.

Brushing it off swiftly, (y/n) and Spencer subconsciously stood a little farther apart than normal.

The night continued on as the rest of the team showed up. At this point, everyone was at the very least a little bit drunk. Some more than others (Prentiss went hard).

While everyone was laughing huddled around the loud kitchen, Spencer took this opportunity to lean and whisper to (y/n). “I like the lipstick.”

(y/n) blushed, something she wasn’t quite used to the feeling of. “It’s a good thing you interrupted me before I had the chance to put it on, otherwise your face may be stained right about now.”

He jokingly rolled his eyes at her as they seamlessly rejoin the conversation.

At the dinner table, the riotous chatter continued, and somewhere, at some point, Spencer and (y/n)’s hands had found their way into each others. Out of sight from everyone else, however nothing else was on their minds.

:: :: :: FIN!!

Taglist: @ilovecriminalmindswithallmyheart @ellvswriting @screechingwagontacoprofessor @l0ve-0f-my-life @where-we-write @etherealgubler @sparklingkeylimepie @eleventhdoctorsangel @tpwksunflower @fandomgirl17 @chims-kookies @malfoys-demigod @thatweirdblonde @daviddobriksleftnut @kingworm @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @pizzarollsfordayz @heckington @ssaic-jareau

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #aaron hotchner #Aaron hotch #hotchner #Hotch!daughter #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #derek morgan #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler imagine #fanfic #imagine

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boommmpop · 3 years

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Preview

Ladies, gents, unicorns, little green aliens, non-binary folk, puppies and all else interested: I have a sort of sneak peek of my Shoni fic. Imma post it here real quick and if anyone could give me feedback it’d be mighty appreciated because I don’t know if I have the characters down yet. Just an opening scene between Toni and Marti for now.

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Toni Shalifoe spent the first week of her senior year at Hopewell Lake Highschool making a conscious effort to stand out as little as possible. Between dodging her ex-girlfriend in the halls, skirting Martha’s questions about her new foster parents, and just generally keeping a low profile to avoid giving her basketball coach reason to regret letting her back on the team, she barely had the headspace to register anything going on around her. All things considered, it’s really no surprise that it took until the second week of school for her to become aware of the existence of one Shelby Goodkind.

Now, Hopewell Lake was not a particularly liberal school district, no one would accuse the school of being inclusive or socially aware. However, the moment Toni heard that deep southern twang through the school’s PA system during homeroom on the second Monday of her senior year she realized they had reached a new low.

“Well hello y’all. My fellow firebirds, I hope y’all had a great first week of school and are excited and ready for the new week ahead of us. And let me tell you, what a week it is shaping up to be!”

Toni had not heard that voice before, an accent like that was not likely to go unnoticed in Hopewell Lake. Yet, for some reason, as she glanced around at the other students, she realized that no one seemed to be particularly surprised by the disembodied voice invading the classroom. Toni turned to Martha, who was doodling something in the first pages of her still spanking new notebook, apparently paying no mind to the announcer who was now listing the after-school clubs and activities which were looking for new members. As if sensing she was being watched, Martha stopped her doodling and turned to her friend.

Toni couldn’t find it in herself to actually ask a anything out loud, not while that foreign voice was still grating her ears, so she just stared at Martha, a several unasked questions in her eyes. Martha took a second to catch up, before finally shaking her head.

“Shelby Goodkind is doing morning announcements now. She started last Friday, but you weren’t here for homeroom.” Martha explained, as if that name should mean something to Toni. Toni had been late to school the previews Friday, for reasons she was not about to get into with her best friend, so she decided to ignore the question caught in between Martha’s words and keep the conversation on the topic of this new girl she was just finding out about.

“Shelby who?” Toni’s words had Martha shaking her head again, she did that a lot and Toni briefly wondered if she should take offense.

“Shelby Goodkind, the new girl from Texas.” Well, no surprise there, Toni could have figured that part out on her own. “You had no idea did you? Seriously Toni? She is all anyone is talking about”.

“Whatever, she sounds real full of herself.” While Toni would be the first to admit that nothing interesting ever happened in Hopewell Lake, she didn’t find the arrival of some white girl from Texas particularly newsworthy. “What happened to Devon anyway?”

Devon Pierce was the president of the AV club and had very recently taken over morning announcements, Toni couldn’t imagine that he had given up his post willingly.

“He got caught making out in the AV room with that girl from the Mathleets, they both got suspended. How do you not know any of this?” Martha let out a quiet laugh, amused by her friend’s complete lack of awareness of the world around her. Meanwhile Shelby Goodkind wished her “fellow firebirds” an “extra awesome day”. Toni already hated her.

Martha smiled at the cheesy farewell. “Shelby is actually super nice, I have home-ec with her”.

“Figures,” Toni rolled her eyes “Little miss Texas is probably training to be a glorified housewife. Why you decided to take that class is beyond me, Marty. It’s like patriarchal indoctrination or something”.

“It’s an easy A.” Martha didn’t even bother arguing with Toni on the benefits of practical skills in the curriculum and how they were open to all students so it wasn’t really reinforcing gender roles. “And need I remind you that you took woodshop last year? Isn’t that like, surrendering to the stereotype?”

Toni shrugged.

“I just like doing things with my hands…” she finally replied with a smirk.

#shoni #shoni fic #fanfic #shelby goodkind #masc!shelby #toni shalifoe #the wilds

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upsteadhq · 3 years

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stay with me

prompt: requested by anon, who said “a role flip where hailey gets critically injured and jay is the one loosing his mind” and of course i was going to do it because, well, who would say no to worried!jay? so thank you anon for the request, and for your kind words on my fic “attempts”, it truly did brighten my morning, i hope this is what you were after <3

title is from he is we’s ‘kiss it better’ as well as the iconic 7x10 line “stay with me, jay”

Today was the first time in a while Jay woke up in bed on his own. It felt like forever since he had done this, and he and Hailey hadn’t been sure on the whole idea when it had been suggested to them a few weeks ago at Molly’s, it had been his brother that had proposed the idea, saying it might be fun to stick with the traditional “not staying in the same place the week before the wedding” route, so they agreed in an effort to shut him up about the fact.

He missed being able to reach out and wrap his arm around Hailey, to convince her to stay in bed just a little bit longer with lazy kisses up and down her neck before having to jump out from under the sheet quickly and skip having breakfast and coffee at home and instead grab one at the district because they were running late, if they hadn’t been interrupted that was. What could he say, sometimes the lazy kisses turned into something a little more and they would lose track of time.

But there was no one there to do that to this morning, so Jay begrudgingly rolled out from underneath the thick sheet, not that he had really been underneath it - the sheet was too thick for the current summer heatwave overtaking Chicago right now and he had been awoken in the middle of the night to him sweating buckets so he had kicked it off.

He checked his phone sat on the nightstand, unplugging the charger from the port and smiling at the message from Hailey already waiting on his home screen sent under ten minutes ago, presumably when she woke up.

(07:02 - Hailey) Good morning soon-to-be husband. Just 6 more days

Jay quickly types back a response to let her know that he was awake too.

(07:10 - Jay) The day can’t come by fast enough

He hit send and then padded out of the bedroom, the smile immediately gone when he almost tripped up the pile of somewhat damp clothes placed right outside the bathroom door, in other words two steps out of the room he had just walked out of.

A mumbled curse escapes his lips as he carries on down the hall, finding his brother in the kitchen making himself a coffee.

“Seriously? The wet clothes on the floor, you’re still doing that?” Jay asks, gaining the attention of his brother quickly, Will turning sharply at the sound of Jay’s voice coming from behind him, almost making the older one drop the mug held in his hand.

After a moment to compose himself Will sighs, putting the mug down on the kitchen island and grabbing another empty one, sliding it along the top for Jay. “Sorry, I can’t help it,” he says before furrowing his eyebrows. “And whatever happened to not complaining to your host about the accommodation?” He questions.

Jay shrugs. “I don’t remember agreeing to that,” he mumbles, not meeting his older brother’s gaze and instead he just takes the outstretched mug from his hand and walks past him to the coffee pot. “And you were the one that said it, I didn’t specifically ask for this, I was quite happy being able to see my fiancée.”

Will rolls his eyes dramatically. “Shut up, you see her every day at work.”

The younger brother then looks up from pouring the coffee into the mug. “Speaking of work aren’t you supposed to be there right now?”

Will shakes his head. “Not for another two minutes.”

Jay’s phone on the counter beside him, making him lift up his attention from the mug to see what it was. A smile automatically appears on his face when he sees a text from Hailey, with a blurry photo attached. He slides it across, opening his messages and there he can see the photo better, it’s no longer blurry, and he didn’t think it was possible but the grin grew wider.

(07:13 - Hailey) I agree. Miss having someone there to clean up the mess, means I have to do it

The photo sent just underneath the message was one of the dining table, leftovers from breakfast everywhere. Sitting in one of the chairs was the same, it layered over the face of their two-year-old daughter, Macie. The girl had a cheeky grin on her face and oatmeal in the ends of her blonde hair, where clearly it had been accidentally dipped in the bowl. Her pajamas were covered in the food and her hands were slapping a specific spot of the mess on the table. She looked very proud of herself.

His brother’s voice rips Jay back up from his phone. “What you grinning at?” He asks over the mug in his own hands.

Jay turns the phone around so Will could see, a smile appearing on Will’s face at the sight of the picture. Jay slowly shakes his head as his older brother looks up from the phone, Jay taking it back so he could look at it again. “You know I saw her last night, but I already miss her.”

Will smirks, chugging the last of his coffee and then putting the empty mug down on the kitchen island once he catches sight of the time. He says a quick goodbye to his brother before having to rush out the door.

Jay finishes his rest of his coffee in the silence of the kitchen, putting both his and Will’s mug in the dishwasher for the cycle after dinner before heading back through to the bathroom for a quick shower before work, taking a moment to pick up the damp clothes from the floor and put them in the laundry basket because Will wouldn’t do it.

xxx

When Jay arrives into the district he’s greeted pleasantly by Trudy, as pleasantly as you could get from the desk sergeant at least, and then he makes his way up into the Intelligence bullpen, finding everyone already there.

He gives them all a smile as he passes by their desks before shrugging his lightweight jacket off and putting on the back of his chair, sitting down opposite Hailey, offering her the widest smile of them all.

“Nice to see you decided to join us.” Hailey jokes, looking across the two desks to him.

Jay leans back into his chair. “I’m sure it is.” He replies with a subtle wink in her direction, gaining a quick roll of Hailey’s eyes and then she turns around in her chair, trying to hide the smirk upturning the corner of her lips.

The moment is quickly over however when Voight leaves his office and walks over to the board, pulling it into the center of the room and starts briefing the unit on their new case.

An hour later someone was called to chase down a possible witness and Jay and Hailey being the only ones left in the bullpen - the others had also gone out to check out alibis and security footage from the surrounding area - they were sent on their way. On the drive over Jay quickly looks to Hailey, his eyes only on her for a second before back in the road.

“Did Mace go down alright last night? I know how difficult it is for her to sleep without my nightly bedtime story.”

Hailey chuckles, watching him from the corner of her eye. “You give yourself too much credit, she went down just fine without you last night.”

“Ouch.” Jay mumbles, dropping his face down to show a forced hurt expression.

Hailey then tilts her head to one side, fully turning it so she could see his profile. She reaches one hand up and places it atop his on the steering wheel, giving it a gentle squeeze before putting her hand back down in her lap.

Once they arrive at the house Jay stops the truck and they both step out simultaneously. Jay makes his way around the hood of the car and joins Hailey on that side but before they could make their way up to the house the sound of gunfire startled them both, Jay grabbing hold of Hailey’s shoulder and pulling her down into a squatted position just as another shot rings through their ears, the sound of the truck window directly above their heads smashing filling the air just after. Staying as low as they can they make their way around the other side of the truck, putting the vehicle between them and the shooter. Jay takes a shot at the window he could see the muzzle poking out of, scaring the gun away as Hailey radios it in, requesting back-up to their location.

Before the back-up could arrive however the sound of a scream coming from inside makes them jump up and advance toward the house and kick the door in and start their search in the house. In the living room they found a body of a woman on the floor.

Hailey kept watch around them as Jay knelt down, putting his fingers against her neck and leaving them there for a moment before meeting Hailey’s quick glance, shaking his head after he had felt nothing. He stood back up and they carried on their search around the house, clearing rooms as they did. When they made it to the kitchen however they were stopped by the man, said to be the witness they were there to speak to, hiding behind the wall with the gun pointed shakily at them.

Hailey and Jay didn’t lower theirs, they had seen many of these scenes in front of them before. The obvious uneasiness of the man’s hands could lead to one of two things - him dropping the gun quickly or another round would be let off.

Jay spoke in a calm manner, not wanting to scare the man anymore than he clearly was. “Chicago PD, lower your weapon and keep your hands where we can see them.”

The man shakes his head. “I didn’t mean to - I didn’t want to hurt her.”

Jay then nods. “I know,” he says, quickly carrying on but he doesn’t move his gun from up high and neither does Hailey. “But if you lower your gun and cooperate, we can talk to the State’s Attorney and work out a deal for you, but that will only happen if you put the gun down.”

It looks as though he was about to but all of a sudden he lifts it up higher, the tremors in his hand gone and he becomes swiftly confident pointing the gun toward the two detectives. He argues further for another minute before another round echoes through the room, and then another, and then another and then the gun gets thrown to the floor and the man bolts out of the back door.

Jay goes to follow him before catching the drop of someone in the corner of his eye. He looks over his shoulder to see Hailey on the floor, clutching her side and the thought of chasing the offender gets ditched as Jay throws his own gun back into the holster and kneels down beside her.

She’s insisting she’s fine the whole time he’s pulling at the strap of the vest to take it off, that it just knocked the wind out of her and that he should go after the offender.

“If patrol’s here they heard the shots. I’m not leaving you,” Jay shakes his head quickly, finally pulling the vest off of her left shoulder. “It didn’t go through, but it could have hit a rib.” He finds himself mumbling once he bunches her shirt upwards to see the skin underneath, making Hailey force a chuckle.

“Guess we might have to push the wedding back again, I was wondering what it would be this time,” she says, the words coming out gritted but despite that she carries on. “First a pregnancy, next a baby, then a huge profile case and now a bullet. What are we gonna tell people this time?” She asks, the words still an indicator on how much pain she was experiencing.

Jay tried to get her to keep her energy but he liked how she kept talking. If she was talking it meant she was alert, and if she was alert it meant she was okay - for the most part at least. After a beat he reached for his radio, having forgotten to do it before. “5021 George, officer down, I repeat officer down, need an ambo to 1812 South Racine Avenue. Offender is in the wind, blue jeans, dark sneakers, white jacket.”

The confirmation comes through the radio, telling them both there’s an ambulance on route and Jay spends the time keeping Hailey alert. As more time goes on he starts to notice her slowly drifting away, taking longer to answer questions and finish sentences, her eyelids starting to drop, the color drifting quickly away from her skin leaving her pale. The bullet didn’t penetrate through the skin, he didn’t know why this was happening and it wasn’t like he could apply pressure to try and slow the bleed. He kept tapping at her cheek to keep her awake, it working for the most part as they waited for the ambulance to show up.

“Hey no, you stay awake,” he tells her after he taps her face for the third time to knock her back into reality. “You’re not allowed to, remember? We made a deal, no dying.”

Hailey slowly nods. “I remember.” She responds, the words barely a whisper.

They may or may not have been a little drunk the night they made that deal just a couple months into their engagement the night they picked the first date for their wedding and it may or may not have been the night they conceived their daughter, but the deal was the one thing they can recall in full from that night, the other things were blurs here and there.

Jay gives her a smile at the fact she answered quicker than normal. “Good, good. Do you remember what we said the punishment was if one of us tried to break the deal?”

There’s a quiet mumble from Hailey before she shakes her head. “We made a punishment?”

Jay nods, repositioning himself so he sat up properly, squeezing her shoulder as he went to say what the punishment was before he catches the sharp movement from Hailey, the tight grimace as he touched her shoulder. The smile previously there is wiped away and replaced with concern. “Did you get hit there too?” He asks as he peeks through the neck of her shirt to see if there was bruising or a wound from a bullet.

The words were coming out basically inaudible, just small movements of the mouth as her eyelids dropped lower. “No, it just hurts.”

There wasn’t a bruise or wound so he brought the neck of her shirt back where it was before and then he notices just how pale she had become. She was white as a sheet and by the time he realized how close to unconsciousness she was it was too late, her slipping away before he could attempt to stop it.

He quickly reached for his radio, practically shouting through it. “5021 George, I need an ETA in that ambo.”

The response is immediate. “Ambo is one minute out.”

Jay curses, trying the tips of his fingers against the side of her face again but that doesn’t work.

The next minute was hell, nothing he was doing was working and she just wasn’t waking back up again. Eventually the paramedics came rushing in through the front door and made their way to the back of the house after Jay called them through.

He explained what had happened, how she had passed out a minute before and how she had kept getting more pale despite the fact the bullet didn’t go through the vest. They did their usual quick exam and then got Hailey loaded into the back of the ambo and Jay jumped in close behind, the ambo taking off toward Med as soon as the back doors slammed shut.

On the way over there Hailey kept slipping in and out of consciousness, being out-of-it when the ambo pulled into the bay and they moved her into the ED.

One of the paramedics guiding the gurney toward the room spoke. “Hailey Upton, GCS 8, heart rate 107, BP 75/50. She’s been in and out of consciousness the entire ride over here. Non-penetrating gunshot to the upper left abdomen and was complaining about pain in her left shoulder before she fainted.”

Doctor Marcel ordered the transfer on to the bed and the paramedics took the gurney back out, disappearing out of sight again as Jay stood alert in the doorway to the trauma room, watching as the doctor and nurses poked her with IV’s and prodded at her abdomen. Jay watched as Marcel's face dropped subtly and ordered an ultrasound and that’s when he spoke up.

“What’s going on?” He asks loudly from the doorway, making everyone look up momentarily toward him before the doctor puts his focus back on to Hailey, waving in his direction and Jay’s face scrunches up, wondering what that means before he feels someone’s arms wrap around him and pull him away. He fights it, kicking his legs because he just about couldn’t put the soles of his feet on the floor and waving his arms around, demanding to be out back down.

“Stop, Jay, you can’t stand there, they need all the space they can get.” The person behind him says, Jay quickly recognizing the voice as the one who belonged to his brother. Will puts him back down on to the floor and then stands in front of him, putting his hands out to stop Jay when he punches forward to try and go back to the room.

Jay fights against it again, trying to push past his brother but it doesn’t work. “Will just let me passed, I need to see what’s going on.”

Will shakes his head, stopping the brunette. “What you need is to stay out of the way, you can’t stand there.”

Jay huffs. “I won’t get in the way, I need to see what’s going on.” He says, not only fighting off his brother as he did but the tears filling up in his eyes, making it difficult to see what was going on anyway.

Will’s hands reach for Jay’s shoulders, only to have Jay swat them away quickly. “Protocol says you can’t.”

Jay’s eyes widen, making it easier for Will to see the emotion written clear in them. “What protocol?! She’s my fiancée, my partner, I’m allowed to stand there.” He replies, his voice raising and catching at the back of his throat, causing a subtle break.

Will sighs. “The protocol in emergency situations, nobody in the doorway for easy but quick transportation to an available OR. They need to save as much time as possible.”

The volume in Jay’s voice disappears and it’s all spoken cracked. “What’s going on?” He pleads.

Will gives his younger brother a reassuring nod. “I’ll find out.” He whispers, catching Jay in for a hug when the emotion eventually overwhelms him, kicking his balance off and knocking him off his feet and he slowly falls into Will’s open arms.

They stay like that for a beat before a commotion from behind Will, making them both part away from each other just in time to watch Marcel leave the room and make his way over toward them.

Marcel doesn’t waste a beat, getting the point straight away. “Jay, the FAST scan showed Hailey has a lot of internal bleeding in her abdomen, the force from the bullet caused her spleen to rupture and she’s unstable. It’s my best recommendation to perform a splenectomy and remove the organ in its entirety. Usually we wouldn’t jump to surgery but this is a very severe case. She’s still incoherent so as her next of kin it is your decision. Do I have permission to do the surgery?”

Jay quickly nods. “Yes, do everything you can for her.”

Marcel steps backwards into the room, coming back out moments later with two nurses wheeling the hospital bed toward the elevator. Will isn’t quick enough to react, Jay jumping forward and racing through the ED to the bedside, escaping his brother’s arms by a second.

He walks alongside the bed, grabbing hold of Hailey’s hand and giving her a forced smile when he sees her slightly awake. “You’re gonna be fine, Hailey, I promise you, and we’re gonna be able to get married when you’re out of here and then we’re gonna get to grow old together, just like we said. I’m gonna be with you every step of the way, I’m not gonna leave you,” he whispers to her before being pulled away by Will as the bed boards the elevator. “I love you, Hailey.” He adds, his voice slightly louder and he says it just in time, the steel doors shutting in his face.

Jay takes in a steadying breath and he just stands there, eyes glued to the doors in front of him. Quickly he loses it, spinning around on his heels and clutches on to his brother again, wrapping his arms around him and hiding his head in Will’s shoulder.

Will brings his hand up, patting Jay’s back and tightening the hug. Will doesn’t say anything, doesn’t move, just breathes calmly and listens to the quiet cries coming from his baby brother, allowing him to have all the time he needed to let it out, knowing it would be worse off if Jay kept it in.

xxx

Jay’s eyes stung. It had been just under an hour since Hailey had been taken upstairs to surgery and he hadn’t heard a word. The rest of the unit had showed up a few minutes after Hailey had been wheeled off and had taken Jay from Will’s arms, allowing the red-head to go back to work, and Kevin had then become the leaning post for Jay hold on to for another few minutes before he pulled away apologizing and then they were taken upstairs to wait in the appropriate waiting room. Since then everyone had been sat in the chairs silently.

Some of the other people in the room were looking through something on their phone, the odd few skimming through old newspapers and magazines kept on the ankle-high coffee tables and then there was the unit, who were looking around nervously and sunk into the uncomfortable chairs obsessively drinking their third coffee in time time they had been here. Jay was picking at the now non-existent fingernails on one hand and staring down the oddly coloured and stained carpet underneath his feet. Before that he had been rubbing the base of his fourth finger on his left hand, where in just six days there’s set to be a ring there but for the time being it’s still just an empty space waiting to be filled. It was probably going to be a lot more than six days until it did now, but he was used to that feeling, knowing the wedding would more than likely have to move again.

At least the first two times had been positive reasons.

He thought back to the first time, when Hailey had been acting off for a few days, being all distant. She wasn’t herself and when he confronted her about it, when he asked what was wrong she had just shook her head, muttering how she couldn’t do it before handing back over the ring. He remembers moping at the district until Will talked some sense into him and told him to speak to Hailey. He had gone back to the apartment to find her stood by the front door and once they went inside he gave a speech about how he wasn’t going to let a little bit of cold feet stop him unless she really didn’t want to get married.

"Jay, I didn't call off the wedding because of cold feet."

It takes a second before his face screws up with confusion, him sending her a slightly very confused look. "Then why did you?"

She gives him a smile as she shrugs her shoulders lightly. "Because I didn't want to be eight months pregnant when we got married," she replies and she watches the confusion drain from Jay's face at what she said, his face becoming very straight, "I had a hunch a few days ago but it was too early to be able to take a test, and I didn't want to tell you until I was sure because I know how you felt about having kids because of your own dad and I didn't want to freak you out if it was noth-"

She's cut off suddenly by Jay stepping forward and leaning over, locking his lips against hers whilst cupping her face with his hands, tangling the ends of his fingers into the loose strands of hair she had draped over her shoulders. She smiles against his lips, just beginning to move her hands up his arms as he parted them apart a few moments later after the initial kiss, leaning his forehead against hers for a beat before edging his jaw forward again, putting a more gentle kiss to her lips this time but it was over quicker.

A beat passes of just the two of them leaning with their heads still inches apart before she lets out a single breathless laugh. "Nothing." She whispers, finishing off her sentence that had been cut short by his mouth.

He remembers what had happened next, how the rest of the night had been spent in pure bliss. About how the next few months were spent in pure bliss. About how the last few years were just spent in pure bliss.

And now everything could be crumbling apart. It could have already fallen down and he wouldn’t know about it, not just yet anyway.

He felt sick to his stomach and he knew there’s nothing he could do to make that feeling go away, that it wouldn’t leave until he knew about Hailey and her being out of surgery, and yet that could still be hours away.

He doesn’t move his gaze away from the floor as he continued to pick at his bleeding nails, finding comfort in having something to distract himself, even if it wasn’t ideally what he should be doing.

There’s scenarios rushing through his head. What-ifs taking over. He should have stopped it. Maybe if he hadn't missed that window shot outside the house this wouldn’t have happened. Maybe if he hadn't been so calm in the kitchen. What if he had dropped the offender to the floor before he got the sudden confidence spike? He easily would have been able to pounce on the guy and take the gun from his hands so why didn’t he?

Because you might have been shot yourself, dummy. He can hear Hailey’s voice in his head respond to the question he posed himself.

Although the voice was right. With the nerves clear in that guy’s hand there had been so many ways that situation could have gone wrong, ending up in a more fatal shot to one of them than the one Hailey took.

But still, he should have done it. He should have reacted faster. He was trained professionally, for the army, to be quick and have fast decisions, but he still pulled back and didn’t notice the signs early enough. He should have taken the man down there and then, disarm him before he shot, but he didn’t and now look where he was.

He feels a warm hand rest on his back and it makes him jump in his seat, shooting his head up to stare at the person standing beside him. At first the bright light coming from the ceiling blinds him, he had been looking down to the floor longer than first thought before he sees the gentle reassuring smile of Kevin hovering over him.

Kevin hesitantly sits down beside him, keeping his hand pressed against the detective’s back before pulling it away when Jay leans back in the chair to avoid having it crushed in between the two.

Jay props his elbow up on the arm of the chair and bunches his hand into a fist and leans his temple into it. After a beat the detective slowly nods, speaking his first words since Hailey had been taken into the elevator - until now he had been a silent statue sat there. “I should have stopped it.” He whispers and in the corner of his eye he could see everyone in the unit turn to look at him from their own seats, the surprise to hear him talking written on their faces.

Kevin’s face is the only one to drop though. “Jay you didn’t know, there was no way you could have stopped it.”

Jay’s voice is a lot more urgent this time, compared to the silent words he had just spoken before. “Well I should have tried.”

Kevin sends a quick look over his shoulder to the rest of the unit and they all look as lost as he feels. He doesn’t know what else to say to the detective, so he just brings his hand back up and puts it atop Jay’s shoulder.

Jay has to swallow back the lump in the back of his throat and the teary eyes that accompanied it. At this point surely he should be cried out, but the tears just kept on coming and he was quite surprised he still had that much water in his body left.

He leans back further into his fist, resting that half of his body weight on that one elbow propped up on the arm of the chair, and just lets everything play out again in silence.

xxx

He wasn’t sure at which point he fell asleep or how he even managed to, but the next thing he knows his shoulder is being shaken and someone is calling his name into his ear. He bolts up, looking around the room quickly to see what all the commotion was about before seeing doctor Marcel stood in the waiting room, being surrounded by the unit.

Jay jumps up from the seat, his legs a little uneasy at first but he gets to the other side of the waiting room without falling over so he’s calling that a plus.

Once he reaches the rest of the group and basically pushes to the front, Marcel shakes his head, gesturing for Jay to follow him. “She’s awake, wants to see you.”

Jay quickly follows, keeping less than a step behind the doctor at all times on the path across the floor to the surgical recovery. Marcel can barely open the door before Jay is already in there, walking over to the bed.

Hailey smiles when she sees him and there’s a giant wash of relief that comes over him, the weight he didn’t know was there lifted up from his shoulders.

He stops at the edge of the bed and leans down, putting a soft but long kiss to the top of her head, his lips upturned the entire time. After a moment he pulls himself away and stays put as doctor Marcel moves to the foot of the bed, running through the important information.

“You’re gonna be in the hospital the next few days so we can monitor you, and you should be fully recovered in about six weeks.” Marcel says, gaining a breathless chuckle from Jay.

“Guess we’re gonna have to push the wedding back again.” Jay cuts in.

Marcel nods. “Just a little bit.”

Marcel runs through a few more things before whispering how he’ll be back in a few minutes to go through things in more detail, and that he’d let the two of them have a moment alone, before sticking to his word and leaving the room.

Jay sat on the very edge of the bed, slowly grabbing hold of the hand that didn’t have an IV line in, rubbing the pad of his fingers along the back of her hand, giving her a weak smile. “See? I told you you would be fine.”

Hailey’s eyebrows knit together and she briefly looks down to where his hand lay on top of hers. “Did you mean what you said earlier? About growing old together?”

“You remember that?” Jay asks, gaining a nod from Hailey but nothing more. He sits sideways a little further so he could face her better. “Hailey, we’re getting married, of course I meant it. There’s no one else I’d rather grow old with.”

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rohad93 · 3 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Moonlit Forever After Finale

Luz adjusted her tie for the fourth time in as many minutes. She is so. Fucking. Nervous.

They’re due to start in a matter of ten minutes and she’d taken her place beneath the tree with Lilith, who is looking over a small paper with notes on it when she glanced up at Luz’s constant fidgeting.

“Are you alright, Luz?” she questioned her quietly.

“I don’t know... I’m just… really nervous,” she said, playing with her fingers.

“That’s understandable,” The eldest Clawthorne nodded. “It is a big change, even if you two have already been living together for three years now, but there’s no reason to be nervous, Amity would be pleased if you showed up in your pajamas,” Lilith chuckled to herself but Luz still looks like she wanted to throw up.

Lilith hummed thoughtfully, the girl needed a distraction before she blew her lunch onto the floor, and considering who she’s marrying, Lilith decides to share something with Luz that even Eda doesn’t know.

“Luz, did you know I was in love once,” she finally said and Luz whipped to look at her, eyes blown wide.

“What, you!?” She blinked and Lilith huffed a laugh under her breath, cocking a brow at her. “I mean, you’re great and all!… I just never expected that… but, oh wow… backstory; tell me!” she grinned and Lilith rolled her eyes.

“Yes, before I joined the emperor’s coven, there was a boy, but… after I was accepted, I was so consumed with guilt about what I did to Edalyn I threw everything I had into rising in the coven’s ranks so I could find her cure that I inevitably ended up letting that relationship wither on the vine and he moved onto someone else.” she frowned, eyes distant. “Just one of the many things I regret.”

“Oh, wow. I’m sorry, Lily.” Luz frowned.

“It was my own fault, everything that has plagued my life has been a mess of my own creation. I regret many things, but nothing will change them now, I simply must live with them.” Lilith gave a small shrug. “That’s one thing I can never make up for now.”

“Anyone I know?” she asked and then watched, fascinated as Lilith’s face flushed a little.

“Yes, actually… you’re rather familiar with this man.” she glanced away and now Luz was intrigued.

“Who?”

“Your soon to be father-in-law.”

Luz choked on her own spit at that.

“Alador Blight!?” she cried and the guests look at her curiously before going back to talking amongst themselves. Lilith is red-faced. “You used to date Alador?” Luz doesn’t know what else to say to that.

“Yes,” Lilith nodded and Luz suddenly remembered something.

“Is that who you went to the fall shower with way back when?” She knows she hit it square on the head when Lilith darkened further.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” The older witch mumbled and Luz chuckled. She and Amity had gone to watch the fall shower again just two weeks ago and this triggered the memory.

“Wow… plot twist, I never saw that coming…”

Lilith just hummed. Luz pressed a hand to her chin, thinking.

“He really took a downgrade didn’t he…?” she asked thoughtfully, which made Lilith blink before laughing.

“I won’t speak ill of Odalia, despite my less than pleasant feelings about her, though, that has much more to do with Amity than Alador.”

“I will, she’s a bitch,” Luz scowled and Lilith snorted.

Luz suddenly has so many questions, was that why Lilith had taken Amity on as her pupil as a kid? Or was it just because Amity was powerful and had nothing to do with any previous romantic feelings for her dad?

She doesn’t have time to ask them though, it seems Lilith’s ploy to distract her worked because Willow is peeking out from behind the curtain and giving them a thumbs up. The moon is overhead now; it’s time.

“Ready?” Lilith smiled.

“No!” Luz hissed, and her palms are starting to sweat. She is so not ready by any stretch of the imagination!

A lilting piano starts to play, It’s nothing like the classic wedding march she is familiar with, but it’s pretty, though the soothing melody does absolutely nothing for her jangling nerves. She glanced at her moms in the front row behind her and Camila smiled while Eda gave her a fanged grin and a thumbs up and mouthed ‘You got this’. She wiped her sweaty hands on her pants, hopefully, that won’t stain...

She straightened and took a deep breath, ready or not, here she went.

The curtains pulled aside and Gus and Willow appeared, linked arm in arm, they smiled brightly as they made their way down the aisle, followed a few moments later by Viney and Emira, and in the back of her mind, Luz knows that it’s their wedding she’ll be attending next. Viney had already confided in her three months ago that she’d bought a ring, but she wanted to wait a little while after their wedding to propose, the last thing she wanted to do was upstage the two of them, which Luz appreciated.

She snorted, nerves abated a bit when Edric and King came walking down the aisle, King was adorable in his little blue vest.

“Are you ready?” Gus whispered in her ear as he came to stand at her side.

She made a distressed sound in the back of her throat and across from her, Willow smiled as he quickly patted her shoulder.

The music changed and the guests turned to look while Luz swallowed thickly. Then Amity appeared, arm wrapped through Alador’s.

Luz sucked in a sharp breath, stunned speechless.

She doesn’t think anyone in any realm has ever looked as beautiful as Amity does right now, and no one ever could. Her mouth is bone dry, but her mother was right, she’s not nervous anymore, her entire body is tingling as her gaze locked with Amity’s, whose smiling that little smile Luz knew so well.

Her mother was right about the dress too.

The whole situation smacked her like a raging slitherbeast and she’s trying to blink away the tears gathering in the corners of her eyes. How did she get this lucky? She has no concrete answer but is happy she did all the same.

Amity doesn’t know how she keeps moving down the aisle, because once her eyes land on Luz they feel like jelly. Her brother hadn’t been kidding and she should have been more prepared, though she doesn’t think she could have ever been prepared for this.

Luz has always cut a sharp, immaculate profile when she actually gave an effort, but their’s something almost ethereal about her as she is now, the white of her suit almost glows beneath the soft light of the blue moon and the light spells that float in the air around them. Her heart is beating hard against her ribs, but it’s not nerves that make it skip a beat. It’s the staggering wave of amazement and affection she feels for Luz, who she can tell now that she’s close enough to see, is doing her damnedest to hold back her tears. She recognized that scrunched up, rapidly blinking expression anywhere. It makes her own eyes sting.

Finally, she’s standing close enough to touch and her father smiled at her as Luz held out her hand and Amity gently pulled her arm from his to slip her hand into Luz’s. Alador nodded to Luz before slipping himself into his seat in the front row across from Camila and Eda.

“Hey.” Luz’s voice is barely a whisper that only Amity can hear.

“Hey, yourself.” she smiled back, voice just as low.

They don’t even hear Lilith as she began to speak to the crowd about why they’re all here and all the ceremonial spiel that is the norm at a wedding on the Boiling Isles.

Amity’s hand is warm in hers and Luz squeezed it gently, running her thumb over her knuckles. She’s still in awe, unable to take her eyes off Amity and how beautiful she is in that dress, under the blue moon’s light

She’s absolutely bewitching and Luz would gladly live under her spell for the rest of her life.

Amity is just as spellbound as Luz, watching the pink glow that the light spells are refracting from the grom tree bounce off Luz’s dark eyes, making them look alive as a gentle breeze rustles the tree’s blush-colored leaves. The shadows cast by the lights cut sharp lines across her jaw and neck that make Amity want to reach out and run her fingertips along them.

“....and they will now speak these promises to each other,” Lilith read loudly, jerking the two of them out of their love induced haze. How long had they been zoned out, staring at each other? Judging from the subtle smirk on Lilith’s face, a while.

“Amity, you may now say your vows,” Lilith said and she nodded, letting go of Luz’s right hand and pulling a small slip of paper from her pocket taking a deep breath, she could feel everyone’s eyes on her, but the only important ones were staring straight at her, smiling, no pressure in those warm brown eyes she adored.

"I've been advised to keep this short," she smiled and she swears she hears Emira snort behind her. "So here it is. Luz, I never thought I could be as incredibly happy as I am when I’m with you, that such a thing was even possible, but here we are, and I can hardly believe it’s real sometimes. Till I met you, I was playing at being someone I didn’t even want to be but was too scared to stop and be myself, but having you at my side made me brave enough to face that fear, made it feel like I could and should be myself.” Her thumb rubbed across Luz’s knuckles and Luz squeezed back, smiling encouragingly at her. “Even now,” she whispered so only Luz could hear her, and that bright grin she adored flashed at her. “I know that who I am now is thanks to you in many ways, you always make me want to try harder, to be better. It hasn’t always been easy, life has thrown a lot at us over the years, but with you, I know that I can make it through. No matter how hard it gets, I’ll never stop trying, because I can’t think of anything that could ever be more worth the effort than being with you for the rest of my life,” she finished, slipping the paper back into her pocket and taking up Luz’s other hand again. She can hear her sister and Willow sniffling behind her, while Viney did her best to hold it in. Gus is already crying and making whimpering noises while Edric bit his lip, doing his best to keep it together. King is biting his tongue to hold back his cries.

In the front row, Camila is quietly sniffling into a tissue and Eda crosses her arms, definitely blinking her eyes against the tears trying to well up in her mismatched eyes while Alador is filled with a deep appreciation for his future daughter-in-law, even as a bitter sorrow wells up in his chest because he knows just why Amity was afraid of being herself.

Luz knows that there are tears sliding down her cheeks, but she can’t stop it. It should be illegal for Amity to look at her like that and say those things that make her face flush and feel like a hot pile of goo, even as they simultaneously cradle her heart in a blanket of warmth.

Lilith is doing about the same as the rest of the wedding party it seems, and clears her throat, pulling herself together before turning to Luz.

“Luz, you may now say your vows,” she said.

“Don’t mess this up, Kid,” Eda murmured quietly to herself and Camila can only nod in agreement. Gus and Edric hoping for the same thing, especially after Amity’s had been so perfect.

Luz squeezed both of Amity’s hands and cleared her throat, willing away the lump lodged there.

"I'll be honest with you, with everything that’s been going on, I totally, completely forgot to write my vows," she admits sheepishly, and there's a murmur from the guests, but Amity only rolled her eyes, smirking, which makes Luz relax at the response, and behind her, Viney hissed a quiet 'Ha' to Emira, but she can examine that later. "But I don't need to, I can think of reasons why I love you in my sleep." She grinned right back at Amity, whose hands squeezed hers as she smiled down at her softly and Luz’s stomach bubbled up with so much love and affection that it made her tingle all over. "I never could have imagined when I stumbled through a portal chasing an owl that stole my book that I would end up standing here, with you, but I’m beyond glad that Owlbert is a tiny trash thief, and I did.” she grinned. Eda chuckled to herself. “Amity, I've never known anyone as incredibly kind and amazing as you, and I consider myself to be the luckiest person on The Boiling Isles for getting to have met you, and now because I get to spend the rest of my life with you. Without you watching my back for the last six years I probably would have drowned or set myself on fire by now.” She admitted, and there's an agreeing chuckle from the guests and their friends standing next to them. Amity just grinned wetly and knowingly at her, there have been a few incidents over the years that even their closest friends aren't privy to, disaster averted only because Amity is always at her side.

“But I know I can always count on you to be there for me, and I promise that no matter what, I’ll always be there for you too, because there is no one, in any realm that I could ever love more than you, Amity, and I want to spend every minute from here till the end; proving it to you.” Her voice is low by the end and even if Amity hadn’t been teary before, she was now and she’s going to ruin her makeup if she can’t pull herself together! The wedding party isn’t doing much better, barely holding it together themselves. Gus is looking at them starry-eyed, lip trembling and Edric is right there with him. Willow is sniffled quietly into her flowers while Emira rapidly blinked away her tears, Viney much the same.

Eda held Camila as she wept into her shoulder, biting her lips to hold back her own flood of tears.

Alador clenched his hands into the fabric of his dress pants, jaw tight.

“The rings?” Lilith’s voice is thick, but level, with herculean effort, as she looked down at King, who is sniffling and whimpering, on the verge of sobs as he steps forward and holds up the pillow with their rings sitting on it. Luz and Amity picked up the other’s ring.

Lilith held up a glyph and a glowing blue ring appeared and they broke contact just long enough for Luz to slip Amity’s ring on her finger and for Amity to do the same before they reached through the ring and clasped hands again, fingers laced together,

“Do you, Amity Blight, swear on an eternal oath to love, protect and be ever devoted to Luz Noceda for as long as you both live?

“I swear,” Amity said, voice quivering as she squeezed Luz’s fingers laced between hers.

“Do you, Luz Noceda, swear on an eternal oath to love, protect and be ever devoted to Amity Blight for as long as you both live.

“I swear.” Luz smiled even as her eyes shined with still falling tears.

“The oath is sealed,” Their hands glowed before the ring faded away. “you may now…”

They didn’t need to wait for Lilith to tell them.

Amity flung her arms around Luz’s neck as Luz grabbed her around the waist sealing the oath with a kiss as the guests erupted into loud, raucous cheers and laughter. It’s a much longer kiss than it needs to be, but no one is going to stop them.

They finally pulled back, grinning stupidly at each other before Luz pulled back just enough to bend down and sweep an arm beneath Amity’s knees.

She squealed as Luz scooped her up into her arms and took off running down the aisle to whoops and cheers as they passed.

“Luz!” Amity laughed, clinging to her neck as she ran into the woods, both of their laughter echoing off the trees as the blue glow of the moon lit their way.

“To the party!” Eda declared with a grin over the crowd, standing and pointing in the direction of Hexside.

The wedding party cheered as they took off running after the newlyweds, followed by the guests.

The courtyard of the school was filled with tables of people walking about and chatting as the wedding party all walked toward the school to take photos.

Luz couldn’t stop grinning, nor Amity, as they stood inside, waiting for their friends to catch up after Luz had finally set her back on her feet, still clutching each other tightly, foreheads pressed together. They couldn’t wipe away their bright grins even if they wanted to.

Amity’s eyes roved over her face as she wiped at any remaining tears on Luz’s cheeks.

“Eres tan hermosa,” Amity mumbled making Luz’s face darken even as she grinned.

“I should be saying that to you!” Luz pulled back till they were linked only by their hands and openly stared at her wife in awe. “You look… I don’t know any words in any language to do you justice, mi amor.” Luz smiled, squeezing her hands.

Amity squeezed back before pulling her back in close and captured her lips in another kiss.

"Titan, I love you so much," she mumbled against her lips, a few tears had managed to slip past against her will.

"Just as much as I love you," Luz smiled at her reaching up to wipe them away before they can do much damage to Amity's makeup. Her chest feels fit to burst with the rampant affection she feels, especially as Amity leaned into the touch on her cheek

As she stared back at Luz, she's struck hard by the sudden urge to just take her by the hand and drag her away, somewhere they can just be alone, screw the after-party. Willow would kill her, not to mention the rest of their friends and both of Luz's mothers’. Her siblings and Viney would just be amused as all get out.

"Do you think people would notice if we left?" she asked anyway, looking down at her.

Luz blinked at her, eyes blown wide and mouth hanging open before she couldn't help but burst into laughter.

"Yes, Amity, I think it's safe to say they would definitely notice." The tone isn't even playing at scolding and Luz is smiling at her, eyes dancing with unspoken mirth and warm, overwhelming affection. That only makes the urge to take her and run that much stronger.

"We could still go…"

Luz is grinning so widely at her it almost looks like it hurts. She just cupped Amity's cheeks in her hands and pressed another long kiss to her mouth. Amity lets her eyes droop closed, and clings to Luz.

Her wife.

She hummed against Luz, threading her fingers gently through her hair. She smells wonderful, not her normal warm, woodsy smell, but some kind of perfume.

Luz finally released her but is still grinning, thumbs running gently over her cheeks.

"We can't leave, Amor," she said and Amity huffed quietly, making her chuckle. "Soon enough, it'll just be you and me," she promised, and Amity hummed in agreement, kissing her again.

"What, are you making out in here already?" Edric's laughing voice broke them out of their own world as their friends finally arrived.

“Not yet.” Luz grinned cheekily at him and Amity slapped her shoulder. Nothing was going to ruin her mood tonight, absolutely nothing!

The rest of the wedding party piled into the building along with the photographer. A tall, bug-eyed demon with long curving horns and a large camera stood in front of them.

“Say, ‘scream’!”

They crowded together and took photos. Eda, Camila, and Lilith joining them for several, including a few shots of Luz with each of her moms and both of them together, before dragging Lilith and King into the photo with her and Amity, the whole Owl House one last time. Minus Hooty, who was bitterly disappointed that he couldn’t come, but hey; house.

Luz glanced around as Amity took photos with the bridesmaids and her siblings and noticed someone missing from the photo party. She grabbed Gus and whispered in his ear. He grinned at her and nodded before quietly shooting out of the building as the photos carried on. He entered again a few minutes later with a bright grin and another witch.

“I think that’s all the photos…” Amity looked at them and let the rest of the wedding party finally move back out into the courtyard to wait for them.

“Not yet!” Luz piped up as she moved toward her, Alador, trailing behind her. “We gotta get a couple with you and your dad!” She grinned at her and Amity blinked, surprised. Alador himself didn’t look so sure but she smiled and nodded.

“Of course we do.”

Her father seemed to perk and Luz stepped out of the way to allow the older auburn-haired witch to stand at her wife’s side.

Luz cocked her head as she watched the two smile. It was the first time she’d ever seen the two together since they were teenagers when Amity still had mint green hair, now as they stood side by side, both with that shiny, red/brown, auburn hair and the same bright, golden eyes and tall stature, Luz couldn’t help but smile. It was obvious where Amity got all her genes from; thank goodness it wasn’t Odalia.

The photographer snapped a few photos before Amity turned to look at her.

“Get over here,” she called and Luz blinked, pointing to herself. “Yes, you,” Amity laughed to herself as Luz trotted over and Amity wrapped an arm around her waist and Alador laid a hand on both of their shoulders. She could feel the soft squeezing of his hand, it wasn’t threatening, or a warning, but thankful, and Luz grinned all the brighter as the photos were snapped. Alador smiled at them and moved away, walking out the doors with the photographer and leaving them alone.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you…,” Amity can’t help but mumble once they’re alone, looking at her from beneath her dark lashes.

“Probably worry a lot less.” Luz shrugged, making her chuckle.

“Maybe,” she agreed. “Things would certainly be duller though,” she smirked and Luz grinned right back. “I saw your free falling stunt today, Eda sent a video.”

“That traitor!” Luz hissed, making Amity snort. “I was completely in control, I swear!”

“Hey, hey, relax, I know. I know that you can take care of yourself,” she assured gently and Luz relaxed. “I’m still going to worry about you though, that’s my job.”

“Worrying about each other is both our jobs,” she refuted, and then they heard Gus on the mic outside.

“Ladies, gentlemen, demons, and others, thank you for coming tonight!” Cheers and applause answered him.

“Oh, that’s our cue! Are you ready, mi amor?” Luz smiled, holding out her arm, which Amity looped her own through, smiling back.

“Always.”

“Please welcome, for the first time, Mrs. and Mrs. Luz and Amity Noceda!” Gus called and they walked out of the school’s double doors to the whoops and cheers of their friends and family. They smiled and waved as they walked down the stairs to take their seats next to their friends at the head table as dinner was served.

Dinner was just as dinner at the owl house, loud, cheery, and fun. Even at the more serious tables, like where the coven heads were seated, were still far from quiet. Though there were fewer fights over, or with food then there usually was at the owl house, mostly because Camila sat between the two Clawthorne sisters at the table near theirs.

Edric was eyeing the beautiful, three-tiered cake with the smooth white icing and purple and pink accents with drool dripping down the corner of his mouth while Emira reluctantly paid a smirking Viney.

“I can’t believe you didn’t write any vows and your wife wrote a book!” Emira scowled at Luz.

“It’s been really busy! I forgot!” Luz defended, gesturing with her fork. Amity giggled and laid a hand over Luz’s on the table.

“It’s alright, Luz, I thought they were perfect.” She smiled at her and Luz grinned before her face turned thoughtful.

“Knowing you, you must have actually written a book too…,” she hummed and Amity flushed.

Willow grinned and twirled a finger and a stack of bound papers fell from the spell circle, which she handed to Luz, despite Amity’s protests.

“No, give me that!” she grabbed for it but Luz held it just beyond her reach as she flipped through it.

“Ay dios mio! You weren’t kidding… now I feel bad!” she turned, frowning, to Amity, who took the opportunity to pluck the pages from Luz’s hand.

“Don’t, I didn’t use them anyway, querida.” She spelled the pages away.

“But you spent all that time writing them…” Luz’s brows furrowed.

“It’s fine, Luz,” Amity assured her but Luz wasn’t having it.

“I’m going to write something just as good for you later,” she promised and Amity can’t help but smile at her.

“Alright.” she nodded, she knows that once luz has made up her mind it takes a miracle to change it.

When dinner is all but done Gus has taken up the mic again.

“Will the happy couple please come to the dance floor for their first dance?”

Luz perks up at that and stands, offering her hand to Amity.

“Shall we, Mrs. Noceda?” She smiled at her and Amity slipped her hand in hers.

“Please, Mrs. Noceda.” She smiled back and let Luz lead her onto the dance floor. Their friends can only roll their eyes at the two, even as they smile.

The Moon is hovering directly overhead now and everything glows with its sapphire light as they stand hand in hand in the middle of the floor. The song that begins to play is one they have danced to many times, but the first time was under very similar circumstances in Blight manor under the same blue light.

Everyone’s eyes are on them, but they only have eyes for each other, as has always been the case.

The move in slow, graceful steps. Fighting or dancing the two have always been in perfect sync and they don’t even need to think about their movements, they don’t need to speak either, they simply enjoy this quiet moment, even if they are in the spotlight.

When the lilting slow song finally ends, much too soon for either, Luz grins at her. They still have something planned that only Gus and the DJ are aware of.

“Are you ready?” Luz is vibrating with energy.

“We haven’t been practicing this for three months for me not to be ready.” Amity grinned back as Luz stepped back and pulled off her jacket, tossing it to Gus who looks much too excited. Amity spun a finger and her dress glowed as the hem shrank up to her knees, freeing her legs.

“What are they doing?” Lilith cocked her head.

“Dunno, but knowing them, it’s gonna be good, whatever it is,” Eda smirked.

Sitting in Luz’s breast pocket is a bright red flower, she pulled it out and clenched the stem between her teeth before she wrapped an arm around Amity’s waist and held one of her hands in hers, arms stretched straight out as Amity set her other on Luz’s shoulder even as she’s laughing quietly to herself at Luz.

“You’re ridiculous,” she mumbled, grinning. Luz just wagged her eyebrows in response, making Amity giggle all the harder. She’s too happy to care one bit about Luz’s added ‘personal touch’ to what they’re about to do.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on, what’s with the flower?” Emira looked at Willow who shook her head, just as confused as the rest of them.

“Amity didn’t say anything to me, looks like Gus is in on it though.”

The two are standing, pressed so closely together that no light can be seen between them.

Luz glanced at Gus and nodded. The nineteen-year-old signaled the DJ and then music again filled the night air.

The assembled witches looked around at the brand new sounds.

Camila blinked at the familiar music that is starting to grow louder and faster

“Tango?” she questioned too herself.

Then the two take off to the quick rhythm of the accordion and drums, spinning across the dance floor in sharp, controlled measure, hardly ever far from the other and taking such fast steps around the other that it’s amazing they don’t trip on each other.

Luz twirled them around, both grinning as they follow the whine of a violin across the dancefloor, the fast clicking of their shoes on the hardwood adding an extra beat to the music.

Gripping her hand, Luz flung amity away in a tight spin, making her dress billow up around her knees as their laced fingers pulled her to a stop, arms outstretched. Whistles and shouts erupted from the guests and Luz tugged her back into her arms. Their hands adjust and then Amity is the one leading them across the floor in tight spins and quicker steps.

“Wow…,” Viney mumbled as she watched the two. Especially when they flip around again and Luz takes back the lead, jerking them to a sudden stop, Amity’s knee wrapped around her hip, and Luz’s hand pressed to the small of her back, they can feel each other breathe they’re so close.

“This feels wrong to watch…” Edric covered his face with a hand but is peeking between his fingers. There is certainly a charged feeling in the air between the two as Luz spun them around, still attached at the hips.

“But they’re so good…,” Willow said in awe, hands pressed to her face.

“Holy shit…” Eda is watching the dance, slack-jawed, Lilith can only nod, eyes wide.

The song builds to a crescendo in a pounding of drums and the rapid squeal of the violin as they finally separated in another spin before Luz pulled her back in, twisting around the moment Amity is back in her arms and dropped her in a sharp dip to the songs final beats.

It’s quiet as they looked at each other, breathing heavy and smiling so hard it hurt. Luz’s smile turned to a grin and she wagged her eyebrows at her again, teeth clenched around the rose she had made a special trip to the human realm for, Amity giggled as they stood up straight and the guest all cheered and clapped at the display.

Luz pulled the flower from her mouth and they both gave dramatic bows.

Regular music starts to play again and other couples move onto the floor.

“What. Was. That?” Emira asked the moment they returned to the table.

“It’s called Tango,” Luz laughed. “It’s a type of dance from the human world, we’ve been practicing,” she said proudly.

“That was amazing, you two,” Willow praised.

“A little risque…,” Edric laughed.

“Well, it is colloquially known in the human world sometimes as ‘sex on hardwood’.” Camila and the Clawthorne sisters chose that moment to approach the head table. Amity flushed at that, Luz had not told her that, and the sheepish grin she’s wearing told her that she had absolutely known it too.

“Can see why,” Viney snorted.

“Either way, that was pretty fancy,” Eda smirked at them.

“It was remarkable,” Lilith added.

“Thank you.” Amity nods, smiling.

They let several more songs play while they rest before they decided to finally cut the cake at Edric’s pleading.

As they do, Amity suddenly remembered a conversation she had with Camila about human wedding traditions.

“Your mother told me about another human wedding tradition last week involving the cake,” she started, cake in hand, and watched Luz from the corner of her eye as she hummed happily to herself.

“Oh, yea, which one?” she turned to look at her and Amity smashed a handful of cake in her face as she did.

It’s quiet for a moment, one visible brown eye blinked at her, face smeared with cake before a grin broke out across her face, and she shoved her fist into her own cake.

“That’s how you want it, huh, mi amor?”

Amity squealed as icing is smeared across her face in return to the sound of Luz’s laughing and then she’s laughing too.

“Food fight!” Eda jumped up, plate in hand.

“Yeah!” King jumped up as well but Camila and Lilith grabbed them both.

“NO, just them!” Camila shouted.

“Well, that’s no fun,” Eda grumbled, pouting.

Amity laughed as she watched Luz’s tongue dart out of her mouth to lick the frosting off her lip.

“Tasty” she grinned.

They let the caterers pass out the cake while they go and clean their faces off inside. They’re gone a little longer than they should be and Viney and Edric take bets on if they even come back at all or are just making out

“Oh, you know what I found out tonight?” Luz asked Amity as she wiped the frosting off her face in Hexside’s bathroom.

“Hmm?” she hummed and leaned in close to the mirror and trying to save as much of her makeup as she can while wiping the cake away.

“Your dad and Lilith used to date,” she said it so casually.

‘What!?” Amity whipped to her.

“Yeah! Crazy right? Guess they were together in school but after she joined the coven she felt so guilty about mom she spent all her time looking for a cure and they drifted apart.”

Amity has no idea how to process this information. She vaguely wonders what life would have been like if Lilith had been her mother.

“You okay, amor?”

She blinks and Luz is looking at her, brows creased with worry. There will be none of that, not tonight.

“Fine, it’s just such a bizarre thought.” She shrugged.

“Right?” Luz laughed.

Something for her to think about another time.

When they come back out, icing free they finally get to eat some of the cake.

“Lilith did an awesome job on this cake,” Luz mumbled around a mouthful of it. Amity just nodded an agreement, glad that Luz had always liked thornberry desserts as much as she did. “Hopefully it’ll taste half this good next year…,” Luz hummed and Amity blinked at her.

“Next year?” she questioned and Luz nodded.

“It’s a human wedding tradition,” she explained. “You save a piece of your cake and freeze it so you can have it on your first anniversary.”

“Then we need to do it now, my brother hasn’t walked away from the cake since we cut it.” Amity rolled her eyes and pointed her fork at Edric, who had stationed himself cake side for the last fifteen minutes.

“Uhh, yeah, probably, he called dibs on leftovers yesterday, so if we wait he’s gonna cart the whole thing outta here at the end of the night,” she snorted and Amity sighed, shaking her head. Her brothers only real loves; trouble and baked goods.

“I’ll get him,” Emira said, rolling her eyes as she made a beeline for the cake and her gluttonous twin. Viney laughed at them.

“Are you sure you’re ready for that package deal?” Luz turned to the older witch who grinned at them and shrugged.

“He’s not bad.... and he’s definitely not going to be living with us…,” Viney deadpanned.

“You don’t think he’s going to end up at our house do you?” Luz looked at her and Amity stopped, fork halfway to her mouth.

“Absolutely not,” she said with finality. “I love my brother but no. He and dad will keep each other company in Blight manor.” Luz and Viney laughed at that.

“Hey, guys, it’s time for you to throw the bouquet,” Willow reminded.

“Oh, right,” Amity nodded and they stood from the table and quickly made their way to the empty dancefloor.

“Single Witches gather round!” Luz called. She and Amity grinned as a slew of their female guests tripped all over themselves as they hurried onto the dance floor. Luz caught sight of a certain witch standing in the back at the edge of the dancefloor and grinned wickedly before she leaned up to whisper in Amity’s ear. She snorted as gold eyes fell on the witch in question.

“Alright.” she nodded, still grinning.

Lilith watched the couple and their guests gather on the dancefloor, arms crossed over her chest. Perhaps it appeared as though she was being standoffish, standing alone in at the back of the festivities but if she had didn’t she and Eda would be brawling in the middle of the party, and as annoying as her sister could sometimes be, and deserving of a piece of cake to the face, she was not going to make a scene at Luz and Amity’s wedding. Camila seemed to have Edalyn in hand right now as the two sat at their table drinking hard appleblood and laughing.

She shook her head, smirking to herself at all the young women and a few men who had swarmed the floor as the two got ready to throw the bouquet.

“Good evening, Lilith.”

Lilith jerked, turning her head to find Alador Blight at her side.

“It’s been a while, Alador,” she greeted with a tilt of her head. He nodded, arms folded behind his back as his gaze turned to the couple.

“It was a beautiful ceremony,” he said, watching them. She nodded, humming an affirmative.

“I’m sure they’ll continue to be quite happy together, despite your wife’s attempts at the contrary.” She can’t help the little dig, she said that she wouldn’t speak ill of Odalia, that didn’t mean she was going to pretend to like her either, but Alador just hummed.

“Precisely why she is my ex-wife now,” he admitted, which makes Lilith look at him.

“Oh…” she’s not sure what to say to that. Alador nods as they observed the gaggle of witches gathered around the middle of the dancefloor.

“It’s just as well,” he continued unexpectedly. “I would hardly have called our marriage a happy one, even from the start.”

“I’m sorry,” is all the elder Clawthorne can think to say.

“No need, It was my own fault for choosing to turn a blind eye to her machinations from the start.” He ran a hand through his beard thoughtfully.

“You never struck me as the type ignore inconvenient truths, Alador.” she cocked a brow at him.

“I wasn’t, once. But I suppose after our… acquaintance, it was easier to ignore some… ‘inconvenient truths’ as you called them.”

Lilith stiffened at that, she never expected him to bring that up, not after over twenty-five years, nor the subtle implication about her being the cause of his relationship with Odalia.

Before she can even think of something to say in response the couple drew both of their eyes again.

“Here we go!” Luz grinned as she and Amity both held the bouquet in one hand and tossed it over their shoulders. The witches on the dance floor scrambled all over each other as it flew through the air, shooting way over their heads and across the dancefloor.

Lilith can barely raise her arms in time to catch the flowers as they fell into her hands.

She blinked down at them as the crowd whistled and clapped. Across the room, she can hear Edalyn laughing maniacally.

She looked up to find Luz and Amity grinning at her from across the room. She scowled when Luz had the audacity to wink at her.

‘Little shits’

Low chuckling at her side made her turn to Alador, who is laughing quietly.

“Well, I suppose that means you will be the one swearing an eternal oath next.” He smirked at her.

“That worked out better than I thought.” Luz laughed, watching Lilith scowl at them. Amity just shook her head and smiled exasperatedly at her wife.

A few hours later the party is winding down and they decide it’s the perfect time to make their getaway.

“Amity and I are gonna sneak out of here,” Luz told her mom’s. “Can you take Mami home later?” she turned to Eda who nodded.

“No worries, kid. I’ll make sure Cami gets home safe and sound, scouts honor.”

“Yeah… there’s no way you were ever any kind of scout,” she drawled and Amity crossed her arms, smirking.

“Do you want me to get her home or not?” Eda huffed, reaching out and ruffling her hair. Luz grumbled but let it happen. “I’ll see you two in a week.” The older women hugged them both before they pull away. “Try not to break any beds.” She smirked as the two walked away, and Luz groaned to herself. Camila just gave the witch a tired look.

They say quick goodbyes to their friends who hug them tightly and they promise to get together when they get back from their honeymoon.

Amity made a quick goodbye to her father and then they’re sneaking away from the party into the woods and Amity spelled her staff into existence and they are soon flying over the woods, the bright cobalt light from the moon lighting the way.

“Well, we’re not leaving for the coast until tomorrow morning, so now what, Mrs. Noceda?” Luz grinned as she set her chin on Amity’s shoulder.

“I could think of a few things.” Amity glanced at her over her shoulder knowingly, gold eyes glowing in the moonlight

“Well, take me home then!” Luz said and laughed as they picked up speed, wind whipping through their hair, as they flew through the moonlit night.

#Lumity #Moonlit masquerade #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Eda Clawthorne #Lilith Clawthorne #Alador Blight #Camila Noceda #Edric Blight #Emira Blight #Viney #Gus Porter #Willow park #gay #fanfic #fic #the owl house #toh #That's all she wrote folks

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majoraop · 3 years

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The Cold Doesn't Bother Me Anymore

Monet had been a secretary, a spy, and more. Everything she had done had been for the Young Master, to repay him for saving her and her sister. However, even a busy woman like her needed some time for herself after yet another day of hard work. Monet tasted her matcha milk shaved ice while observing the world from above. She sighed, content. The bittersweet dessert had a relaxing effect on her, and her mind started recalling the events that led her here… --- When offered the opportunity to eat a Devil’s Fruit, Monet had not hesitated. Then, sometime later, she had infiltrated the Dressrosa Royal Palace so the Young Master could reclaim the throne that had once belonged to his family. It had been easy for her to keep a low profile, hiding her true intentions behind her thick glasses. However, she had soon discovered a feral side to her character. It was then that she had also understood why she had picked that specific Devil Fruit: the Yuki Yuki no Mi. She had wanted it not only to be able to turn into snow and never suffer the cold anymore, but also to be a powerful fighter like most people who had eaten a Logia—the strongest kind of Devil Fruit. After that, new possibilities had opened for her. And when an old member of the Donquixote Family had come back, Monet had asked him to use his powers to modify her body and attach harpy wings and talons to it. Finally, Monet had felt she deserved her role as a Donquixote Family pirate officer. --- Monet sipped the remaining melted ice and then flew back to Punk Hazard: she had an important job there, and intended not to make mistakes. However, despite all her efforts, things took a turn for the worse not long after his return. Nevertheless, Monet could still do something for the Young Master… The harpy woman closed her eyes to collect her remaining strength and resolve, inspired deeply, and then raised of her wings to push the button: after pressing it, the chemical plant on Punk Hazard would blow up and the traitor to their family—the same person who had given her her bird features—would be stopped. Feeling a newfound sense of purpose, Monet moved her feathered hand over the auto-destruct button. It was snowing, and she recalled a time when she could still feel the cold touch of the snow. --- Monet had fought to protect her sister, but she had been weak and they had fallen prey to people who had wanted to enslave them. Before long, they had found themselves locked in a cage. Monet’s hands had been so cold she couldn’t feel her fingers. Still, she had managed to encircle Sugar in a trembling embrace, shielding her from their kidnappers' smirks. Then, the Young Master had appeared: a tall angel with pink wings who had saved her and her sister from a terrible fate. --- Now, it’s my turn to protect you. Monet smiled, happy to sacrifice herself for the sake of her family.

My Monet fanfic for the @womenwantedzine. This story is accompanied by Marti’s amazing artwork in the fanzine, and among other things she also illustrated the matcha ice-cream recipe I wrote for the One Peace self-care mini zine (recipe “presented” by this same character)! ^^

#onepiece #one piece #opfanfic #opfanfiction #monet #punk hazard #donquixotefamily #donquixote family #donquixote pirates #majoraop #queued

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beauregardlionett · 3 years

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all the stars your eyes could hold

AO3 Link

The circumstances under which the Mighty Nein found themselves invited to yet another party in Nicodranas were unclear. Beau was fairly certain it involved someone wanting Marion to perform, but had placed it under the guise of requesting the Nein’s attendance.

Ever since they assisted in the tentative peace treaty between the Empire and the Dynasty, word had been getting around about them. It was mildly unsettling for someone like Beau, who meant to operate in shadow. Thankfully, her more exuberant and colorful party members tended to garner the spotlight.

Leaning against an obnoxiously ostentatious marble column, nursing a drink far too fruity for her taste, Beau scanned the crowd. Caduceus had offered to gift her with True Sight again, but Beau had turned him down. While she appreciated the gesture, she wanted to be present this time.

Nobles in all states of fancy dress swept across the dance floor before her. Women with billowing skirts as they twirled through the ballroom, offering tittering laughter behind fans or hands adorned in silk gloves. Men with ornate suit coats sporting flushed cheeks as they drank away their decorum. Individuals dressed in pristine costume somewhere between a full skirt and fitted breeches flit between the food and drink and the dance floor. It was the sort of contained, upright chaos that Beau grew up around in Kamordah. It was a breed of debauchery that masqueraded as a proper party only nobles could attend and achieve.

With a heavy sigh, Beau took a long drag of her overly sweet drink and prayed the night would end soon.

As much as she loved wearing her slate grey suit, catching many approving, hungry stares from the women here, Beau was tired. Parties like these were far too pompous for her, pointless entertainment for nobles who had nothing better to do with their time.

She was considering slipping out to the garden for some quiet when a soft voice spoke up behind her.

“Beau?”

Twisting to peer over her shoulder, Beau worked hard to maintain her hold on her drink.

Yasha strode toward her, all but glowing in the sensual party lighting.

Jester insisted on splurging for a new dress for Yasha the day before. Something about wanting to amend the height of the slit because she knew Yasha was a little uncomfortable with it. Whatever the real reason was, Beau had no arguments because Yasha’s new dress was stunning. Made of a similar dark velvet as the previous one, this new garment draped over Yasha’s physique enticingly.

The dress was one-shouldered, a long cape of soft fabric cascading down Yasha’s back from the sleeveless strap. Her neckline was trimmed with silver flower embroidery, and a simple off-white belt cinched the length of the skirt into an empire waist. Veth had gently bullied the Aasimar into letting the Halfling style Yasha’s hair. So her now almost entirely white hair was pinned to drape down one side, the braids re-done and ancient tangles brushed smooth.

Simple, elegant, and extremely attractive.

Beau reminded herself to thank Jester for remembering to put the cape on the arm Yasha didn’t have a tattoo on. The jade ink was shimmering in the party’s dim lighting, and Beau had to make sure she wasn’t drooling.

“Hey,” Beau finally remembered to answer, eloquent as always.

Yasha’s lips twitched as she chuckled, coming to stand beside Beau. The monk watched as Yasha’s eyes swept over the crowd, a bit of unease flickering across the woman’s expression.

“You okay, Yasha?” Beau murmured, shifting closer to where their shoulders brushed.

“Yeah,” the Aasimar said, aiming a smile Beau’s way that did anything but convince her that Yasha was okay. “I just don’t really know what to do at parties. And people keep staring at me.”

Beau could hardly blame them. But it seemed to be a reoccurring theme with Yasha that wherever she went, both the best and the worst seemed to be drawn toward the Aasimar’s aura. Beau often failed at reigning in her jealousy born of protective instinct.

“Well then,” Beau pushed off the pillar, downed her drink against the burn of alcohol in her throat, and beamed at Yasha. “Shall we wander, then?”

Yasha blinked at Beau, giving the human a slow, shy smile and a nod, a quiet, “sure.”

Making their way around the perimeter of the ballroom, Beau caught sight of Jester swirling Fjord around the floor. The little Tiefling was grinning ear to ear and Beau could see her giggling giddily as her pink chiffon swirled around her and Fjord’s legs. The half-Orc was smiling with fond amusement down at whatever Jester was saying, looking rather smitten. Their second lap around the ballroom, deep in discussion about what the Elf wearing a bright green ball gown might do for a living, Beau scanned again. This time she spotted Veth and Caleb sitting at a table with Caduceus, the Halfling talking with rapid intent and animated hand-gestures. Caleb seemed fixated on whatever she was talking about, nodding every few seconds. Caduceus, smiling indulgently, caught Beau’s eye after a second. The Firbolg raised a brow her way and made a slight shooing gesture.

Waving Caduceus off, Beau continued her conversation with Yasha. But she did subtly steer them towards the exit, remembering the small side garden she had spotted on the way in. Part of her hoped it would offer some quiet, the other part hoped to see that adorable grin Yasha got on her face whenever she saw flowers.

Sure enough, the second they stepped out of the side hall and into the moonlit garden, Yasha’s lips curled into a wider smile. Beau trailed off from her description of a very crude occupation the Elf back in the ballroom could have to watch Yasha smile. The Aasimar’s profile all but glowed in the silver night, Beau transfixed with the way Yasha’s smile pushed her cheeks to round and scrunched her nose just a little. Her eyes crinkled at the corners just so, and Beau studied the temporary crow’s feet that nestled there.

Yasha looked her way and Beau blinked back at her, smiling in return on instinct.

“It’s gorgeous out here, Beau. How did you know this was here?”

“I just...saw it on the way in. Figured you might like it better than inside.”

“It’s very beautiful,” Yasha agreed, sweeping a look over the flowers as she walked through the neatly planted flora. Beau followed, drawn toward her like a moon caught in orbit with no choice but to gravitate.

As they strolled through the garden together, Beau’s hands shoved in her pockets, she tipped her head back to stare at the stars and the low-hanging moon. Maybe it was the nearby ocean, but she swore the night sky always shone brighter in Nicodranas. Yasha’s hair caught Beau’s attention out of the corner of her eye, all but glowing in the silver moonlight.

Everything about the Aasimar beside her beckoned like a lure, and Beau wondered not for the first time how she could have ever lived without Yasha. It was one of those moments where she found herself hard pressed to remember a time before Yasha, before the Nein. There was always an unfortunate set of memories that never failed to surface, but the more mundane memories were harder to access. Everything she did with the Nein felt like they had always been together, had always understood her. Beau knew it wasn’t the truth, but she didn’t care.

They were with her now, that was what mattered.

Time, Beau thought, was such a fickle and inconsistent mistress. She always lingered, but she didn’t serve everyone kindly or evenly.

Some got less - like Mollymauk. Some got more - like Caduceus brought back from death. And some like Lucien got multiple chances, while others like Yasha couldn’t even recall what Time had already given them.

Beau, uncertain where she fell on that sliding scale, knew one thing for sure.

“Yasha,” Beau said in a voice that sounded steadier than she felt. Back near the building where they started, Beau spotted an alcove with a small pristine marble fountain tucked into it. The Aasimar looked over at Beau curiously as the monk grabbed Yasha’s elbow and huddled them into the corner.

Yasha looked surprised as Beau put her own back against the wall and drew Yasha in closer. Even in the half light from the moon, Beau saw the blush on Yasha’s cheeks turning darker, her sturdy hands finding purchase on Beau’s hips.

“I’ll be honest,” Beau sighed, emboldened by the simple action. “This isn’t quite how I pictured doing this. I had, like, this whole thing planned with the tower, but I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

Yasha’s eyes seemed entirely transfixed on Beau’s lips, as if watching the monk craft every syllable she spoke.

“I read your letter,” Beau confessed in a rush. “I actually read it like...weeks ago. And at first I uh...I didn’t know what to do. I had told myself that I wouldn’t make a move, that the ball was in your court because of all the shit you’ve gone through. But then you did make a move, and I haven’t ever really had someone look at me and understand me in the way you do. So I kind of panicked and procrastinated and told myself I’d figure something out. But then all this shit kept happening, and it never felt like the right time to breach the topic, y’know? But then I realized...we’re never promised tomorrow. Especially people like us. So uh...in an effort to spend as much time with you as possible, because I really want to spend a lot of time with you...”

Beau had to pause for a breath, her own cheeks now warm with the emotions swirling messily in her chest.

“I really like you, Yasha,” Beau whispered, feeling short of breath. “In a way that’s kind of terrifying, but that I’m also super into. I like you in a way that makes me nervous, the same feeling I get when we do something fun and dangerous. My heart races and there’s this thrill in my veins. I get stuck in this five-foot world that’s composed of everything and everyone I can see in the moment.”

Biting down on her tongue to stop her rambling and catch her breath, Beau looked up at Yasha. The Aasimar’s fingers curled a little tighter around Beau’s hips, and her lips parted with surprise. Wide eyes and flushed cheeks greeted Beau’s frantic search for emotion, and the monk was acutely aware of her own heart pounding behind her ribs. The moonlight back-lit Yasha, outlining her in silver, and Beau swore for a moment that it crafted a halo above the barbarian’s head.

“Beau,” Yasha whispered. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yeah,” Beau rushed out breathlessly. “Please.”

Yasha ducked her head down so quickly that the press of her lips against Beau’s ended up gently knocking the monk’s head against the wall behind her. Beau didn’t mind at all, too busy smiling against Yasha’s lips and reaching to wrap her arms around the Aasimar’s neck.

It felt like all the air fled from Beau’s lungs for a moment, leaving her breathless and dizzy. The wall at her back and Yasha’s hands on her hips seemed like the only things keeping her upright at the moment. She had wanted to kiss Yasha for a while, but had never put much thought into it beyond that. Beau never imagined what it would feel like to kiss Yasha.

It was like melting and solidifying in the same instance. Beau had never felt more bodily present than she did at that moment, every place Yasha connected with her a physical anchor for her soul. But in the same breath, every fiber of her insides turned to contented mush under the searing, moonlit heat of the Aasimar’s attention.

Their kiss could have lasted seconds or minutes, and Beau wouldn’t have cared either way. Yasha pulled back enough for their noses to brush as they caught their breath.

“Fuck,” Beau managed eventually, sounding strangled with giddy pleasure.

Yasha smirked and offered a quiet, “maybe later, yeah?”

Beau’s brain promptly short-circuited and she stuttered what one might consider an enthusiastic agreement. Yasha took amused mercy on her after a moment and stepped back to let Beau breathe.

“We should uhm...” Yasha started, then stopped, glancing over her shoulder.

“Head back in?” Beau squeaked, recovered enough to speak once more.

“Probably,” Yasha nodded. The Aasimar hesitated, holding out her arm in an awkward, wordless invitation. Beau stared at her for a moment before recognizing the gesture for what it was. Straightening out her jacket with a firm tug and brisk pat down, the monk wound her arm through Yasha’s elbow and shot a giddy grin her way.

Beau decided, as they made their way back into the ballroom, that this was definitely one of the best parties she had ever been to.

#cr #critical role #beauyasha #beauregard lionett #yasha #writing #my writing

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grokebaby · 3 years

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Meredith treaded the streets of the Neutral District. It wasn't her first option for where to hang out, but it was all she knew of hell so far. She didn't have the courage to go explore the other districts yet, and she probably shouldn't anyways, not alone

Sensing passerby demons approaching, she rounded the corner to a house, emerging into a narrow alleyway. She always tried to keep as low a profile as possible, since Mama didn't want her to be wandering off by herself anyway.

There were large boxes stacked up to a fence, presumably for people to climb over. As she was about to hop onto the little structure, she heard footsteps right behind and turned to look nervously. The faces of three foreign demons greeted her with unpleasant expressions. Not a welcome sight for sure. And to them, neither was she

She cowered, making herself look as small and inconsequential as possible. One of the demons chuckled. The other two had disgust written on their faces.

"Look at that. A little stray angeling right in my backyard. You're pretty far from home aren't you? Don't you know it's dangerous down here?" the first one said in a condescending tone. Meredith's tail coiled around her defensively. "I-I'm sorry, I didn't mean to trespass, I didn't know you lived here I swear.. I-I'll.." she muttered, not meeting their eyes. Before she could finish her train of thought one of the other two spoke. "I don't think you get it. You're way, way off course. You're not supposed to be in hell. We don't want angels here. And they don't want you to be here either. So why don't you fly back, you little bug?". Meredith swallowed, gathering the words, when the third demon let out a sprinkle of laughter.

"Oh yeah and with what wings? That's a bareback little creature, that thing ain't flying anywhere. Maybe it was thrown down here as punishment.." they said, face splitting into a threatening grin.

Meredith didn't want to think about what they'd make that mean for her, and she took a step back. Her bristles stood on edge, making her look fluffier, although not more threatening. At least not to demons like this. She assumed they might be punishers, but she didn't want to stick around and find out. She hurriedly hopped onto the second box on the little fence construction, her shaky legs causing the box to shift under her weight.

Before anything else could happen, she heard one of the demons be lifted and thrown up in the air with force, making them yelp and later hit the ground with a thud. She turned to look, noticing a sort of familiar face

Lockjaw huffed threateningly. "Do we have a problem here?" he asked the other two demons, eyes gleaming yellow. One of them retreated to go check on their friend, who was groaning on the ground a small distance away. The third demon, now face to face with the court escort, laughed nervously. "What, you're gonna swoop in and save that little grub? You, the angel impaler? The extra power you're using right now is the one you got by eating that fuckers heart! Who do you think you are?" they barked at him, sending a shiver of terror through Meredith's spine. She'd heard of that incident happening before her birth but hadn't really been confronted with the reality of it like this. Lockjaw growled a low rumble.

"You shut your fff-fricking mouth-" he started, glancing nervously back to Meredith, then at the third demon again. He took a charging stance, as if the small alleyway wasn't already cramped by his sheer presence there. If he were to charge he'd go straight through the next wall.

"I can eat demon hearts too, I have a big appetite. Why don't you try me?" he growled, strongly enough to make himself sound serious but quiet enough that none of the potential neighbors could hear.

The demon glanced at his friends on the side, considered themself and decided it wasn't worth the effort. They slicked back to the other two. The first demon had gotten to their feet again. They said with a voice gruff from pain "This. Is my fucking house. Get out." Meredith didn't need to be told twice, and she ran out, right from under Lockjaws nose and long enough until she couldn't see that alleyway again. She leaned on a concrete wall to pant, mostly out of fear.

Not long after she heard Lockjaws voice again, "Are you alright? Did they hurt you?" as he made his way back to her. "H.. How did you know where I was? Don't you live near the court?" Meredith peeped, glancing at him. Lockjaw averted her gaze awkwardly. "I um. I was just uh. Having a walk around here. Like I often do. I like walkies." he exposited very matter of factly while drawing circles on the ground with his toe. Meredith cocked an eyebrow. "I'm not stupid." despite what she'd been told.. "Were you following me?" she asked, standing up again. Lockjaw stuttered "Maybe? I mean no-I.. Your mom worries about you, okay? She seems so worried all the time but she's so busy so.." he eyed the ground melancholically.

Well, Mama had introduced Lockjaw as her friend so it wasn't totally out of the ordinary. She sighed. "Thanks for helping me back there.. I should just go back to the nest.." she started walking back towards the courtroom. Lockjaw hurried to her side after a moment of watching her go. "Yes, or well- hey, we could play! You're with me so it'll be fine. You could ride on my back if you want" he tried offering in a cheery tone. Although uncertainty picked at him. Meredith wondered if mama was too busy to look after her right now, or if he was just socially awkward. Either way she stopped. "Alright. Let's play, that could be fun.."

#Eldritch angel #My writings #Original stories #During summary #My ocs #Demon oc #Writblr #Yay for them! Meredith deserves more spotlight #And we get to see Lockjaw too

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pau-neko-chan · 4 years

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Small details that make me ship karumana

Various fans have already contributed supplementary materials as fuel for the karumana ship but I’m here to talk about more minute details of their individual characters that make me believe in a supportive and refreshing relationship that can develop between these two. I plan to discuss details ranging from the start-up ship fuel from the main series to the supplementary material hints in order to provide a more psychological perspective in their compatibility.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma expresses interest in Okuda when the boys in class asked him who he likes.

The foundations of this ship

Many may claim that their interactions in the series aren’t enough to support a ship but if you look into supplementary material and analyze their individual characters beyond the obvious spotlight ship in the series, you can see how much Matsui Yusei teases fans with karumana ship fuel. According to Okuda’s character profile, she’s someone that the ever-alert Karma has allowed to get close. While in Karma’s character profile, Okuda is said to be the girl he can talk to about anything and his cautious heart and distant nature faded away around her. They’re cited to be the most easy-going boy-girl relationship in the class. In a translated character relationship chart from the official fanbook, Matsui confirms that these two like each other for how comfortable they are with each other, Karma finds her to be the easiest person of the opposite sex to talk to, Okuda feels relaxed around Karma in general, and Karma thinks Okuda is cute.

With these foundational details in mind and by reading beyond what the series gives us, here are a few points that make me believe in Karma and Okuda’s chemistry.

Okuda is not spineless

While she appears to be helpless and shy, she can stand her ground on what she believes in. Much like others in 3-E, she is her own character and doesn’t exist to be that token straight ship for Karma. During the class civil war, she chose the “save” team because she believes that if science can destroy, it can also save.

Anime: S2 Ep 17; Manga: Ch 144 - Okuda chooses the Blue team to save Koro-sensei

They could have easily put her in Karma’s team because of friendship and loyalty but the choice to “kill” would simply be against Okuda’s caring and harmless nature, one of the main traits why Karma is so comfortable around her. Later into the game, Isogai and Maehara talk about who they think would win and Okuda yells out that she wants Karma to win, despite being in the “save” team. This shows her own resolve and ability to separate her personal principles from her relationship with Karma.

Manga: Ch 147 - Okuda states why she wants Karma to win

It’s not that she wants Koro-sensei to die, it's that she understood what killing Koro-sensei means for Karma. She, of all people, knew the hard work Karma put on behind the scenes. When others simply dismiss Karma’s achievements as “genius,” she (and Koro-sensei) knew that Karma works hard, no matter how much he tries to hide that side of him to the world. This comes with his resolve that he is not the best and he has to put in effort if he wants to be the most capable in reaching his goal. Okuda sees all that. Given the choice, Okuda would rather save Koro-sensei, yet if things don’t go her way, she trusts that Karma earned the chance to fulfill his goal. This duality illustrates that whether the class decides to save or kill, she can accept it wholeheartedly. She wouldn’t have regrets because she gave it her best shot from a decision she made herself.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma hides evidence of him studying hard on the last day of summer break

In relationships, it’s important to have set boundaries for what you share with your partner and the things that make you, you. Okuda’s character exemplifies this well as she is not shown to be a side character that follows Karma around, she’s a friend whom Karma can share his vulnerabilities with while being able to keep her individuality intact. While she is known to be lacking in the ability to communicate, in the end, she’s able to say what’s on her mind when it matters—without any filters. She is brave and strong in her own way and has the capability to provide a new perspective—a trait that can stimulate Karma’s intellect. I believe this would blend well in their relationship because Karma seems to be the type who would get bored hanging out with someone who can’t keep up with him. This shows that their relationship can be an equal exchange of support and trust rather than one being subservient or wary of the other.

Additionally, her pure honesty and lack of fear for Karma is a perfect example of how she can stand up on her own. Everyone is afraid of Karma to some extent which makes them avoid him, possibly right according to how Karma likes to push people away with his behavior. Having someone whose basic nature is to not get swept away by the norm, to be able to choose for herself in how she views Karma, and to be overall honest with her intents really paves the way for a mutual trusting relationship.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - The girls in class find Karma attractive but scary but Okuda disagrees.

What I find interesting in Okuda’s lack of fear for Karma is that she says this even after seeing him directly start a fight with delinquents the day before. This is episode 8, 3 episodes after her debut in episode 5. Assuming that Karma only started approaching her after learning about her poison-making skills, that’s quite a short period to get to know Karma—a known violent delinquent and the most skilled fighter in class—and to claim that he is “not that scary.” This implies that by this time, they have started to get to know each other better, Karma probably treats her well, and that they’ve interacted enough off-screen to arrive at the conclusion that he is not scary. Much like how Karma’s interest in her comes from her chemistry skills rather than her looks, this girl knows Karma is more than his external features and she can speak her mind even though it’s contrary to the public opinion.

Karma’s character development

Manga: Ch 19 - The boys ask Karma who he’s interested in among the girls in class

From the key scene that fueled this ship, many may claim that Karma is just using her for personal gain. I personally believe this argument is made by people who stopped understanding character growth at season 1 or simply cannot grasp at all that humans change over time. As with a lot of relationships, the interest in other people has to start somewhere. For Karma, the interest starts here with the maturity level of a 15 year-old prankster. Being one of the main characters, Karma goes through character development in the way he views the world, himself, and the people surrounding him. He changes a lot in a span of one year so it wouldn’t be impossible to believe that his interest in Okuda grows beyond having a convenient drug dealer.

One common trait that makes Karma comfortable around people like Nagisa and Okuda is that they are seemingly harmless to him. The statement and intent sounds problematic as a standalone but it’s important to point out how Karma uses this information in his relationships. A typical toxic psychopath would prey on their harmlessness to bully them into taking advantage of them. Karma’s comfort hanging around harmless friends stems more from their inability to hurt him rather than his capability to hurt them. Although Karma is labeled as a violent delinquent, he isn’t a low-level scum-type delinquent that starts a fight for the sake of fighting. As far as I can remember, all cases of Karma’s problematic delinquent behavior is fighting with strangers who provoked him first or he was actually trying to defend someone weaker. His friendship with Nagisa started with a common interest and he was comfortable until he felt threatened by Nagisa’s dormant skill for assassination. Not once did he try to take advantage of Nagisa’s pacifist nature for his personal gains. The same applies for his friendship with Okuda—she piqued his interests with her chemistry skills, he learns that she is harmless and comfortable to be with, and a genuine friendship evolves from there. His interest in her skills may be mischievous but he never showed any aggression or intent to take advantage of Okuda. Neither did he force or threaten her to do those for her. She even wrote that she was able to experience challenging experiments because of his requests in her yearbook message to Karma, something that sounds like she actually enjoyed the fruit of his mischievous intents.

Anime: S1 Ep 8 - Karma tells why he’s interested in Okuda

For those who believe that this scene is a weak foundation for liking someone, well, at that point, Karma hasn’t really developed a romantic type of interest in her. As mentioned, this is how his interest in her begins, not the sole reason for him to be attracted to her. Playing around, making mischief happen, sharing fun times is something that develops friendships. A good friendship is the solid foundation for a comfortable romantic relationship later on. Character development is a real thing and these two won’t have the brain of mischievous middle-schoolers for the rest of their lives.

Anime: S2 Ep 6 - The Witch and The Knight used chloroform to save the day

Karma can feel at ease with Okuda

During the Test of Courage, Karma and Okuda were paired up which gave them time alone to talk about something that’s been bothering Karma. As we all know, Karma never shows his vulnerabilities to anyone at this point in time, not even around classmates who are known to get along with him. Koro-sensei had to earn it by looking out for him and it took time for him to warm up yet even then, he wouldn’t be caught casually sharing something as personal as his fear. The exception is Okuda. The series never explicitly shows how Okuda earned that trust but this scene paints something unusual in Karma’s well-guarded nature. It’s not impossible that they’ve shared enough moments off-screen—moments valuable enough for Okuda to earn Karma’s trust halfway through the school year. To note, it appears that Okuda never even initiated asking Karma what’s bothering him and yet, Karma simply shared what’s on his mind to her.

Anime: S2 Ep 1 - Karma talks about his fear to Okuda during the Test of Courage

We don’t actually see this kind of vulnerability display around friends that Karma spent a lot of fun times with on-screen such as Nakamura and Terasaka. During the civil war, Nakamura notices something unusual in Karma, as if something is bothering him but Karma immediately brushes it off and shows his usual face excusing it as having just woken up. Karma and Nakamura have been shown to get along well as fellow pranksters, possibly with more lines in scenes together than Okuda and Karma ever had in the entire series, yet for some reason, this friendship hasn’t reached the point where Karma can at least give a hint of what’s bothering him when he’s alone with Nakamura even after she asks him about his thoughts.

Manga: Ch 144 - Nakamura notices something unusual about Karma at the start of the class civil war

As for Terasaka, he seems to have earned a teasingly trusting friendship with Karma. Terasaka gives his trust in being manipulated by Karma’s wits and Karma seems to show acknowledgement for how this pseudo-Takaoka has grown. Yet the most Karma would show around him is a vague suggestion that he would like to see him in the real world again someday as colleagues. Perhaps this is simply how men communicate with each other but I guess with everything they’ve experienced, Karma acknowledges some sort of friendship with Terasaka, but not enough for him to expound or eloquently communicate why he would like to see Terasaka as a politician when he himself becomes a bureaucrat. Karma’s unsolicited suggestion for Terasaka hints at his vision for his future and how he sees someone like Terasaka in it but his language doesn’t scratch the surface of intimate vulnerability as it did around Okuda in the test of courage.

Anime: S2 Ep 9 - Karma tells Terasaka to become a politician after career counseling with Koro-sensei

Throughout the series, we see Karma come out of his small world and slowly connecting and caring for his classmates. He gets along quite well with them and appreciates their company and how this class allows him to be himself. All this is temporary as they will go their separate ways once they graduate. In addition, Karma also appears to be the type to value the quality friendships he has built. This would imply that in order to maintain a bond with him after graduation, Karma would have to actively show an interest in connecting with them. In the case of Okuda, he seems to be interested in her enough to look forward to spending more time with her after graduation, as shown in his yearbook message to her stating that his year was made more fun with her around and that he’s looking forward for more.

It seems in each relationship he has, there exists an aspect that makes one distinct from the others. The existence of shared interests and getting along, a sense of comfort and security without fear of being betrayed, the willingness to extend effort in seeing them again, and the extent of being able to express in detail his vulnerabilities and deeper musings seem to be some distinct factors that make up Karma’s quality relationships. While each notable friendship satisfies at least one or two categories, none of them have all four except Okuda. The presence of all these qualities in his relationship with Okuda makes her stand out and have the potential to grow from good mischievous friends to lifetime supportive partners.

In the case of battle compatibility, Okuda may be far from giving Karma direct assistance in the battlefield. However, there’s an angle I wish to discuss that makes me think of how it translates to their compatibility. One scene that oddly stood out for me was during their encounter with delinquents in their Kyoto trip. The delinquents attacked, leaving the boys unconscious, subsequently kidnapping Kayano and Kanzaki. Okuda managed to slip away and hide leaving her to check on the boys when the environment became safe.

Anime: S1 Ep 7 - Okuda reappears apologizing for hiding when the delinquents attacked.

What made this scene interesting is that Okuda could have been kidnapped along with Kayano and Kanzaki and the result would have been the same. The boys could have read the trip manual and called Koro-sensei. Sure enough, Koro-sensei could single-handedly save them once they got to the hideout. It didn’t matter whether one, two, or three unarmed girls got kidnapped. So why paint this scene with her being able to slip away without the delinquents getting a chance to grab her?

My interpretation for this small detail is that Karma doesn’t always have to worry about Okuda. Karma gets into a lot of fights. Even in his future career as a bureaucrat, he will surely get into dangerous situations involving politicians. He has always been the type to be on guard 24/7. Even back when he was comfortable around Nagisa who he believed to be harmless and a good friend, he couldn’t let his guard down. Imagine the stress that burdens his shoulders having to keep his guard up for himself and having to extend that to another person. Wouldn’t that be too much for him to sustain in the long run?

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - The feeling Karma got when Nagisa sneakily poked his back while looking for him in WcDonalds

Anime: S2 Ep 18 - Karma and Nagisa hanging out in the middle of their second year

For someone without exemplary combat abilities like Okuda, slipping away to safety is a smart move. Even at that moment, Karma acknowledged that she did the right thing. Of course we know this is not the type of running away in order to abandon a comrade. I believe it’s safe to claim that nobody in 3-E would truly go that route. What Okuda did was wise and if the scenario were a little different, slipping away could have given her the chance to send support, prepare weapons, and an overall better fighting chance than just standing there frozen or getting herself kidnapped. She slipped away using quick thinking and if you think about it, it takes skill to sneak away unnoticed when both ends of a narrow ally are surrounded by big, menacing delinquents. Her ability to act wisely by herself can definitely be a load off Karma’s chest knowing that the people he cares for can take care of themselves should he be rendered unable to protect them.

Additionally, Okuda’s nature is the type that Karma can trust to be capable enough to protect herself without feeling that she’s a threat to him, something rare among his relationships with other friends. This detail is small and subtle but it hints her potential supportive and reassuring dynamic with Karma wherein Okuda can safely lend background assistance without worrying a combat-ready Karma. As Karma mentions back at her later in the series, running away is also a battle strategy. Whether he learned this technique from Okuda or not is a mystery but I like to think that towards the end of the series and almost a year of trust and friendship, some of Okuda’s traits and mindsets have rubbed off on Karma enough for him to adopt it in his strategies.

Anime: S2 Ep 23 - Karma grabs Okuda’s wrist to get away from danger

For someone as cocky as Karma, being able to pull off a humble-yet-wise move is something noteworthy. This humility could be the mixed influence of Koro-sensei’s care and Okuda’s nature. Not only does Okuda provide a load off his shoulders, she is also capable of bringing new perspectives in solving problems for Karma.

In a long-term relationship, Karma deserves to feel at ease. Whether as a friend or a life partner, he deserves someone he can trust not just in opening up, but also at times when he’s vulnerable. For me, this is something that his dynamic with Okuda can provide. She may not be the best to fight alongside others in the frontline but she can provide background support so Karma can be guaranteed that he is not alone in a fight and he will not be coming home to a lonely place after a fight.

From being an approachable friend that he gets along with to a partner he can trust and be vulnerable around, all these seem to point at a special connection Karma feels around Okuda—enough for her to be just the right support he needs while being able to treat her right. Okuda may not talk or stand out much but Karma seems to see traits in her that make him gravitate towards her with ease. She doesn’t stand out in the general crowd but she stands out for Karma, where her traits are appreciated.

____________________

Notes: I have the tendency to lean towards the less popular ships in Anime (such as Yukihira Souma x Tadakoro Megumi in Shokugeki no Souma) over the obvious ships in the spotlight. I believe it has something to do with my inclination to more mature and supportive relationships that appeal to people in their 20s rather than hormone-induced pairings that sound like high school flings targeted for 14 year old girls. To note, I was at that age once but once you hit your 20s, you realize that some ships are more problematic than you remember. This is my second time watching AC (first time was in 2016) and I honestly don’t recall shipping them back then. I don’t even recall picking up on karumana hints before. But now after rewatching it in my 20s, I find it quite intriguing how I find this couple so cute, while knowing that I’ve grown out of my shoujo manga days. These days, I don’t have tolerance for shoujo-esque ships that are practically “it’s not sexual harassment if he’s hot.” Looking back, a lot of shoujo mangas/anime were like that in my teenage years. While Karma started out with high Marty Stu potential like shoujo main boys, AC developed its characters well such that their characters and future career paths were more realistic—something you come to appreciate as someone who has already gone through their own 7-year timeskip.

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baby-grayson · 4 years

Text

Sweet Enigma: Part 2

Word Count: 2918

Tag List: @wheezeatmedolans @styles-dolan @prettyboydolan @evergreendolan @baby-turtles @dolanstacoma @not-gbd @graysavant @someonetogray @dolansficsandpics @ batgirl099 @voguekristens

Grayson’s eyes shifted from his seat in Kate’s car to his front door. His mouth folded into a tight ball, while he huffed out of his nose. His weak sinus responded by triggering a cough that filled the space of Kate’s car.

She winced and gave him a sideways glance from the driver’s side, “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

Grayson nodded and cleared his throat. He ran a hand through his hair and looked down, thankful to see that he was no longer wet—although he was highly disheveled. He pushed the passenger side door open and convinced his legs to walk toward his front door.

For a moment, he second guessed whether his key would open his own front door. Something about his house made it seem like foreign territory, like it belonged to another version of Grayson with much different priorities than the one that walked over that threshold.

Almost immediately, Grayson was faced with the tall, looming, svelte figure of Calvin Maddox.

Calvin Maddox was a slim shouldered, lengthy man with perfectly kept white hair: who walked with all the power, elegance, and traditionalism that came with having old money. Maddox had inherited a fortune from his bloodline: he maintained his money via his status as a Real Estate Tycoon in the deep South. Up until the night before, Calvin had liked Grayson. He had looked forward to being his father-in-law one day. Calvin would have never uttered this out loud in front of his family, but he even favored Grayson over his current son-in-law, Sherry’s sister Coral’s husband, Jackson White.

In that moment, Calvin’s steely blue eyes were forged with hatred and detest while he looked down his nose at Grayson while he made his way through the front door. Calvin’s figure reminded Grayson of a wolf, as the older man prowled his way across the living room and silently stepped in front of Grayson’s path. For a second, Grayson could have sworn he saw the man snarl at him.

“You’ve got some nerve,” Calvin’s Southern accent was thick and slathered with a calm anger, “Walking through that door, like nothing ever happened.” Grayson’s pupils trembled in his eyes as Calvin crossed his arms.

“I-uh,” Grayson stammered, “I just wanted to get a few things. I’m uh—I’m sorry—I am but—I’m not looking for a problem.” Grayson held out his palms in from of him, taking in a few shaky breaths. Calvin stepped toward Grayson, keeping his arms crossed. “You know my daughter wasn’t looking for a problem when she agreed to be your wife. But now I’m wondering if that’s really the case, son.” In the past year, Calvin had started calling Grayson ‘son’, in act of Southern hospitality. Usually, Grayson found it comforting; on that day, the word was charged with antagonistic energy.

Grayson gulped down, feeling his heart pound from deep within his chest. He opened his mouth to say something but found his entire mouth was dry, with his tongue hanging heavy against his palette.

“Now,” Calvin took another step toward Grayson. He narrowed his eyes at Grayson before continuing, “You want to tell me what happened last night Grayson.” Calvin took another step toward Grayson, leaving only a few inches of space between them, “Or are we going to have a problem?”

Grayson went blank, staring up at the older man with wide eyes and shallow breaths. His tongue flopped inside of his mouth, failing to create anything that could become coherent words. His bottom lip trembled as he tried to find a response that could face the moment.

From inside the house, behind the pair, a few footsteps came sauntering through the hallway.

“Hey,” Ethan’s voice was low and calm, “What’s going on out here?”

Grayson’s eyes immediately found Ethan’s: a pair of unsure, nervous eyes meeting an identical pair laced with assurance and relief.

Calvin did not shift from his position in front of Grayson. “Nothing Ethan,” he looked over his shoulder to find Ethan standing in an identical position: crossed arms and steely eyes. Calvin dropped his hands at his sides and stepped back from Grayson’s personal space, “Just asking your brother if he could explain why he decided to break my baby girl’s heart last night.” Grayson gulped again. He saw an accomplished look wash through Calvin’s eyes for a moment.

Calvin looked down, surprised to see Ethan place a hand on his shoulder, “I think my brother will talk, when he’s ready to talk.”

Grayson’s mouth fell into a tight line and he pushed his shoulders back: trying to feign confidence. Ethan patted Calvin’s shoulder chummily, nearly mocking the tension of the moment, “C’mon Calvin, I think you should eat something.” Grayson was extremely grateful to see Ethan lead the man away coolly. Finally alone in the room, Grayson breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn’t aware of it at the time, but Ethan had made excuses for Grayson’s disappearance the night before. In the weeks prior, Ethan had noticed his brother’s confidence slowly fade into a squirrelfish demeaner: he knew it was just a matter of time until Grayson’s façade broke. Ethan was shocked that Grayson chose his own engagement party to accept his inner qualms. Ethan wrote it off as another example of Grayson being the dumber twin.

From the car, Kate pulled down the sun visor in her car to inspect herself in the mirror. While Grayson mentally sparred with Calvin Maddox in the house, Kate discovered a few stress pimples forming between her temple and her left eye. She sighed and bored holes into the front door with her eyes, silently begging Grayson to come back as quickly as possible. She looked back in the mirror to recognize the under-eye bags and frizzy, unkept hair that came as a consolation prize with being a third-year doctoral student.

Grayson’s steps were hurried and frantic as he raced to his own bedroom: barely recognizing it under the hoards of overturned drawers and bags laying out the room. In a manic fit, Sherry had scoured and destroyed everything she could get her hands on, in a mad effort to understand where Grayson had gone and why he would want to leave her. Grayson’s heart stopped for a second, but his mind emphasized the importance of haste.

Moving quickly, he grabbed his orange, leather, Louis Vuitton duffel bag from the top shelf of his closet. He shuffled through piles of clothing to find the few pieces he though he would need in the coming days. He didn’t pay attention to the shoes he grabbed from his closet, putting whatever he found first in the bag. He was looking down at the bag, taking an inventory of what he had packed when the door to his on-suite bathroom slowly opened with a painful screech on its hinges.

In the door frame, was the image of Grayson’s exhausted, angry, and frenzied fiancé.

Sherry Kerrigan Maddox was drawn into the world with womanly curves and a Cheshire Cat smile. She knew nothing except for the high-class, debutante life of a Southern heiress. She grew up trailing her mother and sister at high-profile events: wearing big hats, drinking sweet iced tea, and laughing politely at the jokes of the country’s richest southern dynasties.

Sherry spent most of her teenage life away from her mother and father, attending a private boarding school with her older sister, Coral. Unlike Coral, Sherry never did particularly well in school. The only subject she was ever mildly interested in was French, which she learned to speak with superb proficiency, something that came in handy with her future modeling career. Once, Sherry had cried when she was handed a math test. Her teacher, who had just graduated from college, excused Sherry from taking the test in an act of kindness, not wanting to subject a young girl to public emotional strife. When the board of Sherry’s private school found out, they threated Sherry with suspension on the order of disobedience and violating the academic validity code. A cool word and hot money from Calvin Maddox promised that the teacher would be let go from the school, while his daughter could continue to happily doodle in her notebooks and forget about Algebra.

She was, objectively, beautiful. Her round face was complimented with full cheeks and a soft jawline. Her blue eyes were wide but almond shaped: inherently sensual. She wore a strong, arched brow: the brunette color of which exposed her as a fake blonde. But her hair was a gorgeous golden hue, always sitting exactly perfectly on her head. Sherry Maddox knew, quite well, that lipstick lasted longer, but always preferred to wear gloss, because it was more fun.

Her voice was choked with waves of torment, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Every muscle in Grayson’s body stiffened. In a deep place, he knew this conversation was coming he just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. He swallowed hard, meeting his lips together in a flat pout. He let out a hard breath as Sherry spoke again, “What are you doing here?” Grayson didn’t turn to face her, “Sherry-I-“ “NO!” Her usual Southern elegance was gone from her presence, replaced with the unhinged pain of a woman with a broken heart, “You don’t get to say my name! You don’t get to just,” she motioned her arms in the air, “waltz in here!”

Grayson stammered and turned to find Sherry with tears in her eyes, shaking a pointed finger at him. He closed his mouth.

“So?” Her voice held a sharp edge, “You don’t have anything to say for yourself?” She gritted her teeth, “You leave me there. Alone. In front of everyone. And you can’t even apologize.”

Grayson exhaled; his jaw shook in the attempt at finding something to say. He signed, “I’m sorry. I—I don’t know—I” Sherry interrupted him, “You? You embarrassed me? You humiliated me? You left me to explain to TMZ and Page6 why you weren’t there? You left me there to listen to Ethan’s pathetic excuses for you?” She sneered at him, “You must think I’m really stupid.”

Grayson reached an arm behind him, placing it on his duffel bag. He silently wished that he could run away, and leave this moment frozen for a more prepared Grayson to handle. “I don’t think that Sherry. I just –I need time.” His eyes pleaded with her; his heart felt like it was being plucked at by a thousand angry, clawed birds.

Sherry laughed: a cold laugh without an ounce of humor in her face. “You need time?” Her voice was vicious. “You need? Wow. We’re talking about what you need. What about what I need? What about the fact that I needed you last night? Thought didn’t cross your mind did it?”

Grayson’s face folded into a pained position, “I’m sorry Sherry. I really am. I—We—I can’t do this anymore.” In one swift motion, Grayson picked up his duffel bag and headed for the door. He tried to block out the sounds of Sherry’s cries and screams.

Making his way to Kate’s car, Grayson’s internal structure was panged with guilt. His mind tremored with the realization of the gravity of his actions.

Grayson landed in Kate’s passenger seat in a hectic, distressed position. Kate silently wished she had suggested that Grayson call Ethan to collect his things. Grayson turned to face her; a distraught form of inner terror palpable in his eyes.

His voice was low, “We’re really doing this.”

She gave him a sideways glance, “You’re really doing this.”

Grayson’s mouth flatlined. His jaw locked with tension and guilt. He thought back to Sherry, peering at the front door through the car window, he turned to face Kate.

The wounds in his heart burned when she said, “I’m not the one who needs a second chance because I treated you right the first time.”

The car ride to Kate’s apartment was silent except for the gentle buzz of her engine. She parked on the street and didn’t say a word to Grayson as she exited the car.

With her keys dangling in her hand, she quickly marched up the stairs and through her front door. Her energy was fluxed by the sight of Wesley in her living room. “Hey,” his voice was heavy with concern, “I texted you. I thought we were going for breakfast this morning?” His big brown eyes were weighed down with his care for her.

Kate’s mouth went dry as he tongues floundered for a moment, “Sorry—I must have forgotten. You know how things have been lately, I’ve been working more than I’ve been breathing.” Her words mushed together, making her sentence sound like one over-extended syllable.

Wesley stood up and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, “You doing alright Katie? I’ve been worried about you but this—this isn’t like you.” He gently thumbed her clavicle, “Maybe you should put work down for a little bit.”

Kate shook her head quickly, “No-I mean yes. Yes. That’s exactly what I am going to do. I was going to call you. I’m leaving. For now. To go to..Philly! I’m going to spend time with my mom in Philly.” She nodded enthusiastically, trying to fake a smile.

Wesley seemed satisfied with this answer, as his eyes lost some of their murk, “Good. I’m happy for you. When are you leaving?” “Today!” Kate’s answer came a bit too fast and too loud.

Wesley furrowed his brow, “And when are you getting back? Maybe we can take a weekend together before you go back to work?”

“I’m not sure,” Kate gave a weak shrug, “I didn’t book my return ticket yet.” She sucked in her top lip, “I was going to wait—for the weather. Wouldn’t want to book a ticket during a snowstorm.” Wesley placed a gentle kiss on her head, “Say hi to your mom for me. And remember, I’m a phone call away.” Kate’s own heart betrayed her as her pulse quickened under Wesley’s lips, “Will do.” She sighed in relief when she stepped away and headed for the door, “Enjoy your trip. Love you Katie.” “Love y-“ Wesley shut the front door and she did not finish.

Kate was emotionally uncomfortable. Not from lying to Wesley because this was not the first time she had lied to him. She was uncomfortable with how nearly comfortable she was in this dialogue.

She shifted her emotions to a distant place in her mind, deciding to struggle with them later. She worked methodically to pack a backpack with the clothes and toiletries she would need for the trip. At the bottom of her closet, she pulled out a shoebox with the two t-shirts and one pair of sweatpants she was left with after breaking up with Grayson. She included the pieces in her backpack, figuring this was as good a chance as any to give them back to him.

Hustling out of her door, she looked down to see her school bag thrown against the floor. She picked it up, her research in the back of her mind. With two backpacks and a jacket slung over her shoulder, she made her way to Grayson in her car outside.

Kate shoved her things in the back seat, next to Grayson’s duffel bag. With a huff, she dropped herself in the driver’s seat and turned to face Grayson.

He started first, “I’m sorry.” He spoke quickly, “I’m so sorry. I know I’m dragging you into this when you don’t deserve to be here. I should have never assumed that you would even be remotely interested in trying to—” Kate held up a finger to his lips. “This is my decision too.” Her voice was steady, the opposite of his frenzied tone. Grayson shook his head, his mouth felt sparks under her slender finger. “You’re not responsible for sorting through my emotions.” She looked at him, a serene balance in her eyes. She spoke with a confidence, “If I didn’t want to help you, I wouldn’t be here.”

#im proud of how i wrote this #i usually think i am a shit writer #so this is a new feeling for me #i really hope you like it #grayson dolan #fanfic #grayson x oc #dolan twins #ethan #ethan dolan #grayson #youtuber #long fic #series #blurb #concept #romance #angst

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aelin-queen-of-terrasen · 4 years

Note

Rowaelin for the OTP Drabble #24

Lmao, this was so fun to write. Thank you for the request! This is like, my first try at Rowaelin fanfictions so please don't kill me if it's bad. I promise I'm improving everyday! 😌

Detention Diaries

Pairing: Rowan x Aelin

Word count: 2012 words.

Warnings: A little swearing here and there.

Summary: Rowan Whitethorn has spent three years of high school like a nobody but when the self proclaimed queen of Terrasen High lands them both into detention, maintaining a low profile might be impossible.

Aelin was so done with the day.

She had accidentally stayed up all night reading a book and now, her eyelids itched to shut down. She had already dozed off thrice in Maths class and had it not been for Dorian shaking her every two minutes, Ms Meave would have had Aelin's head.

Even now, she suppressed a yawn as she made her way to the lockers in the hallway. "I am so screwed. I have an English test today."

A few students waved their hands at Aelin in passing and she gave them a smile. Aelin won't say she was popular but she did know a lot of people in the school, thanks to her cousin Aedion being on the football team and Dorian in the student council.

Dorian rolled his eyes as they stopped by his locker. "Don't be dramatic. You can't fail English even half asleep."

Her best friend was searching for something in his locker when the crowd quieted down and he came. Rowan Whitethorn.

She had heard his name whispered enough times in gossip circles to know just what kind of things he was involved in. The guy had a reputation for being a cold hearted asshole, even if Aelin had never even heard him raise his voice.

A hood covered a better part of his face, hiding the tattoo that covered half his pretty face. She could make out the silver hair peaking from beneath the hood, the oversized hoodie doing nothing to flatter the muscles they all knew he had.

He was beautiful.

Dorian noticed her stare, then rolled his eyes. He kissed her cheek, then said, "Don't get into trouble. I have Physics next." And then Dorian was gone.

Aelin tried to ignore the blush that fought it's way onto her cheeks as she walked beside Rowan. She had to remind herself that he never talked to anyone and this would only lead to heartbreak but maybe her sense of self preservation was half asleep too because she said, "Going to English?"

Her words were met with silence. She already knew he was going to English. It was one of the many classes they had in common but an answer would have been nice. She tried again, "Ready for the test today, Rowan?"

"Yes," was all he said.

Then Rowan quickened his pace, possibly to lose Aelin in the crowd but she was the uncrowned queen of Terrasen High. While the students parted to make way for Rowan out of fear, they parted for Aelin out of love and admiration.

She made sure to wave and smile at a few of them as she fought to catch up with Rowan's awfully long strides.

The test hadn't even started when they arrived to the class. Their English teacher Gavriel was sitting in his chair, a thick stack of papers on his desk. When he noticed Aelin entering the class with Rowan, her uncle raised an eyebrow. What trouble are you getting into now?

"No trouble," She promised him out loud as Rowan went to take a seat.

She chose to sit directly behind him and started on her test as soon as it was distributed. The test was fairly easy, even though Aelin had to put some extra efforts to recall a few names and places in between, thanks to the sleep deprivation. At one point, she was ready to throw her pen at the nearest wall and go to sleep then and there. She only managed to stay awake throughout with a sheer force of will.

The real trouble arose when she had finished the test. Not having anything else to do, Aelin decided to poke Rowan with her ruler.

He turned around, his pine green eyes brimming with fury and Aelin raised an eyebrow, face carefully blank. "Something I can help you with, sir?"

"Stop," He said in deep, rough and slightly accented voice that sent shivers down her spine before turning around.

Gods, even his voice was beautiful.

Aelin wrote on the back of her answersheet: Your voice is beautiful. Do you sing too? She crumpled the paper into a ball, then kicked it gently towards Rowan, who had also finished writing the test.

He did not answer back. Silence means affirmation, Mr. Whitethorn. Will I have the pleasure of hearing you sing sometime? She threw the note at the back of his head this time, drawing attention from a few students. For all that she loved being the social butterfly, Aelin was not keen of the rumours that came with popularity but she was having too much fun trying to piss Rowan off.

He opened the note, read it, then shoved it into his pocket. Then he turned around and snarled quietly, "Do not fuck with me, princess."

That had to be the most words she had heard him say ever and ignoring the tone with which he had delivered the words, Aelin felt a small amount of giddiness at the term of endearment he had used. Princess, she sighed to herself.

Her smile must have been very apparent because Uncle Gavriel asked, "Something funny, Miss Galathynius?"

"Why, the question paper," She answered with a lazy wave of her hand, "a child could do this, sir. If you want me to take your tests seriously, at least make them a little difficult."

A few students snickered.

Gavriel rolled his eyes, then went back to keeping an eye on everyone. A minute or two passed and Aelin was already dozing off again. She kicked Rowan's chair and someone whispered her name from behind her.

Aedion was hissing at her from two rows over, "Whatever you are doing, stop it. Whitethorn will kill you off."

Whitethorn did indeed look like he wanted to kill her off but God, Aelin had to be in some mood today because she ignored the glares from both the males, flipping her cousin off and went back to kicking at Rowan's chair. His knuckles were tightly gripping his desk as if he was trying not to strangle her and seeing his expression, she didn't doubt for a second that he gladly would.

"Rowan," she called. "Rowan, will you tell me what shampoo you use? Your hair looks so silky!"

He gave her an incredulous look before smoothing his features into a blank expression. She wrote him another note: Please, tell me what shampoo??? Please? Your hair looks so pretty and they smell SO good. His hair did shine beautifully and they even smelt nice but Aelin did it less out of curiosity and more because she was bored and Rowan Whitethorn was her best chance at entertainment.

When he received the note, Rowan's eyes went wide. He growled back at her. "Gods, do you never stop, Aelin?"

Aelin opened her mouth to answer but her uncle beat her to it. "Miss Galathynius and Mr Whitethorn, if you don't stop now, you're going to find yourself in the principal's office."

"Excuse me, sir, but she is bothering me," Rowan said, his cheeks tinged pink.

Aelin gasped dramatically, rising from her seat. She pointed an accusatory finger at the brooding figure in front of her, then said, "Liar, Liar, pants on fire! You were the one insisting we should be friends!"

"Friends?" Rowan scoffed. "The only thing I'm going to be around you is irritated."

Gavriel was making his way towards them and Aelin had no qualms about throwing him under the bus. He hadn't stopped to think before he had accused her of bothering him, had he? Why should she?

Because he was telling the truth. You're not, some sane voice said from the back of her mind.

Aelin did not pay it any attention. "That's not what you were saying out in the hallway when we were flirting!"

Aelin took a huge amount of satisfaction when Rowan's cheeks flushed with colour, the tips of his ears turning a dark red. "Flirting? With you? I'd rather die in a ditch—"

"DETENTION, BOTH OF YOU!" Her uncle bellowed.

Rowan let out a loud growl of protest. Aelin just shrugged, a smug smile on her face as she sat back down.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

Rowan had never been more pissed. He did not know anyone as insufferable as Aelin Galathynius with her reputation around the school as a heartbreaker, the self-proclaimed princess of Terrasen High. He loathed how hard she laughed sometimes, drawing all attention towards herself. He loathed how her eyes crinkled, the gold rings around the turquoise shining brighter every time she smiled.

She had everyone in the school at her beck and call and it pissed Rowan off.

Even now, she sauntered into detention with a swagger as if there was no other place she would rather be. The class was empty, save for Rowan and a dark haired guy sitting in the back. Aelin noticed him too and raised an eyebrow, "Why, Fenrys darling, what did you do to end up in this hellscape?"

Fenrys had a wry smile playing on his lips. "It's not Hell if you're here, sweetheart."

Right. If Rowan tried hard enough, he could recall a conversation in the locker rooms about the school player, Fenrys Moonbeam leaving some party with Aelin Galathynius, both of them drunk as shit. Fenrys, the quarterback of the football team with his charming smiles and bedroom eyes was the kind of guy Aelin Ashryver Galathynius would date.

Fenrys twisted in his seat to get a better look at the spawn of satan. She gave him an intimate, coy smile—the kind that you only reserve for some select few people. Rowan shifted in his seat, suddenly feeling like an intruder. He coughed loudly. "If you are going to undress each other with your eyes, have the decency to find yourself a room."

Aelin's answering smile was full of fire—wicked, dangerous wildfire. "Jealous, Whitethorn?"

Rowan scoffed, wishing he had the power to make her choke on air with one look. He had to be in some mood today. Thank the three faced goddess that Lorcan was absent today. Rowan knew Lorcan would give him an endless amount of shit if his best friend saw Rowan drive himself insane over childish, insolent, bratty Aelin Galathynius.

At least she and Fenrys were sitting two seats apart now, whispering quietly to each other. When five minutes passed and no teacher entered, Aelin rose from her seat and walked towards the window.

"What are you doing?" Rowan asked, then frowned. Maybe he shouldn't have spoken.

The expression on Aelin's face definitely told him he should not have spoken at all. She was smirking that obnoxious smirk of hers as she drawled out, "Not all of us are obedient little students, Whitethorn. See you around, preferably when you've grown some balls."

Rowan huffed. During his years in high school, he had always thought of Aelin as an arrogant, immature troublemaker. Now he could add rude to that list too.

Fenrys was already standing guard on the door. "Quick, Aelin! Mr Gavriel is going to come our way any minute."

Then Aelin turned, giving him a slow, simpering smile that clearly conveyed her thoughts about what she thought of his insistence to remain in detention. Scared, Whitethorn? And gods damn him, he was scared, not of being caught skipping but what an hour spent with Aelin might do to him. It was the challenge in those turquoises eyes, the taunt hidden behind her smile that had him rising from his seat.

She stepped back, letting him jump out of the window first. He was wondering if he should extend a hand to help or not when she leaped out with a grace he had never known she possessed.

Aelin was grinning, wider than ever and this may be the worst idea he had ever had but Rowan asked, "Where to?"

When the blonde haired girl straightened, shoulders pulled back and confident like a Queen, he decided that even if this was as likely to end in disaster as anything else, Rowan knew he owed it to himself to find out.

•❅──────✧❅✦❅✧──────❅•

I am not sure if I should finish this here. If enough people want to read further, I might turn this into a multi chapter fic so feel free to drop your thoughts on that in the comments! Also, if anyone would like to be added to the taglist, please let me know!

Tags:

@thesirenwashere

@judexcardanxgreenbriar

@the-dark-swan

@fangirltrash74

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iturbide · 3 years

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Okay I got me thoughts again and Byleth doesn’t end up recruiting any students - even if he does miss them admittedly, he can’t risk being captured by Edelgard. He knows the moment Edelgard catches him, it’s gonna be much harder, if it’s even possible, to escape a second time. Really, his main goal during the timeskip, after taking care of a certain something, is to STAY UNDETECTED (1/7)

once again under a cut because there’s so much stuff here and it’s so good

Honestly it’s probably for the best that Byleth doesn’t do a ton of recruiting in advance. He cares about his students, and leaving just the ones he’d been initially responsible for in the Black Eagles would be hard enough -- others who joined specifically because they trusted him...? Oof. Ouch. Keep to a no recruit run, it at least takes some of the edge off.

Agreed, though, Seteth desperately needs a raise and a long vacation. Even if that vacation can only be spent at the fishing pond with Flayn, he desperately needs it. If it weren’t bad enough standing in as the archbishop, it might be growing increasingly clear that Rhea’s not in a sound state of mind and might, in fact, be degenerating -- meaning her input is not really the most helpful, and she poses an additional risk to her own side as much as the enemy. He’s...he’s really between a rock and a hard place, isn’t he? Not even accounting for how Garreg Mach is going to need supplies even for defensive operations, and it’s a small piece of territory comparatively that might not be able to sustain itself on its own depending on how many troops they need to raise and maintain. An alliance with Dimitri might not be just advantageous, it might be vital if it can get them supplies to keep holding out against the Empire, no matter how sparse they might be (since the Kingdom still has its own war effort to maintain and isn’t the most fertile region out there).

As much as I love Claude hearing these rumors and putting the pieces together I think those rumors might not be the best way to get them involved with each other, because if they exist then it means Edelgard likely knows about them, too. There’s only one person she could think of that has such minimal expressive affect, and it would get her honed in on Byleth’s last known location the second she catches wind of it. It’s still in Byleth’s best interests to cut down any Imperial that they run afoul of...but at the same time, they could easily take advantage of other kinds of rumors. For example, if there was a place that Byleth and Claude used to to for their meetings -- whether it was somewhere in the town below the monastery or maybe outside the grounds at a particular tree or something -- they could leave a note there and let the rumors spin about someone going to this place that most people steer clear of, goodness, what were they doing there...? At which point Claude, being smart, might go investigate and find the message Byleth left them. It would put them in contact, at least, even if they’re not able to truly join forces.

You’re right about CF’s “military operations” (if you can call them that) being completely on hold during the five year gap because Edelgard was so obsessed with finding Byleth. It definitely makes sense to go that route -- but I also think it makes sense for Byleth to try taking the risk. After all, it wasn’t just Edelgard he left behind: it was all of the Black Eagles, including the most vulnerable (Dorothea, Petra, Bernadetta, and Ferdinand because you can’t tell me that the sunshine boy wouldn’t be vulnerable to disillusionment and despair in Edelgard’s Empire). It might be worth it for the chance of meeting them again, especially since they’d agreed to meet at Garreg Mach, a territory still held by the Knights of Seiros: even if Edelgard does try to come on the chance of meeting him, she won’t be able to bring her full military might to bear in bringing Byleth in, since she needs to keep a low profile or else risk capture herself. The risk to reward ratio is pretty compelling.

As for the Sword of the Creator...honestly, that’s a really tough call. On the one hand, yeah, carrying that around publicly is asking to get caught, and it would be infinitely safer if Byleth got rid of it one way or another...but on the other, it is the best option he has to keep himself safe, since it can extend and take down fleeing enemies. Letting one Imperial soldier escape with news of the encounter is just as damning as the rumor mill whispering about sighting the Sword of the Creator. It might make sense, then, that Byleth has two weapons: one he visibly wears when going into inhabited areas or traveling on any well-traveled roads, something common that won’t stand out like a regular iron sword; and the Sword of the Creator, which either stays behind at his camp (possibly buried to conceal it while he’s gone) or gets heavily wrapped to conceal its shape and packed with his other supplies when he needs to move to a new location and can’t completely avoid going through open areas. Unfortunately there really isn’t a single ideal situation with the Sword, but that might give him the most flexibility and the best overall defense.

#answered #anonymous #fire emblem: three houses #the sword of the creator aspect is so fascinating honestly #but i'm super excited about the possible monastery meet-up #because having it in a knights of seiros-controlled garreg mach???#groundbreaking #onyx sun

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buzzdixonwriter · 3 years

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TROTS AND BONNIE Review

Trigger Warning: This will review a work that often addresses human sexuality, emotional / physical / sexual abuse, and adolescents’ views on same. Be advised.

. . .

When I was growing up in the 1950s and early 1960s, two old comic strips that remained popular were J. R. Williams’ Out Our Way and Gene Ahern’s Our Boarding House, both started in the 1920s and, from their daily panels and Sunday pages, never moving out of that decade. My favorite cartoons on local kid shows were Fleischer Brothers Betty Boop and Popeye cartoons, many of which took place in urban / suburban settings heavily reflective of 1920s and 1930s America.

So when I first encountered Shary Flenniken’s Trots And Bonnie I instantly recognized the flavor and style of the strips.

The content, on the other hand, came straight out of her underground comix pedigree, with the refreshing point of view of the female gaze instead of the admittedly too often misogynistic male cartoonists of the milieu.

Flenniken is one of the best artists and writers to come from the underground era, displaying a confident early mastery of the form (don’t listen to her protestations she really wasn’t good at the start of her career; she clearly ranked among the finest of the underground comix artists).

But the sweet and innocent look of Trots And Bonnie belies the frank and frequently shocking honesty of Flenniken’s work.

As cartoonist Emily Flake notes in her introduction, “that’s the terrible power of children, the monstrous innocence that makes them capable of anything, a state of being we fatuously describe as ‘pure.’”

Innocence is not synonymous with purity in the world of Trots And Bonnie because the cast lack the moral and cultural filters we acquire as adults. They are reporting on reality as they see it, and as with all children (and the elderly, and drunks) there’s nothing to stop them from commenting on the foibles of hypocrisy of humanity, nor is there a single iota of shame to hold back their expression.

And when you add the impact of puberty to that mix, holy &#@%, you have no room left for pretense or propriety.

Hold on to your hats, folks, ‘cuz it’s gonna be one helluva ride.

One helluva ride…and a hilarious one, too.

If modern audiences can get past the admittedly often shocking visuals and situations, they’ll find some of the most brilliant coming-of-age comedy ever penned.

The truth is always an absolute defense, and Trots And Bonnie dishes it out lavishly. Brava to Shary Flenniken for having the courage (or honesty, of lack of filter; take your pick) to pen it, to the original underground comix and National Lampoon to publish it, and to new York Review Comics to bring almost all of it back (Flenniken herself opted to withhold a few strips that she feels might be construed now as hurtful or insulting).

Flenniken is the daughter of a military family, growing up in a variety of climes and places before her father retired in the Seattle area.

She reached adolescence and young adulthood during the hippie era, and the earliest strips cast a fond eye back on that time.

An original member of the infamous Air Pirates crew, she and fellow underground comix artists gained immediate recognition skewering Disney icons. Air Pirates Funnies and Paul Kassner’s The Realist generated no small amount of tsuris for the House of Mouse in the late 1960s / early 1970s but The Realist, true to its name, possessed to good sense to adhere to the unofficial so-called “one-time fair use parody” rule while the Air Pirates pressed their luck with Air Pirates Funnies #2, resulting in the Disney legal department descending on them like an anvil dropped from orbit.

Crawling away from the wreckage, Flenniken kept contributing to a number of underground venues, creating the first Trots and Bonnie strip for the 1971 underground comix Merton Of The Movement.

Trots and Bonnie (soon joined by Pepsi, a beguilingly sweet looking elfin-like child with the heart of Germaine Greer, the reproductive organs of Karen Finley, and the mouth of an interstate trucker) popped up in several single page strips and short stories until NatLamp recruited Flenniken in 1972 to be a regular contributor and (briefly) an editor.

NatLamp proved to be the perfect venue for Flenniken and her characters because the magazine possessed the economic mojo and suicidal “Who gives a &#@%?” attitude to publish Trots And Bonnie while at the same time providing a perfect audience of proto-incels who desperately needed some consciousness raising, especially if said consciousness raising arrived in the form of a kick in the groin.

Trots And Bonnie’s tenure at NatLamp lasted slightly more than two decades, but a big hunk of that era saw the Reagan culture wars raging, not to mention much of the country becoming obsessed with a literal modern day witch hunt in the infamous Satanic panic (an apt subject for Flenniken’s characters, but one she wisely avoided, thus following the old military adage, “Never draw fire on your own position.”).

The already edgy material in both NatLamp in general and Trots And Bonnie in particular threatened to be perceived as too edgy by law enforcement, legislators, and judicial authorities who seemed either unwilling or incapable of distinguishing between photographs and video of actual sexual assaults and rapes committed against real children as opposed to crudely drawn Xerox copied mini-comics made by outsider artists with audiences that might possibly number in the dozens.

Flenniken’s willingness to honestly recall the turbulent emotions of early adolescence resulted in stories and strips where prepubescent kids engage in activities and discussions that would be acutely problematic if done today. Again, the utter lack of self-consciousness in Flenniken’s characters swerves her work away from the low grade smut ground out by many of her male contemporaries and flung open a window on how adolescent females perceived the world around them.

The stories are wildly transgressive, and like all transgressive art can only be understood in the context of their time and mores. Flenniken’s art carries a sweetness that leavens out the most horrendous situations (she gets astonishing comedic mileage off a story about a woman raped by a police officer, never once blaming or exploiting the victim but lambasting the culture and mindset that makes such a crime possible).

The fact these stories are told from a vibrant feminist / sex positive point of view makes them relevant to this day, and Flenniken’s ability to draw both truth and humor from dysfunctional families, emotional abuse, and drug use keeps them from being one-note exercises.

Most importantly, Flenniken comes across as strongly pro-child, even while honestly depicting her own characters’ failings and misconceptions.

She always brings a genuine emotional connection with her characters as adolescents, neither glorifying nor patronizing them.

One of the most notorious Trots And Bonnie strips finds Bonnie looking at herself in a mirror, fantasizing she’s famous actresses of the past.*

At the hands and brush of Norman Rockwell, this theme tries for poignant but lands in schmaltz, looking down on an anxious child studying her reflection in a mirror; in far too many bad novels by sub-par male writers, it’s borderline (and often not-so-borderline) pornography.

At the touch of Flenniken’s deft pen, it’s honest and sweet and shockingly frank but it never depicts Bonnie as a figment of the male imagination but as a character and personality all her own.

Flenniken has not done any new Trots And Bonnie strips since the last ones published in NatLamp in 1993.

To be honest, I think that’s a good thing.

The characters are of their particular time and cultural gestalt, it may not be possible to recapture that lightning in a new bottle, and rather than diminish the old, perhaps it best remains a perfect artefact of its era.

Mark Twain tried repeatedly but could never transport Tom Sawyer and Huck Finn out of antebellum Hannibal, and to use an example more contemporary to Flenniken’s work, the Fabulous Furry Freak Brothers resolutely thwart all efforts to move them out of San Francisco during the Summer of Love.

You can’t go home again, as Thomas Wolfe famously observed, but that only applies if you’ve successfully left home. At a certain point, if you haven’t moved beyond your old confines, you never will.

Flenniken’s honest frankness could have turned into a big crosshair on her back during the cultural wars, but to paraphrase John Lennon, life happened while she was making comix.

She married twice, divorced once, widowed the second time. While she never completely withdrew from professional illustration, she no longer sought out the high profile gigs.

Trots And Bonnie from New York Review Comics is the first extensive English language compilation of her strips and stories, a very handsomely produced volume designed by Norman Hathaway.

The strips are meticulously presented, making it possible to enjoy Flenniken’s fine line work and exquisite character depictions in greater detail than every before. It’s a genuine delight, sure to thrill old time fans of the original strip and quite likely to win a new generation of admirers.

But brace yourselves, noobs, this ain’t your grandma’s Betty Boop…

* It should be noted that for all its apparent revolutionary newness, the counterculture of the 1960s and 1970s, the crucible that forged Flenniken’s point of view, also enthusiastically embraced the past. W. C. Fields and the Marx Brothers became cultural icons to a new generation, Betty Boop regained her old popularity, old movies were rediscovered and reimagined, African-American spirituals and blues sprang from new voices, obscure books and novels from earlier decades and centuries became the new cultural touchstones.

I’ve posted elsewhere on how the boomer generation enjoyed a unique conflation of new technology and old media to produce a brand new synthesis; there has been nothing like it since even with astonishing advances in technology. When old media is rediscovered and reinterpreted in this era, it too often tends to be in the form of irony, which mocks that which it cannot understand.

Give those old hippies their due -- they got the &#@%ing point!

#Shary Flenniken #Trots And Bonnie #New York Review Comics #comics #underground comix #Air Pirates #National Lampoon #NatLamp #cartooning #counterculture #hippies #1960s #1970s

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