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boxofbadaddiction · 4 years

Text

A Likely Story

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 9, 16 & 18

"They don't know that we know they know"

"DANGER!"

"What a small world./Yet I never run into Beyoncè"

"What'd you tell George?"

"Told him I had detention with Snape for setting off Dungbombs in his Second Years class."

"Hmm, very believable."

"That's because it's true."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"What'd you tell your mates?"

"Just said I was going for a walk."

"Guess that'll do. Remind me to give you some pointers on how to lie when we get back."

"Very funny."

Every word spoken echoed off the damp walls of the One Eyed Witch Passage as Fred and Y/n made their way through the dark tunnel. The only source of light being the soft glow emitting from the tips of their wands, allowing only enough visibility to see just infront of them as they walked.

The pair were currently sneaking from the Castle on a day which were not allocated for any Hogsmead Visitations. It were a school day. However, rather than sitting about the Castle grounds for the two free periods in their schedules, Fred had the brilliant idea of escaping the unbearable reign of Umbridge - even if only for a few hours, by taking a trip into town.

"You know they know, right?"

"Ahh, but they don't know that we know they know. Now do they?" Fred grinned as he shoved y/ns shoulder with his own playfully, before intertwining their cold fingers. "I fail to see how that matters" "makes it all the more fun." "Whatever makes you happy, Big Guy." "You mean, aside from you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at his cheesiness, but smiled nonetheless. Stopping abruptly from a harsh tug at her hand, one that had her being pulled flush against Fred - chest to chest.

Threading his wand between his fingers, he brought his other hand to the back of y/ns neck and kissed her deeply.

The kiss left her flushed, biting her lip to suppress a giddy smile which naturally only caused a smug grin to appear on the face of her partner.

Sensing how inflated his ego was becoming y/n stepped back, shoving his chest, "Hurry up and get me out of here, loverboy, I'm freezing."

This wasn't the first time the two had been in a situation such as this. They had been in a relationship for quite a few months now but were keeping it secret - for the most part anyway, but they knew the others were suspicious.

There were several reasons why they felt their relationship needed to remain secret. One being for the fact Y/n were a Slytherin. Whom for as long as anyone could remember had despised the Weasleys, and vice versa. The second, and most crucial reason was due to y/ns family. She was a Y/l/n. A family who, like the Malfoys and LeStrange, were blood purists and for that matter hated Muggles, Muggleborns and Blood Traitors alike. A trait not inherited by that of the y/l/ns only daughter. Y/n.

After overcoming the years of conditioning by her parents; painting the Weasleys, anyone alike and Muggleborns as the enemy or lessers, she'd surrounded herself with friends of all houses and blood-status.

She even discovered there to be a remarkable amount of similarities between herself and that of the Redheaded family. Soon enough finding herself regularly in comfortable conversation with the Twins during their shared classes, after years of the ridiculous feud between them buried itself in the past. It then naturally didn't take long for her to start falling for the older, louder, Twin.

Though people acknowledged she were different to her family the pair were still hesitant about the reaction they'd receive being together in public, so they thought it best to keep to themselves. Which lead to a lot of sneaking around. Hence todays secret date in Hogsmead.

A few moments later Fred and Y/n reached the trap door of Honeydukes Cellar. Fred was the one to check the coast were clear. Smiling as he watched the owners feet retreating up the basements staircase to the store above. Piece of Cauldron Cake he thought. They silently slipped through the shop, completely unnoticed.

Glad to finally have the freedom to be with one another openly the two let out relieved breaths upon being met with the chilly fresh air of Hogsmead.

They happily strolled throughout the streets hand-in-hand going about their usual routine. A quick stop to The Three Broomsticks for a couple Butterbeers then off to what they'd deemed as "their spot", a clearing by the forest over looking the Shrieking Shack where they regularly met of a weekend for lunch and much needed time together.

Fred was spinning his girlfriend as if dancing as they walked, smiling, laughing and unashamedly flirting loudly as they did so.

The two were in a world of their own as they rough housed in the soft snow, throwing handfuls at one another. Unfortunately, blissfully unaware of the approaching complication in their secret rendezvous.

"Well, well, well." Came a cold voice from behind them, one which sent chills down y/ns spine - she would know that voice anywhere. Lucius Malfoy.

The teenagers turned with identical deadpan expressions to the man before them. "What a small world." "And yet I never run into Beyoncè" y/n countered sarcastically, her tone bitter and harsh.

"Whatever would one make of this, Hmm? A y/l/n fraternising with a Weasley..." Luicus eyed Fred with distaste, as if it were unsettling to simply be in his presence.

Fred stood tall and firm in place; a murderous glare thrown towards the arrogant man as he grit his teeth.

"One?" Y/ns brow raised in question, her voice drawing Malfoys attention back to her. He simply nodded in response, causing the girl to scoff as realisation struck. An exasperated smile tugging at her lips whilst she spoke, "Right. Going to rat me out to Daddy for having a friend, Lucius?" "But of course not." He took a step closer to the couple, "for being outside the grounds of Hogwarts, accompanied by an irresponsible and perpetually reckless boy however..." y/n swallowed harshly, a wave of fear coursing through her veins as her confidence faltered.

"Well, one might say it were my responsibility to report your little...adventure today. My, I can't begin to imagine the misfortune one might be subjected to less the High Inquisitor learn of such a blatant disregard for school protocols. Those for the offenders...or the Headmaster for that matter."

Y/n was silently panicking at these words. Dumbledore has already been on thin ice with the Ministry recently. If anyone finds out, well...that'd be the end of him.

"Of course however, y/n, you would be forgiven on account of your-" "Father." "-innocence, clearly under the manipulation of this one, whom would naturally be expelled." Lucius lazily waved his hand towards Fred. "You don't even know which Weasley 'this one' is." Y/n snapped. "Unimportant. I imagine Delores will be thrilled at the opportunity of finally ridding both from the school. And as for Dumbledore-"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Malfoy." Fred finally spoke. Stepping forward to stand slightly infront of y/n protectively. His jaw and fists were clenched in rage, knuckles turning ghostly white under the strain in his grip. "Am I?" "Yes. To snitch on us you'd first need proof we were here in the first place." "You Weasleys truly are daft. I believe I have all the 'proof' I'll be needing. Given the fact you are stood right here before me, far from the saftey of the school grounds." "Are we?" Fred subtly reached for y/ns hand as he spoke, holding her palm tight behind his back, eyes staring directly into Malfoys challenging his dominance.

"Because I'm sure if you were to go to the Castle right now; I could be found with my brother and y/n here...undoubtedly studying in the Library." "Is that so?" Lucius had a rather done and ugly expression on his face at Freds antics, whom began smiling wickedly. Uttering a simple "yep." In response.

Their stare-off was broken as Fred glanced over Malfoys shoulder, raising his free arm to wave he greeted loudly, "Hello, Hagrid!" This causing the blonde man to turn in his direction. That was Fred's cue. Taking advantage of the moment and apparating the pair to the passage of the Shrieking Shack.

They took off running, hand-in-hand as they manoeuvred the winding tunnel to the school. Sprinting so quickly that even the Whomping Willow were too slow to react to their sudden appearance as they breached the grounds.

As they reached the, thankfully empty, courtyard they finally allowed themselves the opportunity to breathe and dropped the hold of one anothers hand. Fred swallowed thickly to ease the burning in his throat, "you have to-" "yeah. And you need to-" "yeah."

Exhausted and amused chuckles fell from their lips at the understanding shared between them. Placing one final, frantic, kiss to one anothers lips as goodbye they held each other close not wanting to let go. One of y/ns hands gripped Freds hair tightly whilst the other bunched in the fabric of his shirts collar. Both his hands placed securely on her waist. Y/n whines, knowing he won't be able to break the kiss himself, focusing all her strength she pushed from his chest, "Go" she whispered. Sighing frustratedly from the loss of his lips on hers he nods in agreement before both begin running in opposite directions.

Now thankful he had such a large family Fred was quickly successful in finding a family member to cling himself to. Barrelling down the corridor to where Ron and Harry were walking and conversing over whatever, with their backs to him. Overestimating the force of his current momentum he collided forcefully with the boys shoulders in attempt to steady himself, nearly toppling all three.

"What's your problem!?" Ron snapped angrily. "DANGER!" Fred whisper yelled, very out of breath. The scene brought a rather wide smile to Harrys face, watching as the Twin clutched his side painfully and tried to speak. "If-If anyone asks. I've been here the whole-WHOLE time. Okay!?" He was gesturing wildly between the three of them as he spoke, appearing desperate.

"Oh yeah? And what's in it for us?" Ron asked cockily. "For you, little Brother..." "anything?" He smiled smugly, earning a clap on the shoulder from his flustered older brother. "Not quite, Ronniekins."

Fred's eyes turned dark as he straightened himself, grip tightening on Rons shoulder like a vice. "Cover for me this time and you get to live another day." Ron was wincing at the pain being inflicted by the hold on his shoulder, "You-you can't do anything to me." Harry looked sceptical at this, it was Fred Weasley afterall.

"Can't I? It's a big Castle, Ronnie. Accidents happen." Fred's stare hadn't left Ron's eyes the whole time he spoke. A smirk forming on his face as if taking joy in the countless possibilities he had playing on his mind.

Noticing the poorly restrained fear spreading through his brother as Ron gulped thickly he lightened his grip knowing he's won.

"F-fine. Doesn't bother me anyway. Not like it's a huge inconvenience is it, Harry?" Ron tried to play the moment off cooly, though the panic was evident on his voice. "Not at all" Harry laughed but suddenly his expression soured. Looking forward to the entrance of the hall.

"Is that...Lucius?" The Weasleys heads turned to see the pale face of Malfoy striding towards them accompanied by Delores and...oh God. Freds blood ran cold.

"It is, and Titus Y/l/n! What are they doing here?" Ron growled.

"Danger. Danger. Danger." Fred mumbled from the side of his mouth, avoiding eye contact and looking quite nervous, though he played it off much better than his brother had. The boys looked up to him "You didn't..." they spat. Fred cleared his throat as a warning, and it worked just as well as a confession in Harry and Rons opinion, as the three adults approached.

"Potter." "Malfoy."

"Weasley." "Y/l/n."

"Eh-hem" the teens rolled their eyes. "Professor?"

"Tell me, Mr Weasley" she began, looking straight to Fred, "can you account for your whereabouts this afternoon?" "With these two."

"Where's your Twin?" Lucius rudely interrupted. "Haven't the foggiest. Since, ya know...I'm not with him." "It is strange" Umbridge began, "that you are without your Twin, seeing as how you are rarely to find one without the other." She giggled sickly. "Yeah, rarely. But not never."

At his words Lucius' expression became proud and more confident, turning to Delores now to speak. "He's the one. I'm sure of it." "The one what?"

"Enough of this. My daughter, where is she?" Titus interjects. "What...y/n? Stuffed if I know. Don't fancy myself much a snake charmer. What's with the interrogation?"

"Well it would seem, Mr Malfoy here has a rather interesting story to share on the topic of two seventh years strolling about Hogsmead not even an hour ago. A Weasley and-"

"My daughter. Where is she!?"

"I've already told you. I don't know!" Titus began advancing on Fred, rage burning clear in his eyes, "I'm warning you, Weasley. If you've in anyway involved yourself with y/n I will-"

"Dad?" A soft voice called from the end of the corridor. "Y/n." The girl looked around at the gathered group confusedly before stepping between Fred, Harry and Ron to embrace her Father in a quick greeting. "What are you doing here?" "Where have you been?" "Where-what? I've been-" "the Library perhaps?" Lucius raised a mocking brow. "What? No I-I was taking a walk by the Lake." "A likely story."

"Lucius here, tells me you were in Hogsmead with this boy." Titus gestures to Fred a venom held behind his voice.

Y/n looks over Fred with visible disgust, whilst he smiles coldly back. "Why on Earth would I ever surround myself with the likes of them?" She spits. Looking back to her Father as if highly insulted by his accusation.

Titus observes the interaction carefully as if watching for any weakness in their story. But he finds none. His expression softens as he turns back to his daughter completely. "I apologise, y/n/n. Lucius was obviously mistaken." He glares back over his shoulder to the blonde man who scoffs in response. "I would nev-" "Save it, Lucius." Titus growls. "But, Titus if I may, why would Mr Malfoy report this if it were not-" "you may not." The girls father puts an end to Umbridges interruption as she'd attempted to defend the other man. "I trust my daughter to know of the correct company to keep. Lucius was obviously mistaken and has by extension wasted my time."

Thankfully the adults were too busy bickering for anyone to notice the small smiles that threaten to break onto the faces of the gathered teenagers.

"I'm sorry, dear. I must be leaving now and I hope your studies are going well." "They are Dad, I'll write you and Mum tonight to fill you in on everything. Just as I always do." Y/n smiled. Titus pulled his daughter in for a final hug, placing a soft kiss to her forehead before turning to leave, with a last menacing glare to Delores and Lucius he walked away.

"Well. That will be all, the four of you off to your Common rooms immediately to prepare for dinner. Mr Malfoy if you'd follow me I'll escort you from the Castle." Umbridge spoke.

Harry and Ron couldn't contain their giggles at the insulted reaction shown by Malfoy as he turned to leave.

Lucius took one final look over his shoulder to the teens, who had not moved, being met with the taunting smile and small wave of y/n with Fred now standing confidently beside her.

Once finally out of sight the couple fell into hysterics, Fred wrapping an arm around y/ns shoulder as they laughed.

"What the bloody hell did you two do!?" Ron asked through a wide grin. "Just took a quick trip into town that's all..." "Safe to say our secrets out, Freddie." Y/n whispered to him as she noted all the students watching the group, paying particular attention to Freds arm around her. "Secret? You kidding! You two are the most obvious people on the planet!" Harry quipped. "George has been taking bets on how long it'll take for you two to just come out and admit it." "I know." Spoke Fred, "I had Colin Creevey place 7 Sickles on it for me." "You bet on us!?" "The odds were on my side! But thanks to Malfoy date-crashing I'm out of it now."

"About that, how did you two get back here so fast?" Ron questions.

"We apparated to The Shack then hauled ass." Y/n answered. "The pros of being 17" Fred winked, pulling y/n back into his chest, resting his chin atop her head. As his arms wrapped around her she nestled herself comfortably within his embrace with a lovestruck smile.

"Right well, as amusing as that was, this-" Ron guestured to the couple, "is gonna turn my stomach. And I'm starving so, Harry, coming to get ready for dinner?" the bluntness causing his best friend to roll his eyes with a chuckle. "Yeah alright. And I'll be sure to tell George all about this if we run into him along the way." Harry joked, waving to the couple as they walked towards the Gryffindor common room.

They stood there for a moment, contently basking in each others warmth before y/n turned in place to face her boyfriend with a cheekily grin. "So, still think I need tips on how to lie?" Fred clicks his jaw as he pretends to be deep in thought. Nodding slowly as he answers, "yeah, yep. Absolutely." "I just successfully dooped not only my Father but Delores fucking Umbridge! Okay? I deserve a frickin' gold star."

Fred can't help but laugh at her comment. "Alright, first of all. 'Dooped'? That is the least cool thing you've ever said. Secondly, you're so cute when you get all sassy. And unfortunately for you, I'm fresh out of gold stars...but I'll happily reward you for that semi-decent performance." Y/ns mouth falls open at the last words, "semi-decent!?" Fred nods innocently, "You sir, are a twat!" She states firmly as she pushes out of his arms making the redhead laugh loudly.

Taking a strong grip to her wrist as she begins to walk away he pulls her back to him, wrapping an arm around her waist as the other fists the hair at the nape of her neck pulling her lips into his.

The kiss is hard and passionate, as if he's trying to make up for their spoiled date in this one moment. And it's working, fireworks erupt within y/ns chest as goosebumps spread over her skin and she can't help the soft moans that sound from her throat. It's perfect.

Fred smiles as he rests his forehead against hers, feeling like he's drunk an entire Cauldron of love potion. "You were brilliant today, love." He whispers. "Fred, that kiss was...wow." he hums in response. "I still want the star though." she goads making him roll his eyes and throw his head back in exasperation. She can feel the silent laughter radiate through his body as she holds him close bringing her head to rest against his chest.

Freds arms hold y/n tighter as he lets out a comfortable sigh, placing his head atop of hers. Eyes softly closing in complete bliss. As fun as all the sneaking around was he could get used to this. Holding her when, where and for as long as he wants? To Fred, that sounds exactly like Heaven.

#fred weasley x reader #f.r.i.e.n.d.s #F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List #hp imagine #hp fanfiction #harry potter #george weasley #hp #fred weasley #harry potter fanfiction #weasley twins #harry potter imagine #ron weasley #Lucius Malfoy #Delores Umbridge

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cherrybracelets · 4 years

Text

Freefall

aaron hotchner x fem!reader

word count: 15.3k | warnings: smut!!!! alcohol mention, murder mention, rape mention, lots of typical cm violence!

inspired by: its called freefall by rainbow kitten surprise (i highly recommend listening to this song before or during reading!)

Anyway, you say you’re too busy saving everybody else to save yourself / And you don’t want no help, oh well / That’s the story to tell

ok i have put my blood sweat and tears in this lamfkndksjfj this has been my wip for almost 3 weeks this is my entry for @veraiconcos fic challenge!! her prompt fit so perfectly with this fic so i am so excited to share it with you guys. this is by far my most challenging piece and the one i worked the longest on. i really hope you all love it, feedback is much appreciate. i am tagging some moots to signal boost this, i hope u dont mind

Aaron-

This woman killed my dad. They said you’d be able to help. Please find her.

Aaron ran his fingertips over the letter one more time, feeling the depth of the pen, the engravement of each letter into the crisp stationary. He reread the words for a thousandth time, wondering if this time he could discover who actually sent the letter. But unfortunately, just like the past times, there was nothing to indicate who the sender was. The only other thing in the picture was a photograph of a young woman, the person Aaron believed was the murderer. Her face was mostly covered, and he was almost certain the short black bob that sat on her head was a wig. There was nothing about the photo that would help identify her, but on the back of the photo was a date- May 7th 2020, and a city, Sante Fe, NM.

He continued to stare at it, hoping some new information would pop out at him this time. But there was nothing, and he knew if he wanted to find whoever was responsible for this crime, he would need to involve the team. Whoever sent this clearly only wanted Aaron involved, even addressing him personally as Aaron and not Agent Hotchner.. Who could this person be? And who sent him Aaron’s way?

“You’re here early,” JJ hesitated, walking through the doors of the BAU to begin her day.

“Yeah… I’ve got kind of a… thing?” Aaron stammered over his words, trying to decide how he should go about this.

“What’s going on, Hotch?”

“Come take a look at this. It was on my desk yesterday.” Hotch waved JJ over to him, holding the letter tightly in hands. He handed it to her hesitantly, still not feeling comfortable sharing with the rest of the team. It could be a prank, a practical joke, somebody just trying to waste his time. But how did it find it’s way onto his desk? Who would be messing with him like this?

“Was there an envelope?” JJ asked, staring at the words on the paper.

“Yes, addressed to me, but no return address. It seems like it was hand delivered.”

“The handwriting looks like a teenagers, how would he have made it all the way from New Mexico?”

“Maybe somebody else delivered it?”

Aaron and JJ’s attention was quickly taken away when Spencer and Derek walked through the doors, their loud voices cracking through the quiet air of the BAU. They were arguing about something pointless, as they usually did. Aaron felt his head throbbing as the day started to begin, unsure of how much longer he’d be able to make it without some strong coffee.

“JJ, keep this between us for now. I’ll bring it to Garcia, see if she can find anything worth investigating. I don’t want to bring it to the team unless I’m sure we have a case.”

“Understood.” JJ smiled kindly at him, a look he was all too familiar with. Ever since Haley died, it felt like everyone was constantly walking on eggshells around him. Everyone felt bad, and they did whatever he asked without complaint. From a boss standpoint, it was nice, not having to argue your decisions to your team. But, they were more than his team. They were his friends, and he felt he lost them the same day he lost Haley.

Aaron greeted Spencer and Derek quickly, not wanting to get pulled into whatever discussion they were having. He was holding onto the letter tightly, afraid of losing it. He wasn’t sure what it was, but he just had a feeling about it. Like he had stumbled onto something huge, and whatever Garcia could find out would lead them to something unbelievable.

“Hey, Garcia. Any chance I could have you work on something… private, for now?” Aaron stood in the doorway of her office, all of the bright screens making him wince. His headache was only getting worse as the day went on.

“Of course, sir. Is everything okay?” She looked worried, for sure hoping that whatever secret task she was performing for him had nothing to do with Haley. Although he knew she would never say anything, he could tell she was worried about him.

“I need you to check deaths in Santa Fe, NM from May 5th - May 9th. Specifically look for men with teenage sons.”

“Just homicides?”

“No, any deaths. And see if you find anything suspicious.”

“Alright…” Penelope said, furrowing her brows in confusion. “It might take a bit. Santa Fe’s a big city.”

“Just get back to me when you can, Garcia.” Aaron smiled slightly at the technical analyst, before leaving quietly. His head was begging him for caffeine, or Advil, or a drink, even though it was barely 9 in the morning.

He walked quietly back to his office, not talking to any of his team, closing the door behind him as he got inside. There was a sick feeling in his stomach, most likely caused by the cigarette he snuck this morning on an empty stomach. He paced uncomfortably, dry swallowing an Advil he found in the back of his desk drawer. He knew it would take Garcia a while

to get his information, but he was feeling exceptionally frustrated and impatient. He started to walk towards the door, feeling the need to to pester his analyst to work quicker, but as he opened it, JJ stood pleasantly in the door.

“We got a case, boss,” she smiled, waving an envelope in the air.

“Alright, let’s get to the conference room.” Aaron closed the door to office, following his Agent into the annex. He felt sick as he took his seat, not ready for whatever horror was about to be presented. Some days he felt like giving up, like throwing in the towel. He has given this job everything he had, and what did he get in return?

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Aaron and the team left an hour later for their newest destination, solving the case within 3 days. They were headed back to DC on the jet when he got a call from Garcia. It was rare she would call him personally if they were not working a case, so he knew it must’ve been about the letter. He waited a moment before answering, anxious about what her news could be. What if she found nothing, and this was the end of the line?

“Hello, sir. I wanted to call as soon as I could.” She sounded nervous, a tone of confusion in her voice.

“What’s going on, Garcia?”

“Well, it’s about the letter. I found something… interesting.”

“Do you think we could have a case?”

“It’s a high possibility, sir.”

“Alright. Can you patch into the computer and share with the team. I’d like to bring them in on this as well.”

“Sounds good, see you in a moment.”

Aaron hung the phone up, walking back to the main part of the jet and back to the rest of the team. They were spread out, all enjoying the calming feeling of a solved case. Spencer and JJ were sleeping, Emily and Derek both with headphones in and Rossi reading a book. He hated to bother them, hated to disturb their peace they all deserved. But that was the job- there was no peace. They all had to endure constant chaos so that innocent people didn’t have to.

Aaron turned on the lights of the jet, alarming his team and causing several groans of frustration.

“What’s going on, Hotch?” Emily asked in desperation, her eyes squinting as they adjusted to the light.

“I’m sorry to bother everyone, but I think we might have a new case.” Aaron looked around the room, slowly watching the faces of his friends change from their relaxed state to the intensity of a profiler.

“Is this about… the thing from a few days ago?” JJ asked quietly, not wanting to bring it up if it wasn’t the case.

“The letter, yes.”

“Hello, my sleepy friends. I am sorry to bother you, but I have stumbled across something interesting that I believe requires your attention. Uh, Hotch… would you like to…” she trailed off, looking around for her superior to explain how they ended up here.

“I received a letter a few days ago… someone asking us to look into the death of their father. It was anonymous, there was a picture along with it but it still wasn’t enough to do much on my own. So, I handed over what I had to Garcia and…” Aaron trailed off, realizing now he hadn’t even asked Penelope what she got before bringing the rest of the team in.

“I guess that’s where I come in. So, as per our humble leader, I searched for deaths of men on the given dates with teenage sons, and as I expected, that list was quite large.”

“Why teenage sons?” Derek asked, still trying to fill in the gaps of information.

“The letter was clearly written by a young boy, no older than 16 was my guess,” JJ added, explaining her conclusion to the team.

“Garcia, were you able to narrow down the list?” Aaron asked, desperately wanting to know what she found.

“Well, I got rid of anyone whose death was expected. People who were sick or in the hospital, with underlying medical conditions, et cetera et cetera. Once we narrowed it down to deaths that were true accidents, I had a list of three.”

“How do we know this isn’t just a prank?” Rossi asked. It was a fair question, a question he frequently asked himself as well.

“Ah, well, if it was a prank I wouldn’t have found out what I did…”

“That looks like the face of someone who’s about to tell me I’m not going home tonight,” Derek laughed, turning to Emily, who rolled her eyes.

“Unfortunately it does seem like there’s a case here. One of the men that I flagged as ‘Could Be A Murder Victim’ has a… bad past.” One thing that Aaron always admired about Penelope is how she always managed to speak with such lightness, no matter how heavy the content of her words. “42-year old Derek Hood was killed on May 7th, ruled as an accidental drug overdose. There was some chatter that it may have been suicide, but there was no note and the family insisted he wouldn’t have killed himself.”

“So what makes you think it was murder?” Spencer asked.

“Alright, get this. Our man Jason was on trial two years ago for the rape of three different 16 year old girls. It was declared a mistrial, unfortunately, after all three of the girls refused to testify at his trial.”

“Is it possible he threatened them? This could be a revenge killing, if that was the case,” Emily added.

“Ah, I thought that too, my friend. But all three of the girls are now in college and far, far away from Sante Fe. So, that was kind of a dead end.”

“What about the parents?” Aaron questioned.

“We think alike, sir. All three of their families still reside in Santa Fe, and three weeks before Jason’s death, all three couples withdrew $15,000 cash from their banks. One family stated it was for a pool, the other for a car, and the last family stated it was for bathroom renovations.”

“Were any of those projects completed, Garcia?”

“To the best of my knowledge, no.”

“So this is what I think it is, then,” Rossi asked, looking up towards Aaron for confirmation.

“It’s most likely a hitman, yes.” Aaron looked around at his team, a feeling of worry drowning him. Hitmen were exceptionally dangerous, and so were the routes to get to them. It was an extremely well protected underground business, and the chances of catching one successfully, with no one hurt, were very slim.

“Wait, but our unsub is a woman. The photo very clearly showed a female, and even in the letter, the boy addresses her as ‘This woman.’”

“Could we see the picture, Garcia?” Aaron asked, staring at the monitor as he awaited the photo.

“Maybe they’re dressing as a woman to distract any possible witnesses?” Rossi added. The photo then popped up on the monitor, the same hidden person that was ingrained in Aaron’s brain. He couldn’t forget her, her shielded face, cheap wig, perfect body…

“That is definitely a woman, guys. You can’t fake that body…” Derek laughed, causing a wave of eye rolls and a slight shove of disgust from Emily.

“A female hitman… that is exceptionally rare.”

“Maybe she’s killing for justice? I mean, Jason was a piece of shit. And he somehow got away with his crimes, maybe this is punishment,” Derek added, always the first to try to come up with some sort of explanation.

“Why would she charge the parents almost fifty grand, though? That clearly makes it about money,” Emily rebutted.

“Garcia, is there any way we can find out who they gave that money too?” Aaron asked, hoping for a quick and easy answer, but he knew nothing was easy at this job.

“Since they took it out in cash, there’s no way to trace it, sir.”

“We’ll need to talk to the parents.”

“They won’t say anything, you know how that goes,” JJ said.

“We’ll target one of them, whichever is the most unstable. Promise them immunity. That usually works in situations like this.” Aaron looked at the team, noticing how tired they were. He knew how bad they needed to go home, sleep in their own beds, wash their hair with something other than hotel shampoo. But this was big, he could feel it. And they probably did, as well. It was their life, they were all aware of how crazy this career path could be. But, just because he knew that, it didn't make it any easier on Aaron when he had to push them to their limit. “We need to turn the plane around to Santa Fe. If this person is local, it’s best that we’re on the scene.”

“Can we at least stop home so I can get some new clothes?” JJ groaned, looking at the team in desperation for support.

“Fine. Can we be back in the air in two hours?”

“We can make that work,” Spencer agreed.

“Alright. Thanks, guys.”

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Santa Fe was hot. The kind of hot that made it impossible to breathe, and your clothes felt like they had melted into your skin. Aaron could feel his skin on fire, burning hotter and hotter as he stood under the desert sun. Emily stood next to him, glistening in a thin layer of sweat. The two of them stared closely at a house across the street, taking in every detail.

“You ready?” Emily asked, her voice cracking through the quiet air like a whip.

“Uh… yeah,” Aaron stuttered, his brain feeling off. He had a feeling whoever this person was, she wasn’t in Sante Fe. This was a big operation that they had stumbled upon, and he had a bad feeling about the way it would end up.

Aaron followed Emily to the door, feeling exceptionally guilty as they entered the front yard of a family whose lives had been destroyed- and all they were there to do was destroy them further. He knew they only did what they did to avenge their daughter- and he understood. Sometimes he wondered if he should’ve done the same thing with Foyet.

“Are you alright, Hotch? I don’t mean to overstep, but you don’t seem like yourself,” Emily questioned, stopping in her tracks before they made their presence known to the family.

“Just have a bad feeling about this one, I guess,” he responded, rubbing his head with his thumb and forefinger. “Let’s get this over with…”

“Aye aye, sir.”

The two of them walked to the front door of the small house, knocking slightly quietly on the white painted wood of the door. An older man opened the door, immediately tensing up as he saw the two of them. They looked like Agents- or at the very least, local detectives, and the man was pretty quick to understand why they were there.

“Are you Bradley Mathis?” Emily asked, standing a few inches in front of Aaron, clearly trying to take the lead on this. It was probably for the best, since his head was not on right today. In all honesty, his head hadn’t been on right since Foyet.

“Who are you?” Bradley asked defensively, crossing his arms across his chest and backing away from the door.

“Mr. Mathis, I want to assure you that if you cooperate with us, there will be no trouble. We understand you did everything to protect your daughter, and we aren’t looking for trouble. We just want to find the person who did this for you.” As Aaron spoke, he realized how scary this must be for him. His daughter was brutally attacked, they found the man that hurt her, and then he threatened her into silence so he could walk free. If it had happened to Aaron’s kid, he would’ve killed the son of a bitch with his own bare hands.

“You promise me nothing will happen to me?” He asked defensively, his eyes darting nervously across the room.

“I never met her, okay. I swear,” he responded in relief, as if he’d been waiting for the moment he could finally tell somebody. It was exhausting caring around those kinds of secrets. “I got her info from a friend. You go to the website, submit your claim, and she’ll send an assistant out to decide if she’ll take you on as a client. If she decides to help you, you’ll give half the money up front, and half upon proof of… death,” he whispered, closing his eyes as he spoke the words.

“That’s pretty standard practice for what she is…” Emily added.

“How did you find her website?” Aaron asked, wanting to leave this man in peace as quickly as possible.

“There’s some… tricks to finding her. Give me one second,” he said, turning around quickly and darting to another room. Emily reached for her gun defensively, but Aaron put a hand on her shoulder and shook his head.

“He won’t run.”

“How do you know? He has every reason to dart.”

“I just know. He’ll be back. Trust me.” Aaron looked to his Agent, kindly suggesting but also ordering her to relax. She nodded, crossing her arms as the pair waited for Bradley. As Aaron suspected, he came back a few minutes later with a beat up piece of paper.

“Someone I know from the support group gave me this. It’s how to contact her.” He handed them a brochure that was in pretty bad shape, but still legible enough to understand where to go. From the outside, it looked like a brochure for a dental surgery. But there were certain words highlighted, most likely by whoever gave Bradley this in the first place. It mapped out clear instructions on how to contact this mystery vigilante.

“That’s all I know. I swear.”

“I believe you,” Aaron responded, noticining the calmness flooding over Bradley’s face as Aaron spoke. “You can never tell anybody this, do you understand?”

Bradley nodded, his mouth glued shut as the reality of the situation finally weighed on him. He noticed the guns holstered to Emily and Aaron’s hips, and quickly shut the door, no goodbye’s needed.

“If she’s sending people to meet potential clients before she meets them, she isn’t local,” Emily put together, shaking her head in shock as the pair walked back to their car.

“No, she’s not. Which means we need to get back on the plane ASAP. Send this over to Garcia, I’ll call the team and tell them to meet us back at the jet.”

“Sounds good.”

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“Hello, angels. Are you ready for all the answers to your prayers?” Garcia’s voice popped through the stiff air of the jet, breaking through the harsh waters like a ray of sunshine.

“Were you able to find her, Garcia?”

“Of course, sir. Our girl is fancy. You need five grand upfront just to meet with her. Her website looks like it was designed for a five star hotel. She is legit.”

“Can we actually find her, Penelope?” Aaron had raised his voice slightly, frustration starting to set in. He just wanted this to be over, he wanted to bring her in and end this.

“Yes, yes. Sorry. Our girl goes by the name Ananke.”

“That’s not very intimidating,” Derek laughed, shaking his head as he sat back in his chair.

“Well, kind of. Ananke is a greek goddess, specifically known as one of the most powerful deity’s to control fate and circumstance. It’s pretty fitting, giving what she does.”

“The only way to meet her is to submit an appointment request, which is easier said than done. She has a legit system, requires a birth certificate, social security number, and a license or passport.”

“And five G’s,” JJ added.

“Can we create fake documents and submit them? Maybe have someone undercover go meet her.”

“I’ll do it. This has been my case from the beginning, I’d like to end it as well,” Aaron said, assuring his team he would finish this.

“I can get everything made up and submitted before you land.”

“Is there any way to figure out where she’s located?”

“Unfortunately not at the moment. I am still digging though, it’s possible I missed something.”

“Thanks, Garcia. We’ll see you soon.”

The team made some more small talk after that, realizing there wasn’t much they could do unless they had a location. Aaron’s head was beginning to throb again, absolute exhaustion overcoming him as he sat down and let himself relax for the first time in days. He missed Jack, he missed the comfort of his own bed, the smell of his cheap laundry detergent. He realized he was digging his nails into his palms, his flesh barely intact as he released his tension.

The rest of his team had broken up into their own conversations, ignoring the crumbling mess that was Aaron Hotchner. He walked to the bathroom quietly, snooping through the cabinets and finding a small bottle of vodka. He downed it quickly, letting the liquor burn the back of his throat and take his mind off of everything else. Even if it was for a moment, the distraction was welcomed, and almost necessary for him to keep going.

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It was two full days- almost forty eight hours exactly- when they finally heard back from Ananke. She had agreed to meet with ‘Zachary Wilson’ who was looking for revenge against the drunk driver that killed his wife. And to the whole team’s surprise, it appeared that she was located in DC. Ananke herself said she would meet him, stating that she was ‘in the area’.

The address she gave them appeared to be a popular nightclub in college town, one that Aaron had unfortunately been dragged to on multiple occasions. The team agreed that Aaron should meet her alone, the team standing outside to come in if necessary. She wanted to meet him on a Friday night, which meant the place would be flooded with innocent civilians. It was safest if they stayed out of it, at first.

By the time Friday rolled around, Aaron had barely eaten in days. He was staying alive on coffee, tylenol, and mini bottles of vodka he could keep in his pockets. Oh, and the occasional cigarette was a necessity as well. He had waited anxiously for what felt like weeks to meet her. This case had been weighing on him since the moment he received that letter, and he wanted it to be over. He wanted the anxiety and the chaos to be over. But, once they solved this one, there would just be another after, and the cycle of chaos and anxiety begins all over again.

“I hope you know you can't dress like that,” JJ said, teasing Aaron with a light shove as she walked past him.

“Why?”

“It’s… a business suit, Hotch. And you're going to a nightclub. It screams Fed.”

Aaron looked down at himself, realizing JJ was right. His vibes screamed ‘Cop’, and that was exactly what he did not want.

“Don’t worry, sir. I have something you can borrow from my go bag,” Derek suggested.

“Hotch in Derek’s clothes? That’s something I’ll pay good money to see,” Emily laughed, JJ giggling alongside her as Derek rolled his eyes and threw clothes at the two of them.

“You think these will work?” Derek asked the girls, not bothering with Aaron’s opinion.

“Oh, it’s perfect. Hotch will love these,” they laughed, neatly folding the clothes and handing them to Aaron. He walked away in silence, heading towards his office so he could change. The clothes weren’t a perfect fit, but they were better than his suit. The shirt was way too tight, with a v-neck that was way too deep. His arms felt like they would rip right through the cheap cotton, and his ass felt like it was going to bust straight out of the denim.

He began to walk out of the office quietly, hoping that the rest of the team wouldn’t be waiting for his fashion show. But as he figured, they were standing by patiently for him to show off in Derek’s way too tight clothes. As soon as he opened the door, a riot of laughs and cat calls surrounded him. He felt himself blushing, which was something he hadn’t done in a long time.

“Damn, Hotch. Where have you been hiding those arms?” Derek laughed, his voice echoing through Aarons head.

“I think we need to start casual Friday,” Spencer added, staring in awe at his boss.

“Alright, enough guys. This is a serious case, and I need everyone to be on their best behavior.”

“I’m not sure I can act right with you walking around like that,” Rossi joked, causing the rest of the team to burst out with laughter. Aaron just rolled his eyes, secretly appreciating the light that they all brought to his life.

“Alright, you guys ready to go?”

“All set. Let’s go catch a killer, sir.”

The ride to the club was a bit of a hike, a little over thirty minutes by the time they parked. They were split in two cars, seperated to cover both entrances. The plan was for him to go in and assess the situation, hoping he can get her out without harming any bystanders. If he needed backup, he had an alarm he could trigger that would alert the rest of the team to come in. It was a simple plan, one they had executed a thousand times in the past. But despite that, he felt extremely anxious.

“Are you ready, Aaron?” Rossi asked, raising his eyebrows in concern.

“Yeah, let’s get this over with. Stay alert, guys.” Aaron walked out of the car and to the entrance of the club, staring directly at the large bouncer standing in front of the door. He was given very specific instructions on what to see when he approached the man, ones that would deliver him directly to Ananke and avoid having to deal with the actual club.

“You on the list?” The bouncer asked as Aaron approached, not even bothering to look up from his clipboard.

“I’m here to see… A,” he whispered, looking around frantically to see if anyone else heard.

“You got your ID and confirmation number?” He asked, setting his clipboard down and staring intensely at Aaron.

“Uh, yeah. It’s 73491. And here’s my drivers license,” he responded, handing him the forged Virginia license of one Zachary Wilson.

“Zachary Wilson…” the man whispered, making Aaron sick to his stomach as he awaited the man to deny him and send him away, ruining his chances of finding her forever. “You’re gonna go in this door, right here,” he said, pointing towards a hidden and seemingly locked door to his right. “Take the stairs all the way up, knock on the door twice. She’ll be right with you.”

“Thank you,” he responded, relieved as he began to walk past the guard and towards his end goal.

“Oh, and Zachary,” the man added, causing Aaron to turn around in confusion.

“Remember: lei è dalla nostra parte,” he said, a smile creeping on his face as he spoke. Aaron recognized the language as Italian, but he couldn’t translate what he was saying. The bouncer turned around before Aaron had the chance to ask what he meant, but he figured it would just be better to move on and go directly to her.

He slowly opened the door, unsure of what he would find on the other side. To his surprise, it was only an exceptionally narrow staircase in a small hallway, leading directly to another gray door. The sound of fluorescent lights buzzed in the air, making Aaron dizzy as he walked up the steep steps. He remembered what the man said- knock twice. He also remembered the phrase in Italian, lei è dalla nostra parte. And when he finally got to the door, he began to unravel the words in his head. He knocked twice, replaying the words over and over. And when he finally heard the door click open, he understood what the man had meant. She is on our side.

“Zachary?” A man asked, opening the door slightly, only enough to peak out at him.

“Yes. I’m here to see-”

“Ananke. Of course,” he interrupted, swinging the door open and revealing an exceptionally beautiful and ornate room. Aaron walked in slowly, in a daze, his eyes not sure where to look as every piece of the room exceptionally thought out. There was a beautiful chandelier hanging from the ceiling, the light reflecting rainbows from the crystals.

“She will be with you shortly. Feel free to have a seat somewhere. Can I get you anything to drink?”

Aaron felt like he was at a hotel, the service impeccable as he sat down on the incredibly comfortable and probably very expensive couch. Most hit men he had met with did not present themselves like this. Whoever she was, she had a lot of money. In that moment, he wondered how many lives she had taken- how many people finally got what they deserved. And for a brief and frightening moment, he wondered if she was doing things right?

His thoughts were interrupted when she walked out. Not only did he lose his train of thought, but his breath was literally ripped from his chest. She was no longer covering her face, or wearing a wig. She had finally revealed herself to him, and he was in awe. She was absolutely stunning- beautiful to a level that made his head spin and his heart cramp up. He stood up instinctively, feeling the need to stand and greet her face to face. As she walked closer, he felt his throat getting tighter and tighter.

“Hello,” she spoke, her words floating through the air like a flower in the spring wind. “I’m Ananke.”

“Mhmm, he,” he stuttered, sticking his hand out to shake hers. “I’m…” he choked, unable to get his words out.

“Supervisory Special Agent Aaron Hotchner, right?” She smiled, and Aaron instinctively reached for his gun.

“Put your weapon away, Aaron. I’m no threat to you,” she instructed, and he complied. For some reason, he believed her. She had no intention of hurting him or anyone else in this building. He didn’t need his weapon.

“How do you know who I am?”

“The FBI has a list of Social Security numbers they regularly use for fake documents. It’s… a hard list to get your hands on. I’m lucky I have friends in high places.”

“So you knew who I was from the minute I submitted my application?” He was shocked, a sick feeling washing over him. Who was she? How was she consistently one step ahead of them?

“I’m sorry to break your sense of superiority, agent. It hurts when someone is smarter than you, doesn't it?” She tilted her head at him, a devilish grin pasted across her face. He wanted to hate her, he wanted to be angry, but all he could focus on was the fire burning inside of him and the hunger building itself, the craving overcoming her. Her skirt revealed a little too much of her thigh and her shirt was a little too low cut and the thought of her flesh on his rippled its way through his body.

“Well, we found you and I’m going to arrest you, so it doesn’t seem like you came out on top here,” he responded, avoiding eye contact as he tried to get his impure thoughts out of his head.

“Agent Hotchner, something you will quickly learn is that I only come on top.” She winked at him, pursuing her lips slightly and smiling. She held her wrists out to him, walking towards him until she was only inches away. “Are you going to arrest me, Agent?”

Aaron reached for the cuffs in his back pocket, pulling them out slowly and staring directly at her. She didn't take his eyes off of him, standing tall as he began to cuff her. Her hands were soft, almost comical as they brushed against his rough and untouched skin. He didn’t speak, and neither did she. He just closed the cuffs on her, her large eyes staring up at him like a doe. He felt dizzy again, the intoxicating smell of her perfume, the subtle hints of berries and vanilla surrounding him in a whirlwind.

He slowly grabbed his phone from his pocket, trying to dial Rossi’s number, feeling drunk as he pressed the button. What was wrong with him? And what was wrong with her? Why would she willingly let herself get arrested so easily? That was the problem. This was exceptionally easy. Nothing was ever this easy.

“Hey, Rossi. I got her. We’re coming down now.”

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Aaron wasn’t surprised that she remained silent the entire car ride back to Quantico. What he was surprised by is that she didn’t appear nervous or angry. She sat calmly, staring out the window, her body relaxed and her lips forming the slightest smile. It made him angry- he didn’t understand her nonchalance.

They tried to talk to her, ask her for her real name, about her crimes- but she would just look at them, tilting her head and smiling before bringing her gaze back outside. When they finally arrived back at the Bureau, she turned towards Aaron and Rossi, slowly speaking her first words in over thirty minutes.

“Am I allowed a phone call?” She asked, staring directly at Aaron, as if it was only the two of them in the car. For a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire world.

“Who exactly would you like to call?” Rossi smirked, rolling his eyes, trying to get Aaron to look at him. But he couldn’t take his eyes away from her. He was drawn to her like a sailor at sea, listening to the sweet song of the siren. He understood, now, why the sailors always swam to their death. It was because it was so damn beautiful.

“I’d like to speak with the Director,” she insisted, her eyes finally releasing Aaron from his hypnosis as she looked in disgust at Rossi. He could sense the shift in her tone as she looked at the agent- she had built up a terrifying exterior that she had on display for most people. But when she looked at Aaron, the wall somehow didn’t exist. Why would she show her true self to a stranger? What was it about him that she was drawn too? Could she sense his pain? Did she know that he understood why she did what she did? That he, too, had felt the rush of ending evil with his own two hands?

“The Director? Of the FBI?” Rossi asked, shocked at her absurd request. “What exactly would you like to speak to him about?”

“I just think he’d be interested to know I’m here,” she spoke, calmly, sitting back in the seat of the car and looking out the window again.

“This girl is nuts…” Rossi whispered to Aaron before getting out of the car and grabbing ‘Ananke’ from the back seat. Aaron followed closely behind, his eyes locked on Rossi’s tight grip around her flesh. He could see the marks his agent was leaving behind, his fingertips dug into her arm. It made him sick. The thought of anyone harming her made him sick. But she was the bad guy- he was supposed to hate her, to send her away and avenge all of the lives she took. Why did he want to save her so bad? Grab her from Rossi, hop in the car and take her away from all of this. It didn’t make sense, the way he felt. And Aaron hated it- he hated feeling out of control of his own thoughts- his own desires.

As they brought her into the BAU, the rest of the team following behind, he immediately noticed something was off when he walked through the doors. The rest of the team must have noticed as well, because they all kind of stopped in their tracks as they walked in.

Derek noticed her first, pacing back and forth in Aaron’s office.

“Strauss,” he groaned, rolling his eyes at the sight of her.

“What is she doing here?” JJ asked, crossing her arms and tensing up.

“I’m not sure. I’ll go find out. Rossi, can you bring her into the interrogation room? Spencer, try and get something out of her,” Aaron instructed his team, watching them seperate and do their assigned tasks as he walked up to his office. When he got closer, he noticed the Director was also there as well. He got a sick feeling in his stomach, remembering his immediate thoughts when he first arrested Ananke. It’s never this easy.

He opened his office door with shaking hands, immediately slapped in the face with tension clinging to the air. The Director stood up as he entered, and Strauss stopped pacing.

“Aaron,” she whispered, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

“Erin,” he smirked, not sure why his brain was choosing this moment to crack jokes.

“It’s good to see you, Agent Hotchner. It’s been a while,” the Director said.

“Chris. It’s good to see you as well. Can I ask what you’re doing in my office?”

The two of them looked nervously at each other, as if deciding who had to tell him the unspoken secret. The first thought in his brain was that Foyet was back. He killed him, though. He remembered the life draining out of him. He couldn’t be back. He felt his body get hot, his breathing picking up as he remembered Foyet’s face…

“Aaron… unfortunately, we’re going to need you to let (Y/N) go.”

“Who?” He asked bluntly, confused at the name he was sure he had never heard before. Although his brain was still spinning, he was feeling calmer knowing whatever this was, it wasn’t about Foyet.

“Ananke. You need to release her,” Strauss clarified, her voice equally annoyed and apologetic.

“I’m sorry… I’m confused.” Aaron was realizing now how much easier it was to hate Ananke - or (Y/N) - when she wasn't right in front of him. He couldn’t see her, she couldn’t lure him in. Her spell had broken. “I know for a fact she killed at least one person. I’m not releasing her.”

“Aaron, this goes beyond you. She is no longer a person of interest.” Chris had raised his voice, clearly frustrated at whatever was happening.

“You can’t just take away my unsub and not tell me why. Do you think my team will be okay with that? Do you think I’ll be okay with that?” Aaron was angry, the thought of them taking her away with no reason making him crazy.

“Agent Hotchner, there are some secrets within the Bureau that even you don’t know about.”

“I don’t accept that.”

Chris and Strauss looked defeated, both accepting that they won’t win this battle. Chris shook his head slightly and closed his eyes, contemplating his words.

“What is going on, Strauss?” Aaron begged, the room beginning to spin again, his body craving the sweet release of nicotine and the bitter taste of vodka.

“Your unsubs real name is (Y/N) (Y/L/N). She is a government protected assassin.”

“What?” Aaron’s head was spinning, the room around him dancing in circles as the words floated through his mind. That couldn’t be real. There was no way the place he worked, that he believed upheld justice, would do something so… unjust. So immoral. They had to be lying. “It’s not possible. We met the man that paid her to kill someone. She was paid by a civilian to kill a civilian.”

“She sometimes takes on… side projects,” Chris muttered, clearly knowing his words would upset Aaron.

“And you allow that?” He yelled, his body fuming with anger as he paced around his office. It didn't make sense. Everything he had ever believed in was crumbling right before his eyes- all because of her.

“With the things she has done for us, Aaron, there is a little bit of lenience. Besides, Jason was a bad person, anyways.”

“That doesn’t make it okay. We have a justice system in place for a reason.” He felt sick, the realization that a system he protected for so long was seeping with corruption.

“Did Foyet get his chance for trial? Or did the justice system not count for him?” Strauss looked at him sternly, frustration written on her face. Aaron realized she was right. He took justice into his own hands with Foyet, and he didn’t regret it. How was she doing anything different? For a moment, nothing made sense to Aaron. His entire belief system had shattered right in front of him. He was speechless, his brain splashing around trying to find the right words to express his disbelief. But he was coming up empty, drawing blanks. There was truly nothing he could say that could capture how he felt. He just thought of her, the sweet smell of berries that lingered in her hair, the softness of her skin, the enticing aura that surrounded her when she looked at him.

“What am I supposed to tell my team?” He thought out loud.

“We’ll handle it. Let’s go out and talk to them now,” Chris instructed, walking out of the office and down towards the annex. Rossi noticed the three of them and quickly walked up to Chris, greeting him.

“Could you gather your team for me?” The director asked, Aaron still unsure of how he would explain this to them. Rossi grabbed everyone pretty quickly, dragging Spencer from the interrogation room, which Aaron could only imagine was going very poorly.

“Hello everyone, I’m sorry to bother you all, but the unsub you brought in today is a person of interest in several international crimes. She’s been on our watch list for a while, now, and we’re going to have to hand her over to interpol.” The Directors words were quick and precise, leaving no room for anyone to second guess him. Even Aaron was convinced they weren’t going to release her the minute they were alone.

“What has she done?” JJ questioned, intrigued at the mystery international criminal they brought in.

“It’s classified, Agent. And if you don’t mind, we’d like to get out of here rather quickly. If someone could grab her, please,” he ordered, causing Spencer to quickly walk to the room she was in and bring her back out to them.

She was smirking widely as she walked out, clearly knowing her freedom was inevitable. He had so many questions for her, so much he needed to know, but he had to keep his mouth shut. She was slipping right through his fingers, and he had only just begun to know her.

“I’m so sorry, Aaron. I know how much you enjoyed seeing me in handcuffs,” she whispered to him as she passed by, winking seductively before being taken away by the Director and Strauss.

Aaron felt miserable as she walked away, the three of them heading into the elevator and away from him forever. She now felt only like a ghost, a distant memory fading away as more time went by without her. The team moved on from the loss in a matter of minutes, but Aaron stood there, frozen in place, waiting desperately for her to come back.

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Five days. He was able to wait five days before he went to see her. He tried so desperately to forget about her- it seemed everyone else had. But she seeped into his dreams, tossing and turning as he tried to sleep, her voice, her face, her body, calling to him. He needed to see her again, just to ask her why. He wouldn’t sleep ever again if he didn’t.

So, five days after she walked away, he waited until Jack was asleep, explained to Jessica that he had some paperwork to take care of, and headed to see her. His brain continuously tried to tell him it was a bad idea. He should turn around, go home, and forget her. But he knew it was easier said than done. This was the only way.

When he got to the club, he noticed the same bouncer from before was sitting outside the door. Aaron felt a bit relieved, hoping the man would recognize him and he could lie his way up to (Y/N)’ door.

“Hey, man,” he said casually, trying to sound as calm and not suspicious as possible.

“Can I help you?” The man grunted, clearly not amused by Aaron’s attempt to be friendly.

“I’m here to see A. We met a few days ago, I need to drop my money off,” he whispered, praying to whatever God was listening that this guy would believe his story.

“A isn’t supposed to be meeting anyone tonight,” he groaned, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Aaron could tell it was a long shot, but he had to do whatever he could to see her.

“Call her. She’ll tell you,” he stuttered, looking anxiously at the large man standing between him and (Y/N). It was possible he could take him down if he had to, Aaron thought. It would be a hell of a fight, but he’d brought down bigger men. He shifted instinctively, trying to casually feel his hip and make sure he was still armed.

The man pulled out a small phone that appeared to be very old- most likely a burner they used to communicate. He dialed a number quickly and stared at Aaron, as if hoping his boss would give him the go ahead to kick Aaron’s ass.

“Hey, it’s me. Some guy is here to see you. Said you talked earlier today. Can you check the cams,” he asked, trying to speak quietly, but Aaron was still able to hear every word. He waited patiently for her response, trying to keep his face calm.

“Alright, thanks A.” He hung the call up and placed the phone in his pocket, taking as long as possible to give Aaron his answer. It felt like hours, excruciating pain as he waited for his fate.

“You’re clear to go.”

Aaron was almost positive she would send him away. If she had cameras, she knew it was him. Why would she allow him to come up? Did she want to see him, too?

He knew if he stood there any longer contemplating the situation, he would look suspicious. So despite all of his common sense warning him that something was wrong, he walked through the secret door and up the narrow staircase, knocking twice at her door and awaiting to enter her world.

He was greeted by the same man from earlier, who was smiling brightly as he opened the door and let him in. He offered him another drink, which Aaron politely declined, finding a seat on one of the couches and unable to sit still as he waited for her.

She left him waiting for quite a while. Although it felt like hours of agony for Aaron, his watch assured him he had only been waiting around twenty minutes by the time she finally greeted him. She was wearing a short red dress, golden heels wrapped around her feet as she floated towards him, smiling devilishly as she poured herself a drink.

“It’s nice to see you again, Agent,” she teased, taking a sip of her liquor of choice and taking a seat across from him.

“I needed to talk to you.”

“About what?” She tilted her head, soft lips creating a pout of confusion as she stared at him.

“You knew I was going to arrest you the minute you got my application to meet… if you knew you couldn’t get in trouble, why would you let all of that happen? You could’ve called the Director the minute you knew who I was. Why didn’t you?” Aaron needed to know why she went through the trouble of setting up a meeting with him, allowing herself to be arrested and brought to the Bureau. It didn’t make sense, allowing herself to take such a big risk.

“It seemed… fun. Sometimes my life can be quite boring.” She smiled at him, her flirtatious grin that she seemed to save just for Aaron.

“Wasting my time, my team's time… that's fun to you?” Aaron was getting angry again, his body fuming as he looked at her.

“Well, maybe a part of me wanted to meet you. I mean, we’re not so different, Aaron.”

“Hah,” he laughed, rolling his eyes at her. “You think you and I have anything in common?”

“Oh, are you not the same SSA Aaron Hotchner who killed George Foyet with his own hands?”

“How the hell do you know that?” Aaron had stood up at this point, his anger and frustration causing his body to become restless.

“It’s on your record, Agent. It’s not too hard to find…” She took another sip of her drink, finishing the last of the cups content and standing up to face him. For a moment, they were inches apart, the air between them stock full of tension, anger and attraction swimming around the two. But as he prayed he could control his compulsion to touch her, she walked away, over to another corner of the room, grabbing a cigarette and lighting it.

The smell of smoke intoxicated him, making his knees shake as he craved the burn of nicotine in his throat. She floated back towards him, taking her place back on the couch and burning quickly through her cigarette.

“You seem so angry, Aaron.”

“Because you’re killing people, and somehow the people I look up to to maintain law and order don’t care.”

“Have you ever thought that you’re more angry at yourself than at me? I mean, a part of you gets it, right? You understand what I do, why I do it… and that makes you sick, doesn’t it?”

“I would never justify what you do.”

“Mm,” she hummed, standing up and walking towards him again. She placed a soft hand on his face, Aaron realizing her touch was the first he’d felt since Haley died. The feel of his flesh being caressed by someone, being held by someone- it made him melt.

“Maybe it’s not that, though. Maybe you really do hate me, hate what I do. But a part of you can’t stop thinking about touching me, feeling me… fucking me.” She moved her hand down his body, trailing her fingers down his chest and stopping at the base of his groin. He felt chills down his body, blood rushing to his cock at the slightest touch.

“That’s not- it’s not that,” he stuttered, trying to back away, knowing how dangerous it would be for him to get roped into something like this.

“Right, of course,” she whispered, taking her hand away from him and turning around, walking away. He watched her body as she floated across the room, his eyes glued to her ass that was begging to be touched by him.

“(Y/N)...” Aaron whispered, calling for her, unable to stand the feeling of her being away from him. She turned towards him, walking back slowly, taking her time and letting him simmer in anticipation as she made her way back to the center of the room. When she made her way back to him, he grabbed her chin with his hand, tilting her face up towards him, her lips inches from his.

“I would never want somebody like you. You are a bad person, no matter what you try to say to me.”

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Agent,” she smirked, her lips almost brushing against his as she formed them into a smile.

At that moment, it felt like any self control Aaron had flew directly out the window. He wrapped his other arm around her waist, pulling her body into his and kissing her. It was a kiss that was draped in desperation, anger, lust. His tongue made no attempt to be gentle, selfishly exploring her small mouth and he picked her up and sat her on a table. He tore his shirt off, his desire to be touched, to touch her, overcoming any restraint he had before.

He picked her up, her small frame easy for his trained body to carry swifty to the couch. He threw her down on her back, her body writhing under his, moaning his name so loud that he was sure the club goers downstairs could hear. He wrapped his hands around her neck, gripping gently, listening to her gasp for air as he slid up her dress to reveal nothing underneath.

“You’re just begging for me, aren’t you,” he teased, pulling his hard cock out from his boxers and teasing her entrance with his tip. She nodded slowly at him, unable to speak as he still had his hand gripped around her throat. He was aching to hear her voice again, so he released his hand, getting turned on at the mark he left on her.

He slipped into her slowly, no time to waste on foreplay. He knew he needed her now, that their time was limited and it was only a matter of time before his common sense kicked in and he got out of there. But for the moment, he was sloppily pounding into her, not caring who saw or heard, desperately needing to be as close to her as possible.

He came quickly, the euphoria of feeling another woman for the first time in months too much for him to control. She came too, though. He could tell she wasn’t faking- he could feel it. After they finished, he quickly put his clothes back on, (Y/N) continuing to lay breathlessly on the couch. He watched her for a moment, waiting for her to say something- ask him to stay, kiss him goodbye. But she just pulled herself up and walked towards the other side of the room, grabbing and lighting another cigarette.

“You should go.” (Y/N) instructed, not even bothering to look up at the man who just came inside her moments ago.

“You shouldn’t smoke those, you know. They’ll kill you.” Aaron’s mouth was dry, watching the trail of smoke that followed her as she floated around the room, refusing to give him even a second of her time.

“What do I have to live for?” She asked, finally dragging her tired eyes to his and smiling, one of the first real, and saddest, smiles he had seen from her.

Aaron tried to think of something else to say, racking his brain for the correct words to say. But he continuously came up empty, and he realized he was starting to look more and more suspicious the longer he stood there. He decided to walk away, ignore the part of him that refused to tear away from her.

He walked soberly down the stairs, out onto the street and to his car. As he sat in his drivers seat and started the engine, feeling his face get hot, the rare feeling of wet eyes as he began to cry. And then he started to laugh. An uncontrollable cackle that spilled out of him like a waterfall. It was comical, to look back over the past few months and relive all of the bullshit he had been through. He didn’t even recognize the person in the mirror anymore. And maybe that was a good thing, because the person he used to be was the same person that let Haley die.

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Aaron tried to pretend he didn’t spend every day over the next week thinking about her. The way her soft skin felt when he touched her, the way her lips tasted like bubblegum and her hair smelled like cherries. When he imagined her in his head, everything felt so distant, like he was barely holding on to a dream of her. He could feel her memory slipping away every second, and he couldn’t let that happen.

He had to see her again, and soon. He wondered if she was thinking about him as well, if she remembered the mint chapstick he was wearing, or the Dolce cologne he was wearing. It made him sick, thinking that she forgot him. (Y/N) had slowly become everything to him, what if he was just a passing thought for her?

The team had landed back in DC an hour ago, solving a case in Miami that was one of the easier ones they had had this year. Aaron was grateful for the slight break, his brain not completely in the right headspace.

He rushed to finish up the closing paperwork, scribbling his words sloppily and without much care for grammar. He knew as soon as Strauss read his, she would call him and question his mental state. But he didn’t care. He just needed to get the hell out of here tonight, and if that meant sitting through another of Strauss’s evaluations, it was worth it.

As he was signing the last of the documents, he felt his phone vibrating in his pocket. He grabbed it with caution, not sure who would be calling him this late at night. The call was coming from an unknown number, and Aaron immediately worried something had happened to Jack. He was away at his grandparents this week, planning on staying a few more days. He answered the phone nervously, preparing for whatever horror was to come.

“Hello, Agent,” a female voice said, a voice he instantly recognized as (Y/N)’s. Her voice flowed smoothly like silk even over the phone. It was truly hard to believe how she had managed to perfect every aspect of herself.

“Why- how are you calling me?” He looked around cautiously, making sure no one could secretly hear any part of the phone call.

“I’m flying to Paris this weekend, a little well deserved vacation. I was calling to see if you’d like to join me.”

“I… Paris? I can’t just fly to Paris.” Aaron chuckled into the phone, the idea of someone just getting up and deciding to fly halfway across the world with no plan truly comical to him.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d called the Fun Police. I thought this was Aaron Hotchner,” she teased. He could feel her smiling through the phone, a warmth that somehow seemed to wrap him even though he could only see her in his thoughts.

“I can have fun…” he argued, biting his lip awkwardly, not wanting to seem inferior to her.

“When was the last time you did something for yourself, Agent? Have you ever just… been spontaneous?”

“(Y/N), you don’t understand-”

“Call me A on the phone. It’s safer,” she instructed, her voice losing its soft luster as her professional side kicked in.

“A… my job, my life… it doesn't leave room for spontaneity.”

“No, Agent. That’s your choice. I’ll be at the jet runway at Dulles in two hours. Think about it. I’ll wait for you.” She hung the phone up, not giving him room to protest. He set the phone down on his desk, instantly missing her even more than he did before. Jack was going to be with his grandparents for three more days, and he did have some saved up vacation time. But what would he tell the team? What would he tell Strauss?

His phone vibrated again, this time only a single buzz to indicate a text message. He flipped his phone over and saw a new message from an Unknown number.

Life doesn’t have to be so complicated, Agent. It is much too short to spend this much time suffering. Learn to enjoy your days.

He reread the message a thousand times, knowing the words would still reign true no matter how much he tried to convince himself she was in the wrong. He had spent his whole life serving others, and he was okay with it, until now. Maybe if he had lived without complication, and enjoyed his days, his life would be completely different…

He ran home and quickly packed a bag, letting Strauss and Rossi know he needed some ‘alone time’ for a few days. They didn’t question it- one nice thing about having a recent trauma, he thought. He took an Uber to the airport, praying that (Y/N) kept her promise and waited for him.

When he finally arrived on the runway, he noticed her immediately. It was as if even being near her set an alarm off inside of him, like every part of his brain was awake, feeling her energy from a hundred feet away.

He thanked the Uber driver and ran to her, bag in hand. As he got to her, he noticed her face. She wasn’t surprised or shocked in the slightest- she knew he’d come. She somehow knew every move he would make. Was he that predictable… or was it something special between them?

“I have to be home in three days,” he said, breathlessly, overjoyed at the sight of his girl.

“We can do a lot in three days,” she responded, smiling wickedly. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms around his torso and embracing him. It was such a nice feeling to be held, comforted. He felt like he could stay there in her arms for years. But she broke the hug pretty quickly, motioning for one of her men to take care of the bags and began walking towards the jet.

As he followed her up the stairs and into their own private world, he started to remember everything he was leaving behind. The realization of just how impulsive this was dawned on him as he looked back at the city behind him. He felt dizzy, leaning on the railing for support as he shakily walked up.

“You alright?” (Y/N) asked, placing a hand on his arm to steady him.

“This is crazy, (Y/N). I just can’t believe I’m doing this.”

They continued to walk into the jet, her hand intertwined in his as they sat down and the door closed behind them. A man came out from behind the curtain, who Aaron immediately recognized as the same man who greeted him both times he met her.

“Aaron, this is my… well, assistant, I guess. Jay, this is my new friend, Aaron.” She waved to Jay slightly, instructing him to come closer.

“It’s good to meet you sir. Can I get the two of you anything to drink?” Jay was a short boy, couldn't have been more than 25. He clearly worshipped the ground she walked on, which seemed to be par for the course with men she knew.

“Oh, hmm,” she thought, closing her eyes for a moment as she racked her brain for a decision. “Whiskey sour. What would you like?” She turned towards Aaron, the subtle tilt of her head reminding him of how pretty her neck looked with his hands around it.

“I’ll do a Scotch, neat,” he ordered, something so enticing about ordering a drink on a private jet to Paris.

“I’ll grab those for you now. Matt is ready to take off, A, are you all set?” Jay turned back towards his boss, his eyes widening like a puppy as he waited for her words.

“I’m ready to go Jay, thank you,” she smiled, looking at him quickly before bringing her attention back to Aaron. Jay took her disinterest as a sign to leave and make their drinks, so he shuffled away quickly after she looked away.

He came back with their drinks a moment later, leaving quickly after and closing himself in the cockpit. The jet began to take off shortly after, and Aaron took a long sip of his drink, hoping the alcohol would calm any nerves he had left. He started at (Y/N) dreamily, as she shuffled through her phone and a pile on various paperwork on her lap.

“Sorry, Agent, just finishing up some work,” she whispered, her eyes still staring down.

“Mmm, it’s okay,” he responded, just happy to be in the same place as her again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” she smiled, setting her work aside and bringing her attention to Aaron.

“Why did you kick me out the other night? After…” His voice trailed off, shifting awkwardly in his seat.

“I figured it be best for you. I didn’t want to wrap you up with my life… with me. But in all honesty, I can’t stop thinking about you. I called you tonight, and told myself if you didn’t show, I’d move on. But… you’re here.”

“I’m here,” he whispered back, his eyes tracing down her body, craving her once again.

“I feel like we have something special, Agent,” she whispered seductively, climbing out of her seat and walking towards him.

“I missed you… I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” he moaned as she bent towards him, her lips kissing down his neck and playing with the collar of his shirt. She unbuttoned the top buttons, kissing his chest and moving her hand to his inner thigh. She trailed her fingers up his thigh, teasing his cock with the slightest touch. His hips bucked uncontrollably, blood flowing down to him as his desire took over his body.

She got down on her knees, toying with his belt buckle. She was clearly trying to make him wait, the suffering and craving all a part of her game. But he was impatient, so he ripped his belt off himself, undoing his pants and pulling his erect penis out.

(Y/N) licked her lips in anticipation, wanting to pleasure him as much as he wanted to be pleasured. She played with his tip slowly, toying her tongue around him as he moved underneath her. He wrapped his fingers in her hair, slowly pushing her mouth down around him. He wanted her to take all of him, to feel the back of her throat as he shoved his length in her mouth. She moaned quietly as she took him, bobbing her head up and down quickly and sloppily.

Aaron couldn’t remember the last time he got a blow job- let alone the last time someone enjoyed giving him one. (Y/N) was toying with him, clearly enjoying the pleasure she was able to give him just with her tongue. She looked up at him as he was about to cum, winking as she dragged her tongue up his shaft. The eye contact sent him over the edge, causing him to release himself in her mouth. She swallowed his cum happily, kissing him on the cheek and sitting back down on her chair.

He wanted to go to her, give her what she needed now. But he was exhausted, the exhilaration of her taking away all of his energy. He took another hefty sip of his drink, leaning back in his chair and wiping the sweat off his forehead. He buckled his pants back up and readjusted himself in the seat.

“Don’t hate me, handsome, but I do have to get some work done. Feel free to sleep on the couch, or watch a movie. I’ll let you know when we get there.” She blew him a kiss, teasing him with a wink before losing herself in her work. He wondered what part of her job she could possibly be doing from the seat of a plane. There was truly so much he didn’t know about her, which made it so much more exciting.

He finished his drink, watching her work in awe as the plane soared over the Atlantic. He felt himself drifting off and didn’t try to stop it, wanting to be fully rested so he could make the most of his time with her.

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Paris was unarguably Aaron’s favorite place on Earth. Whenever he told people that, they always kind of chuckled. It was kind of a feminine city, at least that’s what everyone told him. But god, he loved it here. The food, the architecture, the people… but most importantly, it was her.

She had made every second of his life magical. When they landed, she brought him to a small bakery near the Louvre, where they sipped wine and ate the sweetest fruit he’d ever tasted. It was only 10 AM when they got there, but nobody seemed to pay them any attention as they drunkenly strolled down the Parisian streets, giggling and kissing and living.

When they finally sobered up, they made their way to a gorgeous hotel, where (Y/N) got the nicest suite available. They ordered a few bottles of champagne, popping them open as soon as they got inside and helping themselves to many glasses. They drank out on the balcony, overlooking the whole city as they downed more alcohol.

The suite came equipped with a jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, which (Y/N) was begging him to take advantage of. She stripped down in front of him, lighting candles and drawing a tub of steaming water. She took a bottle of champagne into the bathroom and soaked herself in the tub, lavender scented bubbles surrounding her. Aaron couldn’t resist the temptation of her body, so he quickly followed after her, stripping down and slipping in the bubbles with her.

She sat on his lap, he kissed down the back of her neck and nibbled on her flesh. She moved her butt into him, the softness of her flesh pushing into his cock.

“I told you, sometimes it’s fun to be adventurous.”

“I never doubted that. I just think this is all… crazy…”

“Are you not enjoying yourself?” She giggled, pushing bubbles towards him and splashing around the water.

“Oh do not play games with me,” he laughed, splashing water towards her. She squealed when the water hit her face, scrunching her nose as she wiped the bubbles from her cheeks.

“Let’s go,” she smirked, standing up and carefully stepping out of the bath. Her skin was glistening from the water, bubbles dripping down her flesh. He stared in awe at her, obsessed with every curve, every inch of her more perfect than the last. She walked slowly out of the bathroom, her butt wiggling with every step. She was clearly calling for him, begging for him to follow her wherever she went. And he would. He did.

He ran after her carefully, finding her naked body wrapped in the fluffy comforter of the bed. She smiled when she saw him, sitting up and wrapping her hands around his neck. She brought his face towards her, kissing him slowly, allowing their lips to enjoy every second they had with each other.

Aaron’s hands were gripped on her hips, his naked body grinding into hers. He hadn’t known this feeling for a long time- the feeling of complete and total calm. For the first time in an absurd amount of time, he wasn’t worried. He wasn’t thinking of every terrible thing that was happening around him. He was only thinking about her- the way her lips felt on his, the way her body moved… his whole life had so suddenly become wrapped up in her.

But, the trouble was, nothing good in his life stayed. And it was only a matter of time before the universe took her away, too.

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The rest of their time in Paris went by in a daze. Most of their time they were either drinking or fucking, taking breaks to walk aimlessly around the Louvre and stroll down the Seine. He was heartbroken when he had to go back, but he did miss his son, and was sure the team was falling apart without him. When they landed back in DC, (Y/N) had a car ready to take Aaron home.

He had a good hour before Jack would be back, so he used his time to take a long shower and brew a strong pot of coffee. It was almost 7 at night, but his body was still messed up from the change in time zones, and he knew he wouldn’t get much sleep that night. He was already missing her, checking his phone every five minutes to see if she would whisk him away on another adventure.

But, as he quickly learned, she was the type of person to disappear for a while. Aaron didn’t hear from her for seven full days after Paris. Seven full agonizing days of wondering where she was, who she was with, and most importantly- what she was doing.

Being away from her made it easier for him to realize the reality of their situation. She was a killer; and yeah, maybe she only killed ‘bad’ people, but did that really make it any better? At least, that was the question he was asking himself. Surprisingly, as more time went on, the harder time he had convincing himself she was a villain. Maybe it was because he was falling in love with her, maybe it was because he understood the anger of watching guilty people walk away from things completely unscathed.

They didn’t speak about work once during their time together, although it was clear Aaron had a lot of questions. He couldn’t even begin to comprehend what she could be doing for Strauss and the Director. Who was she killing that they couldn’t get to the normal way? He wanted to know her life, understand the secrets she spent her existence protecting- but it wasn't for him. And maybe that was for the best. The mystery of it all made it… hotter.

So when he finally heard from her, seven full days later, he felt like a kid on Christmas. He recognized the ‘unknown’ number as it popped up on the screen, stepping into his office so he could speak with her privately.

“Hi, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke, her voice singing to him. He loved the way she called him Agent. He loved everything about her.

“I’ve missed you. Where have you been?”

“Oh, working. You know.” He could tell she didn’t want to speak any more about work, so he changed the subject.

“Are you back in DC?”

“For a bit.”

“Can I see you? Let’s get dinner somewhere. Anywhere.”

“I… we probably shouldn’t be out together like that… if we saw anyone we knew… your team…” She spoke her words carefully, not sure how to tell him that their relationship wasn’t exactly approved of. Aaron had never really thought about it, but the reality made him sick. Would he never be able to love her publicly? Hold her hand at the park, take her to eat at his favorite restaurant, introduce her to his friends?

But the adrenaline, the euphoria of being with her- it was worth any negatives. He would eat in the dark with her, hide her in his house, runaway with her…

“Come over to my place, then. We’ll order pizza, watch a movie.”

“Hah,” she giggled, her laugh airy and full of light just as he remembered. Hearing it made him smile. “I can’t remember the last time I ordered pizza and watched movies with a boy…”

“Well, given the circumstances, I have to get creative A.”

“What about Jack?”

“Oh,” Aaron responded, forgetting for a moment that she had yet to meet his son. He didn’t think twice about it, wanting his son to know the woman that was bringing him so much joy. But was it safe? And did she want to know him?

“I don’t want to put you in an awkward situation.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

“What is happening between us? Are we just messing around… Is there feelings?” He hated to ask her such a loaded question over the phone, but he needed to know the answer- he had to know if she was just as head over heels as she was.

“Agent, no man I’ve ever ‘messed around’ with has this number.”

Aaron chuckled, the nervousness in his chest subsiding.

“Come over tonight, please,” he begged, craving the way her lips felt on his.

“Okay, I’ll see you tonight, Agent.”

“I’ll see you tonight, A.”

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Aaron didn’t expect just how wonderful (Y/N) would be with Jack. He had never really seen a maternal side to her before, but she was incredible. Jack took a liking to her as well, even falling asleep between the both of them as they watched Finding Nemo. After they were sure he was asleep, Aaron carried his son to his room and put him to bed, (Y/N) following close behind, in awe of the way Aaron cared for his son.

“You want a glass of wine?” Aaron whispered to her, the two of them hand in hand as they walked back to the living room.

“Please!”

He poured the two of them overly generous glasses of Riesling, snuggling up on the couch next to her and kissing her on the forehead. They tried to find a movie for a bit, scrolling through endless channels before giving up.

“Can you stay the night?”

“I wish, but I have to catch an early flight tomorrow,” she frowned, her pout showcasing her perfect lips that he couldn’t get out of his head.

“Where are you going?” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wished he could take them back. Her face turned pale and emotionless as she thought of a response, taking a deep breath and closing her eyes.

“You know I can’t tell you that,” she responded.

“I’m sorry.” He felt uncomfortable, not sure exactly what to say to her. They had never had an awkward silence before, and it made him sick as he waited in the quiet for her to respond.

“I probably should get going,” she finally said, setting her almost empty glass of wine down on the coffee table.

“Oh, c’mon, we just got some time alone…” he pleaded, but he could tell by the look on her face he had already lost her.

“I’m sorry, love. I just have a lot to prepare for this case.”

“I understand. Will I see you soon?”

“I’ll do my best, Agent.”

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California was a popular hot spot for serial killers. It seemed like Aaron and the team were there every other week. This time, San Francisco was the lucky city. He had already been there for two days, stuck on an incredibly weird case, when he got the call.

“Good morning, Agent,” (Y/N) spoke.

“A… it’s good to hear from you.” He was relieved at the sound of her voice, the dark energy of this specific case seeping into him, choking any optimism out of him.

“How are things?”

“I’m working on a tough case, to be honest. It’s taking a lot out of me.”

“Would it be better if I was there?”

“How is that possible?”

“I was… in the area. Set some time aside to stop by.”

“I’m going to be really busy…” he frowned, realizing now how difficult it would be to actually see her.

“Oh, Agent, I sure hope you can make time to see me,” she teased, giggling through the phone, her laugh wrapping him in warmth and shielding him from the darkness of reality for a moment.

“Well, I have to sleep at some point,” he responded, laughing himself.

“Call me when you get back to your hotel. I’ll be waiting.”

Aaron hung the phone up quickly, peeking around the corner of the SFPD office they were currently set up in. Luckily, everyone was too busy to listen in on his personal conversations. He wondered what his team would think if they knew what was going on behind closed doors. Would they still stand around and trust the system they were working so hard to uphold? Because Aaron could barely stomach it.

“Hey, we’ve got a problem,” Derek said, coming around the corner lookingfor his superior.

“What’s going on?”

“C’mon into the conference room. Garcia will explain everything.”

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He didn’t make it back to his hotel for another 12 hours. It was nearing 11 PM by the time he finally closed the door and could be done for the day. Although with his job, he was never really off the clock.

He called (Y/N), pushing aside any exhaustion he had for a moment with her. She was there within twenty minutes, sneaking through the door, giggling and kissing quietly, trying to be secretive. It was risky, extremely risky for them to be together with his team just on the other side of a thin hotel wall. But he couldn’t help himself. A part of him wanted to get caught, be exposed, so they could stop sneaking around. He wanted to love her in front of everyone.

He forgot about the case briefly as he lost himself in her flesh, kissing her soft skin and making love to her - twice. When the exhaustion finally overcame him, he crawled into her arms and let the horrors of his job overcome him.

“It’s a bad one, this case,” he divulged, knowing he shouldn’t be telling her the details, but needed a release. He needed to scream, and she was the only one around to hear.

“What’s going on?”

“Some CEO’s kid has been going all around the country killing teenage girls. Eevrytime the police get close to him, he just runs. Five different cities, and he’s escaped them all. Thirty six bodies that we can find. Probably more. And he’s going to get away, here, too. Garcia found out he sold his house a few days ago and bought one in Miami.”

“Well if you know it’s him, why aren’t you arresting him?” (Y/N) had a confused look on her face, her eyes wide and her lips forming a slight pout as she waited for him to respond.

“We don’t have enough physical evidence. He fits the profile perfectly, and we are able to trace bodies to him in every city he’s lived in. But that’s not good enough for the courts. He’s just going to keep getting away…” Aaron felt his heart pounding, the face of Foyet flashing over and over in his head.

“Sometimes… the system doesn’t help everybody.” She wasn’t looking at him, her eyes darting nervously around the room.

“That’s why people like you exist, right? To serve justice to those who escape it.”

“That’s one way of looking at it.”

Aaron looked at her, her cheeks flushed and her breathing sporadic. They were thinking the same thing, it was only a guessing game on who would break the silence first. He didn’t think it would be here, she was too nervous.

“(Y/N)...” he whispered, placing a hand on hers.

“What are you asking me to do, Agent?” She finally looked up at him, her face flat and emotionless, a side of her she had never shown him before. It was her work face, her business face.

“I want you to do your job, A.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“It’s the only way to stop him.”

“Okay. I’ll take care of it.” She got up out of the bed and started putting her clothes back on, slowly redressing herself as she prepared to go back to work. She grabbed one of the three phones she carried, hastily dialing a number and putting the old cell to her ear.

“Hey, it’s me. I need the car here ASAP, and the bag... Yeah, it’s a change of plans. … I’ll tell you in the car.” She hung the call up and put the phone back in her bag, refusing the look at Aaron the entire time she was preparing herself.

“You’re doing this now?” He laughed, getting up and trying to stop her from leaving. He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her towards him, her body struggling to get away. She felt tense, tired. Her body was no longer surrounded by it’s usual warm glow. She was cold, and dark. She wasn’t her.

“Agent, if this is what you want, I need to handle it my way. Please let me go.”

“Will you… can I see you after?”

“I need to leave the city immediately after it’s done. And it’s best we don't talk for a bit. I can call you when I think things are safe.”

“How long is a bit? I mean, I don’t want to give you up.”

“You can’t have both, Aaron. Either I’m (Y/N) or I’m Ananke. Do you want more girls to die? Or do you want a girlfriend?” She was yelling, her voice a loud and intense version of itself that he was unfamiliar with. It made him dizzy. He sat down clumsily on the bed and put his face in his hands.

“Kill him,” he mumbled. She was quiet for a few seconds, and so was he. And awkward silence. Something they had never had. He felt like she was staring at him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at her.

“I’ll call you when I can, Agent. It’s been wonderful working with you.”

Aaron swore as she walked out the door he could hear her cry. Maybe he was making it up to make himself feel better. There was no way she could walk away that easily and not … hurt. He hurt, so terribly bad. How long was a bit? A few weeks, months? Would he ever see her again?

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Aaron awoke to a loud banging on his door and his phone buzzing like crazy. The ringer was on, but not loud enough to awaken him from his alcohol assisted slumber. He shouldn’t be drinking on the job, he knew that rule better than anyone. But he had to shut his mind up.

He opened the door to a rattled Derek Morgan, his forehead sweating and hands shaking.

“You are not going to believe this,” Derek said, chuckling slightly.

“What’s going on, Morgan?” Aaron knew what he was going to say, but he had to pretend to be surprised. Would Derek know? He was by far the best profiler on the team. How long could Aaron keep up a lie before Derek figured something out?

“Our unsub died last night. Car accident. He hit a railing and his car just… exploded.” Derek held his tablet out to Hotch, showing him various photos from the scene. His car was completely crushed and torched. You could see his body, but there was absolutely no way to tell what was happening at the time of the accident. The damage of the car was far too elaborate to find any remnants of explosives- if that’s what she used. But whatever she did, it was brilliant. There was no way anyone would think twice about this. She was brilliant.

He could feel himself smiling, being impressed with her work- but he remembered Derek was still standing there, unknowing of the secrets Aaron held.

“Well, I guess we can finally get the hell out of San Francisco,” Aaron laughed.

“You think this is the end? He just dies in a freak accident and it's over? Are we that lucky, Hotch?” Derek’s eyebrows were furrowed in the classic way his face always looked when he was suspicious.

“He’s not around to hurt anyone else, and that’s the end of it. Our jobs are done here. I want wheels up in an hour.”

Derek just nodded in agreement with his supervisor, realizing it wasn’t worth the argument. Aaron was right, the bad guy was gone and that was good enough for him.

Aaron closed the door to his hotel, grabbing his phone and dialing her number. He had assumed she’d already disconnected the line, severing their connection for the time. But it rang, and somebody answered.

“A…?” he whispered, waiting for her voice.

“You shouldn’t be calling this number,” a man responded, a voice he recognized as Jays.

“I know, I know, but please. Please just tell her something for me.” Jay was silent for a moment, deciding what to do.

“... What?” He asked, quietly.

“Please just tell her I said thank you. For everything.”

And then the phone disconnected. The call was over. She was gone. For who knows how long?

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One week later, SSA Aaron Hotchner was sitting in his office when Erin Strauss walked through his door. She didn’t knock, which made him jump. She walked right in and sat down on his couch, taking a deep breath. A disappointed sigh.

“Hello, Erin.”

“Agent Hotcher.” She looked at him angrily, her lips pursed and eyes tight as she thought of her words.

“What can I do for you?”

“In all honesty, Aaron… did you think we wouldn’t find out? You are a federal agent. Your passport is flagged any time you enter a foreign country. You were in Paris at the same time as her. And then San Francisco? She was there on assignment and your uncatchable unsub just happens to turn up dead?”

“Am I fired?” He asked, his only thought on what they were doing to her.

“Aaron… what are you doing? You are losing yourself! If this is about Haley…”

“Just tell me something. What are you going to do to her?” He bit his lip nervously, Erin avoiding his eye contact.

“Right now she’s being relocated, on a six month assignment. We’ll see what happens after that.”

“Where?”

“You know I can’t tell you that!”

Aaron sat for a moment, completely unsure of what to say next. Maybe Erin was right, he had lost himself. He would’ve never imagined himself in this situation.

“What do I do now?”

“You move on. And you do your job, the right way. I’ll cut you some slack this time, Aaron. But if this happens again… there will be consequences. Do you understand?”

“Yes ma’am.”

Erin walked out of his office quietly, closing the door as she left. He waited a moment, a long moment, before pulling out his phone. He had to at least try to talk to her. Even if the number didn’t work. He had to try.

But it rang. And this time he knew it was her who answered.

“Agent.” She answered sharply.

“Where are you?”

“I’m still in DC, as of now.”

“If I asked you to stay, would you?”

“You know it doesn’t work like that. Either I go, or they send me to prison. I’m sorry, Aaron. But this… was destined to fail from the beginning.”

“No, (Y/N). I don’t accept that. I love you.”

“You can’t. I’m sorry, Agent. This is goodbye.”

#vicficwriterchallenge #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner fanfiction

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grayfullbustermybeloved · 3 years

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@natsubeatsrock I was going through your posts from a while back and I came across this cool anti-gruvia prompt and thought I had to write it. I can’t find the post now (I accidentally closed the tab) but it was about how if Juvia played hard to get, Gray would ignore her. Anyway, here it is.

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

Juvia didn't know what to do.

She had tried everything.

Baking treats in the shape of his face, following him around everywhere to convince him of her love- even dealing with potential love rivals!

And despite it all, she was no closer to Gray Fullbuster’s heart then the first time she had confessed her love to him. It was infuriating- no, more than that.

It was confusing.

What was she doing wrong here? What was she missing?

“Cana,” Juvia said suddenly, “What am I missing? Why is Gray-sama not moved by my love?”

Cana swore, startling loudly from where she had been reclining on her couch. She had probably been surprised by Juvia’s impulsive burst through the door, but there was no time to lose. Gray-sama was out there, attractive and single without her to scare love rivals off. This was important.

“Juvia!” Cana greeted with a slight grimace, swinging her legs around and twisting to face Juvia. Strange. She didn't seem to be that thrilled about Juvia’s presence, but Juvia was sure it was simply that she was trying to work on the best advice for Juvia.

When Juvia had first arrived at Fairy Hills, all the girls had made it abundantly clear that she could come and ask them anything.

Of course, Juvia had made quick work after this rule had been laid down, knowing the advantage many of them had with knowing Gray-sama’s likes and dislikes, and requiring some help in making up for lost time.

Cana knew this as well, but despite that, was a little slow on the uptake. The brown haired card mage frowned slightly. “You want advice on Gray? Why not go to Mira, or Lisanna, or… literally anyone else who isn't me?”

It was a valid question. Juvia already knew the answer, of course.

“I’ve already tried!” She wailed in despair, coming in and sitting on a leg of the couch as Cana got up and hurriedly closed the door- perhaps trying to prevent watermarks from spreading around the building once more.

“None of their advice worked! Mirajane suggested chocolate, which Juvia has already tried several times, although Gray-sama rarely accepts food from Juvia anymore-”

“I wonder why,” Cana muttered, obviously remembering some of Juvia’s more famous failures with a love potion. Juvia carried on regardless. Now was not the time to ruminate on her failed attempts at love.

“And Lisanna suggested I knit him something personal, like a scarf, but Gray-sama lost it immediately!”

“Yeah,” Cana winced, snorting slightly. “Clothes are probably not the best way to get to Gray’s heart.”

Juvia nodded sagely. She knew all about Gray-sama’s little clothing habit. Some of his discarded shirts were hung in pride of place in her room. “So you see, you are my only hope at ever trying to find true happiness!”

Cana raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure there are plenty of other girls in Fairy Tail who have advice for you, though, apart from the Strauss siblings. So why don’t you hop on over to their rooms and leave me to drink- I mean relax in peace.”

“Ah,” Juvia said, because she had anticipated Cana saying something like that. “But you have what the others do not- you have known Gray-sama for the longest!”

Juvia presented these words to Cana dramatically, watching her expectantly, if not a bit jealously. When she had first heard of it from Mirajane, she had immediately singled out Cana as the new number one love rival, replacing Lucy.

However, through much careful information gathering (read: stalking) Juvia had come to the unexpected but welcome conclusion that maybe, just maybe, Cana had no interest in Gray-sama romantically.

The idea was a confusing one, because Gray-sama was perfect, but Cana had proven herself to be quite content with her involvement with (and her Juvia blushed just thinking about) multiple guys. And some girls, as well.

Therefore, Juvia had done the unthinkable, and deemed her “safe”.

“Wow,” said Cana, taken aback. “I guess, I have, huh? Damn, time flies bye. He was such a bitch when he was younger.”

Juvia ignored that comment, because she was sure Gray-sama had always been perfect, and smiled at Cana.

“So you’ll help then?” Juvia said cheerfully, leaning in closer to the card mage and making her eyes wide. Gajeel always said that the expression made her look like a kicked puppy, and Juvia wanted to hurry this exchange along.

Cana sighed, glancing at the clock in her room sadly. Strange. Maybe she had an appointment to keep? “Aww, yeah, whatever. It’s not like I was gonna do anything important today anyway. So, what have you already tried?”

It took around two hours for Juvia to list every advance she had made on Gray-sama since she had joined Fairy Tail, which she had alphabetically categorized and listed onto a piece of paper, but Cana was an attentive listener. She had even put on dark shaded glasses to help her focus better on Juvia’s attempts for love, saying that the sun’s glare was giving her a headache. Truly, Cana was a good friend.

Just as Juvia hit the two hour mark, and the sun was getting lower in the sky (it had been early afternoon when she had come to see Cana) she finished listing everything and looked up at the dark haired girl sitting next to her, curled into the couch.

“Well!” Juvia said brightly, looking expectantly at her companion. “Do you have any ideas?”

Strangely enough, Cana didn't respond. It took Juvia poking her several times for her to startle and take her glasses off. She must have been truly in deep thought. Juvia was shaking in excitement.

“Right,” Cana said after she had blinked several times, running a hand through her hair. “All of that was, uh, good. But not what Gray needs, I think.”

Juvia frowned, surprised. “But I got most of the ideas from very credible sources!” She said anxiously.

Cana picked up the list and scanned through it. “I’m pretty sure this one is the beginning of one of Lucy’s trash romance novels. You know, the ones she loves but pretends to hate at the guild?”

Juvia did in fact know, and flushed scarlet, sinking into the couch. She had been forced to look for inspiration in some unconventional places after the first couple of times of confessing her undying love to Gray-sama did not garner results.

Cana continued on without judgment, however. “You’ve tried basically everything under the sun. Bar one. ”

Juvia leaned in closer, eager to hear what she had been missing. She had a feeling, deep in her gut, that this was the moment. This was the moment that changed everything. No matter that she got that feeling everytime she started out on a new plan to woo Gray-sama.

Cana nodded, her face the picture of solemn wisdom. “You, my friend, need to play hard to get.”

“Hard to get?” Juvia questioned, puzzled. She had not heard the term before, but it sounded intriguing.

Cana did an awfully good impression of a witches laugh. “Oh, my young padawan, let the master tell you all…”

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

Juvia was slightly unsure about playing hard to get, but Cana was insistent. And persuasive.

“This will work!” she insisted. “You’ve tried everything else, anyway!”

It was a good point, Juvia had to admit.

So Juvia nodded, and played hard to get.

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

Four months later, she was still playing hard to get.

Gray-sama would break soon, she just knew it.

#gray fullbuster #juvia lockstar #anti-gruvia #or well #not very gruvia leaning #humour #fairy tail #that prompt was probably very old but oh well #my writing

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quickspinner · 3 years

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Month of Miracles - Dressing Up 1

Okay, well, obviously this month didn't go anything like I planned, but I'm at least gonna finish the Hallmark AU! It's mostly written, I'm just finalizing it and taking care of all the boring stuff I always skip when I write the first draft! So never fear, we'll finish it before February. I think we have...three, maybe four pieces left to go (famous last words).

This is actually part 1 of 2--partly because I realized that what I had planned for this prompt worked better as two separate scenes and partly because I haven't quite finished part 2 yet anyway, so might as well split it so I can publish this part!

This was partly inspired by The Best Christmas Pageant Ever

Find the prompt list here!

Marinette was sure she would never get used to this small town thing where people popped by without warning. She gave a slightly mournful glance at the pot of coffee that had just finished brewing, and went to get the door with a sigh.

Luka Couffaine stood on the other side, one hand in his pocket and the other holding a bouquet of multicolored flowers. He had that same look of longsuffering he’d worn when he’d come with his mother, but it softened into a smile as he saw her.

“Um, hi,” Marinette said, suddenly breathless. Why was she nervous? It was just Luka. She just...hadn’t expected to see him again so soon, after she’d cried all over him. She felt both embarrassed and oddly shy.

“Hi.” Luka gave her a lopsided smile and offered her the flowers. “Rose made me buy them and told me not to come home until you’d forgiven me for upsetting you last night.”

Marinette’s mouth dropped open as she took the flowers automatically. “But you didn’t do anything wrong,” she protested weakly, looking up at him.

Luka shrugged. “It was easier not to argue.”

Marinette giggled a little at that, and Luka’s smile widened for an instant before he looked down. “To be honest,” he began, shoulders curling inward slightly, “I wanted to see you anyway. Make sure you were okay, after all that. It got pretty intense and...I didn’t mean to put that on you.” He straightened and met her eyes again. “I am genuinely sorry about that. I wasn’t intending to upset you so badly.”

“You didn’t,” Marinette told him, laying a hand on his arm. “Really, Luka. It wasn’t you. And I appreciate that you showed me something so…” she hesitated.

“Raw?” Luka supplied, with a half smile, and Marinette hunched her shoulders a little in embarrassed acknowledgement. “Sorry if it was too much.”

Marinette shook her head, looking down to play with the stems of the bouquet. “I understand why you did it, and I feel...maybe flattered isn’t the right word, but it’s as close as I can get. I appreciate that you showed me that even though it was hard for you. I do feel like I understand you better now, and…” she shrugged. ”It was worth it.”

Luka glanced away, but he was smiling. “It wasn’t as hard as you might think. Not when it was you.”

Marinette blushed, not at all sure how to respond to that, and there was a moment of awkward silence before Luka cleared his throat.

“So, um…” he winced. “Rose kind of needs a favor, and so after I groveled at your feet,” he grinned, and Marinette huffed a quick giggle, “I was supposed to ask if you’d be willing to come over to the library and take a look at what she needs. I can take you now, or you can swing by later, whatever works for you.”

“Oh,” Marinette blinked. “Uh...sure, now’s good I guess. Just—let me put these in some water and get my coffee in a travel mug?”

“Yeah, sure, no rush,” Luka said, backing up a step. “I’ll get the truck warmed up.”

He retreated with quick steps, and then climbed into his truck and started it up, holding a hand over the air vent. It had gotten most of the way warmed up on the trip over, but the air blowing from the vents was still a bit chilly.

What am I doing? he asked himself, and then sighed. He really didn’t know. He just...he felt his expression soften as he glanced up, watching Marinette come out of Gina’s door. He hopped out to open the other door for her. It was a big step up for her into the truck, and when he took her coffee and held her arm to steady her, she turned a warm smile on him that he felt all the way down to his toes.

Okay, he definitely didn’t know what he was doing, but he knew he had to do something. These feelings weren’t going anywhere, and he was starting to feel like a liar, hanging out with her as friends without telling her he was beginning to have deeper feelings for her.

Way past beginning, if he was honest.

Well, he thought as he handed back her coffee and closed her door, I was always good at winging it.

“So what is it that Rose needs?” Marinette asked, as he got up into the driver’s seat and closed the door.

“Well,” Luka said, flashing Marinette a quick grin, “it seems that there was a mishap in the storage of last year’s pageant costumes, and Rose is hoping you can bail her out.”

Mishap, he called it. Marinette stared in horror at the costumes Rose had laid out. They were moldy, and stained, and moth-eaten—no, that couldn’t have been moths, did they have rats? Ugh. Marinette’s skin crawled just looking at them.

“Do you think you can save them?” Rose asked, hands folded together in a pleading pose, huge blue eyes staring at Marinette over them.

Marinette winced. “Rose...I don’t think there’s any salvaging these. I don’t know what got to them but…” She looked back at the tattered cloth and shuddered. “I think you’d better burn them.”

Rose’s eyes widened and filled with tears. “Oh no!” she whispered, both hands covering her mouth.

“But I can try to make you some new ones,” Marinette blurted, and then winced. Oh no, why did I say that??

“Really?” Rose squealed, bouncing several feet in the air. “Oh, Marinette, you’re the best!”

“Hold on,” Marinette cautioned, even as Rose threw herself into Marinette’s arms. “Rose,” she tried again, patting Rose’s back reflexively. “I said I’d try, but…”

Rose ignored her, seizing her hand and dragging her over to a small crowd of children and teenagers sprawled in, on, and even under some of the library tables.

“This is our cast,” Rose said, throwing out her hands with a proud grin. “So you can get whatever measurements you need right now!”

“I don’t—” Marinette began, but fell silent as Rose kept talking, making one-sided introductions that Marinette was absolutely not going to remember. Still, it made her look at the children and...

Marinette had to admit, she could see both why these children had not been picked for the traditional pageant and why Rose was offended about it. The two tallest wore black and slouched their shoulders, hands shoved in the pockets of long coats as they peeked at her through the hair falling in their faces. A shorter girl had pads on her knees and elbows and a sideshave with pink tips on the long side, and was listening with a slightly bored expression to a bubbly redhead who had piercings all up the shell of one ear. A boy sitting next to them, reading a book with his feet propped up on another chair, had pierced ears, killer eyeliner, and a multicolored ombre manicure that made Marinette envious.

The whole crowd was like that, and some of them looked more...mainstream, than others, but they all had something that stood out about them that didn’t exactly say ‘host of angels greeting the holy family’ in the strictly traditional sense.

“Normally nobody really cares about appearances, but they get stubborn about Christmas and the Christmas pageant,” Rose said with a shrug. “Nobody says it outright, but it’s no coincidence that the traditional kids get picked every year, you know?”

Looking at the little crowd of kids, Marinette saw a disparate set of personalities, both clinging to stereotypes in an effort to find an identity that worked for them, and breaking out of those stereotypes in new and interesting ways, and she would have loved to follow them each around for a day just for the ideas they sparked in her.

This wasn’t the time for that, though.

“I’ll need some materials,” Marinette said doubtfully. She’d already been to the only fabric store in town and it was closed, the owner having gone on vacation somewhere warm and sunny for the month.

Rose frowned as well, and opened her mouth, but was interrupted.

“I can help with that.”

Marinette jumped and turned, looking up as Luka gave her a smile. “Hi,” he said, amused, and Marinette blushed. She’d forgotten he was there.

“I have racks of clothes from my shows in the attic.” Luka shrugged, as if he didn’t notice her discomfort. “Jagged always has a clause in his contract about getting to keep his tour clothes, so it ended up in mine too. You’re welcome to scavenge it for anything you can find.”

“O-oh,” Marinette blinked. “Well...it’s a start, right? If you’re sure.” She frowned. “That’s probably some really expensive clothes though.”

Luka shrugged, indicating the hoodie and jeans he wore. “I’m not exactly using it. Might as well go to a good cause.” His gaze softened a little as he looked over her head at the kids.

Marinette smiled, and looked back as well. “Okay, Rose. Let’s go over what you need and who’s going to be using what, and I’ll get whatever measurements I need.”

“Great!” Rose chirped, bouncing as she clapped her hands.

The next little while was a bit of a blur, as Marinette tried to take notes on Rose’s chatter while meeting the kids a few at a time. They all looked a little hesitant at first, so Marinette put on her best, most reassuring smile, the one she used with inexperienced models who were nervous about their first big fashion show, and asked them cheerful questions as she took their measurements. She kept the topics light, asking them about their pins or patches or hair color, and most of them had mostly relaxed by the time she was finished. She surprised one or two with her knowledge of video games and laughed when one of them challenged her to a mech strike duel. She wrote her handle on a slip of paper and gave it to him with a wink, and managed not to laugh in the poor boy’s face when he blushed.

“I think that’s everybody,” Marinette said, waving to the last one, and turned around, blinking. “Where’d Rose go?”

“Hmm?” Luka had been sitting nearby at a table, chin in hand. He blinked like he was coming back to earth, and Marinette felt a twinge of guilt. No surprise he was zoned out, he must have been so bored just watching all of this. She should have let him know he could leave. Surely he had work to do and she could have walked back or gotten a ride with Rose.

“Oh, I bet I know where they are,” Luka said, rolling his eyes as he got up.

“They?” Marinette echoed, following him.

“Juleka showed up a little while ago,” he told her. “You were busy at the time.”

He led her around a bookshelf into a little reading alcove, and Marinette stopped dead, hands flying to suddenly red cheeks. Luka knocked on the bookshelf next to him with an amused, slightly exasperated smile. “Hand check, ladies.”

Juleka was standing there curled over Rose, her long hair partially hiding the shorter girl from view, but it was plenty clear what they were doing. The sprig of mistletoe in the middle of the decoration hanging over them removed any doubt.

“What?” Juleka said, annoyed, as she raised her head from a very kiss-bruised and blushing blonde.

“I’m, um, finished,” Marinette said, embarrassed, waving vaguely back the way they’d come. “You can get on with rehearsal now.”

“Oh, yay!” Rose perked up. “Thanks Marinette, you’re the best.”

“You have lipstick on your face,” Luka said helpfully, holding back a laugh. Juleka flipped him off, but Rose just linked her arm through Juleka’s and sniffed.

“Hmph. You’re just jealous because you wish you could kiss Marinette under the mistletoe. Come on, Juleka.” She dragged her smirking girlfriend off and around the shelves (though she did wipe most of the lavender lipstick off her mouth as she did so).

“Sisters,” Luka muttered. “Just my luck I’m gonna get stuck with another one.” He looked at Marinette’s blushing face and grinned. “You okay?”

She began to splutter, and Luka couldn’t help laughing. “I’m gonna take that as a no,” he teased.

“How can she say something like that!” Marinette groaned, ducking her head and covering her red cheeks with her hands.

“Well.” Luka licked his lips, and debated for maybe half a second before he went on. “It’s not like she’s wrong.”

Marinette’s insides froze. Her head snapped up to look at him. Luka gazed back at her, looking calm though there was a tint of pink in his cheeks that hadn’t been there before. He glanced up, and with a crooked smile, took her hands, pulling them gently from her face.

“I really would like to kiss you,” he admitted. He stepped back, tugging her lightly along with him until he paused and looked up. Still stunned, Marinette followed his gaze, up to the mistletoe decoration hanging from the ceiling. Oh.

Butterflies took sudden flight in her stomach. She dropped her wide-eyed gaze back to Luka, only to find he was watching her.

“Only if you want to kiss me, though,” he said, with a slight shrug. He threaded his fingers through hers and tugged her a little closer.

He held her gaze as he bent purposefully towards her. Luka bent until his nose was just brushing hers, head tilted just so, waiting, still watching her through half-lidded eyes. Heart hammering, senses suddenly full of him, of his rough hands in her and the evergreen scent that hung about him, his face filling her vision with those eyes so soft and yet so intense—

Impulsively Marinette raised her face just enough to let their lips brush together. He didn’t move away, and Marinette did it again, pressing in a little more this time, and then Luka leaned into her and they were really kissing...lightly, but fully.

It was...electrifying. Their hands untangled as they moved closer together, and he was so solid and strong and warm where she leaned on him. Her hands found his shoulders as his slid up her back, and it felt so good to be held, to feel wanted by anyone, let alone someone who was sweet and kind and down to earth while also being so... exceptional. But...even as his lips moved over hers she couldn’t push aside the fact that she was leaving. She had barely a week left, and then her whole family would descend on the town for Christmas dinner at Gina’s house and then...then she would be gone, and what...what would she do then? What was he expecting her to do? She had commitments and a career and he didn’t want that kind of life anymore, and—

Luka pulled back with a soft click, his eyes staying closed just a moment longer than hers, before he opened them and smiled softly at her. “You’re thinking awfully hard for someone who’s being kissed,” he murmured.

“It’s a terrible habit,” she said shakily. “I wish I didn’t.”

“Then don’t,” he said, his hand coming up to cup her cheek. His thumb caressed her gently. “It doesn’t have to be about anything but the here and now, Marinette. Just let the moment be what it is.”

“That’s all well and good,” Marinette sighed, “until the future is the now and you have to deal with the consequences. Luka, I’m leaving.” Unconsciously her fingers played nervously with the fine hairs at the nape of his neck.

“I know,” he said thickly, and cleared his throat. “Maybe I’m just not as efficient as you,” Luka grinned. “But personally, if the outcome is the same either way, I’ll take being deliriously happy for a week over moping around crying in my cheerios until you leave.”

Marinette burst out laughing at that, and Luka chuckled along. “I’m not trying to pressure you,” he told her, leaning back and lifting a hand to cradle her face, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I’m just saying...I’ve come to care about you a lot, Marinette. More than just friendship. I hear you. I know where you stand. I’m okay with whatever you’re willing to give me, whether that’s just this and nothing more, or a couple of dates, or...whatever. You don’t have to worry about leading me on or giving me false expectations. I just want to be with you while I can.”

Marinette sighed. “How can that be enough for you, though? If you really—I mean—”

“I do,” Luka told her softly, tilting her face up to look at him. “I really do, Marinette. Please don’t doubt that. And it’s really not enough,” he admitted, with a sigh to match hers. “If more than that were on offer, I’d gladly take it, but…” He shrugged. “What do we have to lose?”

Marinette looked at him, caught between conflicting realities. She liked him—she hadn’t even realized until now how much she liked him, but—what was he even asking her for? A week long fling? She...she didn’t do that kind of thing, she wasn’t sure she could, and...she didn’t know if she wanted to take on the pain of losing him, and wasn’t it better to just...just be friends for the time they had left? Could they even be friends after this?

Luka, watching her again, stepped back and dropped his hands back down to hers. He squeezed her hands gently, bringing her focus back to him. “Listen, we’re still friends. If you decide you’re okay with being more than that for the time you have left, you let me know.” He sighed, but cut it off and smiled. “Come on, if you’re done here, I’ll take you home.”

He dropped one hand, but kept a gentle hold on the other, squeezing it lightly before he dropped it so she could pack up her things. Marinette packed her kit mechanically, glancing at him. Luka appeared perfectly at ease, chatting with one of the kids, and he didn’t so much as look at her. Trying to make things easy, she supposed, as he always did. Giving her some space, maybe, to absorb the sudden shift in her reality.

The reality where Luka—who was also Luke Stone the rock star and that was definitely too much for her to think about right now—liked her, as more than a friend, and told her so, and kissed her, and oh my I kissed Luke Stone, Alya would freak —

She knocked a coiled up tape measure off the table and it bounced and exploded into a tangle on the floor. One of the kids scrambled over to pick it up for her, and she managed to thank her with a smile, and just stuffed the whole jumbled thing into her usually-immaculate kit.

Her hands were shaking as she snapped it closed and looked for Luka. He smiled at her, and made his farewells to the boy he’d been talking to. He walked beside Marinette to the door with his hands in his pockets, and opened it for her. It was a stupid thing to blush about but Marinette did anyway.

She still accepted his steadying hand to get up into the truck, and the smile he sent her was reassuring. She relaxed a little. He didn’t seem angry or hurt, and her nerves eased a little bit as he climbed up in his seat and started up the truck.

Neither of them said much on the way home, and Marinette was grateful, because she was sure she would start to babble if she opened her mouth at all. Luka turned on some music, and Marinette smiled slightly as she realized it was Jagged’s latest album. She ventured to ask a question about one song in particular that she had always wondered about, and Luka answered her easily with a tale about the night on tour when Jagged had been inspired to write the thing. Marinette felt a little better by the time Luka dropped her off at home. Maybe this was okay after all. Maybe he was right and they could still be friends from here.

“You can come look at the clothes whenever you’re ready,” Luka told her as he held her kit while she jumped down from the seat. “The farm’s effectively closed for the season since pretty much everybody has their tree now. Just come on over once you’ve got an idea what you need.”

“Okay,” Marinette tried to smile. “Thank you, Luka.”

Luka chucked her gently under the chin. “Don’t make me something else you’re worrying about, okay? You don’t have to tell me what’s going on but I can see you’ve got some things weighing you down, and I don’t want to be one of them. I’m just...I’m here for you. However you want me to be.”

Marinette’s smile was maybe still a little wobbly, but much more sincere. “Thanks, Luka.”

“Sure.” He let her take her kit back, and watched her until she was inside. Then he turned and climbed back up in the truck.

Luka was very, very good at keeping it all together. He didn’t freak out, he didn’t panic, and he didn’t get upset—on the outside. His hands shook a little bit right before he gripped the steering wheel, but otherwise he was completely normal, right up until he shut the door in his own room at home.

Even then, all he did was bury his hands in his hair, slide down the door to sit on the floor, and sigh heavily. It was done, after all. He’d made his move and now he had to live with it. Luka didn’t regret it, exactly, but...he wished things were different. He really did. Maybe he should have talked to her instead of going straight to kissing, but...

He let go of his hair and thumped his head back against the door. He needed something to do.

Well, the attic was probably a disaster. Might as well go up there and see if he couldn’t make it less of one before Marinette came over.

Fiction Master Post | Month of Miracles

#quickspins #monthofmiracles2020 #hallmark au #lukanette #endgame lukanette #lukanette endgame #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug

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silenceofthecookies · 3 years

Note

Hey cookie, Congrats on 200 followers dear! This events sounds so cool 🤩 I love surprises so if I'm in for a spot, may I suggest tea prompt Forest Fruits + Sabo from One Piece? Have fun writing for your event love 🥰

Hi Ellie, thank you, I’m glad you like it! ❤ I got a sudden wave of inspiration for this one and I slipped a bit, so it’s a bit longer than planned. This one is set in a modern AU! Enjoy reading, the prompt you picked is marked in bold!

You and Sabo had been dating for quite a while now. The two of you were in the same class on the final period of Friday. The one moment where nobody was paying attention to what was going on anymore. You had been staring at Sabo a lot during these classes, and you caught him staring at you more than once as well. Despite having rarely talked, the attraction was undeniable. Sabo had been the first to confess and you had confessed in return.

The early stages of dating were awkward. You were both still getting used to each other, getting to know each other, and on top of that, finding out what was appropriate. When you date a friend, you already know their boundaries, things they are ok with and things they are not. Things like subjects, physical touch, public spaces, secrecy,… Figuring this out as you went didn’t go without a few stumbles, but miraculously the two of you made it.

Finally, the two of you were out of the woods. You knew most about each other by now, you knew and respected each other’s boundaries, and together the two of you had fallen into a comfortable routine of dating, that being dinner together every Friday, whether it was at a restaurant or a fast-food joint or eating at your place, and spending some time together during the week, often on breaks between classes. Sometimes Sabo would come over to your place and you’d study together in silence.

That was the thing though: it was always at your house. You lived alone and didn’t have to inform anyone when having him over. Sabo, however, lived with his two brothers, his father and his grandfather. He had told you about them a lot, and the thought of meeting them both excited and scared you. They sounded like a very loving family, but in their own, special, maybe slightly violent way. He had told you about how his grandfather still often hit him over the head when he did something stupid, or how he and his brothers would sometimes get into fights because all of them were so stubborn. You knew from the look in his eyes that he loved them dearly, but the thought worried you a bit.

Today though, you’d have to face them. Of course Sabo’s family knew he was seeing someone, why else would he be gone every Friday night? He tried to keep you away from his family for as long as possible. Meeting your boyfriends family was a big deal, and he didn’t want to make you do that before you were comfortable. His grandfather, however, had decided that they had waited long enough, and that if they didn’t come over soon, and he’d go pick them up himself on Friday after school. Knowing the things his grandfather was capable of, Sabo suggested to have dinner at his place on Friday, with his family. You had agreed, but still were nervous.

You had gone over your appearance three times, practiced saying ‘good evening, sir. Nice to meet you, my name is Y/N’ and had done some breathing exercises. During all classes from that day, you were way too distracted to focus on what the teacher was saying. Sabo noticed your nerves during the final class, the one you had together, and tried to reassure you. The teacher didn’t like him being so focused on you instead of on his class though, and he got a small piece of chalk thrown at him, which he just managed to avoid getting hit by.

After the class had finally ended, Sabo and you walked back to his house together. You were holding hands as you walked, but you felt how sweaty your palms were and wiped them on your clothes several times. Sabo chuckled at your actions, but in reality, you weren’t the only one with sweaty palms. He knew how his family could get, and he really didn’t want you to get caught up in an argument or fight. He really hoped they would behave.

The walk to his home ended all too soon, and it didn’t take long for you to come face to face with his family. His grandfather looked like he could snap someones neck with his pinky finger, his father looked very scary because of the tattoo on his face, and his bothers were oddly cute, just like him, but both of them also looked very strong.

“Ace! I told you to put on a shirt! We have a visitor!” “So what? They can watch, I don’t mind.” Garp hit Ace overhead. “We don’t want to make them uncomfortable! Shirt! Now!”

Ace sighed and went upstairs to get a shirt. Sabo was already burning up at this point. Of course Ace was still walking around shirtless, the idiot. Luffy laughed at what just happened, walked up to you and held out his hand for you to shake.

“Hi! I’m Luffy! Sabo has told me a lot about you. He told me you were very pretty and nice and well, you ARE pretty! I can’t say if you’re nice or not yet though, I’ll let you know after dinner!”

This made both Garp and Dragon laugh loudy, while Sabo turned even redder than before and began to whisper shout at Luffy that he shouldn’t have said that, after which Luffy simply turned to you with a big grin and told you to ‘forget about what he just said’. You too were laughing loudly at this point. Ace came back downstairs, now fully clothed, saw Sabo’s face and started laughing too.

“Sabo, you look like a tomato!” Ace yelled, followed by laughter. “Shut up Ace!” Sabo yelled back. “I don’t like tomato’s! Change it to an apple!” Luffy yelled. “You don’t have to eat it Luffy, it’s just a manner of speech!” Ace yelled. “But tomato’s are yucky!” Luffy answered. “Apples aren’t always red!” Ace yelled back. “Oh, you’re right.” Luffy said, instantly calming down. “Enough! Boys, dinnertable!” Garp bellowed above the noise.

The 3 boys instantly quiet down and ran towards the dinner table, quickly sitting down on their usual seats. You were still staring at all of them, still processing what just happened.

“I’m sorry about that. Please, do sit down with us.” Dragon said, as he gestured to a seat at the table. You nodded, and sat down on the chair he pointed at, which happened to be the one next to Sabo, and across from Garp.

Dinner started out awkward. The food was good, no problems there, but it felt like you were being interrogated. What did you study? Did you have siblings? How long had you known Sabo? The list went on and on. Sabo told them few times to quit it, but they brushed it off, telling him that they wanted to know who he was dating.

Once dessert came on the table though, all questions had been asked, and now the table was filled with cheerful chatter. You had gladly joined them in their chatter, finding their company rather amusing. Sabo was watching you with a smile, relieved that now their questioning was over, you were actually laughing and relaxing a little.

“Hey, Y/N! Do you want to see pictures of Sabo when he was a kid?” Garp suddenly asked. “Don’t do that, gramps! She’ll see how ugly he used to be.” Ace teased with a grin. “Gramps no!” Sabo exclaimed, but Garp had already stood up from his chair and had grabbed a book from a nearby shelf.

Sabo was about to stop Garp, but Ace stepped in and grabbed him from behind so he couldn’t move. Garp opened the book in front of you with a big grin, and started showing you pictures. Sabo stopped resisting with a sigh, admitting defeat. Ace grinned and ruffled his hair, while Luffy excitedly sat down next to you to look at the pictures too. Dragon was watching it all happen with a grin.

“Hey look! Sabo! This is that time at the circus!” Luffy yelled, pointing at a picture. “You mean the time when we spilled that slushie on himself? That’s a good story, maybe we should tell Y/N” Ace grinned. “No!” Sabo yelled. “Yes we should!” Luffy yelled and he turned to you. “You see, we went to a circus, and we all got these slushies. Sabo got a red one, Ace and I got a blue one. Sabo was breaking some ice in his slushie but he was too rough and he poked a hole in the bottom of the cup! So all the slushie fell on his shirt! It was a white shirt, so it stained a lot. He started crying hysterically! But it was just at a moment that the whole circus was quiet, so they shone the spotlight on us to see if there was a problem. When they saw the red stain, they thought it was blood or something and everyone freaked out. It was so funny!”

Sabo looked away, face burning and red. When he did though, he noticed the clock. It was already much later than expected.

“Y/N, it’s getting late. I’ll walk you home.”

After wiping your tears from laughing away, you nodded and thanked everyone for the meal and the nice evening. Dragon told you to come back anytime, and Garp told you you could call him gramps too if you liked. It was a bit weird, but it was a sign that they accepted you. Ace nodded at you when he told you goodbye, and Luffy gave you a big hug, telling you to come over again soon, and that Sabo was right, you were a nice person. Sabo quickly pulled you out of the house and started walking you home.

“That was embarrassing” Sabo said. “You think so? I thought it was cute.” “Yes, that’s the problem, Y/N” Sabo groaned.

You laughed and took his hand, lacing your fingers with his. The rest of the walk home was filled with a comfortable silence, until you reached your house.

“There we go, I hope you at least had some fun?” Sabo asked. “I had a lot of fun. We should do that again sometime, your family is great.” “We’ll… see about that.” Sabo said hesitantly, not wanting his family to embarrass him even more in front of you. You laughed and turned to him, stepping a bit closer.

“Goodnight?” you said with a smile. Sabo smiled as well and closed the distance between your lips, meeting yours in a sweet kiss. “Goodnight” he said as his lips parted from yours.

You stepped back and walked towards your door, unlocking it and waving one last time at Sabo before closing it. You were really hoping you could go back there sometime soon.

#sabo x reader #sabo imagine #one piece x reader #one piece imagine #opfics #sabo #one piece #cookie writes #scenario #200 followers event #requested #elliemehl #scheduled post

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unbelievableholland · 4 years

Note

Hi love, can u make an angst prompt 12 & 16 with our boy Tom 🥺

Sorry Would Go A Long Way

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Warnings: Cheating, angst, angst, ANGST.

Words: 1,311

Summary: After four years of being together, Tom ditches you several times and stands you up at your anniversary.

A/N: This is inspired by Sorry Would Go A Long Way by Tori Kelly! Because it coincidentally played on shuffle on Spotify while I was thinking of ideas for the fic😂 you guys should listen to it of you haven’t already. It made me want to cry while writing this fic.

Prompts:

12. “You told me you loved me, did you tell her that too?!

16. “Am I really that bad?”

——————————————————————

It’s been 2 hours. 2 hours of waiting at that stupid restaurant. After he ditched you so many times, why did you expect him to show this time?

Because he promised. He promised he’d show up. He promised to make it up to you on your anniversary after he stood you up several times before.

But you would’ve waited there forever if it meant not seeing what you see right now that you got home. You didn’t touch your phone at the restaurant unless it was to text or call Tom, because you had a feeling. A bad feeling that proves to be correct.

And after crying in bed for 10 minutes straight, you decided to check your Instagram. You’re not surprised. You’re not surprised to see Tom, partying at some bar. Looking drunk off of his ass.

But what shocked you is the fact that he’s kissing another girl, with his hands all over her body. It’s gone viral now and people are tagging and texting you about it, asking if you’ve broken up or if you’re okay.

Just as you’re about to put your phone down, the door to your apartment opens and you instantly got up to go to the living room, wiping your tears on the way.

There at the door way, closing the door, is Harrison. His arm around the shoulders of a very, very wasted Tom. Harrison looks at you with pitiful eyes, opening his mouth to say two words. Two words enough to want to make you break down.

“I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, trying to keep the tears at bay. “He should be saying that, Harrison. Not you.”

Harrison sets him down on the couch, when Tom tries to speak up. You can’t make up the words though.

“Harrison, can you leave Tom and I alone for a few minutes?”

He only nods his head and gets out of the apartment, waiting just in front of the door.

“Tom, why’d you do it?” You cross your arm as you stand in the middle of the living room facing him.

“Hmphsjfyh— I thought she was you. You know I love you.”

“You haven’t told me that in 2 months Tom. You made me a mess! Especially tonight!”

It feels like you’ve been stabbed in the chest. He’s been saying random excuses when he ditched you. Now he doesn’t even look like he remembers what tonight is.

Tom furrows his eyebrows and stands up shakily to speak, but you interrupt him.

“It’s our 4-year anniversary. You’ve ditched me enough Tom! You can’t keep making up excuses to ditch me!”

You’re crying now. Tears fall down your face as you wrap your arms around yourself, like your trying to prevent more heartbreak.

Tom looks like he’s sobering up a little. He stands a little straighter and his eyes look like he returned from whatever daze he was in. Quickly, his face turns into one of anger.

“I’m not making up excuses, Y/N!”

“Just like how I’m not making up reasons to stay?” You whisper, the sarcasm behind the statement enough to break the both of you. You couldn’t bring yourself to ask him out loud, because you don’t want to face the reality of what you’ve been doing for the past 2 months.

His eyes widen and his anger quickly dissipating from his face. Worry quickly replacing his entire facial expression.

“What?” he whispers. Almost as if he was afraid that, if he speaks, it’ll make you leave quicker.

“You told me you loved me, did you tell her that too?!”

You don’t mean to shout but you can’t help it. Your heart aches so much from all of the pent-up anger and the hurt that you’ve been letting fester for the past couple of months. It’s all becoming too much.

“Y/N, I would never do that. You’re the only one I love.” His voice cracks at the end. His voice is shaky and he look scared. His eyes are looking at you as if he knew what’s going to happen. As is he’s begging you not to let it happen.

“Am I really that bad, Tom? To the point where you don’t even look like you care if you ditch me on our anniversary?!”

“I forgot that it’s our anniversary, Y/N. Please, don’t leave me.” He pleads as tears quickly roll down his cheeks. His voice wavering every time he speaks.

“I just wanted one night with you. I just wanted you all for myself even if it’s just for tonight. I can’t do this anymore, Tom. I can’t keep making up reasons as to why I should stay with you.”

Both of you look like a mess. Both red faced and puffy eyed from crying. You’re not even shouting anymore. Now the both of you are just scared, because you know how this is going to end. The distance between you and Tom says it all.

“I called you, I texted you and everything. I waited 2 hours. 2 goddamned hours hoping that you’d show up! If you were really that wasted to kiss a girl who you thought was me, I could’ve let it slide. I probably would’ve forgiven. Yes, it would’ve taken a while but I would, because I love you! But I’ve had enough, Tom. You can’t keep doing this to me. You can’t keep leaving me.”

“Please. Don’t.” the words come out of Tom as a whisper. A plea to make you stay as more tears fall from his eyes. He steps forward but it only results in you taking two steps back. You don’t want anything to do with him anymore, and he knows it’s his fault.

“You never tell me that you love me anymore, and I have felt so lonely. So fucking lonely, Tom! But, but it’s like you didn’t care. It’s like you changed, like you changed without me. Into someone I don’t know.”

You hold yourself even tighter. The effort you put into staying composed seemed to be thrown out the window, and the only reason you’re hugging yourself is because you felt the need to protect yourself and to hold on to that tiny piece of you that Tom hasn’t broken yet.

“I regret it Y/N. If I can take it all back I would.”

You grab your bag from the chair next to you and you make your way to the door.

“I don’t believe you.”

Tom’s heart breaks even more, if that was even possible. He just wants to break down, to tell you he loves you over and over again until you believe him. Until you take him back into your arms again.

He doesn’t want to ask, but he does. He needs to.

“Why?”

“I don’t know if it’s your pride, or your ego but I also don’t know how after all of this, after all of the hurt and the heartbreak you still haven’t said it. It won’t make it better, it won’t make anything you did ok, but saying you’re sorry would go a long way.”

And with that, you open the door and leave.

You don’t see it, but Tom just sits on the floor and cries. He took advantage of your trust and your love that he didn’t realize he was hurting you. He doesn’t know what to do without you. You don’t see how he absolutely breaks at the realization of how selfish he’s been. How he breaks at the thought of how much he hurt you, and how much he’s still hurting you.

But what he doesn’t see outside though, is that Harrison tried to make you stay. Begged you not to leave Tom. How he tried to explain to you why Tom is the way he is, but you don’t pay any attention to him.

He doesn’t see you walking away with no reassurance of ever coming back to him.

——————————————————————

Permanent Tag List:

@spideylovin @used-avocado @why-am-i-so-obsessed-help @annoylinglyaries @autobotgirl15-blog @shootingstarsaretearsofheaven @tiffy119 @eridanuswave @cherrysruin @spideygirl2003

#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader angst #tom holland fandom #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland #peter parker x reader #peter parker x reader angst #peter parker x you #peter parker x stark!reader

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citrusella-flugpucker · 3 years

Text

All 68 of my SU fics, apparently

((Because @novantinuum did it and then I wanted to do it and then they said “do it” and I took it as a dare

Compiling these gave me a sense of accomplishment. And pain. In my wrist.

Multi-line summaries nearly always squashed to lessen the vertical length of this post, even if most of it is below a readmore))

Multi-chapter fics, regardless of collection status (chronological order--oldest to newest):

And He Doesn’t Wake: My first SU fic, complete; “It can't end like this. Or: Waxing realistic as we examine the events of the episode "Bubbled".” Steven suffers halfway-realistic effects from being exposed to the vacuum of space. Probably not super canon compliant given what we learned in Growing Pains but a fic that branches off at Bubbled and rejoins canon around Mindful Education (and written around that timespan).

Diamond in the Rough: Incomplete; “Connie is in the hospital with a serious disorder, and her biggest chance is an experimental treatment combining minerals with blood transfusions. Little does anyone know...” Originally crack of “Connie gets powers from PD-infused blood” but then ASPR happened and I have to figure out where it goes now (and I want to! but...).

The Results Are In: Incomplete; “Sadie gets a piece of mail from her dad. For most people that'd be pretty mundane, but it's a little more complicated considering who exactly her dad is.” Barb/Blue Diamond crack (it makes sense in context) and affectionately called “Space Maury” internally for reasons that will make sense later. Has a similar but less “it flips the ENTIRE plot” issue with ASPR. I have many idea chunks but almost no connection between them

He’s Gone: Complete (and technically a oneshot with two “bonus chapters”); “Steven asks Peridot to get the shirt Connie got for him for his birthday from his closet. He says he wants to look nice. She's confused by his request. Greg and the Maheswarans are less confused and more terrified. He keeps saying it'll be okay. They'll be okay, even though he'll be going away. It'll just be a couple of days now. Or: Steven and Pink Steven are unable to fuse after being separated on Homeworld. That's not good for Steven.” Steven dies. That’s it. That’s the whole fic. Might potentially get an extra chapter or two still. Or not. Eh.

Thanks, Padparadscha: Incomplete/open-ended oneshot collection; “Stories about the best gem.” Padparadscha oneshots.

Your No-Good, Dirty-Rotten, Gem-Shattering, Rebellion-Leading Mother: Incomplete, little desire to finish; “What if Steven had gone to Camp Green Lake instead of Stanley? Or: If Steven Universe And Holes Were The Same Universe: A Fanfiction (thanks @captainjzh) Or, as the top of my Google Doc I started back exactly a year ago (*2019-01-07) says: SU x Holes: Because the fact that Steven Universe and Stanley Yelnats are both 14 is messing with me”. Wrote this as an exercise after reading the appalling original shopped screenplay for the Holes movie which was basically a nuclear fallout enthusiasts dream world but also quite possibly the worst and most uncomfortable thing ever written and I have had to have whole pages bleached from my memory

It’s Okay to Need Help: Incomplete (three chapters total planned), the last part of the pre-SUF-finale “Steven Corruption Theory” collection; “"Everybody needs support sometimes, and you need support right now, with this. And that's okay." She takes a deep breath. "It's okay to need help, Steven." Or: (Based in corrupted Steven theory as well as taking inspiration/using characteristics from a fic by @love-killed-the-superstar) Sometime after coming back from corruption, Steven sees a therapist to try to hammer out some lingering issues.” Steven has specific lingering issues from corruption due to the way they had to mitigate it, and that affects how he communicates with his therapist some days. Just been blocked on the best way to write it

Waiting is Worse: Incomplete; “Is there anything more awful than the feeling of powerlessness?” The movie mostly ends the same, except Steven doesn’t un-rejuvenate.

Realism: Incomplete, strong desire to complete; “As much as he may want it to be, this is not a dream. He's not possessing anyone. It's not happening to someone else. It's real.” Steven has the same effects happen to him as the Watermelon Steven from Escapism--an arm and a leg are amputated.

The President Kisses Babies, and Other White House Briefs: Incomplete, open-ended oneshot collection with very little overarching plot; “Oneshot escapades of President Connie Maheswaran and her First Man, Crystal Gem and public speaker, Steven Universe.” Inspired by a Tumblr post and with more ideas in the pipeline! Love this fic even if I lost most inspiration for four years!!

Collection (series) oneshots (chronological order):

Citrusella Tries (And Succeeds!) to Write a Fic Each Day of the Bomb: A collection where I tried to write a fic each day of the HotCG (wedding) bomb. I succeeded but also kind of not? XD

Could You Imagine?: “Imagination is wish fulfillment. What are some of the things Pearl has imagined?” Now We’re Only Falling Apart

Partake In New Extraordinary And Pleasing Pizza Lover Experiences (Or: Kiki's Lament): “Kiki rarely hates her job. But she does hate pineapples.” What’s Your Problem? (Also the title spells PINEAPPLE o.o)

Acquired Taste: “Steven has a snack as he helps prepare for an important ceremony.” The Question

My Whole Life: “Some people are just born to go into certain careers.” Made of Honor

We Can Think About Hope: Incomplete multi-chapter with no hope of completion (why it’s not listed in the multi-chapters, BTW... also the “kind of not” regarding success); “What's going on? What do we do now? Can you still hear me? (Or: The end of Reunited plays out differently.) (Or or: And He Doesn't Wake: Part II: This time with weirder angst! And more not waking!)”

Citrusella's "Steven Corruption Theory" Collection: A collection of fics written on the corruption theory premise before it became canon. It’s Okay to Need Help not duplicated here but would be at the end.

Change: “Steven's come back from probably the most serious thing that's happened to him--save almost dying after his gem was ripped out--but that doesn't mean he came back unchanged. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

My Skin: “Steven does a mental inventory of what's changed about him since his uncorruption and finds himself starting to fall into a hole of self-criticism, until a song playing downstairs sets him straight. (Based on the "corrupted Steven theory".)”

Eternity in a Moment: “It had only taken a few hours, and yet, an eternity.”

I Can't Say with Confidence: “Over an hour. He's been sitting in the tub, fully clothed, the bathroom a mess… for over an hour.It should be working! Why isn’t it working?!” Based on this art!

It’s Okay to Need Help

Happy Steven's Day!: Just after Steven discovers his mother is Pink Diamond, Mother's Day rolls around...Greg just doesn't want Steven to be in a slump about it anymore.

You Deserve All the Joy: “Because nothing is better than being surrounded by family and love. Or: Steven's once-a-year struggle with a holiday he doesn't exactly have the ability to traditionally celebrate.” It’s Mother’s Day and Steven is sad. Post-ASPR

Universe Day: “"Being your dad is the only present I really need." Or: Greg and Steven talk and realize their experiences with Mother's Day have been two sides of the same coin.” Post-SUF

Citrusella's Comfortember 2020 Fics: Fics written based on prompts for November 2020 Comfortember... not finished with it

Speed Bump: “Steven's first night on the open road isn't as smooth as he wanted it to be. Attempt to combine prompts 2-6 of Comfortember (prompt 1 just couldn't be squeezed in): "first day/night", "nightmare", anxiety", "cuddling", "afraid to sleep"”

In the After: “Steven wonders if it was corruption. Comfortember days 7-10, though only in the most tenuous, technical sense (and by that I mean all four phrases are mentioned): "blanket fort", "lashing out", "confession", "crying"”

Late Night Hot Chocolate (described in next section)

Zombie Club Chronicles: Steven endures a violent accident on Frightnight (Halloween) that changes his life forever.

Beach City Zombie Club

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Steven] doesn’t enjoy the Halloween season, but [Fill in: Steven] take(s) them on a well-meaning trip to an old Gem Ruin where they come to realize [Pick from list: They’ve made a terrible mistake in coming here]

On Frightnight when he is 17, Steven experiences the most serious event of his young life. Almost exactly a year later, Steven takes Steven to Lars' ship in hopes of being able to hop off at a truly secluded gem ruin to talk about something that Steven and Steven have been disagreeing on for several months. Lars has an idea, and Steven comes to a realization.

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

Late Night Hot Chocolate (also a Comfortember fic)

"Steven? What are you doing?" He stares into the pot.

The gem half's voice comes monotone. "Making hot chocolate."

"It's three o'clock in the morning. Why on earth are you making… hot chocolate?"

The slyness on his face is one pixel away from nonexistent and yet it's practically a traffic cone to his other half, as he remarks flatly, "Because I've lost control of my life."

Or: Steven and Steven both have nightmares that threaten to take them back to... that night... One copes by making the other hot chocolate and pretending he really isn't having any problems.

Comfortember days 16-18: Protective, Flashbacks, Hot Cocoa

Standalone oneshots (reverse chronological order--newest to oldest):

Rumble Strips:

Prompt: [Randomly roll from list: Greg] notices [Fill in: Steven] is in a somber mood lately. Out of the goodness of their heart they try to cheer up the sad soul in the only way they know how: [Fill in: WHO WANTS TO GO ON A ROAD TRIP?!]

"I really thought I could handle myself on my own." He scoffed. "Even my own therapist didn't think I could do it."

"I bet she thought you could handle yourself just fine. She probably just thought you'd do better with your support system close, bud. Like, literally, I mean." His eye weaved through the thin line of gravel past the edge of the shoulder. "You started saying some pretty concerning things."

Or: Greg and Steven stop on the side of the interstate on their way to Empire City for New Year's, to have a conversation.

For the Cluster Christmas Writing Challenge!

Auto-Injector: “In an alternate timeline, Steven meets Bluebird at her welcome party but he cannot, under any circumstances, try her hors-d'oeuvres. Or: Steven ends up with allergies because why not” (I have three more ideas for chapters)

Don't Put Beans Up Your Nose: “"I know you want answers, and I wish I had some for you, really, Steven, but from what you've described… those aren't things to play around with. It's unethical to knowingly subject you to those for the sake of 'experimenting', even if you consent." Or: Steven asks Dr. Maheswaran a question she's not ethically able to answer.”

The Exor-schist:

Prompt: A series of events have led to a terrifying effect on one or more of the series’ characters. [Randomly roll from list: Mr. and Dr. Maheswaran] are now suffering from [Randomly roll from list: Spiritual Possession]. How did this happen?

"This corrupted gem, it has a powerful connection to organic matter. Ones this powerful have been known to overtake and even kill humans."

For the Cluster Spooky Writing Challenge!

It's My Party and I'll Dry If I Want To: “You would dry too, if it happened to you! Or: Steven says he wants a pool party for his eighteenth birthday in Delmarva, after over a year of traveling the country. ...But why isn't he swimming?”

Ace Up Your Sleeve: “Or in your back pocket, same diff. Or: Steven's sad about potentially not getting to go to Pride.” (oneshot and an epilogue)

Milestone: “"Okay, so like, the books aren't, like, useless, but they assume you have like the perfect baby. Maybe consider the following: kids are dorks, man." Or: Steven went to the doctor. Once. Or: Greg thinks Steven, at 15 months, is being weird and missing milestones and is worried he's a bad dad so he goes to Vidalia for help.” May eventually be part of a babby Steeb over the years collection

Full Enclosure: “What am I going to tell you? You're better off not knowing the trouble I'm in. / I don't want you to worry about what I've just seen, about where I've just been. / You don't have to be a part of this, I don't think I want you to be! / You don't need this, you don't need me... Or: Steven defines himself by his connection to others. So when they all leave, then… he's no one. (In short: Steven is crushed by his need to be needed.)”

Vice: “He could stop whenever he wanted to. He just didn't want to. Or: Steven falls into a bad habit and tries to rationalize it as okay as long as he's not completely abandoning the idea of improving his life.”

Stairwell Solitude: “Over ten years, Greg wrote just six letters to his parents. What could they have contained?” Post-Mr. Universe

Striations: “At Connie's behest, Dr. Maheswaran makes a house call to Steven's place after his un-monstering. It's different than his last appointment, but its core is the same.”

Everything Stays: “Ever so slightly, daily and nightly, in little ways, when everything stays... Steven's therapist brings up something she's noticed about him outside his PTSD.”

I Do It For Me: “"Forgiveness is the intentional and voluntary process by which a victim undergoes a change in feelings and attitude regarding an offense, and overcomes negative emotions such as resentment and vengeance." Steven asks his therapist a question. The answer may surprise him.”

A Break in the Case: “Dr. Maheswaran takes a look at Steven's results but quickly finds herself in over her head.” Mid-Growing Pains

I have a couple entries in the @connieswap omake collection (Comic Relief and Same Old Steven)--I’m not linking them

Changing Tastes: “ Steven and Connie share a conversation after watching Crying Breakfast Friends: Under the Butterknife.”

Rejuvenated Regrets: “Someone calls Steven's name from downstairs. He's not listening closely enough to know who it is. He's not sure he cares right this moment. He wants Mom—Rose—Pink—and that's the one person he knows it's not.”

Gut Feeling: “Every time, he has to push his brain off that train of thought--what if she does it again?--but for someone with super-strength, he's surprisingly not very good at pushing.”

Lapis Watches Titanic (1997) ...There’s no summary

The Cluster Halloween Exquisite Corpse 2019 (I only wrote part of this!!): “Lars tells a horror story but loses track of it, or; a bunch of fic writers do an exquisite corpse and hilarity ensues. Written by DocCairo, citrusella, E350, love-killed-the-superstar and br42.”

Drift Away: “There are timelines where Steven fell into the biopoison when the Earth cracked under his feet. Here we see three times Steven (technically) lived despite a dive into pure poison, and one time he didn't.”

The Rose Wilts: “Once upon a time, he knew Rose. But he knew he didn't know everything.Sometimes it feels like he's learned more about her after she died than he ever knew while she was alive.“ Doug and Rose used to be friends

Tying the Knot: “Steven never wears shoes with laces, because he can't tie them. When Connie finds out, he's pretty chill about it.”

Haploid: “You're not sure if this is what being shattered feels like. You don't know if you want to be sure.” Mid-CYM

Thestral: “"How many have you seen?" "All of them." She answered without hesitation. "Oh." Or: Pearl and Steven talk about a type of gem that corruption has given some... special characteristics.”

500 Words a Secret Santa Gift: The Gratuitous Reference: “200 words a day, every day, until Under the Knife comes back. Or Crying Breakfast Friends. We're not picky at this point. Secret Santa edition! (A Secret Santa gift for @e350tb that deliberately and gratuitously references their 100 Words a Day series.)”

Sesimorp, Sesimorp: “A Lapis Lazuli makes a beautiful work of art.”

Ship Talk: “Lars and Steven share a moment on the Sun Incinerator.”

No Way Around It: “An order is an order.”

Give It A Try!: “Steven gets a Diamond to try something new.”

Better Off: “Peedee ponders what could have been.”

Steven x A Nice Calm Life Please and Thank You™: A Case for the Realization of a Bold New Ship: “Steven deserves a happy life free of interplanetary struggle and strife. It's my OTP. So I'm going to give him that! :D”

I Don't Know: “Will this ever make sense? Will this ever feel normal?” Post-ASPR

Force of Nature: “Her diamond gave her orders no longer.”

My Gemmortal (by XXXbloodstoneshardz666XXX): “the escupaids fo steven hardlight amnesia lion universe and his freinds n crushs” (this is exactly what it sounds like)

The Picture of Steven Pink: “It took a lot out of him.” (SU but Steven takes on the injuries he heals)

Self: “In the Connie Swap AU, Steven considers his identity and place in his family, community, culture, and himself. For a kid who at least tries to be all sunshine and rainbows, this isn't exactly the most fun thing to do, but sometimes it's necessary.” (these are different than the things in the CS omake collection)

I Really AM My Mom...: “"When you're singing, you want to use enough air that you could blow a throatful of peanut butter clear across the room." The crackiest of escape-from-Homeworld plots, based on a ClickHole article and a joke headcanon.”

Left: “Of course there's shame in bailing.”

Old shames (chronological order): Stories I just kinda cringe at now

Shrinking Rose: “Steven never felt bad about his stature. Until he did.” (I just don’t love it)

A Rose for Emily: “What if Rose wanted to spend the rest of her life with someone before Greg? ...It's safe to say she has a skeleton in her closet.” (less old shame than the others on this list but was hard to shoehorn in the A Rose for Emily style writing)

Alone: “Steven won't open up about how everything that happened is affecting him. Not even to himself.” (I know I’ve written other dark stuff but this one just hits different)

You Should've Asked Me, I'm Really Good at Naming Bands (November 2019 Unfinished WIPs): “(title subject to change) I did a challenge that I had to write my WIPs in November (revised to November and December) or be forced to post them unfinished. I got some updates done, but several not done. These are those stories. Dun-dun.” (only “shame” because they were things that were never finished--I also had a Connie Swap omake I was supposed to finish or the punishment was not to post it unfinished but to write Steven and Spinel (NOTP) but I just never did that)

#steven universe #steven universe future #steven universe fanfic #steven universe fanfiction #su fanfiction #su fanfic #long post #(it should be considering there are 78 FICS IN HERE)#THIS POST IS ITSELF THE SIZE OF A FANFIC #(68 fics not 78)

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voiceless-terror · 4 years

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Prompts? This is a happy day! If you wish! I'm writing something similar but I need more cakes in the flavor and you write emotions so well! But early days in the archives and Tim and Sasha are giving Jon the cold shoulder and maybe there's an accident or something Jon really needs help with but he doesn't think he can go to either of them and he doesn't know Martin. And the next day he rolls up sick, or beat to hell, or has a cast, or a black eye, and Tim and Sasha are like WAT? And then feels!

Here you are! How do you know EXACTLY what to prompt me??? This is so my speed. So here you go- I hope you like!

“You’ve survived your first month in the Archives! That’s cause for celebration, Martin. Drinks on me!”

Tim’s cheerful tones weren’t hard to miss. Perhaps he didn’t notice Jon standing in the doorway, small and timid. He realized it was the middle of a rather stressful work week, but he just needed a little bit of help with some boxes. He’d been tired and worn out for the better part of the week, and the small ladder in Document Storage was rickety at best. Martin and Tim were both much taller and stronger than him- hell, even Sasha could’ve probably gotten the job done. Just a few minutes and then they could be on their way, to wherever they planned to go. Without him.

Sasha was the one who noticed him. “Oh- hey, Jon. Did you need something?”

He looked at the other two, twitching with clear impatience. Martin opened his mouth to speak but Tim made some sort of hushing motion with his hand. A sinking feeling made its way through Jon’s chest and to his stomach- the thought of asking for even the smallest of favors filled him with anxiety. He didn’t think he could bear seeing their faces when they said no.

“Er, no, just- have a good night, yeah?” His voice sounded off, even to him, but they didn’t seem to make much of it, nodding awkwardly.

“You too!” Martin called after him as Jon scurried down the hallway, biting down whatever sadness stuck in his throat. He’d be here all night most likely.

It didn’t bother him.

______

Jon stared up at the boxes looming tauntingly on the shelf, filled with statements that were likely just as disorganized as the ones on the shelf below. But these were labeled with the most recent dates in the Archive, and that’s what he planned on going through for the rest of the week.

Back in research, Tim used to prank him by putting things on the highest of shelves- books he needed, tea he wanted. It irked him but Tim would always be right around the corner to lend a helping hand and a teasing word. It got Jon out of his head for a moment, something very few people could accomplish.

Tim still put things on high shelves in their break room but it just felt cruel, now that he wasn’t comfortable enough to ask for help. Now that Tim was never around the corner.

He put a tentative foot on the step ladder, grimacing as it leaned to the side. He’d put in an order for a new one at the beginning of his tenure but Elias never responded. He felt bad bothering the man with such a petty request when he could just ask his assistants for help. What was he supposed to tell him? ‘Hey my assistants seem to hate me and I’m too scared to ask them’ didn’t inspire much confidence.

Jon took another step forward, willing the ladder to stabilize. He needed to get to the fourth step to even have a chance of reaching the box, high up as it was. Just a bit further.

He made it to the fourth when everything went to hell. As soon as he reached his hands toward the box the ladder creaked and listed dangerously to the side, throwing him wildly off balance. He flailed right off the side, landing with a yelp and a crack on the cold concrete floor of Document Storage.

The pain emanating from his left arm was almost paralyzing-it had taken almost all his weight in the fall and was lying awkwardly across the floor. It brought tears to his eyes as he tried to move it so he just laid there for a bit, willing himself not to pass out from the pain. How ridiculous he must have looked, lying prone on the ground, defeated by a fucking stepladder.

When he finally decided to sit up his head spun- he only got as far as scooting back and leaning his head onto a shelf, trying to control his breathing. He had his phone in his pocket. If he needed help, he could just call Sasha or Tim or even Martin. His arm didn’t feel right and he would probably have to go to a clinic or the A & E, something he hated doing. He didn’t think he could brush this one off.

But what if they didn’t answer? He thought about the three of them at the bar, laughing and talking. Tim would be regaling them with some ridiculous story, his phone would ring. He would glance down at it, see Jon’s name and flip it over, ignoring it.

Or worse, they would come, see him huddled on the floor and laugh. They would try to hold it in at first- they weren’t that rude. But as they helped him to his feet they wouldn’t be able to contain it. How embarrassing he was, how ridiculous. Jon couldn’t bear to be laughed at.

Two weeks ago he had walked past the upstairs break room on his way back from a meeting with Elias. It was entirely unproductive; he could sense Elias’s growing frustration with his lack of progress. Jon wondered if he regretted making him his Head Archivist, if he was already thinking of suitable replacements. Jon wouldn’t blame him.

And that’s when he heard it- an odd, mocking voice that he knew belonged to Ryan from research. Ryan and Jon never got on- Ryan was talkative and prone to gossip, and every attempt he had made to talk to Jon had been shut down by his inability to carry a conversation. On the odd times they were paired together to work, Jon took the brunt of it with utter silence, unwilling to complain about the man lest he be deemed more difficult than he already was.

But the voice he put on- stuffy and posh- was a caricature of Jon’s own. And sure enough, when he glanced in the doorway he saw Ryan hunched over a table, someone else’s glasses on his face as he screwed it up in a scowl and carried on as “Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute” to his captive audience.

His captive audience which included Sasha and Tim.

He felt his heart shatter as the group laughed at the impression. It was accurate, why shouldn’t they? God, why hadn’t he realized how much everyone hated him here? Any respect he thought he earned faded quickly with this showing. He found himself sprinting down the hallway and locking himself in his office, ignoring Martin’s concerned inquiries as he desperately tried to blink back tears.

Remembering the incident brought the shame and embarrassment back tenfold. No, he would deal with this himself. That was the best course of action.

He took fifteen minutes to properly wallow but once his heart rate lowered and the pain was at manageable, dull roar he got to his feet and staggered down the aisle, constantly searching for a handhold. He had everything he needed on him- it wasn’t so cold that he couldn’t go without a jacket, and he knew he wouldn’t get any work done this evening.

Making his way down the hallway and up the stairs was almost tortuous; he paused several times and took deep breaths to avoid passing out and making the problem worse. By the time he got to the lobby Rosie was already gone for the day and Ed, the janitor, was idly mopping by the front door.

“‘Ave a good night, sir,” the man said without looking up. “Careful though, s’slippery over-whoa there, Sims!”

He must have looked as awful as he felt because the man dropped his mop and made his way over to his side, his face the picture of concern. Jon was holding his arm at an awkward angle so as not to jostle it. “S’fine,” he wearily started. “Have a good night, Ed.”

“Don’ look fine to me, Jonny.” Jon hated this nickname, but he never let on. He didn’t want to upset the one man who still greeted him day and night, no matter how stressed and irritable Jon looked. It was a nice, comforting routine. “Somethin’ happen?”

“Just took a fall, nothing serious,” he lied, well aware that his palm was scraped and crusted with blood. “I’ll just be going, got a train to catch-”

“Let me get you a cab, son,” he said, a paternal hand on his shoulder. “Shouldn’t be on the tube looking like that, bound to make it worse.” Jon began to voice his protest but the man was already out the door, waving and stamping in the street. He would smile at the scene if he had the energy for it. Instead he just staggered after him, wincing with every step.

“Over here!” the man shouted, standing by a cab a little ways down the road. Ed opened the door and ushered him in, hands helpful and gentle and so kind that Jon has to blink away tears. “There’s a good lad. Take ‘im to the closest A & E, will ya?” Jon watched as he shoved a pocketful of bills in the cabbies hand.

“Ed, you’ve already done enough-”

“Nonsense,” he waved Jon off, still looking at him with that mix of warmth and concern that Jon so desperately needed. “You just get that checked out, y’hear? An’ come back in one piece!” With that, he shut the door and gave him a wave, standing in place until the car was out of sight.

Jon couldn’t hold back his tears after that.

_______

Jon comes in the next day, arm freshly broken and in a sling, medicated to the gills. He paused at first, considering not taking the pain medication but he eventually gave in as the pain progressed throughout the morning. He’s a little late and he’s going to have to march past his assistants’ desks and attempt to avoid questions.

“Whoa there, boss! What happened?” Tim says immediately upon his arrival. Jon avoids his gaze and looks to the ground, walking as quickly as possible to his office and shutting the door. He deserves a bit of peace before the inevitable interrogation.

Of course, he would never be so lucky. All three assistants are soon hovering around the doorway, looking at him with a worry he doesn’t deserve. He sighs as he casts his eyes to the desk and slumps down in his chair.

“Took a spill yesterday, nothing serious,” he mutters in as staid a tone as he could manage. “Now, if you could please get back to work-”

“You’re not getting out of this that easily,” Sasha says, coming over to his desk, Tim not far behind. Martin stays in the doorway, ever polite. “You were fine we left!”

“It happened shortly afterwards. I advise none of you to use the stepladder for the time being.” He manages a weak smile that none of them return.

“Stepladder? Boss, I told you not to use that anymore!” Tim plops down in a chair, legs immediately going over the arm of it. Jon always imagined them talking in the office like this- a stupid fantasy he entertained when he first got the position. No one had ever sat in those chairs, they just stood in his office and counted the seconds until they could leave. ‘Why didn’t you ask us for help?”

“I-I was going to,” he begins, feeling instantly guilty at the thought of making them feel bad. “But- well, you looked like you had plans.”

Tim and Sasha exchanged a look. “You should’ve at least called us when it happened,” Sasha says, a hand on his desk. Jon aches to take it. “We were right around the corner.”

“I know,” he says. He feels out of it, vulnerable and loose and unmoored. Likely from the meds.

“You knew and you still didn’t call?” Martin this time, his voice incredulous.

“I didn’t think you would come,” his voice is no more than a whisper and his chest aches something fierce. His hands tighten into fists at the silence that follows; he nervously starts to fill it.

“I know-look, it’s fine we’re not friends any more,” he starts, trying to keep his voice level. “But it- it just seems like you don’t want me to be your boss either?” His voice goes higher in pitch and he can’t seem to stop babbling. “I just- I need to know where I stand. So I know what’s okay to ask. I know this isn’t ideal but I- I need help sometimes. Not a lot, just...just sometimes.”

“Jon,” Tim has a hand on his arm and an urgency in his voice. “That’s not- of course we would have come. Of course.”

“I didn’t want you to laugh at m-me.” Christ, could he not get a handle on his emotions for five goddamn minutes? Why was he still talking?

“We would never laugh-”

“But you did!” The words burst forward, almost a yell. “I-I saw you the other day. With Ryan- laughing at me. You know I don’t-” The breaths come quick and he can feel the tears coming down his face. God, what a mess he was. “I don’t understand where it all went wrong. If- if you don’t like me, why did you accept this job? Why are you here? What- what do I need to do better? Why were you laughing at me!” Jon dissolves into a mess of sobs as he slams his chair back from his desk, desperate to put as much space as he could between himself and his assistants.

But Jon never gets what he wants. Tim has his arms wound gently around his body, taking care to avoid the sling. And Sasha is there, a hand on his back as well.

“We- we weren’t laughing, Jon,” Tim tries, but Sasha cuts in.

“But we didn’t exactly tell him to knock it off, did we?” Her voice is angry and Jon doesn’t know who it’s aimed towards. He feels so stupid, so childish for breaking down like this but he knows what he saw. What he heard. “Ryan’s a jealous dick, he was just being mean. And...I guess we were being sort of mean, too.”

Tim takes over from there. “Look- things have gotten messy since we came down here, yeah? We’re...adjusting, that’s for sure. And I’m sorry that we made you feel like you did something wrong.”

“I- I did though, I must have-”

“No- Jon, look at me,” He hazards a glance at Sasha’s face, looking anywhere but her eyes. “You know me. Emotions aren’t particularly my forte. It’s- it’s a lot easier not to talk about things, but that doesn’t mean it’s right. It was a lot easier to hold onto my anger at being passed over, y’know?”

“If you told me- I would’ve had Elias switch us, I swear-”

“We don’t have to switch. To be honest, I don’t think I know how the fuck an Archive is supposed to be run either. At least not one like this,” She gestures to the room and Jon manages a weak smile.

“I’m not very good when things get messy, either,” Tim admits, leaning awkwardly on a file cabinet in order to keep an arm around him. Jon hopes the gesture is genuine, and not just an attempt to placate the man having an emotional breakdown in the middle of the office. “But for what it’s worth, I’m sorry. I’ve been a right ass. So while I’m trying to make it up to you, how about you let me and Martin handle the top shelf from now on, yeah?” The joke feels familiar. This is territory Jon can manage.

“Yeah, yeah,” Jon wipes a hand across his face, finally feeling a bit more stable. “S’fine. I forgive you.” He takes the tissue Sasha offers. “Sorry for being so- er, dramatic. The pain medication is quite something, to be honest.”

“Oh God,” Sasha is suddenly all business. ‘“You shouldn’t be at work right now. Not like this- Tim’ll take you home, right?” Tim nods, tightening his arm around Jon’s shoulder.

“Yeah- you’re not going to get anything done like this, Jon. Have a rest, Sasha’ll tell Elias what’s going on, yeah?”

“Of course.”

There it is again- of course. Maybe if they keep saying that, it’ll make it true.

Jon doesn’t argue as he’s ushered out of the Institute- whatever that was took a lot out of him, and he knows he’s useless to his team like this, dazed and unstable. Martin follows them outside- Jon had almost forgotten he was there. He had slipped out of the office during the worst of it, kindly giving them some space. He wants to thank him but he doesn’t know how. Instead he listens as Martin rattles off all the things Tim should watch out for, like a nervous mother hen.

“I got it, Martin,” Tim says patiently. “But I’ll call you if anything happens.” Martin reluctantly backs off, giving the two of them a wave as they drive out of the parking lot.

“Jon,” Tim begins, putting a special emphasis on his name. He missed being called Jon. “You know I’ll always come when you call. I promise. I’d- I’d never laugh at you, not like that.”

You know. Of course.

“Okay,” Jon responds, staring out the window. He hopes it’s true. If not, well- the words are a start, right?

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27334912

#my writing #prompts #tma #the magnus archives #angst #whump #some hurt/comfort #jonathan sims #tim stoker #sasha james #loved this prompt!#janekfan

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soldouthaz · 4 years

Photo

hi!! these past few months i’ve gotten several asks about all different parts of my writing process and i thought i’d go ahead and make a full post that i can refer people back to in the future! with the fests coming up as well hopefully it may help someone because i know i always love reading about author’s processes! feel free to let me know if i’ve forgotten anything :)

DISCLAIMER: this is MY writing process. these are my own opinions and maybe not methods that will work blanketly for everyone. writing is different for every person and you should always do what works best for you personally!

this post will be split into four parts - before, during, after, and other tips and things to remember :)

inspiration & idea

this is typically either the easiest or the absolute most difficult part of writing a fic. sometimes you begin with an exact idea and other times you want to write but have no idea where to start. personally i tend to draw inspiration from a few places in particular. writing prompt and dialogue blogs, although sometimes a bit cliche, are a huge help when trying to come up with ideas for scenes and outlines. these are some good ones – here, here, and here if you need some inspiration! pinterest and weheartit are also great places to search for inspiration both before or after you’ve settled on an idea. find an aesthetic you like and base the characters around it, do some world-building, create folders for your characters - this is a good place to reference back to while you’re writing! at this point i just try to pick something that i feel like ‘calls to me’ and leave the rest for later. the last avenue that i use to think of fic ideas is real life. i think of small things that have happened to me or to someone i know and make them much more dramatic and layered. add in some fluff or angst or whatever aspect fits and usually a storyline begins to carve itself!

outline

once you have an idea, making an outline can help you figure out if it’s going to work for you or not. nailing down the important details and plot points before you begin writing is crucial so that you have a purpose to your scenes, so that things don’t feel repetitive or pointless. when i outline i tend to organize by word count. for instance, by the 5k mark let’s say i’d like to already have established what character A does for a living and some of their interests, and i’d like character B to be vaguely introduced. by 10k i’d like the characters to have formed a friendship and for the conflict to have been introduced, so on and so forth. the plot spacing may differ based on the goal word count for a fic (do things happen quickly or is it a slow burn? etc.).

next I make a tentative timeline for the fic. I have to give myself sufficient time to plan and to write without rushing myself, but also make it reasonable enough that i can still look forward to it! writing takes different amounts of time for different people, but the more you write the more you’ll be able to estimate how long a certain word count is going to take you to complete. also, as far as advice goes, decide if you’re going to write everything and publish at once or if you’re going to upload weekly chapters, etc. i strongly recommend publishing a full work at once. typically people shy away from unfinished works and it can be very disheartening when there are almost no reads. publishing all at once will raise the chances of your fic being read and shared and will also help you as a writer not to make mistakes because you are able to go back and fix/edit certain plot points as you write.

organization

if you have more than one wip at a time, it can be really helpful to have some sort of organization in place. i write primarily in google docs, so i have one master doc with all of my wip information inside of it. i use a numbered chart (the docs themselves are titled with numbers only and correspond to the number in the chart) that has the tentative title, the goal word count, the current word count, which pov i plan to write from, and an estimated posting date. you can also limit the number of wips you have this way.once a work is published i move it from my wip list to my completed list, with the title, the final word count, and a link to the posted story. this part is optional, it just helps me to be able to see all of it in one place. i’ve found this method to be much more helpful than just making random notes on my phone that i forget about within the hour!

research

depending on the topic of your fic and the setting, you may need to do some research beforehand. if it’s historical, I brush up on the history of it and watch some films or read some books about the time period to get a feel for the vernacular and style, etc.. if the protagonist has a job i’m unfamiliar with I search up what they do, how much they make, where they work, and things like that. it’s unlikely that someone is going to fact check every little thing, but accuracy when it comes to these topics is very admirable and i feel like it really adds a lot of depth and authenticity to a fic.

another fun activity for this portion of planning is designing the characters. i try to do this for a lot of mine and experiment with personality traits, quirks, and appearances, and to create a character that feels layered as opposed to just surface level. it’s fun for me to figure out their morals and motives and opinions and to play around with those and see if they can be changed throughout the course of the story. an interesting activity here is to take personality tests from what you think they would answer about themselves! then, even if only subconsciously, your character now has interests and hobbies and feels more real, which will definitely show through when you write. there are some for you to take here, here, here, and here, and this is also a good resource.

atmosphere

(meaning in real life, not the setting of a fic). i tend to produce what i feel is my best work at night, after dinner when i have nothing else to do for the day and i can just relax. having a designated time and space to write really helps with motivation and focus, and can be the difference in accomplishing your time goals for the fic. feel free to try different things like adding music while you write (i write with headphones in and music blasting!) and adjust your surroundings to your liking. put on noise cancelling headphones, stop the clock that keeps ticking in the background or turn up the floor fan to drown other things out, or play some ambience videos from youtube to help you focus. whatever works! sometimes i also create playlists for my fics that i listen to while writing them which can add some more depth to the story too! being comfortable and not distracted are my two main requirements. also, unless it’s for music or research purposes, i would suggest distancing a bit from your phone as well!

word vomit

this is one of the most frustrating parts of writing but i can’t explain how many times it’s helped me, especially when i’m trying to reach a certain word count. i like to do an exercise when i don’t know what to write or i just have a vague idea where i sit down and just write. i don’t let myself backspace anything (unless it’s a small typo or something minor like that) and i just see where i end up. the reason why this is so helpful is because a lot of times subconsciously our brains already have some kind of idea of a direction to go in or what should be included. though this rough draft almost never makes it into my final piece and frankly doesn’t make much sense, i’m able to go back and read over it and think oh! that’s a good point, i can also write about [random plot point] here! as i think of it.

dialogue

the very first part of a scene that i write is the dialogue. personally i find it the easiest, and it helps me make a skeleton of a scene where i only have to fill in the descriptions in between. most of the time getting the dialogue written can help to visualize a scene and make conversation flow easily when you aren’t distracted with everything else going on in the scene. a lot of times if you’re focused on what a background character is doing the actual speaking may end up choppy or not make sense when you’re finished with it, which is usually my issue. this method is a good idea to use if you find yourself stuck on a scene or if you don’t know what you want the setting to be yet. if the dialogue you wrote doesn’t fit just right once you’ve added in the rest of the scene, you can always alter it to your liking.

taking breaks

this is the key to staying motivated for me. if i push myself too hard or write for too long i get frustrated and struggle to keep the flow going. it’s important to take a break when that happens because it becomes very obvious in your writing when you aren’t inspired. you’re more likely to take the easy way out of conflicts and dialogue and it could completely change the tone of the fic. by this i don’t mean procrastinate writing, but definitely make sure not to over-write. writing should be fun, not stressful.

similar fics

this step is 100% optional, but i find that it really helps me. when i read other author’s fics and i get inspired, the scene really sticks in my brain. to avoid accidentally copying someone’s ideas from their own fic, if i know that i’m writing something similar, i avoid reading any fic with a similar premise during the entire writing process. even if i think i won’t, often times i’ll subconsciously mirror a scene or a piece of dialogue from another fic without meaning to. this is definitely something to look for when you’re reading it back over!

balanced elements

this step really just depends on the type of fic i’m going for, but i’ve found that fics with some balance to them tend to do better than others. by this i mean fics that have a little of each important element like angst, fluff, smut, etc.. of course, this differs from fic to fic depending on the plot. if it’s a pwp, obviously the main element will be smut. if it’s got some heavy topics in it it may be primarily angst, or a holiday fic might be just fluff. all of these are okay on their own but it’s super easy to mix them together to create more realistic scenes and meaningful emotion in the dialogue. in a pwp i try to add some back story into it, something a little angsty or that gives the smut more meaning than just surface level (unless of course that’s what you’re going for!). on the flip side, you could take a really fluffy fic and at some smutty elements that enhance the love-y feelings from the fluff. even fluff/angst might be fun to explore! my point is that realistically we feel many emotions at once, all the time. when i write one alone my writing often feels like it falls flat and my message/theme doesn’t come across the way that i want it to.

resources

there is a list of resources and links at the bottom of this post that may help during the writing process! they are ones that I have saved to look back at when I get stuck!

read it over

this is my least favorite step. at this point, once i’ve finished the fic, i just want to post it as-is. i don’t feel like reading it over or doing edits - i just want to be finished with it. the benefits outweigh my dislike of it though, so i make myself do it anyway. it’s necessary (for me) to take a short break between when i finish it and when i read it over so that i can look at it with fresh eyes, just a day or two at least. the most important advice that i can give here would probably be not to delete anything you don’t like immediately. almost 100% of the time something can be re-written without being deleted, so if you don’t like the way a sentence is structured or the way a character speaks in a certain scene, don’t delete it! just see if you can rewrite it to model what you’re going for better. this step helps me to stay above my goal word count and not to let my insecurity get the best of me. everybody is their own worst critic, but usually there’s a reason you wrote something down, so give it every chance before you get rid of it altogether. i wrote about this here as well.

beta’s

i’m going to link to another post i answered about betas here!

choosing a title

when it’s time to choose a title for a fic i usually pick from one of four places. the first is a catchphrase from the fic. if there’s a recurring theme or nickname or description, it may be a good idea to title it the same thing so that readers will connect the title with that detail and remember it more easily in the future. the second place is from a song. there’s a lyric for nearly every different message and emotion, so there’s a high chance of being able to find one that goes hand-in-hand with a fic. the third place i look is in poems. i’m personally a big fan of lang leav, michael faudet, and bukowski, among others, and poetry usually also features a wide range of themes to choose from. the last idea i resort to when i can’t come up with anything else, which is to take a word that you feel represents the fic and translate it into another language like french or spanish, among others, or pick a word that has a meaning that corresponds with the fic. although there are no right or wrong titles, i would suggest to try not to pick a title that’s been used a lot already, or one that you think might be easily forgettable. even if you think it might be odd or not typical, people are going to remember it much more than if it’d just been a regular title.

choosing a summary

this step is also kind of hit or miss for me! either i know from the beginning what i want my summary to be or i struggle up until the last second trying to come up with one. there isn’t really a right or wrong summary – except for one. my advice here is please, please don’t just put ‘i suck at summaries! just read it!’. people tend to gravitate toward fics if the author seems confident in their own abilities as opposed to someone quite literally pleading with them to read. other than that, there are several types of summaries that i see a lot of. personally i like to use a snippet from my fics in italics, so that people can get a feel of what my writing style is like beforehand. when i write drabbles though, i usually come up with a quick, occasionally witty tidbit of a summary to grab people’s attention. for example:

a longer fic summary

Harry Styles takes his time coming out to greet them. Louis only knows what he’s seen on file and what he’s heard them talking about, but he fully lives up to the image he had inside of his head.

He saunters down the front steps of the farmhouse in his Levi’s, brown snakeskin boots curving out from underneath the denim Louis’ sure he had specially made. He’s got on a plaid button-down tucked into the jeans because of course he does, curls spilling out from either side of his cowboy hat around his sunglasses and country-tan skin.

“Harry Styles,” he drawls, extending a hand to Louis’ manager, “Pleased to meet ya’ll.”

(from my fic baby blue)

a shorter fic summary

there is little harry hates more than truth or dare.

and louis.

(from my fic like it’s a game)

and sometimes people use both as well, like this one from @falsegoodnight ‘s fic, before we knew –

“C’mon Lou,” says Zayn after a moment, He sounds even more exasperated than before. Louis sort of has a knack for exasperating people, especially people like Zayn who aren’t usually bothered by his brattiness. “Can’t you give this guy a chance? Harry Styles? Aren’t you curious about him at all?”

Despite his best efforts, Louis still flinches at the name. He really shouldn’t be so affected after all these years. He’s seen the name printed down the curve of his waist in obnoxiously and uncommonly large loopy letters every single day since his sixteenth birthday eight years ago. He’s very familiar with the name Harry Styles. It sounds pretentious and Louis hates it. He hates everything about his supposed soulmate. He hates his large handwriting that stands out like a claim on his skin whenever he’s walking around shirtless. He hates his pretentious name. And now he hates his supposed curls and green eyes and dimples.

Or Louis has been skeptical of soulmates for years so it seems like fate when he finally bumps into the owner of the obnoxiously large signature printed into his skin since age sixteen: Harry Styles, a human rights attorney who is firmly against soulmates.

and this link has some other ideas and tips for writing summaries that I found to be very helpful!

posting a fic

as far as tags and ratings go, THIS PART IS IMPORTANT! all of the steps are in one way or another, but this one is crucial that it’s done correctly. warnings and tags can absolutely make or break a fic. people tend to have very strong preferences when it comes to fics so i try to be as specific as possible without giving the entire story away in the tags. if you’re afraid of doing that, you can always put the full warnings in the note before the fic and tell people to check there before reading. i won’t list all of the possible triggers here but be sure to look those up if you are unfamiliar with some of the common ones. when it comes to tags, you’re always better safe than sorry! i like to tell people they’re free to message me and ask about something if they’re uncomfortable as well, so i can explain the trigger to them and why i tagged it that way and they can decide if they’d like to read based on a more informed basis. tagging correctly saves many people from being blindsided by something they didn’t want to see, and it also protects the author from some very angry messages about warnings.

archive of our own has an extensive support page with all of the info you could need about posting a work on their site including tags, ratings, warnings, co-authors, translations, HTML, and more. you can find it here.

as far as wattpad goes, i am definitely not as familiar with it. i have only a couple of my fics over there and a few translations that people have done for me, so my knowledge is very limited. this link seems to have some good resources for posting with them.

moodboards, graphics, covers

i feel like the writing does most of the work itself, but a graphic can really help when it comes to the next part of the process, posting on social media. some people like to do moodboards, some people commission artists to draw for them, and some like to create their own graphics completely from scratch. like most aspects of fic, there isn’t really a right or wrong way to do this. i usually make moodboards for mine! i try to stick to an aesthetic or theme, and pick a cohesive amount of pictures to use (typically three, six, or nine so they line up nicely). the pictures i use are almost always from tumblr, pinterest, or weheartit. i put them together using an app and then put a blanket filter over all of it so that it all looks unified. if you used pinterest or weheartit to create concept boards for your idea in the beginning, now is a good time to use those photos and media as well! if you’re curious, the apps i use to create graphics, moodboards, and covers are as follows:

canva (mobile app & website)

tons of templates to choose from as well as patterns and fonts! some things are locked unless you’re a member but most elements are free! easy to download and share and lots of options to customize and play around with. i strongly recommend the website on desktop or laptop as opposed to the mobile app so that the features are more easily accessible.

picsart (mobile app)

when i need to make one quickly and i’m not near my laptop (or just need something simple) i use picsart to make a quick collage and put a filter over them. there are some limited text options as well but they are not as advanced as some of the others mentioned here.

photoshop express (mobile & desktop app)

a step up from picsart, but slightly different elements. photoshop allows you to control a lot more once you know how to use it. there are some nice moodboard layouts here, as well as text and fonts, borders, and color controls. my favorite tool on here is the style transfer option under ‘effects’. a very quick and easy way to make your pictures look very cohesive!

vsco (mobile app)

perfect for adding filters and things like vignette, grain, and fade. it also has some color controls to customize those. this is typically the last step before i post. and you can save custom presets that you like to use again!

and there are many others as well – almost all photo editing apps and software have a function that will allow you to make a collage or add text to a graphic! i know wattpad also requires a cover for their stories and I believe they have an app for that too!

here are some lovely graphics that have been made for my fics by @lovelylou, @behisoneandonly, @tomlinvelvet-ao3 and @brickredtoe as some examples :)

and one that I've made as well:

social media

once i have a moodboard or graphic, i post the link to my fic on twitter and tumblr. in these posts i always make sure to include the title, the word count, and the summary. i try to make it as visually appealing as possibly by organizing the post accordingly and using fonts occasionally to catch people’s eye. this is the app i use for those on mobile!

i think about the sizing as well – twitter has set dimensions for its photos and is known for displaying the photos awkwardly. tumblr on the other hand will let you upload up to ten photos of any size, and will display them fully without any cropping. according to this link a single photo on twitter should be 16:9. this page also has some good tips. and as far as i can tell if you’re using two or four photos, i would stick to the square images as that is what’s worked for me personally. i believe canva also has a template for a twitter post too.

write for yourself

i think everyone knows this on some level but i tend to need to be reminded pretty frequently. if you’re heavily involved in social media and fic discourse, it can be very easy to get attached to what you know people want to see. writing should be a balance though, and you should always write for yourself before anyone else. we’re all free to write whatever we want and, even if it’s difficult, you shouldn’t ever let someone make you feel guilty for doing so. writing is an escape and a safe space but it can very quickly become something that causes stress and anxiety if you aren’t doing it for the right reasons.

don’t stress

easier said than done, I know, but like I mentioned earlier, writing should be fun. a lot of people here don’t do it as their job and no one gets paid to write fics. these are projects that authors take on on their own time even while they work and handle everything else in their lives and those things should come first and foremost, as well as your mental health. this circles back into my earlier point – don’t let people make you feel guilty about anything like not finishing a fic on time or not writing exactly how they wanted it. authors are real people with real lives too and if things get to be too heavy or too stressful, they’re entitled to a break or to leave if that’s what’s best for them.

don’t be afraid to ask for help / validation

there are tons of lovely writers in this community and others that would be more than happy to answer questions and give advice. if you’re struggling with something, there’s always somewhere to go to get help!

however, the concept of validation is a bit trickier than the others. there’s a fine line ;) between asking for validation for a little boost, or relying completely on it. posting snippets and sneak peeks is a great way to get people excited about your work and to get yourself motivated if you’re feeling down, but i would suggest not to post one with the sole purpose of fishing for compliments. if you do, it can be very disheartening if you don’t receive any or the ones that you were looking to hear. in my opinion you need to be at least somewhat confident in your own abilities before you can expect other people to be. posting a snippet is more beneficial for when you’ve got a mental block or are stuck in a scene as opposed to just searching for validation for the sake of getting it.

cliche vs. copying

there’s also two sides to this argument! you shouldn’t be afraid to write what you want, even if it seems like it’s a common trope or cliche topic. everybody writes in different styles and has different ideas and therefore may provide an entirely different view on what’s been poised as a ‘common’ theme. i think i could read a thousand of the ‘there was only one bed’ trope or the college au’s or the other popular plotlines. they’re popular for a reason and you shouldn’t be afraid to explore your own take on it! no one author ‘owns’ a specific trope.

BUT there is a clear difference in doing your own take on something versus just copying what someone else has written exactly. the lines can get blurry here but it’s obvious to readers when something has been repeated word for word from another fic or when one too many elements are the same. to be on the safe side, always check to make sure that the specifics of your idea haven’t been done exactly before.

resources

+ masterpost of some resources

+ how to keep readers engaged

+ helpful tips

+ 100 words for facial expressions

+ how to write good villains

+ good advice

+ synonyms for commonly used words

+ using metaphors and references

+ more helpful tips

+ descriptions

+ synonyms for ‘beautiful’

+ tips for dialogue

+ writing enemies to lovers

+ other helpful tips

+ writing friends to lovers

+ dystopian writing

+ writing a realistic argument

+ ways to cut word count

+ how to write smut 01 * tw for body descriptions etc.

+ how to write smut 02

+ SUPER helpful smut vocab

+ how to write flirting

+ how to write about grief

+ even more helpful tips

#about me #writing advice

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