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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

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Seasons of PD and Med: Season 0: The Backstory (A Halstead! Brothers + Halstead Sister! imagine)

Hey, I had an idea to pick episodes from every season of PD and Med and write them as if Will and Jay had a younger sister involved. This is the first installment and it will deal with some big things in Jay and Will's young adult years and Y/N's childhood years! Stay tuned for the next update which is season 1 of PD (I'm not gonna say what ep it is yet because I want you guys to be surprised.) I just made up a name for Mama Halstead since she hasn't been named in the show...I'm still waiting on that crumb that the writers neglected to add.

Anyway, enough of the long note, enjoy!

Will's age: 20

Jay's age: 18

Your age: 4

"Dad, I'm leaving tomorrow! It's not like I can change it now!" Jay yelled at his father as he paced the living room, his mom and dad sitting on the couch. His mom was trying to calm his dad, but that wasn't working very well.

"Both of you, keep your voice down," Amelia Halstead hissed at her husband and youngest son. "Y/N's sleeping. And if either of you wakes her up, there will be hell to pay tomorrow."

"Sh- Crap," Jay fixed his language quickly, knowing that he shouldn't swear around his parents. "Y/N."

Amelia's eyes went wide. "Jayson Halstead! You haven't told her yet? You said you wanted to be the one to tell her!"

"He won't have to tell her anything if he doesn't go," Pat Halstead shrugged.

"Patrick." Amelia gave Pat a warning look. "He's his own person and as much as we both hate it, he's an adult in the eyes of the law and can make his own decisions. One of which is whether or not he wants to join the military."

"I just think he should go out and get a real job. Why is it that none of my sons want to do that? Will wants to become a doctor and waste God knows how much time and money in school and this one wants to go and get himself killed. And for what? Because you want to play with guns?"

"Dad," Jay groaned. "We've been over this. I want to help protect people and I want to do that somewhere outside the country because there are others over there who really need it. Also, I like the adrenaline rush."

"Jay, not the time," Amelia scolded in reference to the last part.

"Sorry, Mom," Jay mumbled.

"I'm still not okay with this, no matter your reasoning. I don't need you to come home in a coffin!" Pat yelled.

You heard the booming voice of your dad down the hallway and jumped awake. Why was he yelling? Shouldn't he be sleeping just like you had been? But, maybe he was just yelling at the Blackhawks game as he did that often. Maybe if you got up he'd give you some juice. Your mom was always strict about no sugar before--or during--bedtime, but your brothers and your dad were a lot more easygoing.

So, you slid out of bed and walked down the hallway, excited to see if you'd be able to get some grape juice in your favorite princess cup. You clutched your Build-A-Bear in your hand, which was also dressed in pajamas, as it was bedtime, and walked down the hall. But, you stopped short when you heard that Jay was yelling as well.

"I'm leaving tomorrow and there's nothing you can do about it, Dad! If you hate it so much, feel free to stay home when we all go to the airport!"

Jay was leaving? Did he have another seven-sleep-long soccer camp? He always had those in the summer. And, when you went to his games with your mom when the leaves changed, he scored lots of goals.

"Jay wait--"

"Mom, I'm going to bed. I'll see you in the morning."

Jay got halfway down the hall before he saw you.

"Hey, what are you doing up? Isn't it way past your bedtime?" Jay asked, his voice softening as he crouched down in front of you.

Your lower lip started to tremble and you pulled your Build-A-Bear, who you had affectionately named Beary, close to your chest. "You go to soccer for lots of sleeps again, Jay Jay?"

Jay sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Of course, you had heard him say he was leaving. And of course, the only thing you had to compare it to was him leaving for his soccer camps which he always went to at the end of July.

"What's the biggest number you can count to?" he asked, trying to sound excited.

"Um...um...um," you furrowed your eyebrows, trying to remember what you had learned at daycare. "Ten," you finally answered.

"I'm gonna be gone a long time," he told you.

"So, ten sleeps?" Ten was a long time. It had two numbers!

"Longer than that." He placed a hand on your shoulder and went to hug you because he saw the tears in your eyes, but you ran away from him. "Y/N, wait--"

"Mommy!" you yelled as you ran into the living room as fast as your little legs could carry you.

Amelia Halstead jumped up from her place on the couch. "Sweetheart, what's wrong?" She crouched down and then picked you up.

"Jay Jay," you hiccupped as tears rolled down your face. "Jay Jay leaving for more than ten sleeps! He not my favowite broder anymore!" you wailed.

The door opened, revealing Will who had just returned from the library since he was taking some summer classes. "What am I, kiddo? Chopped liver?"

"Will my favowite now."

Will put his backpack in his room and then entered Jay's, who was sitting on his bed with what looked like a new outfit for your Build-A-Bear right next to him.

"So, I'm assuming you told her?" Will asked after he had sat down next to his younger brother.

"Yeah. And she hates me now, so there's that."

"Nah, she's just confused. She's four, Jay."

"I know that."

"Did you tell her why you're leaving? Where you're going?"

"No. When I told her I'd be gone for more than ten sleeps she started to cry and then ran to Mom. I made her cry, Will. You're the only one who's supposed to do that."

"Hey," Will smacked Jay upside the head. "I stole her bear once and I'm forever dubbed the horrible brother, yeah okay."

Jay laughed. "I mean, it's true, though. She hated you and cried for hours until you came home and gave it to her because you hid it in your car."

"I agree. It was a dick move." Will picked up the bear outfit. "What's this?"

"I got her a military outfit for her bear. Figured maybe it'd help her feel like I'm not so far away. And, it wouldn't freak her out when she sees me in my uniform tomorrow."

Jay and Will looked up at the sound of his door being opened. "Someone wanted to see you," their mom said, still holding you in her arms. "Isn't that right, sweetheart?"

You nodded. "Down peas," you said, trying your best to say please.

The minute you were safely on the floor, you ran to Jay's bed and hauled yourself up all by yourself. "I sowwy," you told your big brother.

"It's okay. But you know what will make me feel better?" you shook your head no. "A hug."

"Okay!" you jumped into Jay's lap and hugged him, unknowingly jumping somewhere that hurt him, causing him to grimace and Will to burst out laughing. After a warning glance from your mom though, Will stopped.

Once Jay regained his composure, he grabbed the bear outfit from next to him. "I have a present for you."

You pulled away from him and looked at him expectantly. "Weally? But I was mean."

"I know you didn't mean it. I forgive you."

You had no idea what he was talking about, but nodded anyway.

"You know how the good guys fight the bad guys?" Jay started. You nodded. "I'm leaving to fight some really bad guys."

"So you a good guy?"

"Yes," he chuckled. "And I wear something that looks like this. So, I thought maybe Beary would like his own. That way, you know that me and him are both the good guys and when I'm gone, he'll fight off all the bad guys in your bad dreams."

"Beary can fight da bad guys?"

"Yes, it's because he has this. He can even just wear the hat and be fighting bad guys."

He handed you the camo shirt, pants, and hat for your bear.

"You not wearing dis," you told him.

Now it was your mom's turn to butt in. "It's because he's sleepy. He doesn't wear it to sleep. But, he'll wear it tomorrow and Beary and Jay will match."

"Beary match Jay Jay 'morrow?" you asked, looking up at your mom expectantly.

"Yes. And they'll match faster if both you and Beary go to sleep."

"Weally?"

"Really. Now, how about we go to sleep and you can put Beary's new outfit on tomorrow?"

"Okay. Night night, Will. Night night, Jay Jay."

Once your mom had taken you out of the room, Will spoke up. "Damn, now I'm gonna have to get that bear a white coat once I graduate from med school just to one-up you."

"His name's Beary," Jay told him.

Will rolled his eyes. "Fine. I'm gonna have to get Beary a white coat when I graduate from med school. Happy now, little brother?"

"Beary happy."

***

You, your mom, dad, and Will all walked into the airport to say goodbye to Jay before he boarded his flight. Beary was dressed in his camo, but you hadn't seen Jay dressed in his yet as he had left early to say goodbye to Allie and some other friends before you had gotten the chance to see him this morning.

"Look, there's Jay," your mom said, trying to be as happy as she could so that you wouldn't get sad. But, on the inside, her heart was breaking. But, once again, this is what her son wanted to do, so she wouldn't stop him.

"Hey guys," he said as he walked up to you, again, trying to be as happy as he could. But, since you couldn't really read the tone yet, you missed the nervousness in his voice.

"You and Beary match!"

"I told you we would! Would I ever lie to you?"

You shook your head no. You trusted both your big brothers to always tell you the truth.

"C'mere." Will was the first one to give Jay a hug. "I'm gonna miss your annoying--" Will leaned in to whisper in Jay's ear, knowing that if his mom heard him swear around you, he'd never hear the end of it. "--ass."

"I'll miss you, too. And all that annoying school talk you do. Dad?"

He turned to his dad and he hugged him, shocking both Jay and Will. "Stay safe out there, son."

"I will."

"Mom, please don't cry," Jay said as he turned to your mom, who was still holding you in her arms.

"I just love you so much. I don't want anything to happen to you."

"Mom," he said as he swallowed a lump in his throat and hugged her. "I love you, too."

He pulled away and then looked at you. "And you, I am gonna miss you the most."

"Weally?"

"Yes, don't tell Will, but you're my favorite."

"Mommy! I'm Jay Jay's favowite."

"Flight 51163 now boarding."

"I gotta go. But, remember what I told you, okay? Beary will always fight your bad dreams for you because he has his own uniform now."

"Just like you?"

Jay nodded. "Now, can Mommy put you down so I can get a big Y/N hug?"

Your mom set you on the ground and Jay crouched down to your level and enveloped you in a hug. "I gotta go," he said as he pulled away. "Be good for Mommy and Daddy."

"I will. I love you Jay Jay."

"I love you, too." He stood up and looked at the rest of his family. "All of you."

He turned and started to walk away. More than ten sleeps is too long! And, before your mom could pick you back up, you ran towards him, dropping Beary in the process.

"No no no Jay Jay, peas stay!" you yelled.

Jay's head whipped around just as you attached yourself his leg with tears running down your face.

"Y/N, Jay's gonna be home before you know it," your mom said.

"But- But I don't want Jay Jay leave. I want Jay Jay home!"

"I know, I know. But remember what he told you last night? He's gotta get all the bad guys. And, you want him to get all the bad guys, don't you?"

"You pwomise to get all da bad guys, Jay Jay?" you asked, still holding onto his leg.

"I promise."

Your mom reached down to grab you and then lifted you up into her arms.

Another guy wearing the same clothes as Jay came up to you. "Is this yours?" he asked you.

"Beary! I dropped Beary, Mommy!" you exclaimed as you reached out and took your bear from him.

"I see that. Now, what do you say?"

"Tank you!"

"You're welcome," he said.

Then, you waved goodbye as your mom walked away with you and returned to Will and your dad. All the while, you clutched Beary, making sure he didn't fall out of your grasp again.

"Kid sister?" the guy who handed you Beary back asked Jay.

"Yeah, she's four. Doesn't really get what's going on. Thanks for giving that back. She would've gone crazy if she got in the car and it wasn't there," Jay answered. "I'm Jay Halstead by the way."

"Greg Gerwitz," he replied. "But everyone calls me Mouse."

***

Will's age: 22

Jay's age: 20

Your age: 6

"Mom is gonna be shocked, man," Will said to Jay as he parked his car in the driveway. "I just hope she doesn't me kill for keeping it a secret from her."

"I think that'll be the last thing on her mind when she sees me. Now, you said that her and Y/N are leaving at 8:15, right?"

"Yeah, so you better go stand outside my car now because it's 8:14."

Meanwhile, inside you ran back down the hallway to your room. "Y/N!" Your mom shouted after you. "We have to go! You don't want to be late on your first day of kindergarten, do you?"

You ran to your room and then grabbed Beary. You had changed him back into his military uniform outfit--or, what you called Jay Jay's clothes--earlier this morning. It was the only thing Beary wore during the day since Jay's been gone. You'd put him into his pajamas at night and then right back into the military uniform outfit when you woke up.

"I'm back, Mama! Beary's coming to school with me!"

"That reminds me," she pulled out a small toy backpack from behind her back. "Beary can't go to school without a backpack now, can he?"

"No, Mommy! Thank you!" you quickly put the red backpack on Beary's back and then your mom took a picture.

Then, you and your mom stepped out the front door.

Jay and Will were both leaning against Will's car. Tears came to Jay's eyes when he saw that your bear was still in that military outfit he'd gotten you two years ago before he left for basic training and then for Afghanistan.

Through a rushed phone call a few months ago, Jay had asked Will when your first day of school was. He didn't want to miss it, being the good big brother he was. So, once he had a date, he went on a mission to get himself off his tour one week early. Somehow, he was successful. Then, he coordinated with Will about what time his flight was landing in Chicago and he'd picked him up. The two brothers spent the night at a hotel--Will saying he was staying at a friend's house--and then driven home that morning.

You were having a very intense conversation with your mom about what you hoped kindergarten would be like when she stopped in her tracks and put her hand over her mouth.

"Mommy, what's wrong?" you asked, looking up at her with wide eyes.

"Hi, Mom."

You knew that voice. But, usually, it only came through the phone and your mom wasn't holding the phone right now.

You looked away from your mom and towards the sound of footsteps.

There, right in front of you, was your big brother in his military uniform that matched Beary's.

"Jay Jay!" you yelled and sprinted towards him.

"There's my favorite kindergartner!" Jay exclaimed when he picked you up. "Did you miss me?"

"I missed you this much!" You spread your arms out as far as they could go.

"Really?" You nodded your head. "You missed me a lot, huh? Well, I missed you more!"

"Did you get the bad guys?"

Jay swallowed, images from his deployment and having people bleed out in front of him coming to the forefront of his mind. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, Y/N. I got all the bad guys."

"Good!"

"How did you- How did you both do this?" your mom choked out, in tears.

"Mommy, don't cry," you told her, still in Jay's arms. "Jay Jay's home, be happy."

"I am happy, baby. These are happy tears. But how did you do this? I thought you weren't supposed to be home for another week, Jay!"

"Me and Will talked about it. I found out when Y/N's first day of school was, and the rest just fell into place. I couldn't miss walking my favorite sister to her first day at big kid school, now could I?" he asked, tickling your stomach, causing you to giggle.

"No, stop! Jay Jay stop!" you giggled and he set you back down on the ground.

"How about you walk to school with us and then the three of us go out for breakfast?" your mom suggested.

"What about me?" you asked, looking up at your mom. "Can I come?"

"You'll be in school, honey. And, remember what I said you'd get after school?"

"A donut!" you exclaimed.

"Wow! Someone's lucky!" Jay said, overexaggerating it.

"Make sure you tell them it was your first day of school, Y/N," Will started, "because I know they'll be sure to put extra sprinkles on it."

"Mommy! I get extra sprinkles!"

"So, I heard. But, we better get going, we don't want to be late."

"Sorry to burst your bubble, Mom," Will started, "But I gotta start heading back to New York."

"Med school can't wait another day, huh?" Jay asked.

"I've already missed one lecture, but it was on the ethics and implications of not respecting a DNR...which is common sense in the medical world. But, I don't think I can afford to miss anymore. Sorry guys."

"You'll be back soon though, right?" you asked.

"Yup, I'll be back for Thanksgiving. A lot faster than Jay got back."

"Okay!" you exclaimed. Then, you grabbed your mom's hand and Jay's and walked to school in the middle of them, excited to have your big brother who fought the bad guys back home.

***

Will's age: 25

Jay's age: 23

Your age: 9

It's been three years since Jay's first tour ended, and he was currently overseas on his second tour. You were in third grade now, so you enjoyed getting to write letters to him and tell him all about school. You'd also send some to Will in New York so that he didn't feel left out. And, Will would send you these super cool things called postcards with pictures of different places in New York on them!

Overseas in Afghanistan, all hell had broken loose. Jay and Mouse were in the same unit again, which was great, but what wasn't so great was what happened with his Humvee. The Humvee had hit an IED and left Jay and Mouse as the only two survivors. Jay was trying to do his job the best he could, but he wasn't sleeping, the images of that day etched in his mind and always there, even when his eyes were closed.

In the northeastern part of the US, Will was procrastinating all his homework--but somehow still turning it in on time and doing well on exams--while he worked long, unpaid hours at a hospital, learning everything there was to know about treating patients and performing surgery. He was also partying a lot in his spare time. He had seen one of his professors, Yates, at a party, so that was weird and freaked him out. A grown man partying with his students? Why? But, Will had more important things going on to worry about than why the hell one of his professors was at a big ass house party.

Back at home, your mom was crying and you had asked her what was wrong, but she told you not to worry about it. Despite that, you were worried. You had never seen your mom cry like this. She didn't even cry this much when Jay and Will left!

"Mom?" you asked when you got home from school to see her sitting at the kitchen table crying.

She frantically wiped away her tears to try and play off that nothing was wrong. You looked down at the stack of papers in front of her and noticed that one said something about a will. There wasn't an "a" in front of Will's name! He was just Will!

"Mom! They messed up Will's name! See? I'll fix it!" You picked up the pen next to you and uncapped it.

"No!" your mom yelled.

"Why? It's wrong."

"I'm sorry, baby. These are just really important papers that you can't write on, okay? They're adult papers."

"Will and Jay are adults?" you asked, your eyes going wide. No, they weren't; your mom still called them her baby boys.

"They are!" She laughed at your expression.

"When will I be an adult?"

"You've got nine years yet, baby. You have to wait until you're-- until you're eighteen," she stuttered, trying not to get choked up as she realized that she probably wouldn't be here when you turned eighteen. If the doctors were right, she wouldn't even be here for your tenth birthday.

"Mom, why are you crying?" You sat in the kitchen chair next to her and looked up at her with curiosity in your eyes.

Now was as good a time as any, your mom thought to herself. Both Will and Jay knew and Jay said he'd be home any time now since he had been honorably discharged between the Humvee and IED incident and your mom getting sick.

"Sweetie, mom's really sick," she told you.

You cocked your head to the side. "So, you just need to go to the hospital or get Will to fix you up."

"I wish it were that simple, baby. But, the sickness is way inside my body and is moving around too much to have Will fix it."

"But can't they go inside with those fancy tools that Jay's scared of?"

"It's not as simple as going in with a few needles, baby."

"But what about that yucky stuff you give me?" you asked, referring to the grape flavored medicine.

You heard the door open. "The important thing is that I'm okay right now. I'll just be a little tired and we might have to go to the hospital soon."

"Mom? You here?"

"Jay!" you yelled and ran to the living room, the emotional talk with your mom long forgotten the moment you heard your older brother's voice.

"Y/N!" Jay yelled, matching your enthusiasm as he crouched down and opened his arms wide.

"I missed you!" you told him as you squeezed him tightly.

"I missed you, too! Now, is Mom here?" he asked as he stood back up.

You grabbed his hand. "She's here. Did you know she's sick, Jay?"

You led him to the kitchen, where your mom was still sitting at the table.

Jay glanced over at the paper sitting in front of your mom. He swallowed as it all quickly became real for him.

His mom was dying and he was home. But, his older brother wasn't. Will was off partying while their mom was dying.

***

"No, chocolate's better than vanilla," you argued as you and Jay both walked the short walk home holding your ice cream cones.

"No, vanilla's better. You're just a weirdo. Now, how about you eat your ice cream before it melts and drips on you and you get all sticky?"

It was the first day of May and Jay had been home since February. Your mom's condition was rapidly deteriorating as the cancer spread throughout her body. You had noticed she had been more tired than usual and that your dad hadn't been as excited to watch you at soccer practice. He didn't even want to come with you and Jay when you went to the ice cream shop today. It was opening day for the season, and it was a Halstead tradition that the whole family go get ice cream together. And, Jay wasn't going to let his dad wreck that for you, so he took you.

Jay had finished his ice cream and you were at the bottom of your cone when you walked up the front porch steps.

"You're just going to give up, Amelia? You do know that's what this is right?"

Luckily for you, you were so focused on finishing your ice cream, that you didn't hear the yelling between your mom and dad right away. But, Jay did.

"Hey, Y/N?" you looked up from your cone at your older brother. "How about you go grab your soccer ball from the garage and I'll get some water bottles and we can go to the park and practice for your game on Saturday, how does that sound?"

"So I can get better at stealing the ball from the other team?" you asked.

"Yup. Now, let's hurry up, okay?"

"Okay!"

As soon as your back was turned and you ran off to the garage in search of your soccer ball, Jay entered the house.

"Pat, that's not what this is and you know it!" Amelia argued, using what little strength she had after chemo to stand up.

"Then what is it?" Pat roared.

"I don't want Y/N to see me deteriorate!"

Jay rushed into his parents' bedroom. His mom was clutching the bedpost as if her life depended on it.

"Mom," he started, causing both his parents to focus their attention on him. "How about you sit down? You're tired."

"Jay, will you get me the phone please?" she asked, still standing.

"Amelia, you are not making that call!"

"It is my life! You are not taking this last big decision away from me!" Her voice softened. "Jay, sweetheart, the phone please."

"What's going on?"

"Your mom wanting to stay at the hospital is what's going on," Pat spat.

"Mom, no. You- you can't. Stay here. Please," he begged. He knew this was the last straw. Staying in the hospital likely meant she'd die there. She only had a limited time left. And, he wanted her to be here, at home with him. He had missed so much when he was away in Afghanistan. He just wanted more time of her staying home, of them being a normal family, despite her battling cancer with all her might.

"It'll be better for me there, Jay. They can give me painkillers and probably other things to help me feel better."

Jay hated it, but his mom was right. It probably was what was best for her.

"Okay, I'll get you the phone."

He walked into the kitchen to grab the phone and walked back to the bedroom to give it to his mom.

He reached out his hand to hand it to her, but it hit the floor with a thud.

"Dad! What the hell?" Jay yelled.

"You know what! She's staying here, Jayson!"

"Last I checked, it was mom's decision, not yours! And, she said she wants to go to the hospital! Respect that!"

"Like you and her respected what I had to say when you wanted to leave for the army? You didn't respect what I had to say then, so why should I respect what she's saying now?"

"Because she's your wife and she's dying!" Jay yelled. "You're stressing her out and stress is bad for her."

He picked up the phone and went to hand it to his mom. She took it.

Pat reached out his hand, but Jay stopped him. "You touch her or that phone, and I will lay you out where you stand. It's mom's decision."

"You'd really hit your old man?"

"Try me."

There was silence for a moment before Pat turned. "I'm going for a drive. I'll be back later."

"You didn't have to do that, you know," Amelia said to her son once Pat was out of the room.

"You did the same thing for me when I left to go to the army. You respected my decisions, so I'm respecting yours, Mom."

"When did you grow up so much?" A tear rolled down her cheek.

Jay sat down next to her. "Army will do that to you."

"Jay? You ready?" Jay heard you call for him.

"I'll be right there, Y/N!" he hollered back. Then, he turned back to his mom. "I was gonna take Y/N to the park, but I can stay here if you want me to?"

"No, go, Jay. You're a good brother. Promise me you'll watch over her when I'm gone?"

"Mom don't say--"

"Promise me. She needs you, both you and Will to look out for her. Who knows how your dad will get through all this. She needs her big brothers."

"I promise, Mom."

"Jay?" he heard you yell for him from outside.

"Be right there!" he yelled back.

After grabbing and filling up two water bottles, he walked outside to be met with your puzzled face. "What's wrong?"

"Why'd dad leave?" you asked, holding the soccer ball under your arm.

"Uh," Jay faltered. No way in hell was he going to be the one to explain this to you. Him leaving for the military, yeah, he could explain that one. But your guys' mom dying and telling you that she was going to the hospital because the end was near? Yeah, not gonna happen. He'd leave that to someone else...someone that was not him. "He's running a few errands," Jay answered.

"Oh, okay. Can Ben come to the park with us, too?" you asked.

Ben was your best friend and also your neighbor. Jay had dated his older sister before he left to fight the bad guys far away. Sometimes, when Jay had to babysit you, Allie would come over and bring Ben. And then, you'd get lots and lots of candy and get to watch movies for a bit. And, they'd promise you both Mcdonald's if neither you nor Ben said that Allie had come over. It always worked. You didn't know what the two teenagers were doing, but all you knew was that you got french fries and candy out of it, so both you and Ben had kept your mouths shut...despite it being against both your parents' rules to have a boyfriend or girlfriend over when they weren't home.

"You know what, I think that's a great idea," Jay answered. And then, you made your way to the Corson's and then to the park, thinking nothing of it.

***

Jay was sitting in the hospital room, clutching his mother's hand, just wondering how his life had turned out like this. Will was almost to the hospital; he'd gotten a last-minute flight from New York to Chicago, knowing that that would be faster than driving. Your dad was picking you up from school an hour early on a Friday. But right now, right now Jay was alone. And his mom, well she was still here, but he knew it wouldn't be for long. He knew that she was sleeping right now, and he wanted that for her because at least she wouldn't be awake to feel the pain of death, but at the same time, God, he wanted her to wake up. He wanted her to wake up so bad. He wanted to tell her that she was the best mom in the world. He wanted to tell her that he should never have had gone to Afghanistan, that maybe Dad was right, maybe he should've stayed in the States. Maybe he should've stayed in Chicago. He should've stayed home, just so that he could have had those three missed years with his mom. So that there could've been those extra two years before Will went to med school where the five of the Halsteads would be a real family. Because, in a matter of hours, hell in a matter of minutes, the Halsteads would dwindle down to a family of four forever. And, then, when Will left to go back to New York, it would dwindle down to three, at least for the time being.

Damn it. He just wanted more time. More time with his mom. He'd give anything for just a little more time.

"Jay! Jay! How is she?" Will burst into the quiet hospital room looking more worse for wear than normal. He had just gotten off an eighteen-hour shift of his med school rotation when he had gotten the call from his dad to get to Chicago as soon as possible. He found the first available flight--not caring about cost--and left, not even glancing at the clothes he threw in a duffle bag.

"Shhh!" Jay hissed at his older brother. "She's sleeping. And, shouldn't you know from your fancy schooling that as long as those monitors are still beeping, that she's still alive? Or did you just get too drunk and not even study and leave me to deal with dad and a very distraught and scared Y/N?"

"Man, you know I stopped doing that once I started working long shifts at the hospital!" Will whisper-yelled, trying to keep his voice down.

Jay sighed. "I'm sorry. We can deal with this later."

"You said Y/N's scared. What's she actually doing?"

Jay swallowed, trying to hold back the tears of what you'd been asking him those last two and a half weeks. "Um, every morning when she wakes up, she asks me if Mom went to heaven when she's sleeping. And then- And then before she leaves for school, she tells me to tell Mom she loves her if I go to see her."

Will rubbed a hand down his face. He didn't know what to say. He knew he should've been in Chicago for his little brother and sister, but he hadn't been. And, he couldn't change the past now. And, he knew he couldn't stay in Chicago after the funeral. It was no use telling Jay and you that he could stay; it'd just be an empty promise.

"William," Amelia's hoarse and groggy voice broke through the silence.

Will rushed to the opposite side of the bed to grab his mom's hand, the one that had the pulse-ox on it. "Mom, I'm here. I'm here."

"I need to- I need to tell..."

"Here, Mom." Will held the water cup with a straw in front of his mom. "Drink a bit. Please."

Amelia obliged and listened to her oldest son. After all, he was going to be a doctor one day. And, she hoped a damn good one at that.

"Thank you, baby," she said once she had taken a few sips. "My ring."

"What about your wedding ring, Mom?" Jay prompted.

"It's not a race...but whoever finds...the right girl first...gets it."

"Mom, don't say that," Will choked out. "You'll be okay. Everything will be fine."

Jay wanted to scoff. Leave it to Will to say that. He wasn't the one sitting in the hospital every damn day just watching their mom deteriorate and waiting for the inevitable.

"But, I'm supposed to wait until Sunday," you told your dad as you entered the hospital room, clutching the present you had made in art class for Mother's Day.

"I think it's close enough. And, it'll make Mom super happy," your dad answered you.

You nodded, the clay heart clutched in your hand. "Will!"

"Hey, kiddo."

"I missed you."

"I missed you, too. Now, what about this mother's day present? Why don't you come over here and give it to mom?" God, he didn't know how he did it, how he talked to his little sister like this was just a normal day and their mom wasn't minutes away from leaving them forever. He thought that his time working in a hospital and watching doctors and nurses deliver devastating news to families might have something to do with it, though.

"Mom." You stood on your tip-toes so that you could fully see her since her bed was tipped so that she was in a semi-sitting position.

"Yes...baby?" she asked, her voice no more than a whisper.

"I made this for you. I'm supposed to give it to you on Sunday since that's when Mother's Day is, but Dad said I can give it to you now." You passed the ceramic heart which was painted a shade of lavender and had I love you, Mom carved into it in your messy third-grader handwriting. "Do you like it?"

"I love...it, baby...I'll...cherish it...forever."

"I love you, Mommy." You hadn't called her Mommy in years. But, you knew it always made her happy when you called her that. Maybe, this would make her feel happy.

"Where's...Dad?" she asked weakly.

"He had to go to the bathroom," you answered.

"I love...you...my three...babies."

The sound of the monitor flatlining filled the room. Jay let out an agonizing scream, one unlike you had ever heard before.

"No," Will sobbed. You'd never seen him do that before. He always tried to be the big brother who didn't cry. Both your big brothers did.

Will wanted to start chest compressions, but he knew they'd be no use.

"Mommy," you whispered, shaking her shoulder. You knew it was no use, but maybe, just maybe she'd wake up. "Mommy, come back. Please."

"She's gone, Y/N," Jay said. "She's not coming back."

"Jay!" Will yelled.

"She needs to know that! Mom's gone, dammit!"

Jay slid down the wall, his anger, sadness, frustration, all of it, getting the best of him and he cried. Sobs racked his body.

He heard whispering near him and vaguely made out that Will was telling you that Jay didn't mean to sound so mean. And, then, he felt a pair of little arms wrap around him.

"Jay Jay," you whispered.

And that just made Jay cry harder.

Will came over and joined the hug, all three of you sobbing.

You heard a gasp and the sound of someone running into the room. Then, you heard a blood-curdling scream, the sound of a husband losing his wife way too soon.

The ceramic heart you had made for your mom fell to the floor, finally becoming too heavy to stay put in her lifeless hand now that there was no grip left. It shattered into sharp, lavender pieces, much like your real hearts. Despite still beating, they may as well stop, too. Because, just like how that ceramic heart would never be whole again, without your mom, your heart would never be whole again either.

***

Jay's age: 24

Your age: 10

It had been about a year since your mom had died. Day by day everything was getting easier. But, a part of you was missing, and you'd come to accept that it'd never be filled. Jay moved out right after your mom died and you'd see him sometimes. He worked different hours now since he was a police officer. But, even if you wanted to watch one more movie with him at his apartment, he wouldn't let you and he'd never let you spend the night. He'd always bring you back home to your dad.

You were in bed, Beary laying next to you since you had let go of him in your sleep, when you were woken up by the sound of sirens.

You located Beary from beside you and walked out into the hallway. The light was on as you still didn't like it when you woke up to go to the bathroom and it was dark. So, you walked to your dad's bedroom and pushed to door open.

"Dad," you whispered as you placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Hmmm?" he asked, opening his eyes. "What's wrong, honey?"

Since your mom died, you and your dad had grown a lot closer. You'd always watch hockey games with him and he'd come to every single one of your soccer games and take you out for a snack after. He always made sure he was home from work before it got too late so that he could help you with your homework and make sure you weren't scared of a thunderstorm at night. He was the dad that Will and Jay never had. He just hated that it took the death of his wife for him to become a better father.

"Why- Why are there police officers at Ben's house?"

"Police officers? At the Corsons?" your dad asked.

"Yeah, from my window I saw the flashing lights. What's going on?"

"Just give me a minute and we'll go see if they need anything, okay?" he asked, not knowing there was crime scene tape everywhere.

Once your dad was ready, you walked outside, holding tight to his hand and to Beary.

"Uh, yeah, tender-age male. From the looks of it raped and possible cause of death being asphyxiation."

You had no idea what anything he was saying meant, but you knew that Jay was the one who was talking. He was here! Maybe he'd know what was going on! And, maybe he'd know where Ben was, because, from the people around, you hadn't spotted Ben yet.

"Jay!" You let go of your dad's hand and ran towards him, ducking under the bright yellow crime scene tape.

"Shit," he muttered as he ran towards you, trying to block your best friend's body from your view.

But, he was too late.

"B-Ben?"

Jay grabbed you and pulled you close to him so that his body was blocking you from seeing the body any more than you already had. But, he knew that it was no use; the image of your best friend laying in the grass with a rope tied around his neck and duck tape on his mouth and wrists, pants on backward and shirt haphazardly threw on, would forever be etched in your mind.

"Ben!" you wailed.

"I'm gonna take her back to the house. You got it from here and I'll meet you back at the station?" you heard Jay say to who you assumed was his partner.

"Yeah, who is she?"

"My little sister. Kid was her best friend."

"Take as much time as you need, Halstead. I'll tell the sergeant that you might not be back tonight."

"Thank you."

Your dad stayed with Danny and Gail, while Jay brought you home.

"Do you want some water?" Jay asked quietly as you entered the house.

You shook your head. "What happened?"

"Maybe when you're older I can explain, okay?"

"So, he's with Mom now?" you asked, looking into his teary eyes.

"Yeah, he's with Mom now. She'll look after him." He pulled you into a hug. "I love you, kid. You're my favorite sister."

"I'm your only sister, Jay."

"That's why you're my favorite."

Jay took a deep breath as he held you tight. That could've easily been you laying on the ground instead of Ben.

After that night, any day that Jay didn't have to work in the mornings, he'd walk you to school. He did that for the rest of the year. He never told you why; he'd only say that he wanted to spend time with his little sister and sometimes he'd even bring you a donut. But, you knew it had something to do with Ben...and the fact that the person who hurt him had never been found.

You weren't supposed to know that information, but you figured it would've been on the news if they found the person who did it. After all, the case was on the news when it first happened.

Little did you and Jay know, that it would be three years until justice would be served and that Jay would almost lose his badge over it.

A/N: Hey, sorry this took me so long to post! It took me a while to write since most of the scenes were sad. Anyway, as I mentioned at the beginning, this will be a series, so look for the next installment! Those will be better because the age will be when Y/N's a teenager...and I write those a lot better than I do when I have to write times when Y/N is a kid.

Thanks for reading and please feel free to comment! It gives me so much motivation to continue writing!

#jay halstead #will halstead #jay halstead imagine #will halstead imagine #jay halstead fanfiction #will halstead fanfiction #Halstead Bros #halstead sister #halstead sister imagine #halstead brothers #chicago pd #chicago med #chicago pd imagine #chicago med imagine

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years

Text

Cult Girl: Doctorate (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 4

Will

Cult girl attends her grandmother's funeral and is approached with a highly unorthodox last will and testament.

@wisesandwichshark

Trigger warnings: emotional manipulation and abuse, verbal abuse, death, slight emetophobia, body-shaming, ED mention, pregnancy and family planning

There was no use recounting anything from the leading up to the funeral. You spent that first night wine-drunk, munching on foie gras, watching Arrested Development and diagnosing each character to the best of your psychological abilities. You remembered cry-laughing at the same jokes you had memorized, and reminiscing on all the insane shit your own personal Lucille Bluth pulled on you. That was the highlight of the week. It was all downhill from there.

Firstly, you were sick. That Sunday, you wrote it off as a hangover. Then, the hangover returned with a vengeance, just to add salt to the already open wound of having to pretend to mourn your abusive grandmother. At least the physical pain would give your acting an air of sincerity, you thought.

Hannibal dressed in a solid black tux: it was almost uncanny to see him outside of any of his normal checkered suits. You selected a plain black dress and a strand of pearls.

The funeral was to be held at the same country club Anna’s wedding was held. Your grandmother was like a pharaoh, insisting that the empire she built know that even in death, she reigned supreme. The country club was her pyramid.

Anna asked if you wanted to say a few words. As much as you wanted to get up and tell all her country club friends about the time she reported you as an abducted child at age twenty-two when you refused to leave your boyfriend and move back in with her, you knew that it wasn’t in good taste. You racked your brain for any story that could be considered remotely funeral-appropriate, but none came to mind.

You spent the entire funeral trying not to roll your eyes too obviously at the stories of abuse her country club friends somehow remembered fondly. Your soul just left your body throughout the entire process and you were unsure if it would ever return.

All things considered, it could have gone much worse. Then, it did.

The beginning of the end was when your grandmother’s estate lawyer pulled you and Anna aside to conduct the reading of the will. He showed you to a side room, then excused himself before closing the door behind him.

“Hello, [F/N].” Liam greeted, trying to cut through the awkward silence that came with first seeing each other after four straight years. “I’m very sorry about your gran. She was a great woman.”

You gave him a smile that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “Thanks, Lee. I appreciate it.”

“No she doesn’t.” Anna muttered. “And it’s Liam.”

“I don’t mind ‘Lee’.” Liam contested. “My mum called me Lee. I actually quite like it.”

Anna was in one of her ‘I’m so upset, please ask me why’ moods. She sat on one of the heavy armchairs with her legs crossed and eyes to the wall. You weren’t going to bite.

Liam wasn’t so cautious. “Princess, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” She pouted, not even dignifying her husband with a look. “I just think it’s interesting that I put the funeral together all by myself and someone couldn’t even be bothered to speak.”

You shot Liam a look that said ‘way to go, jackass’.

“Yeah,” You said, sitting down in an adjacent armchair. “That must suck.”

Anna glared at you. “You really have nothing to say? Really?”

You tensed up. “Let’s see, which charming anecdote would you have me tell? How about that time when she made you wear a fat suit for an hour after you complained about how the low-carb ice cream tasted like chemicals?”

Liam looked in shock at his wife. “Did she really?”

“Once.” Anna confessed, holding up one finger.

You turned to Liam, as if you were sharing some hot gossip. “That was all it took to give her an eating disorder when she was thirteen.”

Hannibal was just a fly on the wall. Anna noticed his lack of reaction.

“And I bet Hannibal knows all about this, huh?” Anna said, throwing her hand in his direction. “Because he just needs to hear all of our private family business, right?”

You stood up from your seat. “First of all, I take offense at the implication that my fiancée isn’t family.”

An evil smile spread on Anna’s face. “But he wasn’t always your fiancé, was he, [F/N]?”

“Holy shit, you cracked the code.” You said, flatly. “There was a point in time when Hannibal and I weren’t an item. Real shocker, that one.”

“You know what I mean.” She sneered, then approached Hannibal. “Dr. Lecter, is it true that before you and [F/N] became romantically involved, you were her therapist?”

Liam looked scandalized. Hannibal was just as put-together as always.

“That is true.” He said, feeling no shame whatsoever.

Anna turned back to you. “Now don’t you think that’s just a smidge unethical? For a therapist to date their much younger patient?”

You narrowed your eyes. You carried yourself with the lightness of a woman who finally had the moral high ground. “So you want to talk about what’s ethical, huh? I suppose that means you’ve told Liam about pineapple.”

All the blood drained from her face. You crossed your arms and held your head up a little higher.

“That’s what I thought.” You grinned.

“Look, could we just pretend to be a normal, functioning family for ten minutes?” Anna pleaded, as if there were anyone other than herself to blame for provoking an argument.

“That’s on you two.” Liam, rightfully, pointed out. He gestured to himself and then to Hannibal. “Neither of us have said anything.”

The estate lawyer must have gotten his juris doctorate alongside a master's in impeccable fucking timing, because that was when he decided to make his entrance.

"I'm sorry for the wait, everyone." He announced. "And I'm sorry for having to pull you aside in your hour of mourning. Usually the last will and testament is handled through email to the beneficiaries, but your grandmother was quite adamant it be approached this way."

"That definitely sounds like her." You said, exchanging glances with Hannibal. You'd talked about this for what felt like hours the week prior. She was going to pull some last-minute bullshit to humiliate you from beyond the grave. Give all the inheritance to Anna and leave a snide comment about you in a legal document. You knew it was coming. All you could hope was for it to be quick.

The lawyer pulled an envelope from his briefcase. "She specifically asked for her two living grandchildren and their significant others to be present."

"Did she say it like that?" Anna raised an eyebrow. "Or was it more like, 'Anna and her husband, and [F/N] and her therapist'?"

"Mrs. Young," Hannibal said, taking your hand. "Until you tell your husband about pineapple, you aren't allowed to judge us."

Anna glared at you. "What the hell? He knows, too?!"

"Yeah." You answered. "I tell him everything."

"Okay, who or what is pineapple?" Liam interjected. "And why do I get the feeling I'm the only one not in the know, here?"

"That's cause you are." You confirmed. "And you have your lovely wife to thank for that."

"Everyone!" The lawyer called out. Clearly, he'd seen his share of dysfunctional families. "Please, let me just read the will and you can continue arguing afterwards."

"Y'know what? Fair enough." You said, crossing your legs. "Let's rip off this band-aid, shall we?"

The lawyer opened the envelope and produced a single page. He cleared his throat.

"I, Beatrice [L/N], being of sound mind and body, do hereby bequeath all my worldly possessions-" He began reading the long first sentence. "Including but not limited to, a collective sum of $45 million, the family home and my shares of the country club, to the first of my granddaughters to give birth."

You expected nothing. You expected something. But you never could have expected this.

"Can you please read that last part again?" You asked, unsure if what you heard was the result of a stroke.

"The entire inheritance goes to the first one of you to have a baby." The lawyer clarified, trying to make it sound like a reasonable arrangement.

"That makes sense." Anna said, nodding.

You looked at her, dumbfounded. "How in the fuck on fire does that make sense to you?"

"Well, the money would be going to a good cause." She rationalized. "To raise the baby, right?"

You shook your head. "No, this is insane. Grandma has always had this weird obsession with bloodlines, and now she's trying to incentivize us to carry it out."

"What happens if neither of us can, y'know?" Anna asked.

The lawyer pushed his glasses up his nose. "If neither granddaughter is willing to produce a child, the entire inheritance will go to the Eagle Forum, so my ungrateful grandchildren can learn about family values."

"She hated the Eagle Forum!" Anna objected. "She wouldn't dare."

"She absolutely would." You pressed your fingers into your forehead. "That's upper-class white moderates for you. And she doesn't have to be around to see when they name a fucking wing after her."

"The Beatrice [L/N] center for denying women bodily autonomy." Hannibal said. "It's quite fitting."

"[F/N], we can't let that happen." Anna pleaded. "We can't let Eagle Forum get a penny of that money."

"Why the hell not?" You said. Though on principle, you agreed, you knew this was just another one of your grandmother's power grabs. At the end of the day, she chose to leave her money to the Eagle Forum. And it would be her name on that check, not yours.

"Oh my god, you actually hate babies more than you hate conservatives." Anna stood with her mouth agape.

"Don't put words in my mouth." You snapped. "I don't hate babies. I hate grandma for trying to threaten me into having one. I hate grandma for pinning us against each other and making sure it stays that way."

"What do you have against giving me a little niece or nephew, huh?" Anna folded her arms.

"I'm fucking done." You said, throwing up your hands. "This will be the last you ever see of me."

Of course, that's what you said the last time.

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x you #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #more cult girl #cult girl #cult girl 2 #tw pregnancy #tw emotional abuse #tw death #tw conservatives

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plainlo-inthemorning · 3 years

Text

A Loki TVA/Lokane fic. Rating T.

Previously: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (of 6)

Shine a Light, part 5

He is aware that the love of his life is digging her fingers into his arm and saying his name.

He is aware of Stark standing to his other side, visor off, speaking to someone on the phone. His voice is hard.

But most of all, Loki is aware that all their lives were just changed by a great big terrifying rip in the seam of reality.

Neither Jane nor the Avenger could possibly be completely sure of what they saw. Loki, as much as he desperately wants to, harbors little doubt.

The man he held in a death-grip only minutes ago and who just now disappeared through a doorway conjured out of thin air was somehow … himself.

Another him. Just as the man had said.

After witnessing from afar the double kiss Jane, Loki, who was coming back from a swim, had been more than ready to skip past introductions and just sever the intruder’s head from his body.

But as soon as he had laid hands on him, a torrent of images had flooded his mind – chaotic, confused images that seemed to span past, present, future and beyond.

The shock had made him lessen his grip and the double had used his (his!) magic to throw him off.

With some distance between them and Stark suddenly there as well, Loki had tried to let his rage quell the dizzying realization. Unsuccessfully.

He is still shaking, clutching a dagger in each hand. He drew them instinctively as the other made for the door.

He should have caught him!

“Loki! What did he say?!”

“What?” His thoughts are racing in too many directions to hear her.

“The … man, what was he saying to you?!”

Jane is looking up at him with those beautiful brown eyes, worry and urgency all over her delicate features. Though not fear, Loki notes. His ever-brave wife. Both her hands are now clamped around his wrist.

That thing kissed her.

The daggers disappear and Loki wraps both arms around the mother of his unborn child, almost crushing her to his chest while still staring at the spot where the double vanished.

“It’s okay. It’s okay, love”, he murmurs. He suspects things are very much not okay.

So does Jane, of course.

“Loki, was it … oof, not so tight … “

She wriggles against him, and he remembers his amor. And her condition. He immediately relaxes his arms a bit while letting the leather and metal melt back into the clothes he wore before: Black jeans and a fitted, dusty green t-shirt (his “rockstar outfit”, Jane had called it, when Loki first started switching up his human wardrobe some years ago now). Drops of saltwater still cling to the ends of his slightly curly raven locks.

“Tony! Jane, Loki! What on Earth was that?”

Pepper jumps out of the car parked in front of the house and runs towards them. She must have seen everything as she drove down the road following her flying husband.

“The verdict’s still out, Peps”. Tony nods at Loki. “You wanna chip in here? I just called the boy-scout at headquarters and told him to be on guard for one of the magician’s interns playing a prank”.

Loki shakes his head slowly.

“Unfortunately, I don’t think Stephen had anything to do with this”.

“You’re right, I didn’t”.

All four of them turn around to see the sorcerer step out of a swirling ring of light, his cape billowing around him. The mahogany floor and paneled walls of his Manhattan mansion are briefly visible behind him before the portal closes with a hiss of little sparks.

Strange is wearing an even sterner expression than usual which only adds to Loki’s growing sense of dread.

Tony, however, groans loudly.

“Dude, really? Couldn’t you at least have let us have dinner before party crashing? Not shaming your bachelor lifestyle or anything, but this was couples’ night!”

“Tony!” Pepper hits her husband on the arm.

Strange ignores him.

“I’m afraid the arrival of your surprise visitor indicates that a set of … unfortunate events have been set in motion”.

As always, his voice is as even as if he was reading the weather forecast, but by now Loki has learned to differentiate the (very) subtle nuances between scorn and sincerity. Strange places his hands behind his back and regards them coolly. “I’ve had Wong reach out to Doctor Banner and director Fury. They should be here shortly. Stark, you may want to-”.

Tony narrows his eyes, lip twitching.

“Hey, Bleeker Street, you know I have low tolerance for you showing up and barking orders without giving two f**** for context. How did you even know that something was going down here? By all means, don’t keep us in suspense until the cavalry gets here”.

Strange doesn’t answer, but the way his eyes dart to Jane sends needles through Loki’s heart.

“Let’s go sit down, shall we?” With one eyebrow raised, Strange puts on a suave smile and gestures towards the house. The effect is a little startling.

Jane ducks out from under Loki’s arms. “Jane, don’t you want to-“. She brushes him off.

“Yes, good idea, Stephen. Let’s go sit down”. She motions for Strange to follow. “Welcome to our home. I was actually making drinks before, but I think I need to add a bit more kick to them…”

Her voice is oddly calm, and Loki fights the urge to grab her and magic them both far, far away, not caring that she would be furious with him for making decisions on her behalf.

He’s brought back to the present by an even odder sound as Strange actually chuckles.

Loki is not sure he’s ever heard it before. Then again, it’s not that he really knows Strange when it comes down to it. Like Tony, Loki finds the wizard exceedingly arrogant.

Pepper is the first to follow Jane and Strange across the lawn while Loki and Tony hang back.

“Real ladies’ man when he wants to. Who would have thought”. The billionaire superhero scoffs. His suit has folded itself off and into a briefcase next to his feet.

“Tony-“

“Uh oh. First name basis. So this really is an emergency”.

Loki faces his friend. Often in the past years, as they’ve grown steadily closer outside of “work”, he has secretly marveled at how long they’ve come since someone threw someone else off a building after being called a diva.

And attacking a city with an alien army.

Jane always insisted the two “hotheads” (her word) had a lot in common when not trying to murder one another (be it with weapons or sarcastic commentary), and Loki has to admit she was right. The metal man is fiercely intelligent, and Loki has been enjoying the quick-witted snark between them infinitely more than he ever valued the company of Thor’s band of gullible warrior groupies on Asgard.

“Well?”. Tony is regarding him with eyebrows raised, expectant. “Give me your take on this cause I’m starting to put together some rather outlandish theories myself here that I’m kinda hoping you’ll thwart ASAP”.

Loki draws in a deep breath.

“That thing with Banner at the tower two years ago-“

“Fuck!” Tony exhales, exasperated. “I knew you were gonna say that”. He squints into the distance towards the ocean, his mouth a tight line. It’s a rare day that Tony Stark is caught under a clear blue sky without sunglasses but for once he doesn’t seem to notice.

Loki takes a step closer to him and lowers his voice so they won’t alert the others just yet.

“I told you then and you didn’t want to listen! Everything about Bruce’s story was off. I know he didn’t remember much after Steve took him down, but you all pretty much accused me of trying to get back at him for, well, you know what, and I kept telling you I thought someone had gotten to him! Now-“

Loki searches for the words. It’s beyond absurd.

“That man was a version of me, Tony. I have no idea how, but I felt it. I saw into his mind. It was filled with images from my past and then … other, recent memories. Dark ones. He came from nowhere. Literally. It didn’t feel like a place. I tried to discard it as a trick, you saw that, but…” Loki runs his hand through his moist hair. “Stephen obviously felt something tear open too. And that is not a good sign”.

He has Tony’s full attention.

“Tear open? Could this other you be associated with your old boss? With Thanos?”

Loki winces.

“No, I don’t think he’s involved”, he says sharply. “But I can’t be sure …”

Tony catches his tone pats his shoulder. “Okay, okay. Shake it off. Didn’t mean to suggest anything. Let’s say he’s not. I’d much prefer that, at least until the wizard presents us with an even uglier imminent threat to the universe. Which, judging by the fact that he’s even here, willingly sipping cocktails in your kitchen as we speak, he probably will”.

Tony throws his hands up with a dramatic air.

“And here I thought the most challenging part of this weekend would be to convince you two to come see Hamilton with us in the city next week!”

“Who’s-“

“Never mind. Did you get a look at that gadget your guy was holding? Boy, he looked like an office slave who’d slept under his desk for a month before getting fired, didn’t he? Were you ever into accounting yourself by any chance?”

Loki shuts his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. Immediately he sees the image of the double kissing Jane, his arms wrapped firmly around her supple body. Rage rushes right back through him and his eyes snap open.

“Stark - I can’t. But yes, I did notice the device. It looked like a phone”.

“Yeah, somehow I don’t think it was the new iPhone”.

Tony shakes his head.

“The two of us and we didn’t take him down. Fury’s gonna have our badges”.

The director of SHIELD and Bruce Banner arrive barely 15 minutes later through a portal in the middle of the meadow-like lawn, following Wong and both looking grim and out of place as they weave around patches of wildflowers to reach the porch.

“Gentlemen, I trust you’re well”. Loki greets the trio with an only vaguely sarcastic nod as he holds open the screen doors to them, like a good host. Despite what some may still think, he can behave.

He could have just used magic of course, but he figures Banner is freaked enough as it is just by being here. The scientist hasn’t spoken more than five words to him since 2014 and at least three of them were expletives.

Once inside the small living room, Bruce goes to stand by the window and busies himself polishing his glasses with a little too much vigor than seems warranted.

He avoids Loki’s eyes but looks up and smiles wearily as Jane comes over to say hello.

Fury leans against the doorframe to the hallway and crosses his arms, face a closed book, and, by the sound of it, Tony is going through the cabinets in the kitchen trying to find something to spice up Jane’s pre-dinner cocktails.

Pepper is talking to Strange and Wong on the blue IKEA couch (assembled by magic after the attempt to go at it “as a team” turned into a shouting match), and Loki is about to politely ask Strange to please spit it out right this minute, when Jane is next to him, taking his hand.

“We need to talk. Now”.

Her voice is low and steady but her eyes insisting. She squeezes his fingers.

He squeezes back. “Come”.

Loki looks to Fury but he’s focused on Strange who’s listening very closely to something Wong’s saying.

Not letting go of Jane’s hand, he turns towards the kitchen. In the doorway they pass Tony who’s now holding what appears to be a glass of scotch. He must have given up on the gin and tonics.

“Hey, where are you two going? Forget about playing hosts okay, let’s just get started with part two of the evening’s entertainment”.

“In a minute”.

Jane pushes past him, ignoring Tony’s look and dragging Loki with her.

She closes the door behind them.

“Okay, so…” Jane looks around nervously in the small kitchen with the rustic white fronts and old brass handles. She loves that kitchen. They haven’t changed a thing since moving in. Loki reaches for her, but she takes a step back. “Jane, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should have gotten there faster. Did he …“

“I need you tell me exactly what he said to you”.

She is absentmindedly opening and closing her fists in the way she does when that brilliant astrophysicist mind of hers is working out an intricate problem in the lab.

Or, Loki knows, when she’s about to deliver him bad news.

He clears his throat. “He said he was me. And that something big was happening”. There. “And then he said he was sorry”.

Jane studies his face.

“That he was sorry? For what?”

“He didn’t say. He stepped through the door”.

Jane is quiet and now it’s Loki’s turn to try and read her expression.

“What did he say to you? I assume he pretended to be me …?”

Jane holds up a hand and bites her lip. Loki swallows.

“Loki, when we were staying at the flat in London, after we defeated Malekith…”

“What?” Loki furrows his brow in confusion. “Why are we-“

“The poison from the monster’s blade, it had you slipping in and out of consciousness for days. You were so feverish…”

“Yes, I know. I was there”. Loki’s blood is slowly turning very cold, but he musters a smile. “And you were amazing, love. Although some might say you took adv-“

Jane interrupts him in the middle of his blossoming smirk. A slight blush appears on her own cheeks.

“Yes, um, it’s not about that day”. She gives him a stern look. “The other day, later, when Thor left after you two went and had your, um, talk … there’s something I need to tell you …”

The door to the living room opens behind them.

“Actually, if you don’t mind, Doctor Foster, I would very much like to hear this too”.

Stephen Strange steps into the kitchen. The door closes behind him.

Part 6

#loki #loki series #lokane #tva loki #loki fanfic #loki ff #lokane ff #lokane fanfic #loki x jane #jane foster #shine a light #plainlo inthemorning #doctor strange #stephen strange #tony stark

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kellyvela · 3 years

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Has GRRM ever said in any interview or on his blog that he hates Sansa's complete storyline after 4th season? I dont really follow all of his fan/media interactions but from what I can recall he has spoken abt how LF in books wont give sansa to ramsay or how noone had issue when Jeyne was given the Ramsay storyline in books etc. Asking this question to you bcs you rightly point out how ppl misunderstood his interviews/posts ( sansans/targ stans etc) & I cant recall him ever saying he 'hates' sansa's story in the later seasons of the show ( not s5 in particular but even s6 to s8).

Capclave 2013:

A change that has repercussions for season 4 is Marillion’s tongue removal from the first season. Martin said that the change was made (from an anonymous singer being the victim of a de-tonguing) because they wanted Joffrey to maim someone the audience would recognize. He believes this is an issue because of the part the singer plays in Sansa’s storyline, how he affects her interactions with others in the book, and he doesn’t believe another character will be fulfilling that role on Game of Thrones.

—GRRM talks season 4 & beyond - Winter is Coming - October 13, 2013

2014 Fan Reports about Capclave 2013 (*):

In a convention panel this year, George said on the record that he had no idea what they were doing with Sansa or where they’re taking her storyline, which now makes sense perhaps. He was not pleased when he was talking about it, so who knows what’s going to happen with her! Knowing GRRM, that could mean they’re going off the canon reservation, and/or that they’re going to be making a lot of shit up

I have notes I’ll be responding to (thanks!) but enough people commented about Sansa that I thought I’d share that tidbit, since it happened back in September iirc (was the same panel where he criticized the exclusion of Tyrell brothers)

—starkalypse - June 3, 2014

GRRM’s comments at capclave about Sansa (which I was in the third row for, for those asking about legitimacy) were among others during the panel that had a general theme of dissatisfaction with show changes. He was not in good spirits for that con and didn’t really have anything positive to say regarding the show. So take it with a grain of salt; there are deviations away from the books in the episodes he gets writers credit for, so maybe they’re doing something stupid or they really don’t have a gameplan!

—starkalypse - June 4, 2014

(*) These reports were posted in June 2014, during the airing of Game of Thrones Season 4, about Capclave 2013 that happened in October 2013.

Just after the rape episode:

How many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Three, in the novel. One, in the movie. None, in real life: she was a fictional character, she never existed. The show is the show, the books are the books; two different tellings of the same story.

There have been differences between the novels and the television show since the first episode of season one. And for just as long, I have been talking about the butterfly effect. Small changes lead to larger changes lead to huge changes. HBO is more than forty hours into the impossible and demanding task of adapting my lengthy (extremely) and complex (exceedingly) novels, with their layers of plots and subplots, their twists and contradictions and unreliable narrators, viewpoint shifts and ambiguities, and a cast of characters in the hundreds.

There has seldom been any TV series as faithful to its source material, by and large (if you doubt that, talk to the Harry Dresden fans, or readers of the Sookie Stackhouse novels, or the fans of the original WALKING DEAD comic books)… but the longer the show goes on, the bigger the butterflies become. And now we have reached the point where the beat of butterfly wings is stirring up storms, like the one presently engulfing my email.

Prose and television have different strengths, different weaknesses, different requirements.

David and Dan and Bryan and HBO are trying to make the best television series that they can.

And over here I am trying to write the best novels that I can.

And yes, more and more, they differ. Two roads diverging in the dark of the woods, I suppose… but all of us are still intending that at the end we will arrive at the same place.

In the meantime, we hope that the readers and viewers both enjoy the journey. Or journeys, as the case may be. Sometimes butterflies grow into dragons.

—The Show, the Books - Not A Blog - May 18, 2015

Report about the last Game of Thrones Script that GRRM wrote:

No Wedding for Sansa and Ramsay: Without question, one of the most controversial changes the show made in trying to streamline the books was by slotting Sansa into the role of Ramsay’s wife and rape victim in Season 5. In the books, Ramsay marries and assaults Sansa’s best childhood friend, Jeyne Poole—who is being forced to impersonate Arya—instead. (You can actually see Jeyne briefly sitting next to Sansa in the show’s pilot.)

At the time Martin wrote this script, though, substituting Sansa for Jeyne was not yet the plan. Martin has Roose Bolton tell his bastard son: “We have a much better match in mind for you. A match to help House Bolton hold the north. Arya Stark.” It should be noted, however, that in Martin’s script, Sansa isn’t free from menace either. At his own wedding-day breakfast, Joffrey still threatens to rape the older Stark sister—once he’s “gotten Margaery with child.”)

—Game of Thrones: The Secrets of George R.R. Martin’s Final Script - Vanity Fair - December 7, 2018

A month before the Game of Throne S8 Finale:

Sansa’s story, in particular, has really deviated from the books. Ramsay Bolton — that marriage obviously was with a different character. When they start deviating like that, did you initially have any emotional reaction, even though you worked in Hollywood for many years yourself?

GRRM: Well, yeah — of course you have an emotional reaction. I mean, would I prefer they do it exactly the way I did it? Sure. But I’ve been on the other side of it, too. I’ve adapted work by other people, and I didn’t do it exactly the way they did it, so ….

Some of the deviation, of course, is because I’ve been so slow with these books. I really should’ve finished this thing four years ago — and if I had, maybe it would be telling a different story here. It’s two variations of the same story, or a similar story, and you get that whenever anything is adapted. The analogy I’ve often used is, to ask how many children did Scarlett O’Hara have? Do you know the answer to that?

I know it’s different in the book and the movie …

GRRM: Three children in the book, one by each husband. She had one child in the movie. And in real life, of course, Scarlett O’Hara had no children, because she never existed. Margaret Mitchell made her up. The book is there. You can pick it up and read Mitchell’s version of it, or you can see the movie and see David Selznick’s version of it. I think they’re both true to the spirit of the work, and hopefully that’s also true of Game of Thrones on one hand, and A Song of Ice and Fire on the other hand.

—George R.R. Martin on the Stark Sisters and Ending ‘Game of Thrones’ - RollingStone - April 22, 2019

James Hibberd’s Book:

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: Jeyne Poole was included in the pilot—she’s shown giggling next to Sansa—but she’s never seen or referred to again. I actually wrote Jeyne into “The Pointy End,” my first script, when Arya killed the stableboy. I had some stuff with Jeyne running to Sansa being all hysterical and dialogue in the council chamber with Littlefinger saying, “Give her to me, I’ll make sure she doesn’t cause any trouble.” That was dropped.

DAVID BENIOFF: Sansa is a character we care about almost more than any other. We really wanted Sansa to play a major part in that season. If we were going to stay absolutely faithful to the book, it was going to be very hard to do that. There was a subplot we loved from the books, but it was a character not involved in the show.

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: I was trying to set up Jeyne for her future role as the false Arya. The real Arya has escaped and is presumed dead. But this girl has been in Littlefinger’s control for years, and he’s been training her. She knows Winterfell, has the proper northern accent, and can pose as Arya. Who the hell knows what a little girl you met two years ago looks like? When you’re a lord visiting Winterfell, are you going to pay attention to the little kids running around? So she can pull off the impersonation. Not having Jeyne, they used Sansa for that. Is that better or worse? You can make your decision there. Oddly, I never got pushback for that in the book because nobody cared about Jeyne Poole that much. They care about Sansa.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

GEORGE R. R. MARTIN: My Littlefinger would have never turned Sansa over to Ramsay. Never. He’s obsessed with her. Half the time he thinks she’s the daughter he never had—that he wishes he had, if he’d married Catelyn. And half the time he thinks she is Catelyn, and he wants her for himself. He’s not going to give her to somebody who would do bad things to her. That’s going to be very different in the books.

—Fire Cannot Kill a Dragon: Game of Thrones and the Official Untold Story of the Epic Series by James Hibberd - October 6, 2020

I hope it helps you.

Thanks for your message.

#sansa stark #grrm

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browniefox · 3 years

Text

The One with the Motorcycle

@wrightfamilyweek day 4 - Free day! Which I took to mean 'shove my headcanon here'. At first I wanted to do something with Ryuunosuke, but I still haven't finished tgaa so uhhhh sorry my boy. Also, you can find this on AO3 here.

In which Trucy and Phoenix decide they need to find a more reliable method of getting around. Luckily, Phoenix already has a vehicle registered under his name.

oOo

“Does this mean that when I turn sixteen, I’ll get a motorcycle license?”

Trucy skips alongside her Daddy as they walk through the aisles of the storage facility. They pass locked garage after garage. Trucy has always known that her Daddy had somewhere he stores a bunch of stuff that doesn’t fit in the office, the stuff he used to keep in his apartment back when he had one, but this is her first time coming along with him.

There’s been a lot leading up to this. Now that Trucy’s getting a little older, there’s more things she wants to do, or go to, and Daddy seems to be getting a little busier too. He’s started going down to the library more often, and having some kind of meetings for lunch, and getting calls by people Trucy doesn’t know. They’re both getting busy, and buses and taxis only get them so far. Daddy had declared, in an almost resigned-sounding voice after they missed a bus and had to wait underneath the bus stop in the pouring rain for another thirty minutes, that perhaps it was time to find a more reliable method to get around.

“Dessie says she’s running a little late, but she’ll be here soon.” Trucy is in charge of the phone while Daddy frets over the pieces of paper in his hands, crinkling the edges up in his nervous hands.

Daddy doesn’t reply to this either, just keeps walking forward. Trucy frowns to herself. Daddy’s been kind of weird about this whole thing. From getting the Learner’s Permit, to the practice drives and lessons with Desiree, to his final test, but now if anything he seems at his most awkward and strange as they approach the storage unit.

They final come to a stop, and Daddy pulls up the metal door.

If old case files in the office were little glimpses into who Daddy was before Trucy knew him, this place was an in-color photograph.

There’s cardboard boxes with ‘sketchbooks’ scrawled on the front. There’s a dead plant in the corner. There’s a stack of picture frames, an old couch shoved into a corner, and a small wood table with rings from the ghosts of old drinks, a few splashes of paint marring the surface. There’s some art supplies shoved off in a corner that Trucy immediately goes over to, and piles of books Trucy hasn’t read before, and Trucy wants nothing more than to stay here all day and look through everything and anything in sight.

In the middle of the storage unit, however, is what they’ve come here for.

It’s a lilac-colored motorcycle. There’s an unhealthy-layer of dust on it - there’s a layer of dust on everything in the room - and Daddy brushes his hand over the seat and handles, sending a plume of the dust into the air. He starts sneezing and coughing over it and Trucy laughs a little at that. She stops in a moment, though, because of the almost-grim look on Daddy’s face as he stares at the bike.

They’ve been building up to this for months, in reality. Trucy realizes this now, that everything up to this point has been to get this motorcycle out of the garage and back onto the streets, because it was a vehicle Daddy already owns, and he wouldn’t have to go through the hassle nor money involved in getting a new one. But it’s also all conflicted with Daddy’s attempts to distance himself from the past.

Daddy wants to move forward in life, she gets that, but it makes Trucy sad anyway to see how nervous and resigned he’d looked about so much as calling the Delites for help. Like doing that much is losing something.

“So this is Aunt Mia’s bike?” Trucy asks, going over to it as well. She doesn’t know anything about things like this, but it looks like it’s in okay condition. It’s certainly not as shiny as Desiree’s, but it’s not bad.

“Yeah, it’s been a while. Sorry I haven’t by.” He says, and she can tell he’s not talking to her. His eyes are fixed on the bike like sometimes he’ll stare at Charley for what seems like hours on end; it’s never for that long, but it feels like it might be at times. He tilts her head to Trucy and explains, “I used to come by and try to keep it clean and stuff, but things have gotten… complicated. I’m sure Mia’s upset I haven’t done more to maintain this since she’s been gone.”

Ah, it’s one of the days where he’s talking about Aunt Mia in the present tense. It’s hard to tell if that’s ever a good thing or a bad thing. Maybe it’s just A Thing he does sometimes. Even after four years, there’s still so much Trucy hasn’t figured out about her daddy. Sometimes, he talks about Aunt Mia as the dead person she is, gone and out of this world, a deceased but loved person, just like Trucy’s mommy was talked about. Other days, though, it’s like he expects Aunt Mia to walk through the door any minute.

“Alright, well, let’s see what we can do before Desiree gets here.”

Daddy’s temporary license, the edges of which are almost torn up by his worrying hands, is set aside on top of the sketchbook box and he grabs a towel from one of the other boxes, setting to work on a more thorough dusting. Trucy searches through Daddy’s phone for the list of what to check for that Desiree had texted him and passes it over to Daddy.

Trucy picks a stool out from the mess of things and rifles through the sketchbook box, finding one and flipping through it. There’s mostly little doodles and the like on the pages, or realistic portraits of faces Trucy doesn’t recognize. She wonders if, were Daddy not so determined to distance himself from the past, she’d know any of them. There is a picture of Miles, and she knows him, so she smiles at that picture and lightly brushes her hand over the pencil markings. Miles looks really angry in the picture, and scribbled right next to him is ‘I’ll save you’.

And Daddy did.

“Alright, let’s see what we have to work with today!”

Desiree announces herself, carrying her own box of tools

“Thought you might not show up for a moment.” Daddy jokes, but it’s one of his hollow-sounding jokes. Desiree laughs anyway.

“Oh please, I’ve been waiting to get a look at this beast for myself ever since you told me about it!” Desiree says and starts going over the bike. She talks about oil and gas and spark plugs and batteries, looking over everything and digging through her stuff and checking things. She says they’re going to need a new battery, and definitely replace just about all of the fluids. Luckily, Desiree is well-capable of doing all of that, she assures them, and they’d be able to get it up and moving enough to get it to her shop where she could do some of the rougher things to do.

“How much do I owe you?” Daddy asks, and Desiree waves her hand.

“We can discuss that later, let’s focus on getting this beauty out of this dusty-old place and back here she belongs, huh?”

Desiree has said that every time, so far, that Daddy asks about price. Trucy can see that it means Desiree doesn’t really want to make Daddy pay for any of it, but it seems to put Daddy more and more on edge every time Desiree says it. He’s waiting for something bad to happen, and his tension over it bleeds into Trucy, even though she’s not worried. Desiree is a nice lady who likes to chat to Trucy and can talk a mile a minute about motorcycles. When she’s not talking about them, she’s talking about her husband, Ron

They walk the bike out of the storage facility, Desiree filling the space with chatter about what the make and model of Aunt Mia’s motorcycle is, and the pluses and minuses of it, and how it’s lucky that it already has a backseat for Trucy. Daddy says that he used to ride with Aunt Mia sometimes, eyes trained on the bike still, as if he expected it to fall apart at a moment’s notice.

Desiree’s red-hot bike is parked out front and she tells them to meet her at her shop. She’ll be able to finish up there, where the rest of her supplies is.

“Don’t worry, she should be able to get you there just fine. And anyway, you can tell me if anything starts sounding worrying!” Desiree says as she climbs onto her bike. It’s been what Daddy has been practicing on, what Daddy even passed his driving test on just yesterday, and the rumble of it had just started to become familiar. Trucy feels like she’s going to miss it, but she’s excited to see how Aunt Mia’s bike works out.

Desiree peels out and leaves Daddy and Trucy standing on the side of the road, Daddy regarding Aunt Mia’s bike like it’s a python that’s going to bite them.

“... maybe this was a bad idea.” Daddy says five months too late.

“You worry too much! C’mon, Dessie’s waiting for us!” Trucy hops next to him, excited to get on the bike. Daddy sighs, turning his helmet over and over in his hands. Trucy has her own, bought a couple months ago, but she hasn’t been allowed on a bike yet. ‘Not until I get my official license’, Daddy had insisted. Now is the time, though.

“But what if something happens? What if I crash, and you get hurt?” He says. Trucy feels a ripple of shock run through her and she looks at Daddy’s face. His expression is grim and an open wound of his emotion. Of worry and fear, “What if I crash and I ruin her bike? What if-”

“Daddy, you’re being dumb” Trucy informs him. Daddy looks at her, and she can already see him starting to close off again, but she steals the last few moments of honesty she can, desperately, “Daddy you can do this, okay? We’re going to be okay. Even if we have to go five miles an hour to get there.”

“I think I’m actually worse at driving slow.” Daddy grumbles. Trucy grabs his hands.

“Then we’ll go really fast. We aren’t giving up on this just because you’re scared.”

Daddy sighs and then ruffles her hair.

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re right. It’d be stupid to give up right now. It doesn’t matter how long it’s going to take.”

They put their helmets on and climb onto the bike. They both hold their breaths when the engine first starts, and then it roars to life. It’s different than Desiree’s although exactly how, Trucy isn’t sure. She wraps her arms around her daddy’s stomach as they get going, keeping her eyes open. She isn’t scared, she can’t be. She needs to seem sure and trusting over this, for his sake, for their sake, so that they can make it through here together.

Things don’t change a lot with Daddy. They’ve lived in the same place for all this time, and Daddy’s worked at the same bar, and Trucy’s worked at the same bar, and they have the same routines day to week to month to year. This is new, this is change, but it’s a good thing.

They roar down the streets for the first time, Daddy is shaking, Trucy can feel it with how tightly she’s holding onto him. The air roars past them, chillingly-cold.

He did this for me, Trucy thinks, and then, no, he did this for us. For family, so that we can keep moving forwards .

If they had stood still, they would’ve been alright with buses and taxis and rides from friends. But they are moving forward in life, they need the ability to do more, be more independent, further their own things.

And help, here they had help, from Desiree, and from the thoughtfulness of Aunt Mia to leave Phoenix to her bike, and Ron had told Trucy before that Phoenix had helped them (Trucy had already known this, she’s read that case and every other case what feels like a thousand times over, her illicit self-read bedtime stories) and that they’d been wanting to do something for the man ever since they heard about The Disbarment.

It’s sort of funny, how independence and getting help seemed to go hand-in-hand.

Trucy and her Daddy roar down the streets, and her grip loosens as she gets more comfortable, and Daddy stops shaking so badly as he gets into his groove, because he’s done this before and has been training and practicing, and he knows how to ride a bike now, and Desiree has taught him how to maintain it, and now, now they are going towards a new normal, a new schedule, a second half of the darkest time of their lives (of course, Trucy doesn’t know this, and neither does her daddy, and now it seems like the shadows is simply where they will always be living) and they prepare to meet it together.

#wrightweek21 #ace attorney #trucy wright #phoenix wright #fanfiction #fanfic #browniefox writes

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postmodernmulticoloredcloak · 3 years

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I would love for you to talk more indepth about the montage. To me it feels so off and weird. Almost like a parody? So many scenes in it are "funny" moments that just don't make sense in the context of an emotional overview of the road so far... (Like all the scenes where Dean is eating, Donna with donut dust on her face, Sam getting hit during the game show.) I don't know. Isn't the montage supposed to make me nostalgic, teary-eyed? This one definitely doesn't do it for me!

Here I am! Yes, I absolutely agree. The montage is Weird(TM). It’s kind of a tone rollercoaster. It’s very full of funny/silly moments, with some serious moments smacked in. And it definitely looks like... there’s something about it.

For an easier consultation I will reference the gifs I have made of the montage sequence here.

[Gif 1] It starts pretty much like I’d expect a Supernatural goodbye montage to start. The two brothers meeting for the first time in the pilot, a reminder of their childhood with John, their banter still from the pilot, a couple moments of them driving in the car in the first seasons, Dean saving Lucas in 1x03 which is the first Dean-heavy episode and also an extremely symbolic moment for Dean’s entire journey - just think at how Lucas as a mirror was still relevent during the “drowning” Michael possession arc. Everything feels normal so far. We’re starting from the beginning! Now--

[Gif 2] Interesting and weird choices start here. Them pretending to be high school teachers from After School Special 4x13 - actually a very iconic moment for the fandom, remember that post of Dean in shorts from that episode that you had to reblog when it came on your dash? (Actually I’m not sure if I ever reblogged it lol.) Dean celebrating getting young again from The Curious Case of Dean Winchester 5x07 (and Jensen showing off his agility). The two of them showing their FBI badges to Jesse Turner’s biological mother in 5x06. Dean mowing the lawn of Mary’s house in the Djinn dream and immediately after Jess and Sam kissing also in the Djinn dream, from What Is And What Should Never Be 2x20. Then Dean after killing the witch when he was under the memory loss spell, in Regarding Dean 12x11. Sam happy when they celebrate Christmas in A Very Supernatural Christmas 3x08. Them being “lucky” under the effect of the rabbit’s foot in Bad Day At Black Rock 3x03. Sam also happy in Baby 11x04.

Again the present, then the montage starts again with the water-related ghost from Red Sky At Morning 3x06, a Bela episode, and then Bela herself from her first episode, 3x03 again.

What do these moments have in common? Not all of them, but for many of them I’d say reality being manipulated. The Djinn dream, the rabbit foot, Dean’s aging, the Antichrist... and it’s not over yet. Also, them pretending to be teachers, agents etc - not “real”.

[Gif 3] The tone suddenly gets more serious and relevant to current events: Chuck in The Monster at the End of This Book 4x18 (eh). Death in Two Minutes to Midnight 5x21 (the first appearance of Death, while now we’ve had Billie’s last and a very short-lived new one), and then two major moments from Lazarus Rising - Dean emerging from the grave and finding the handprint on his shoulder. Crowley’s first episode, Abandon All Hope 5x10. Zachariah’s death in Point Of No Return 5x18. Anna from The Song Remains The Same 5x13, where she is the antagonist having been brainwashed successfully by heaven. Michael burning and Sam jumping in the cage with Michael in 5x22, then another moment from 4x01 (the brothers hugging after reuniting). A moment from The French Mistake 6x15 (reality fuckery again!). Sam in Frontierland 6x18.

[Gif 4] Reality fuckery continues with Becky marrying Sam in 7x08. Funnily enough, this is the peak of Becky’s obsessive behavior which she went to therapy for and grew away of - it definitely emphasizes how far Becky has come. Donna’s first appeance in 9x13. That iconic shot of Dean in Bloodlust 2x03 because he’s pretty. Charlie’s first appearance in 7x20 while she dances to Walking On Sunshine (relevant?), Kevin’s first appearance in 7x21 when he becomes a prophet (lots of firsts). Abaddon’s first appearance in As Time Goes By 8x12. Then there’s the first appearance of the bunker, in the next episode, a couple shots in fact. Then more 4x01, Ruby pretending to mistake Dean for the pizza man (eh). Then more present...

This section seems to be mostly “first appearances” - including Ruby’s s4 meatsuit, i.e. Genevieve’s first appearance.

[Gif 5] We suddenly jump to more recent events with Kelly and Jack in heaven in Byzanthium 4x08. Jack’s iconic hello from 4x16 Don’t Go In The Woods. Dean teaching Jack how to drive in 14x07 Unhuman Nature. But then we suddenly go from Jack things to something completely different on the surface: two consecutive moments from Changing Channels 5x08, including the iconic Nutcracker scene, and Sully from Just My Imagination. We are actually back to the previous theme: reality fuckery. Gabriel’s episode was about placing them in “television shows”, Sully, while real, is literally a child’s “imaginary friend”. And then... a moment from the cartoon part of Scoobynatural! It doesn’t get more reality fuckery than that. Oh, wait! Charlie and Dorothy going to Oz in 9x04. That’s a pretty strong contender. Dean being hit in the face by a fairy in 6x09 - also about a realm Dean briefly went to. And, in case we felt like we hadn’t gotten enough 4x01 yet, Pamela’s first appearance (her last, albeit a hallucination, was about the whole “How come you only want what you can't have?” thing).

[Gif 6] We continue again with a mixture of firsts and weird things. Ellen’s first appearance in 2x02, Dean and Cas in 4x18 (we saw Chuck from that episode earlier), Jody’s first appearance in 5x15 Dead Men Don’t Wear Plaid. Rufus in 6x04 Weekend At Bobby’s (not his first but a good episode...), Garth in 9x12 Sharp Teeth (not his first but the first in which he is a werewolf and is married... relevant to recent lamp events??), Missouri in 1x09 (her first appearance).

Then Gabriel from 13x21 Beat The Devil (an episode where he plays a trick on Lucifer) and Rowena from the same scene (in fact a scene where they’re flirting). Then Eileen coming back to life in 15x06 and smiling at Sam. Jo flirting with Dean in 2x02 - her first appearance, again. Funnily enough, she had been introduced as a love interest, but ended up being repurposed as a sisterly figure. Tempted to say it’s relevant in an ironic way. Mary in 14x11 Damaged Goods, when Dean has a goodbye mother-son moment with her. Amara in 11x09 Oh Brother Where Art Thou when she was looking for her brother. Then Lucifer in two different vessels (12x07 Rock Never Dies and 12x21, when Lucifer regains control over the vessel).

Then Metatron doing the find a wife make babies speech to Cas in 8x23! Relevant??? Dun dun dun. Then Ketch for some reason (the first episode where we see his face, 12x08 LOTUS).

[Gif 7] Then Jo/Anael in 13x13, another first appearance. (I cropped these horribly I should have cut them when the present happens lol.)

Sandwiched between two shots from the present, Dean Sam Mary and John having dinner together in 14x13 Lebanon.

Then we start again with Dean riding Larry in 12x11, Dean and Cas dressed as cowboys in 13x06 (mini pattern here...), Asmodeus with the archangel blade in 13x13 (insert meta about Asmodeus in Christian lore here), and the really intriguing “Intermission” shot from the play in 10x05.

[Gif 8] To continue a certain pattern we might be tempted to see, Dean eating piecake from 14x06 Optimism (an episode about a distorted version of romantic love), then Dean eating noodles from 10x13 Halt & Catch Fire (the ghost is a husband that passes on thanks to his wife). Dean after his dentistry session with Garth in 15x10. Meg from 6x10 Caged Heat (the episode with the pizza man porn). Dean and Sam investigating in 4x12 Criss Angel Is a Douchebag (an episode about growing old poorly). Crowley in 10x16 Paint It Black (that episode). Dean playing that game in 14x17 Game Night (the episode Cas calls for God, and when Mary dies - the one playing the game was God...). Sam and Dean getting out of the car in 13x05 when they visit the traumatized kid (peak mourning Dean episode...). Then we go into reality fuckery territory again with 14x15 Peace of Mind, Sam under the psychic’s control and Cas disgruntled about it.

[Gif 9] Mick Davies from 12x16 Ladies Drink Free, when he learnt a lesson about monsters. Dean geeking out about the Hatchet Man - so heavy with mirror significances - in 14x04 Mint Condition. Belphegor - Jack’s dark mirror - in 15x03 The Rupture, the break-up episode. Donna’s first episode again, this time Dean and she eating donuts. Dean, Sam and Mary hugging in 12x22 after the confrontation in Mary’s head. Kaia in 13x09 The Bad Place, when Jack uses her to find the way to where Mary is (Mary pattern?). Claire&co rescuing Jody and Donna in 13x10 Wayward Sisters. Dean in 1944 dresses as a sailor in 11x14 The Vessel. Baby nyooming in 15x11 The Gamblers...

Aaand more Changing Channels, the genital herpes ad. It’s almost like reality fuckery is a theme. Followed by Sam drinking the anti-cold concoction at Garth’s in 15x10 and the two of them outside the monster fighting pit in the same episode. Then Cas, Dean, Sam and Jack on a video call with Ketch in 14x09 The Spear when they talk about the egg to trap Michael.

[Gif 10] We stay in the same episode with the four of them heading to Michael. Then the four of them celebrating Jack’s return to life (after Cas’ deal with the Empty). More present, and then the iconic “we’ve got work to do” [trunk closes] moment from the pilot.

So: some of these moments seem like genuine moments you’ll want to put in a montage, but there’s a weird predominance of characters smiling and looking happy or goofy. It’s kind of... not exactly representative of the show as a whole, you know? There are moments that fit as, you know, iconic steps in the story, but surprisingly few, and many moments you’d expect to be in a “final” montage are blatantly not there. Several moments with, let’s put it like this, suspicious meta connotations. Moments that, well, we don’t know what happens in the finale yet, but smell like they might be relevant to future developments. (Metatron’s speech to newly human Cas anyone?)

What really strikes me is the amount of moments connected to reality being manipulated or distorted in some way. Lots of Changing Channels, fantasy elements of various kinds (the Djinn dream, Scoobynatural, Oz, the imaginary friend Becky’s wedding to Sam, the fairy, ...), them acquiring luck (s3) or losing it (s15), and so on. It’s almost like the sequence is telling us something...

Thoughts?

#anon #my spn thoughts #spn meta #spn 15x19 #spn

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supernatural-jackles · 4 years

Text

Owe You One - Part 4

Title: Owe You One - Jefferson’s Starship

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 7,067

Warnings: Minor Angst, Sexual Harassment, Self-Loathing, Anxiety, Fluff, Smut, Friends with Benefits

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Owe You One - Masterlist

Squares Filled: Bartender!AU ( @spndeanbingo) FWB Relationship ( @spnfluffbingo)

A/N: Part 4!! I hope y’all enjoy this part!! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!! Happy reading!!

You stirred away at the pot you had on the stove, getting dinner ready for yourself. It was Friday night, and you had just gotten home from work about half an hour ago. You changed into your comfortable pyjamas before deciding to cook yourself a nice dinner. You were going to curl up on the couch for a little while and maybe turn in early. You had nothing extensive planned. Nothing but your PVR and previous episodes of The Walking Dead to catch up on.

You reached for a bowl in the cupboard next to you, placing it on the counter before pouring your pasta into it. You heard three loud knocks at your door, pulling you from your meal for a moment. You placed it back down on the stove before heading over to the door, opening it up. You rolled your eyes with a smile when you found Dean standing there with a smile playing on his lips. You walked away from the door, letting him walk in without protest.

“You want something to eat? I made enough pasta for two,” you pointed out. “Four cheese.”

“Oh fuck yes,” he nodded, taking a seat at your counter. You reached in the cupboard, grabbing another bowl before pouring some into it. You took two forks out of the drawer, bringing Dean’s bowl over first before your own. You hopped on the chair next to him, looking forward to tasting your meal.

“Thank you for this,” he smiled, taking a forkful.

“You’re welcome,” you beamed, taking your own bite.

“So what are you up to tonight?” he asked nonchalantly.

“Stuff,” you answered smuggly. “What do you want?”

“How do you know I want something?” he claimed, his voice went up half an octave.

“Because you didn’t call or text before coming over tonight. You usually do if you just want to hang out for the night. So I’ll ask again, what do you want, Winchester?” you chuckled.

“Okay, I have a huge favour to ask and seen as how you’re wearing your cute comfy pyjamas, I know you aren’t doing anything tonight. I also know for a damn fact that you would never let any guy see you in those so you’re not getting laid tonight.”

“Thank you! I get the point,” you scoffed playfully, taking another bite.

“I need help at the bar tonight. Sammy’s gonna be late and all I’ve got is Benny. You’re the only one that I can trust,” he stated. “I’ll pay you, of course. And whatever tips you make are yours.”

“So you want me to bartend at Jefferson’s Starship tonight and I get paid?” you chuckled. “Actual money?”

“What, you think I’m going to pay you in sex again?” he laughed, shaking his head. “‘Cause I can if you want me to. A little touchy touchy-”

“Shut up, Dean,” you giggled, shoving him a little. “How late do I have to stay?”

“Just until Sam gets in,” he assured you. “Not all night.”

“Alright, let me eat. Then I’ll go get changed. You’re lucky I like you,” you side-eyed him.

“I owe you big time,” he breathed out in relief. “Like huge, sweetheart.”

“I’ll take you up on it at some point,” you winked. “Really though, you don’t owe me anything. Remember, you helped me out of a very low point. That isn’t easy.”

“I still owe you a little. You literally never go out to the bar,” he pointed out with a sad smile.

“You are more than right. Remember that,” you winked. “How was your day anyways?”

“Eh, it was okay. Pretty busy as usual. I kept to myself at my station. My dad worked on what he needed to do. I fixed up a couple of cars and got all my paperwork done so I don’t have to do any this weekend. Fresh start Monday morning,” he explained to you. “How was your day?”

“It was okay. Boring as hell, but that’s my job for you,” you shrugged.

“So you were going to use this time to unwind, huh?” he said sheepishly. You could see the guilt he felt sores across his features. “Shit, I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, De. I should probably try to get out more anyways. Sitting at home alone isn’t going to do me any good,” you breathed out.

“I mean, you’re not entirely wrong. Sometimes alone time is what you need. But in this case, you’re coming out. Not to mention, I own the bar,” he smirked.

“Yeah yeah,” you tried not to smile.

You managed to eat your pasta in record time. You figured you’d do the dishes in the morning after your breakfast. You knew Dean had to be there soon, and you didn’t want to leave him or Benny screwed. This was a job for you and you were going to work with professionalism.

You grabbed something comfortable and presentable to wear to the bar. A pair of dark skinny jeans with a rip in the knee. You pulled on one of your white shirts and threw one of your red flannels over it to keep with the Winchester look. After that, you grabbed your comfortable boots and your bag, heading out the door with Dean by your side.

Dean opened up your door for you and you slipped inside. There was a part of you that wondered if this was a good idea. After all, he and his brother owned this bar; his family. Last you knew, his family hated you. All but Dean. You didn’t want Sam to walk in and kick you out or worse, yell at you in front of everyone. You didn’t want to ruin their business. This was important to both of them because they started it together. You weren’t going to be the one to come between them. You were simply going to help your friend out and go on your way home. If Dean wanted to join you later, that was fine. But you weren’t supposed to mix business with pleasure.

Dean parked in his designated spot out the back of the bar. There was a spot for him and a spot for Sam. No one else had access to park back here. You kicked your door open, circling around the car to the front. Dean motioned for you to follow him to the doors around the front of the building.

The second you walked into the empty bar, you smiled to yourself. This bar wasn’t like any of the bars you had been in and you had been in many of them during your college days. They wanted their place to feel like home in some sense. There was a jukebox in the corner that played only classic rock. Lots of room for people to dance. Enough tables for people to sit. Booths for those who had bigger groups. Couches and chairs set up around the tv. By the actual bar, he had stools set up all around and a tv up on the wall so people could watch from there. He had all his liquor on display and coasters stacked, ready to go. All his glassware was branded with the bar's name, and a cowboy hat. This place was something to be really proud of, that was for certain.

“Well well, look who it is,” Benny smiled. “I’ll be damned if it isn’t miss Y/N walking in for the first time in forever.”

“Hi Benny,” you grinned

“Hiya darlin,” he beamed. “What can I get for you tonight?”

“I’m working tonight,” you told him, circling around the back of the bar. “Boss needed and extra set of hands.”

“If you need help with anything, Y/N, just let one of us know. I know you know what you’re doing,” Dean nodded.

“You’re damn right I do,” you said confidently. You grabbed an apron from the shelf beneath the cash register. You had a notepad, a pen and a cloth in there, ready to get to work. It had been a long time since you had stepped foot behind a bar, but you were sure you were going to snap right back into it pretty quickly. “Let’s do this.”

It wasn’t long before people flooded into the bar. Some people just getting off work, having a drink to wind down. Others coming in in groups. The three of you worked in a perfect sync with one another. Pouring and mixing drinks the fastest you could get them to the customers in a timely manner. In record time, you had about fifty dollars in tips. The night was just getting started.

You glanced around the room as soon as the first rush died out. Everyone was distracted in some way. A group of guys watching a game on the couch by the tv. A few women sitting at a table, gossiping about their week and their husbands. Then there was a few loners sitting at the bar, sipping away at a beer or a glass of whiskey. Trying to unwind after the week. You wiped down the counter top.

“Hey there,” a man greeted you, taking a seat at the counter right in front of you. His smile was wide as he placed his hands on the countertop.

“What can I get for you?” you asked, taking a deep breath as you tucked your cloth back in your apron.

“Your phone number for starters,” he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows twice. You wanted to scoff but you were working. You weren’t about to ruin Dean’s business because some guy decided to hit on you. Not to mention, he wasn’t that cute. A man like him would be just like the rest of them. They’d get off and you’d be left finishing yourself off in the shower. You weren’t doing that again.

“Your drink order, sir?” you corrected him, trying to keep your tone in check.

“Whiskey neat,” he stated. “And that phone number.”

“Whiskey it is,” you declared, putting the glass down on the napkin in front of him. You reached for the bottle of whiskey behind you, knowing full well he was staring at your ass. He was treating you like you were easy and that wasn’t okay with you. You weren’t doing that anymore. No more shitty guys.

“Don’t play hard to get, baby,” he frowned. “I saw you eyeing me the second I walked in here tonight.”

“Enjoy your drink,” you said, your voice void of all emotions. You walked away from him, taking your cloth once more before heading out to the customers area to begin cleaning up empty glasses and bottles. Dean and Benny were still working behind the counter, serving people. It had slowed down a little more. They still had the odd person come up to them.

You wiped down every table, gathering all the empties. You snapped back into bartender mode pretty quickly. It was something you had done for years during your college years. Dean ran a really nice bar. Everything was really clean, but you also had a feeling that his brother had something to do with it. You took note of what needed replenishing to bring it out during your next trip. You gathered up what you could, placing it on the bar to move to the back when you had the chance to. You wiped down your last table before heading to the back. You could feel the creepy guy’s eyes on you and that told you to move quicker.

“Baby c’mere,” he cooed, standing up. Your heart began to pound in your chest. You needed to move quickly.

“Not interested,” you stated clearly, backing away from him. He was a big guy now that you saw him compared to you. He was tall and had a strong build. His hand made its way down to your ass, tugging you into him against your will. You tried your hardest to shove him off of you, but he barely budged. “Get off of me!”

“Hey! Hey!” Dean shouted, making his way around the bar. “Hands off of her. Now!”

“We were just getting to know each other, right baby?” He smirked, tugging you in once more. Hearing him say those words only angered you more.

You pushed him once more, successfully getting him off of you, but not getting as far as you would have liked. “Get the fuck off of me.”

Dean stepped between you and the douchebag, getting in his face a little more. You could see it in the way his jaw clenched that he was pissed. When Dean was pissed, no one wanted to be near him.

“House rules. Respecting others, especially women is the second on that list. Sexual harassment is unacceptable. Get the fuck out of my bar,” he warned him, “I’m not going to ask you again.”

“Whatever, she’s a cheap piece of ass anyways,” he scoffed, throwing down a bill on the counter before grabbing his jacket, heading to the door.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Dean asked as he turned to face you. His hand came up to the side of your head.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“You want a drink,” he offered you, smiling softly.

“No thank you. I’m good,” you smiled before heading around the back of the bar to finish cleaning up. You also knew you’d be safer behind the bar and that was where you wanted to be.

“You sure, darlin’?” Benny raised his eyebrow. “I can make you a mean drink.”

“I’m sure. I don’t drink,” you stated, placing the empty bottles in the bin.

“Since when?” Dean furrowed his brows. “We got drunk together a few months back.”

“Since whenever,” you shrugged.

“I feel like there is more behind this then you’re leading on,” Benny side-eyed you with a bit of concern.

“There is, but we’re dropping this now, okay?” you smiled, heading over to the counter to serve the next customer.

As you handed the customer their drink, Sam walked into the bar. His hair was a bit of a mess and he looked to be in a bit of a rush. You stiffened a little. After all, Sam had to know all about you now. His mom had to have said something to him. He had always been nice to you, but that was back then. There was a whole other side to you and your family now. Sure, Sam was nice, but he wasn’t going to be happy you were here if he knew anything.

“Hey,” Dean greeted his brother. “How’d it go?”

“Good,” he smiled to himself. “Place is picked out and booked. We officially have a date.”

“Don’t leave me in suspense, Sammy. Wedding date now,” Dean chuckled, wiping down a glass.

“September 15th,” he grinned widely, reaching his hand up to the back of his head.

“I’ll save the date,” he nodded with a big smile. “Congratulations, little brother!”

“Thanks, De,” he shrugged, as if it wasn’t a big deal.

You stood behind the bar awkwardly, not knowing if you should say something, or go do something else. You didn’t want to be in the way of him. This was his business too. You pulled your cloth back out, and decided to head back out to the floor to wipe down the tables again.

“Dean, what is she doing here?” you heard Sam say.

“She’s helping us out because I asked her to,” Dean stated.

“Dean, you know-”

“Sam-”

“No Dean, if mom or dad was to walk in right now, you’d be in so much shit,” he stated. That was your queue. You weren’t welcomed and you weren’t going to ruin a family business. You had no idea why you even agreed to in the first place. Mary told you that you were never going to be good enough for her family. Why did you think you’d be good enough to work at her son’s bar?

“Sorry,” you breathed out, as you untied your apron. “I’m- I’m gonna go, Dean. I don’t want to ruin your business or your relationship with your family. You don’t have to pay me for tonight.”

“Y/N, wait,” Dean called out as you began to walk away.

“Dean, it’s cool,” you nodded, assuring him it was.

“No, it’s not cool, Y/N. I invited you here tonight,” Dean declared, walking over to you. “My mom and dad don’t own this bar. Sammy and I do. I’ll tell you again. I don’t care who your mom is or was to my parents. I care about you and who you are to me. If Sammy has a problem with it, then he can stow it for tonight. You are welcome in this bar.” His hands made their way to your arms, holding you in place.

“Dean, I’m not worth the trouble, okay?” you smiled weakly, pulling the few bills out of your pocket, handing them to him. “This is yours.”

“No, they are yours. You earned them tonight. All tips are yours,” he stated.

“Y/N, please stay,” Sam called out.

“Please, sweetheart,” Dean pleaded, holding his hand out for you to take. “You’re off the clock. Just hang out with us for a little while. You said you needed to get out more.”

“You want a drink Y/N?” Sam offered, grabbing a clean glass from beneath the counter.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Water would be great.”

“W-water?” Sam furrowed his brows.

“She doesn’t drink,” Benny added in.

“Ah, okay,” Sam nodded.

You walked around the bar, taking a seat on the stool behind the bar. Sam placed a glass of water with a few ice cubes on the counter in front of you, giving you a soft smile. You knew he was trying to keep a smile on his face to keep you around for the night. It was forced at best.

“So, no guy in your life right now, Y/N?” Benny questioned you. “You usually have someone-”

“Nope, I don’t. Not right now,” you smiled at him, bringing your water up to your lips. Great, even Benny knew you got around, you thought to yourself.

“You want someone? ‘Cause you know, I’m single and you’re-”

“Benny, knock it off,” Dean warned him. “She doesn’t need another guy hitting on her tonight. House rules.”

“What? ‘M I not good enough for you,” he teased playfully before serving the next customer.

“You’re not my type,” you giggled. “My track record states that I only go for dicks. You’re a nice guy.”

“So Y/N, I gotta ask,” Sam started, taking another stool, sitting close by. “I know you grew up with your mom-”

“Sam,” Dean called out, his voice laced with a bit of anger.

“It’s okay Dean,” you assured him.

“Was it just you and your mom or was your dad ever around?” he questioned. You knew he was curious, and he didn’t seem to want to cause any harm to you. It was a simple question. Nothing you hadn’t been asked a hundred times before.

“No. It was just me and my mom. I never knew my dad, in fact, I’ve never met him or know his name for that matter. My mom always told me he didn’t want anything to do with me and that was why he wasn’t around. He didn’t want me and that’s why it was the two of us. I have no idea who my dad is, or if he’s even alive at this point. I never knew anything about him,” you shared with him.

“Were you ever curious?” Dean added in, stepping closer to you and Sam.

“Yeah, of course I was. I grew up without a dad. The kids at school were terrible to me because I didn’t have one,” you began. “I mean, look at me now. I’m a mess ninety five percent of the time. I just wish my mom would’ve been straight with me. But at the same time, my mom slept around a lot. She had a new boyfriend every month. I doubt she even knew who my dad was.”

“Do you think she was hiding it from you?” Sam brought up.

“In some ways, yeah. I asked her when I was eighteen, before I left for college and she said there was no point. My dad was probably dead.”

“If you ever wanted to find out more, Y/N, I’m sure I could do a little digging for you,” Sam offered you. It was a kind gesture but it wasn’t worth it.

“I’m not worth that kind of trouble, Sam. I don’t want to cause any more issues with your family than I already have.”

“Your mom’s issues weren’t your fault, sweetheart,” Dean reminded you.

“Dean’s right, Y/N. What your mom did in the past has nothing to do with you. It bugs the hell out of my mom because you look like her. It’s still wrong that she treated you the way she did. You’re nothing like your mom,” Sam said with a sad smile. It was really nice to hear those words coming from Sam. Especially now that you were here. You didn’t want him to hate you like his family did.

“Okay,” you breathed out. “I’m giving you the okay to take a look. It can’t hurt to find out my family history. And I’m curious as to what my mom hid from me all my life. But I don’t want to make any contact if we find out who it is.” In reality, it was probably good to find out in case you had a family history of cancer or something like that. It was too late now to ever have a father daughter relationship like you dreamed about when you were ten.

“Deal. You are always welcome to change your mind later on, okay?”

“Thank you,” you smiled softly at him. “Means a lot to me that you want to do this.”

“Well well, look who decided to show up for work,” Dean greeted the two people as they walked in.

“I thought you were short tonight, De?” you furrowed your brows.

“Chuck and Cas work later so we can go home at a decent hour,” he told you. Both of them walked behind the bar, settling their stuff underneath the cash.

“Hey,” a man with curly-ish hair greeted you. “I’m Chuck.”

“Y/N,” you waved at him.

“So uh, how you doin’?” he wiggled his eyebrows.

“Chuck,” Dean warned him, shaking his head.

“Oh shit, sorry. Is she your-”

“No she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend,” he stated, earning a chuckle from both you and Sam. Dean was very protective over you, and you actually kind of liked that he was.

“Oh god, that’s worse,” he breathed out sheepishly. “It was very nice to meet you, Y/N.”

“You ready to head out, Y/N?” Dean offered with a smile.

“God, yes please!” you beamed, hopping off your stool.

“I’ll grab your number from Dean,” Sam nodded, giving you a wink. Dean grabbed his jacket as you circled around the bar for the last time. You couldn’t wait to go home and change into your pyjamas. You couldn’t wait to be in the privacy of your apartment so you could finally unwind for the night.

Dean followed behind you as you lead the way to the impala. It was just after eleven when you looked at the clock in the impala as Dean started her up. It was a long night, and some parts of it sucked, but for the most part, you were glad you did it with Dean there. His friends were also nice people to be around so that certainly helped.

“You did good tonight,” he smiled at you as he turned out of the parking lot.

“What can I say, I’m an ex bartender,” you chuckled. “Thanks for asking me to come out tonight.”

“You’re welcome,” he nodded.

“If you’re up for it, you wanna hang out at my place for a bit?” you asked him. “Only if you want to.”

“Yeah, I’d love to,” he agreed.

It was almost eleven thirty by the time you arrived at your front door with the keys in your hand. Dean stood right behind you, keeping a close distance. You figured after that creepy guy at the bar tonight, he was keeping you close in case something was to happen. You really did enjoy how protective he was of you. He had been ever since that day the two of you made up. It was nice to have someone want to keep you safe from harms way.

You threw your keys on the counter as soon as you walked in. Dean locked the door behind him and kicked off his shoes on the front mat. You leaped onto the couch, flopping down on your back, earning a laugh from your best friend.

“Long night, huh?” he said as he sat down next to you.

“Very! I love being hit on by creepy guys. It’s my favourite,” you joked, moving up to a sitting position to give him more room on the couch. Your couch was big enough for two people to sleep on, but Dean just had to sit close to you.

“You used to enjoy guys like that,” he teased you.

“Eh, I wouldn’t say I enjoyed them. I prefer guys with a little more respect. Not guys that grope my ass in a crowded bar while I’m working,” you breathed out. “I don’t know. Lately I haven’t been interested.”

“In what?” he cocked his head to the side, looking over at you.

“Dating. Men in general,” you shrugged, leaning against the arm of the couch. “Too much to focus on and I’m a mess most days.”

“Not even sex for you?” he questioned.

“Eh,” you smirked. “I’ve got my own ways of handling things in that department. It’s not like any of the guys I slept with before knew what they were doing. I’m just not wasting my time.”

“Good,” he grinned. “You deserve better than that.”

“What about you, Winchester? You’re nearly as bad as I am for taking random people home,” you pointed out.

“Not as of recently,” he confessed, looking down at his hands. “Part of it is how busy I’ve been. No one has really caught my eye. Everyone these days are dating, and settling down. After Cassie, I don’t really want to date right now. Especially since she left things open for when she gets back.”

“I don’t blame you,” you nodded. “Would you get back together with her if she were to show up at your door right now?”

“Deep question there, sweetheart,” he chuckled. “I don’t know. I haven’t heard from her since we broke up. Not even an email. If she were to knock on my door, I don’t think I could just settle back in like nothing happened.”

“That’s understandable,” you nodded. “At least you’ve moved on a little. We slept together.”

“You’re the last person I slept with,” he admitted.

“You’re my last too,” you nodded. “We’re doing awesome. Although, I certainly can’t complain. You were damn good. You kept up your end of the bargain beautifully.”

“Well, technically I owe you one for tonight,” he joked with a smirk. “I know how to drive a good bargain.”

“I’m down if you are,” you wiggled your eyebrows with a soft smile.

“Actually?” he cocked his eyebrow.

“What’s the harm?” you shrugged. “Not like we haven’t before.”

“I’m definitely in if you are,” he nodded. “No pressure at all. Only if you want to.”

“You’re too nice to me, you know that?” you smiled at him as you moved over. You threw your leg over his legs, settling down over his lap. His hands instantly reached for your waist as his eyes went wide.

“I wouldn’t say nice,” he breathed out. “I just care ‘bout you is all.”

“Well, thank you. I really appreciate that you care,” you smiled. “I care ‘bout you too.”

“Alright, this is getting too chick flicky for my liking,” he stated, leaning forward. He captured your lips with his in a soft, heated kiss that had you instantly craving more. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders tugging yourself closer to him as your tongue slipped over his bottom lip.

His hands reached beneath your flannel, pushing the material over your shoulders in record time. You had a feeling this was going to happen fast. It was late after all, and you both had been working since nine this morning. It was going to be a quickie at best and that was more than okay with you. A quick fix to make you both feel good and that would be enough to put you to sleep right away.

“You’re sure about this?” Dean asked you, pulling away a little.

“Yes, more than sure,” you breathed out, pushing his flannel over his shoulders. “No foreplay this time.”

“Got it,” he nodded. “Just a quickie?”

“Quickie then bed,” you smile at him.

“Roger that,” he agreed, tugging the hem of your shirt up your body, throwing it to the floor. You did the exact same to his, tearing it off of him as quickly as you could. He bucked his hips up to yours, and you could feel the bulge of him already. The thought of having him once more sent heat pooling in your core.

You climbed off of his lap, toying with the button on your jeans before shoving them down your legs along with your panties. Dean unbuckled his belt, making quick work of removing his jeans and boxers, pushing them down his legs. His hard cock standing proud between his legs. Fuck, was he perfect.

“Condom?” you asked him.

“Wallet,” he nodded, reaching down to his jeans, pulling out the leather pouch. He opened it up, taking the foil packet from his wallet. You stepped forward, straddling him as he opened the packet with his teeth, taking the rubber out. You watched as he took his cock in his hand, rolling the condom down over himself. You reached behind your back, removing the final article of clothing from your body to reveal yourself to him once more.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” he smiled softly at you.

“Dean,” you grinned, shaking your head.

“You are,” he shrugged. “I like that I’m the one you went home with tonight after all the guys that hit on you.”

“Thank you,” you half smiled. “You’re sexy as hell.”

“Hell doesn’t sound all that sexy,” he teased you.

“Shut up, Winchester,” you giggled. “Do you want me to fuck you or not?”

“Please,” he chuckled.

“Then ask me nicely,” you played, wanting to test him just a little.

“Y/N, will you please let me put my dick inside you?” he let out a laugh, not able to keep a straight face through the entire sentence, making you laugh along with him.

“I can’t believe you actually asked,” you cackled.

“Shut up,” he shook his head, trying not to laugh more than he already had. “The things I do for you.”

“Hey, the way to a girl’s heart is through humor, Winchester,” you pointed out.

“Yeah yeah,” he scoffed. “Alright, I’m going to touch you now. Make sure you’re ready for me.”

“By all means,” you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. His right hand came down between your legs, his middle finger brushing through your folds to see if you were ready enough for him. You knew you were more than ready to take him. The mere sight of him had you ready to go. The kissing certainly helped you get there too. He was a damn good kisser.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he whispered. “You’re sure?”

“Yes,” you nodded. “You’re sure?”

“I am,” he agreed. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You balanced yourself on his shoulders, moving up his body to get ready. You reached one of your hands down, taking his cock before lining it up with your entrance. Your eyes met with his as you positioned the tip in place. He nodded his head, not daring to break the eye contact you held. You let yourself sync down on him, slow and steady. His eyes fluttered shut as you surrounded him in your heat.

“Fuck, Y/N,” he breathed out as he bottomed out inside you. You could feel him twitching a little as your walls grew accustomed to him. He finally opened his eyes, meeting yours as a smile played on his lips. He slipped his hands around your back, ready to help you move on him.

“You feel amazing, De,” you told him, leaning forward, pressing your forehead to his.

You made yourself more comfortable before beginning to move on him. He repositioned himself beneath you, making it easier for you to ride him, and for him to meet you halfway. As you sank down on him, he thrusted upwards. His grip was tight on you, keeping you close to him. He felt amazing inside of you. Hell, almost better than he did the first time. From this angle, his cock brushed over all the sensitive spots, getting you there a little bit faster than you were expecting him to.

His lips trailed on your neck, making your fingers curl in his shoulders. Your walls fluttered around him at the sensation. You brought your hand up to his hair, carding through his soft locks as you continued to bounce on him.

“Shit Dean,” you cried out.

“Feels so good,” he muttered, pulling away from your neck. “So close.”

“Faster,” you urged him on.

His hands slipped down to your ass, pulling you closer to him. He shifted quickly, your back hitting the couch as he fit between your legs. He snapped his hips against yours, picking up the pace to get you both there. One of his hands reached between your bodies, toying with your clit to heighten your pleasure.

“Dean, Dean, Dean,” you moaned. Your grip tightened around his shoulders, desperate to grab onto something to keep you grounded. You were panting profusely. You felt the tightness growing in your abdomen. You were so damn close.

“Come for me, sweetheart,” he urged you on. “Let me feel you.”

Your walls came crashing down around him as you let out a wanton moan. Your eyes fluttered shut as you threw your head back, letting the pleasure course it’s way through your body. Your fingers curled into his back, trying to hold onto something to keep you from floating away. Your vision went white and your body began to shake just enough for you to notice.

“Atta girl,” he encouraged you as he bucked his hips into yours. You knew he was damn close to the edge. He just needed that final push.

“Feels so good, De,” you whispered, trailing your shaky hand up into his hair. “Come for me, Dean.”

“Shit-” he growled, picking up his pace just a little more. He gave three hard thrusts before his cock twitched. His seed filling the condom before he collapsed on top of you, letting out a breath.

Your hand carded through his hair, playing with his soft locks as you both came down from your highs. You turned your head, looking at the time on the clock above your tv. It was just after twelve fifteen. You knew you had to get up and get ready for bed.

“I just realized we did that with the curtains open,” you giggled, glancing over at the big open window.

“Well shit,” he let out a laugh. “I hope they enjoyed the show.”

“We should get up,” you told him. “Get ready for bed.”

“Yeah,” he breathed out, shifting himself up. He reached down, grabbing the base of his cock to remove himself with care.

You were the first one off the couch, leaving your clothes on the floor. You headed into your bedroom, going straight to the bathroom. Dean wasn’t far behind you, throwing the used condom into the trash in your bathroom.

“Uh, you’re welcome to stay if you want to,” you offered him. “Or you can go, whichever you want to do.”

“Whichever you’re more comfortable with. I don’t want to overstep,” he stated, taking a step back.

“We literally just had sex,” you reminded him. “I don’t know what would even be considered overstepping at this point.”

“True,” he chuckled.

“Well, if you’d like to stay, there is an extra toothbrush in my drawer and boxers in the top drawer in my bedroom,” you told him with a soft smile. “I’m going to shower to get the smell of sex and alcohol off of me. If you want to do the same, you know where the towels are.”

“Alright,” he nodded, turning towards the shower. You watched as he turned the nozzle, setting it on hot. “You shower first and I’ll clean up out there.

Dean was out of the bathroom, giving you a bit of privacy. You shut the door a little, giving yourself the comfort of being alone to do what you needed to do. You went to the bathroom before slipping into the shower.

The water was the perfect temperature for you to clean yourself up. You were just going to have a quick shower to wash your body. You could wash your hair in the morning. You just wanted to feel clean. You had the feeling Dean was staying with you tonight, and you weren’t against it persay. You didn’t want him getting the wrong idea. You weren’t looking for a relationship. You hoped it was just sex for him. That you could handle with ease. You didn’t want to do the whole ‘feelings’ thing. Not with your best friend. Sleepovers were normal for friends. Two friends could have sex without it being weird. There was nothing wrong with casual sex.

You washed your body quickly. You could feel yourself getting more and more tired the more you stood under the stream. You just wanted to get out, brush your teeth and head to bed. Nothing more.

The water shut off and you stepped out onto the mat you had set out. You wrapped your towel around yourself, making sure it was tight. The mirror was all steamy, and you could barely see. Not that it was going to stop you from brushing your teeth.

“Dean, you’re good,” you called out, reaching for your toothbrush. The bathroom door opened, revealing Dean in his boxers and nothing else. He was quiet as he went about, gathering what he needed to shower. You tried your hardest to keep your eyes off of him while he moved around.

He hopped in the shower as soon as you finished brushing your teeth. The mirror was just starting to clear when you turned away, giving Dean the privacy he deserved. You noticed as soon as you were in your bedroom that Dean had thrown your clothes in the laundry hamper. His clothes were set on the chair in the corner of your room, folded nicely.

You grabbed the first pair of panties from your drawer, and an oversized shirt to wear to bed. You could feel yourself starting to overthink this. You didn’t want anything to change between you and Dean. You didn’t see him as anything other than your best friend. You didn’t want to date him. You didn’t want a boyfriend or a serious relationship for that matter. You didn’t want him to get the wrong impression.

You got dressed quickly, throwing the comforter back, slipping beneath the sheets. You heard the water turn off, which meant it was only a matter of time before he was joining you in bed. You lay on your back, adjusting the covers over your chest.

Dean emerged from the bathroom in a pair of clean boxers, shutting the light out. He circled around the bed, following the same steps. He joined you in the bed, resting on his back, looking up at the ceiling.

“You tired?” he asked you.

“Now that the lights are out, not really,” you chuckled. “You?”

“No not really,” he let out a laugh. “That was fun.”

“It was. And I’m not usually for being on top,” you admitted with a half smile.

“Why this time?” he questioned, turning his head to look your direction.

“I don’t know. I guess I feel a little more comfortable around you. I’m not as nervous about some things, like the way I look for example,” you confessed.

“You’re beautiful,” he said with a laugh. “Hell, I wouldn’t mind doing it again.”

“What, like that?”

“That. And sex in general,” he shrugged. “I’ve got what is probably not a good idea. But you said that you’re not looking to date anyone. I’m not ready to date anyone. We’re best friends and speaking from previous experiences one and two, sex is great between us. You’re comfortable with me, and I’m comfortable with you. Why don’t we continue sleeping together? You know, get each other off, try some new things?”

“Like a friends with benefits kind of thing?” you inquired, furrowing your brows.

“Yeah I guess so,” he breathed out.

“How is that going to work, Dean?” you turned to face him. “It literally never works. There are too many rules, and someone always gets hurt in the end.”

“Not if we don’t let it,” he reminded you.

“Fair point. If we’re going this, and that’s a big if, Dean. I don’t want stupid rules and shit, okay? Friends who have sex, try new things; whatever. Nothing about our friendship changes,” you declared.

“Done deal. I can agree to those terms,” he nodded.

“Good. I’m all for sex, but as soon as something goes sideways, of gets complicated, I’m out, okay?” you breathed out.

“More than okay,” he smiled at you. “Now, are you going to deny me after sex cuddling?”

“We had sex like half an hour ago,” you scoffed playfully.

“Friends are allowed to cuddle, you know,” he reminded you. “It’s not going to hurt you.”

“Fine,” you shook your head. “You’re big spoon though.”

“Turn around then,” he smirked.

You turned over, trying to make yourself comfortable on your side of the bed. Dean slipped his arm around your middle, his chest pressing against your back. You let yourself melt into him, feeling safe in his hold. You knew for a fact that he was going to keep the nightmares away tonight.

Maybe after sex cuddling wasn’t so bad after all.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 5 coming Tuesday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Any theories? Please share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Nothing is stupid! I WANT TO HEAR FROM YOU! Your response is the ONLY thing keeping me sharing this story!

Dean Babes

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teamhappyme · 3 years

Text

a series of promising events (2/5)

aaron hotchner x female!reader

word count: 10.6k (yeah i have a spacing problem)

a/n: part 2 of this series is here! some dialogue, cases, and themes taken directly from criminal minds (S03 EP20, S04 EP01, & S05 EP08). originally, i had it planned to be 3 parts, but after editing, and looking at the word count, it makes more sense to be 5 parts. i don’t want to inundate you lovely people with massive word counts (even though 10k is massive) so this is the finalized count. because i finally got my shit together and finished this out, part 3 will be up wednesday morning, part 4 will be up friday morning, and the final part 5 will be up sunday morning. thank you to everyone who showed some love for part one, and thank you to anyone else who stumbled across my crazy writing and read along!

at the end, I’ve tagged the peeps that interacted with part 1. if you don’t want to be tagged for the other parts, just let me know :)

ok enough of my rambling inner monologue, here we go friends!

link to part 1: here

****

May 2008

We were in New York, investigating what started out as five connected shootings in the city. After twelve hours, we were up to nine fatalities.

We delivered the profile at nine thirty, finally satisfied with the outcome after a day's worth of combing over crime scene photos and witness statements. Hotch didn’t want to waste another second, making sure the profile went out before the night shift went out to patrol.

“Now, our first theory is that we’re dealing with a team.” Derek started. “In the case of the D.C. snipers, there was actually one intended victim.”

“John Muhammad wanted to kill his ex wife, but he knew if he did, he’d be the prime suspect, so he created a spree in order to mask his primary motivation.”

Spencer added before turning to SSA Joyner. “Muhammad and Malvo also left a death card at one of their scenes, just like this unsub.”

“We believe our unsubs have studied that case. They’re opening a line of communication.”

There was an outpouring of judgement focused on us, since we were in charge of the D.C. snipers case as well. These unsubs know we’re here, and they’re trying to show they can outthink us.

“Yes, they are playing games. But what that tells us is at least one of them has some intelligence.” You tried to hold your ground, and not let their opinions get to you.

“And like I said,” Prentiss interrupted, ready to put these cops in their place. “They know these cases. He’s also studied the placement of the surveillance systems well enough to avoid detection.”

“We’ve asked officers to canvass their precincts, and look out for a father-son type of duo that fit the dominant-submissive profile.” Rossi had Reid hand out some gang related profiles, just in case the profile shifted. But we were pretty confident in our first go.

“Talk to the people on your beats, look out for anything suspicious. And let's pray that this isn’t random.” The detective in charge finished and let his precinct disperse.

“Hey y/n/n, we’re gonna head back in five if you want a spot in the fun suburban.” JJ teased and lightly shoved Spencer’s shoulder.

You smiled and started packing up your backpack. “Okay. Just, leave the fragile doctor alone.”

After packing up any files you wanted to review when you got back to the hotel room, you let Morgan and Rossi know the four of you were headed out. They weren’t much further behind with Prentiss and Garcia.

You met Reid and JJ in the lobby, droopy eyes and mouths full of yawns adorning the three of you. It was a long day, and it was only going to be worse tomorrow.

“Where’s Hotch?” You asked, ready to get your feet out of these narrow leather dress shoes. You were wearing your combat boots tomorrow.

“He’s checking in with the lady friend.” JJ nodded her head toward Hotch, who was conversing with Joyner in her office. They were standing close, and you thought you caught a smile on his face. “Do you think they’re into each other?”

“She looks like she could be Haley’s twin,” Spencer added and you sighed.

The moment the team arrived at HQ this morning, everybody noticed the resemblance to Hotch’s ex-wife. SSA Kate Joyner went pretty far back with our unit chief. They went through the academy together and had some assignments overlap over the years. If it were up to Morgan and Garcia, the two of them would be out on a date right now. But you and Rossi quickly quieted the rumors, not wanting to deal with the rage that was Aaron Hotchner if he knew we were discussing his love life.

It had barely been six months since Haley left with Jack, and Hotch had just taken off his wedding band a few weeks ago. He didn’t tell any of you until you all witnessed him getting served in the office. It slapped you across the face, especially since you’d just met Haley and Jack for a quick lunch a month and a half before. I guess she wanted Hotch to tell you when he was ready.

As much as you valued your three year friendship with Aaron Hotchner, you knew Haley deserved better. Hotch adored his wife and son, and would fight heaven and earth to keep them safe. Unfortunately, he was too busy fighting the demons from hell to be a present father and husband. Everyone had their breaking point, and Haley had hit hers. From what Hotch has told you, they’re still amicable, and are trying to be friends again. After all, it wasn’t a lack of love that ended their marriage. It was a lack of prioritizing his family.

“Knock it off. He’s on his way over.” The three of you turned to one another, pretending to hold an intriguing conversation about one of Spencer’s magic tricks. Truthfully, you were always intrigued in his magic tricks; you never understood how he could pull endless quarters out of your ear. But that conversation would have to wait for another day.

“Ready to go?” Hotch pulled the keys out of his pant pocket, and the three of you nodded as Spencer called shotgun. A smile crossed your lips, never getting over the jovial things Spencer loved to claim when his intellect wasn’t needed to solve a case.

The fifteen minute ride to the hotel downtown was silent. You were all exhausted, emotionally and physically, sick of having to watch people die over and over again.

The four of you made it into the lobby, tomorrow morning’s papers already spread across the table. “The late edition didn’t miss a beat.” You said and picked up one of the papers, the headline reading ‘Execution Style’ with a still from one of the murders. You showed it to Hotch and he shook his head.

“I’m glad I never stooped to this level when I was publishing.” You murmured, reading the first paragraph of the article.

“JJ,” Spencer started and pointed across the lobby, causing all of us to turn. It was Detective Will LaMontagne Jr., JJ’s adorably chivalrous Louisiana boyfriend.

“Will.” You could practically hear the smile on her face as she led the walk over to him.

He was supposed to fly into D.C. to visit JJ for the weekend, but came to surprise her in New York when he heard the news. Spencer and I shared a look as Hotch extended a hand to him.

“Detective.”

“I’m sorry for showing up like this, I know you’re working. But, um. I can’t stand you being on this case. And me not being here, not with what’s going on.”

JJ shook her head in the slightest, and you started to get nervous.

“Is there a problem?” Hotch asked, concern completely taking over his voice at the thought of any harm happening to his team. The couple shared a knowing look, and your patience was starting to run thin with the information being withheld. JJ meant the world to you, and you wanted to make sure she was okay.

Reluctantly, she turned to face you all, a shy smile covering her face. “I’m pregnant.”

Spencer looked over at you, not knowing how to react to the news. But you couldn’t help the smile widening on your face.

“Oh my god, JJ! Congratulations!” You wrapped your arms around her and she laughed, most likely out of relief. This was a secret she kept for a long time.

“I’ve asked JJ to marry me,”

“Will.” She cut him off as Hotch gave him a congratulatory handshake.

“We’re working out some kinks.” He added as Spencer was next to hug your blonde friend. A baby, in the BAU. You might have been more excited than JJ.

“We’ll, uh, give you both some privacy.” Hotch started towards the elevator, and JJ was quick to follow.

“Hotch,” She didn’t continue, you knew this wasn’t the exact situation she wanted to tell everyone she was having a baby.

“JJ, you could have told me.”

The tenderness in his voice could have broken your heart in two right then and there, but add on the fact that you swore you could see Hotch’s eyes tear in the slightest, you were done. You didn’t want to mention it in front of Reid, but you knew this had to do with Haley. You’d be an idiot not to notice.

The three of you filed into the elevator, leaving JJ and Will to talk in private. You all got off on the fourth floor, Reid’s room the first to come up in the hallway.

“Night Spencer.”

“Goodnight. Seven a.m.,” He reminded you as he opened the door with his keycard.

You and Hotch walked down another ten feet before he found his room.

“Goodnight,” He mumbled out and reached for his key.

“Hotch,” He closed his eyes, nodding his head in the slightest.

“I’m tired, y/n.” You could’ve pushed harder. You could have gotten him to crack if you started nagging enough. You’d earned the title as baby sister from the team since you could whine and nag them into doing anything. But tonight didn’t seem like a good time for your skills.

You nodded, understanding this conversation wasn’t going to happen.

“Goodnight. Get some sleep.”

Despite your best efforts, you didn’t sleep a wink. Hotch had gone over his files and called for Kate to meet him in the lobby. But then there was an explosion, and you had to watch from your window as Hotch sat by Joyner, waiting for her to die.

Once the team had caught the second unsub and wrapped everything up at the precinct, you headed to the hospital to check on Hotch. And unsurprisingly, he was refusing any further treatment for the ringing in his ears he tried to deny. You saw him kick Rossi out of the room, the third member that couldn’t get through to him.

“Bobo, why don’t you give it a try. Can’t yell at the baby with a broken arm.” You were the one to tackle the unsub, and landed pretty hard on the pavement downtown. Nothing a black cast covered in smiley faces from Spencer and Garcia couldn’t fix.

“I know you can’t tell, but I’m flipping you off right now.” You responded to Morgan as you raised your casted hand toward him.

You headed to Hotch’s room, knocking on the window before you walked in.

“I swear to god if you try to put me in another MRI,” He started to raise his voice when you interrupted him.

“Shit, I should go tell Morgan he was wrong. Boss is willing to yell at the baby with a broken arm.”

He turned around to face you, the lines on his forehead disappearing once he saw it was you and not Rossi.

“What happened to your arm?” You smiled and glanced down at the cast. “Just another day on the job. Tackled the unsub, the pavement was not very kind to me.”

He sat on the edge of the bed, trying to put his tie back around his neck. You scoffed, stepping over to him.

“Why the hell would you want to put that back on?”

“Because it’s part of my suit.”

You knew better than to pull it out of his hands. He was holding on to any semblance of control, and his outfit was all that he had left. Instead you took a seat in the stiff chair across from him, watching as he grimaced every time he lifted his arms too high.

“If your goal is to get me to stay another minute here under observation, you’re not gonna win.”

You shook your head. “That’s not my goal.”

He sighed, giving up on putting his tie on. He moved to finish his top button, he was at least going to be covered.

“You should be excited for JJ.” You started, testing the water on this subject.

“Did I suggest otherwise?” He asked and you shook your head.

“When was the last time you saw Jack?” His eyes widened the slightest, and you regretted asking the question. You gripped the arms of the chair, ready to be ripped a new one.

Instead, Hotch let out a sigh, and you snapped your head up. “Two weeks. Haley went to visit her mother for a week, and then we went from Florida to New York in three days.”

He was already away from Jack half the week when they were still living under the same roof. Now he was lucky if he got to say goodnight on a weekend.

“Why don’t you take some time off? I’m sure you have weeks saved up. I’ve been here three years and have never seen a tan on you.”

He shook his head. “Strauss would never approve of it.”

“Hotch,”

“Y/n, I really want to get out of this hospital room and call my son.” You shook your head, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Fine. But you’re not flying home. You have a choice between Morgan and Rossi to drive you home. My recommendation would be Morgan, you don’t want to sit through four hours of Opera music.”

You stood up, refusing to meet his eye. You were sick of dealing with stubborn men.

“I’ll see if they can fax your records to D.C. before we leave.”

He muttered out a thank you as you left the room, shaking your head at the rest of the team.

“Nothing?” Morgan asked as you returned to them.

“Nothing. Even the baby gets yelled at.” Spencer spared you a glance and you gave him a small smile. You would be fine. “And Derek, you’re driving him back.”

***

January 2010

You didn’t think it could get worse than seeing Hotch with nine stab wounds at the hands of Foyet. You desperately wanted to believe that it couldn’t be worse than that. But you were naive to think that he would let Aaron survive and not make him suffer.

None of you would be able to erase the image of Haley’s bloody body lying in the home where she and Aaron created their family. You wouldn’t forget the sight of Hotch beating into Foyet’s face, or the sobs that raked through his body once Derek had shaken him off. This was a tragedy that shaped the entire team.

After Haley’s death, the seven of you took turns checking in on Hotch, Jack, and Haley’s sister Jessica. She stayed close by when Hotch was on leave, helping him with Jack’s routine, and how to explain to the four year old where his mommy went. She moved back into her apartment a few blocks away before Aaron returned to work. He wanted to prove to her that he could do this on his own, that he could be the strong father that Jack deserved, and that Haley would be proud of.

While the three of them were together, the team would try and make it over every Saturday for dinner. Hotch needed to be around friends, and Jessica needed a guilt free night to spend with the people that made her feel good. He was reluctant at first, not wanting us over the apartment, complaining that it was a mess, and it was too small to fit everyone. But it was impeccably neat, the result of a widow not being able to sleep. Once he became comfortable with us coming around on Saturday’s, we’d pick two weeknights to stop by with a dinner, movie, or game to help take their minds off of the pain. Although you and JJ stopped by every friday regardless of whose week it was, Hotch really appreciated the extra company, and so did Jack.

Despite his attempts at being independent, there were one too many distressed calls being made to you or JJ if he couldn’t get a hold of Jess, or if he didn’t want to burden her with the responsibility.

Your feelings about Jack Hotchner hadn’t changed in the four years since you met him. You would still do anything to see the adorable little boy smile. So, it was easy to say that you didn’t mind the late night phone calls worrying about Jack’s stuffy nose or when he should take the chicken out of the freezer without it going bad. Because the more he reached out to any one of you, the closer he was to finding a new normal.

However, all of you were surprised to see SSA Aaron Hotchner in his office only a month and a half after the event. Sure, he made remarkable progress, but you all assumed he would take a little more time, maybe take Jack on a well deserved vacation. Instead, you walked into the office on a monday morning, Hotch the first one in attendance.

That was two weeks ago.

The readjustment period had worn off, and Hotch was back to being a drill sergeant. Even more aggressive than he was before.

The case we were working was local, saving us the discomfort of sleeping in a hotel bed. We were in Virginia, investigating two murdered families, similar to ‘The Fox’.

“Who?” You asked, not familiar with the creepy nickname.

“Four years ago Karl Arnold, aka the fox, killed eight families.” Derek informed you. It must have been just before you started at the BAU.

“Similar to this case he took the father’s wedding rings, except in his case he took them as trophies.” Spencer finished.

“Hotch, you gave evidence at Arnold’s trial. I think you should go see him.” Derek was acting unit chief since before Haley’s death, and continued his position even with Hotch’s return. Strauss was weary now more than ever to give Aaron the title back so quick.

“I’d like to take l/n with me.” You looked over to Hotch, his eyes resting on yours, waiting for your approval.

You gave a small nod, placing your sunglasses over your eyes. “Okay. Let’s go.”

Hotch got the keys to a suburban and before you could meet him at the car, Prentiss pulled you back.

“Hey, are you sure you’re okay with this?” She was always looking out for you, heck she was the one that made you pack extra barf bags for crime scenes. She knew meeting face to face with a family killer would do a number on you. But Hotch can’t face this guy on his own. Not after what happened.

“I’m good. Not the first time I've interrogated a psychopath.” She reluctantly nodded.

“Okay. Just, let Hotch take the lead.”

You gave her arm a squeeze. “I will. Let’s find this guy.”

The ride to Red Onion Supermax was a short and quiet one. Hotch filled you in on the particulars of Arnold’s case, making sure you knew it inside and out. This was a team effort after all.

You couldn’t get a clean read on Hotch, however, on the ride over. He’d yet to crack a true smile or laugh in the weeks he’d been back, which normally wouldn’t be so out of character for him. But Reid had been trying to get him to crack with every magic trick he knew, even agreeing to let Derek joke about his lack of childhood and understanding of pop culture. But nothing worked.

It worried you to see the regression he’s made since coming back. You knew how happy he was at home with Jack, that a smile crossed his face most of the day when he was playing legos with his son. You hoped he was here because he wanted to be, not because he felt like he had an obligation to the team or the Bureau.

“Karl has a big ego. He’s going to answer every question with a question. He’ll try to gain the advantage with me by asking why I’m not wearing my wedding ring.” You looked down at his left hand, the gold band that you noticed on your first day, now gone, along with the woman he loved. “And then he will turn his attention to you.”

“So that’s why you brought me along.”

“Your presence will throw him off guard. And he’s going to want to describe to you in graphic detail every sexual act he committed with the families.”

“To freak me out?” Because you haven’t even met this sick bastard and you were certainly already freaked out.

Hotch met your eye, and you knew this was only going to get worse. “To pull you into his fantasy.”

The guard radioed for the gate to open, and you tried to contain the tremors in your hands. This was a wing of psychotic sexual sadists, they would pick up on your nervous ticks.

You looked to Hotch once the gate opened, and he nodded for you to go in.

“Go ahead.” You followed the guard in, surprised at the lack of noise you were welcomed with. “Keep your eyes forward. More than anything he’s going to want to see images of the children.”

“We can’t give him that.” You argued, as you started to hear the men from their cells.

“We have to give him something or we’ll get nothing from him.”

You’d kept your breathing under control the entire walk down the hallway, until a man crashed against the glass, causing you to flinch and spare a glance.

“Isn’t that, uh,-”

“Derek Payne.” He finished for you, his eyes still straight ahead.

“It’s reinforced glass.” You scoffed. Of course he wasn’t worried about another man ripping him apart.

“Easy for you to say, he tore apart fourteen women.”

The door opened to the interrogation room, and this time Hotch entered first. You were met with Karl Arnold, red bushy hair and a beard to match. He was average height, and a little stocky, not what you pictured him to look like.

“Hello Karl,” Hotch greeted him as we settled in on the other side of the table.

“Agent Hotchner,” He stood. “I wasn’t informed you were bringing a, uh,” He glanced at you, looking you up and down before turning back to Hotch. You really regretted wearing a white silk top with your dress pants today. “They just said two agents.”

“This is Agent-”

“Y/n, l/n.” You tried to control the dilation of your eyes as he looked right through you. “I know all about you.”

Now you understood why Emily asked you if you were sure about this. He kept his eyes on Hotch as he started the interrogation, never looking you in the eyes longer than a second. Even if you directed a question toward him, he would only answer to Hotch. He was a misogynist. You don’t know why you’re so surprised at this discovery, he tortured wives and families.

When he offered up his book of dialogue between him and his fans, he smelled your perfume as you reached across the table to grab it. Hotch quickly took it for you, letting you sit back down in your seat. Your gut was no longer in your stomach, it was lodged in your throat.

“How’d you lose your ring, Agent Hotchner?” It was beyond your level of profiling to understand how Hotch could just sit there and take the assault on his personal life from a man who ruined families, especially with what he’d just been through. You’d never mastered the art of compartmentalization quite like Hotch. But right now, you were thankful for your uncontrollable emotions.

“I can look past your refusal to answer my question, if you let me see the children. It’s the only way I can truly help you.” You gripped the files harder at the mention of the victims and looked at Hotch.

“Can I speak with you for a second?” He nodded and the two of you stood.

“Is there something wrong, y/n?” You bit back the sarcasm that was threatening to fall from your mouth.

“Nothing’s wrong, Karl.”

You exited the interrogation room, still clutching the files close to your chest.

“We cannot show him these.”

He looked at Arnold, who seemed to find your eyes, even through the reflective mirror. “These images will be his undoing and will lead us to the killer.”

“These are not just images.”

“That’s exactly what they are.”

“Hotch, I am not about to parade a dead twelve year old girl in a bathing suit in front of a serial killer who gets off on it.” You raised your voice, not willing to compromise any respect you had left for these victims.

“Then show him the others. It’ll gain his trust and get him talking. He won’t talk to me, he knows I know everything that gets him off. But he’ll want to tell you just what he would do to them. I told you, he wants to pull you in.”

You shook your head. “These are children! Helpless children whose fathers have to live with what this animal did to their families! These strangers do not get to see the torture and humiliation that they went through.”

“If you can’t stomach showing him what he desires, then I’ll do it. Because we’re not leaving until we get a name out of him. You’re either with the team or you’re not.”

You scoffed. “You’re not the unit chief anymore. I do what Morgan says if we can’t come to an agreement.”

It was bold of you to remind him of his subordinate place. But you were equals now, despite the decade between you two. You didn’t have to listen to his orders if you felt they were wrong.

He reached for the files, but you turned away from him. “I’m going in there. Not you. But I’m going to run the interrogation my way, not exposing these children. If you have a problem with that, you can call Morgan.”

You motioned for the guard to let you back in. You took your seat across from Karl, a smirk still evident on his face.

“What, no Agent Hotchner?”

“You know, yours was one of the first cases I studied,” You started, trying to loosen up the muscles in your face. Going against every natural instinct in your body was making it hard to relax. “I’ve been fascinated ever since. I wanted to tell you sooner, but I was embarrassed with him in the room.”

“You’re embarrassed because you want to know what I did, don’t you.” You pushed out a smile, a little giggle behind it to entice him.

And of course it did. “Yes.”

“I can show you exactly what I did to them.”

“Tell me.” You tilted your head to the side, pushing some hair behind your ear. You were fighting the bile rising in your throat with every word you exchanged with him.

“Children are so precious, so clean. But they need guidance, especially the girls.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why?”

“Girls have much more to lose than boys. It’s a fact, the female body can handle pain much better.” If this wasn’t a serial killer across from you, you’d agree with him and make some jokes about the female anatomy. But he was enjoying this, just like Hotch said. He was pulling you in.

“What did you do to them?”

He smiled. “I showed them, what men, their fathers, and brothers, are capable of.”

“And what is that?”

“Once I killed the children, It always amazed me how little the father fought the inevitable, the dying.”

“I never thought I would get these answers, let alone from the man himself.” You pushed out another smile, because you knew he was holding back. He was almost willing to trust you, he just needed to be groomed a little more.

“It takes a good woman, to make an honest man. And you’re prettier than Agent Hotchner.”

He was dancing around the information now, knowing that he had your time and attention. “Karl, do you know why you killed all those families?”

“I already told you why.”

You dropped the sweet tone, and pushed up on your elbows. “No, you told me how. And your motivations were all driven by sex, motivations you learned from your father.”

You saw him flinch, and you knew you were getting somewhere.

“You assert your dominance by making the father, the head of the household, watch you torture, assault, and take anything you wanted from the people he’s supposed to protect. Now your admirer, they don’t have the same ambitions as you do. And normally, that would bother a man like you. You want to be adored for every single part of your mess. But like you said, they’re an admirer, not a fan. So I’m guessing it’s a woman, who you’ve really come to care for.”

He tugged on his shackled wrists, you clearly got what you were looking for.

“Those women, those girls, they needed to be taught a lesson. How to obey who’s in charge. And you,” he laughed as he inched as far across the table as he could. “The things I would do to you if I weren’t nailed to this table. You’d be done before I could call your name.”

Before you could respond, Hotch came into the room, demanding a name. You stood up, no longer needing to play a role.

“It must be distracting, working with such a beautiful woman everyday.” You didn’t spare him another glance as you heard him mumble out a name to Hotch, finally getting what he wanted: power over you.

“Morgan, we’ve got a name. It’s a female guard in intake. Get everybody here ASAP.” The guard led you and Hotch back down the hallway, through the lion's den, and back to the elevator. Once inside, you let out a breath. Hotch turned to look at you, but you spoke up before he had the chance.

“Don’t ask me to do that ever again.”

You would’ve yelled at him, tore him to pieces in the elevator ride from the fourth floor to the exit, but there was a guard escorting you out. You didn’t want him to have the privilege of watching two FBI agents battle it out. And honestly, you weren’t sure if you had the heart to yell at him after all he’d been through.

But once you were escorted through the exterior gates, your team in sight, you regained the nerve to give Hotch a piece of your mind.

Not before he spoke first though.

“You did exactly what needed to be done. I didn’t ask you to act that way toward him, and I’m sorry you feel that that was your only way in. But I’m not going to apologize for getting the name of the killer.”

“So you would have acted in the same degrading way if the roles were reversed?”

He scoffed. “Yes, I would have. Because unlike you, my feelings don’t impair my judgement or ability to do this job. You’re an asset to this team, you need to find a way to get your emotions in check.”

You stopped walking, turning around to face him. You were in the middle of the driveway now, SWAT and BAU canvassing the scene. But you were going to do this here and now.

“The only reason you brought me here was to appeal to that sick son of a bitch. The only thing that makes me an asset to you is the fact that I have a vagina and you don’t. You turned me from a Supervisory Special Agent into a fighting fuck toy! You watched as I drained every ounce of respect I had for myself to turn into what that psychopath desired, all because I wouldn’t show him pictures of innocent children.” He looked over your shoulder to the team, embarrassed that they were hearing this. “At least have the respect to look at me while I’m talking to you!”

Hotch had never heard you yell like this. You were the calm one, the baby, as Derek called you. No one ever pushed you so far over the edge to get a reaction out of you. At least, not until he did.

“The next time you ask me, JJ, Prentiss, or Garcia to flirt our way into a serial killer's mind, to expect us to degrade ourselves in order to save another woman, I will not hesitate to report you to Strauss.” You could hear footsteps behind you, but you continued on as tears started to form in your eyes. “You used to say that my empathy was what made me an amazing agent. That my ability to connect with victims and families was the reason I’m here. So do not try and make me feel worthless for possessing something that you wish you could have. Because the way you act, with no capability for empathy, is a depressing way to live.”

“Y/n,” Spencer rested a hand on your shoulder, but you shook it off.

“Figure out the man you want to be.”

Before you could say anything else, Spencer dragged you away from Hotch and towards the cars. You could feel the tears freely falling down your cheeks, but you made no effort to remove them. You ignored the stares from the rest of your team, not giving them the satisfaction of knowing what went down in that interrogation room. Instead, you got into the passenger seat of the suburban, and Spencer started the drive back to the office.

Rationally, you knew you went off too hard at him. He never deliberately asked you to flirt with Arnold. He asked you to show him the pictures of Lucy, to get him to crack under the fantasy. But you refused. You would rather make yourself go through that pain than any young child. It’s what you’d always done.

Spencer tried to convince you they hadn’t heard the conversation. That they were all too focused on SWAT’s apprehending of the guard to pay attention.

“Spence,” You started and looked over at him. “We all had our earpieces in. You heard every word.”

And he was silent the rest of the ride back. You were exhausted, and you wanted nothing more than to go home and fall asleep on your couch with reruns playing in the background. But you had a mountain of paperwork to finish, and still needed to debrief when the team got back.

Halfway through your stack, the team came back to the bullpen. Prentiss gave your shoulder a comforting squeeze as she passed by, heading for her desk. Derek had agreed to let everyone go home without debriefing. This was the earliest we’d been done with a case so close to home. We needed to capitalize on our rest.

JJ was the first to go home, excited to be home in time for dinner with Will and Henry. Prentiss and Rossi followed shortly after, going to celebrate the win of this case at an expensive restaurant, at Dave’s expense.

“Come on you two, don’t make me drag you out of here kicking and screaming.” Derek addressed you and Reid as he pulled his coat on.

“We’re right behind you boss man.” Spencer said and turned his desk light off, grabbing his cane. He should be able to ditch all mobility aids soon.

You swung your backpack over a shoulder and turned off your own light. You didn’t even make it out of your four foot space before Hotch called out to you.

“Y/n, could I see you before you leave?” He was standing in front of his office, on higher ground than the rest of us. Power move, you thought to yourself. But he wouldn’t be that petty.

You looked back to Reid and Moran, the former nodding to you before seeing himself to the elevator. Now it was just Spencer, his eyes begging for you to leave.

“I don’t need to remind you how deeply you care for all of us. But if you keep putting yourself out there to comfort him, you’re going to get destroyed.” This was the first time Spencer had mentioned this to you. Sure, you’d been helping Hotch out at home, a little more than normal, but everybody was pitching in. His wife died for god's sake.

“Spence, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He let out a sigh and fidgeted with his cane. You found it at a consignment shop on one of your weekends off, and bought it for him without hesitation. It had an eagle engraved in it’s clutch, something regal, medieval, and screamed Spencer Reid. You ignored the price, a forty dollars more than you would’ve liked to spend on a walking stick, but the look on his face when you gave it to him was priceless.

“You need to stand up for yourself. Nothing excuses the way he treated you today. Regardless of your decision to play a character.”

God, could he read you.

“No pair of rose colored glasses could cloud that. Not even yours.” He gave you one last shadow of a smile before limping his way to the elevator.

Once you regained your composure, you turned to make your way up to Hotch’s office. He was sitting in his chair, staring at the paperwork waiting to be filled out before him. You knocked on the open door, and he stood up without even looking at you. You were going to take Spencer’s advice and stick up for yourself, so you had to set the pace.

“Can this be quick? I wanted to get home before traffic started up.” He rounded the front of his desk, stuffing his hands in his pockets as he leaned against it.

“I’m sorry for the way I treated you back at the prison.” You nodded, not wanting to verbally accept the apology that was due to you hours ago. “I was out of line and completely blinded by the case. I should’ve listened to you and taken your reservations into consideration. It was narcissistic of me to think I was the only one capable of making the right decision.”

“Thank you.” You stuttered out, still absorbing the tone of his voice. His word choice was self deprecating, a cry for help if you didn’t know any better.

“Y/n,” He started but was interrupted by a shaky breath. “I hate that I made you feel like all you’re good for is to romance your way into their heads. You deserve to be treated with respect, to be valued because of your empathy and your psychological understanding of victims and their families. If I’ve ever made you feel like you were worthless before this afternoon, please tell me.”

“No, you’ve never made me feel that way.”

He nodded before turning to grab a piece of paper from his desk.

“Good. Because I’ve written up a complaint for Strauss, describing my behavior and language directed toward you today. You shouldn’t have to wait for a next time to file it.”

He extended the paper to you, and you walked until you were standing in front of him, accepting the complaint into your hands. But you didn’t even read it before tearing it in two.

“What are you doing?”

“Hotch, I’m not filing a complaint against you. Everything that I did today was my choice. You didn’t force me into anything.”

He ran a hand through his hair, the first time you’ve seen it tousled in the office.

“I was uncomfortable showing Arnold those pictures. So I made the choice to play a character, to appeal to his fantasy. You weren’t in the room, and you didn’t suggest that. If anything, you tried more than anything to get me to stick to the script. Did you have some choice words for me that weren’t necessarily appropriate? Yes. But we all have our moments. After we got out of there, I felt sick that I had to do that to get a name out of him. It wasn’t the first time I’ve camouflaged myself for the greater good, and it won’t be the last. I took out the self hatred I had on you, because you were there. Because if I did it your way, I wouldn’t be able to look at myself in the mirror again without feeling ashamed. But you didn’t deserve it.”

“Yes, I do. I deserve to be ridiculed for telling you that your empathy is a weakness. I deserve to be ridiculed for yelling at Garcia for missing something on a search. I deserve,”

His voice broke, and you froze in place. You were about to see Aaron Hotchner cry for the first time in four years. “I deserve to be punished for Haley’s death.”

Your own eyes started to water as you saw a single tear roll down his cheek. Without thinking, you reached forward and held his hands in your own. They were shaking, and he tried to pull them away from you. But you held on tight, you weren’t going anywhere.

“Hotch, look at me.” He kept his gaze on the windows, looking out onto the concrete roof.

“Hotch, please.” You were quieter the second time, and that’s what got him to meet your eyes.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you that you could’ve prevented Haley’s death if you did one thing instead of the other. Because no matter what you did, Foyet would’ve found her, and done this all over again.” He tried to look away from you, but you tugged on his hands, begging him to stay. “But what you did prevent, was Foyet taking away the greatest thing you and Haley ever made. You saved your son, Hotch. And you ended Foyet’s reign of terror. You get to spend every day reminding Jack how amazing his mother was. How strong, resilient, and fierce she was. How she looked death in the eye and didn’t even flinch. You get to live the rest of your life for your son.”

He nodded and closed his eyes, letting the few remaining tears fall down his face. You let your own fall with the reprieve of no longer being under his stare, not wanting to fall apart when he needed you.

“I love her. I never stopped loving her. The divorce, it wasn’t because of that. It was because of this job.”

You squeezed his hands before letting them go, letting him wipe off his face.

“I know. And I know she never stopped loving you.”

You never thought you would get to this moment when you first met Haley. You let out a small laugh while remembering your first encounter, how pregnant and angry she was at Hotch.

“What?” You smiled and shook your head.

“I’m just remembering the first time I met her. She was pregnant, she called you a robot, and was cracking jokes left and right to try and get you to crack.”

That got him to smile. “I could always make her laugh when we were younger. She had the funniest, most embarrassing laugh. But it was Haley. And it was addicting.”

You wanted him to remember her like this, with a smile on her face and the loving soul she was.

“I truly am sorry for what I said to you, but you have to know I didn’t mean it.”

You nodded. “I know you didn’t. Just apologize to Garcia in the morning, and get home to Jack. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gave you a small smile as you picked up your backpack.

Spencer’s words stung in your ears while you were holding Hotch’s hands. You loved everyone on this team as your family. And Hotch needed you to be there for him a lot more over the last two months. Sure, you’d brushed off some harsh conversations with him considering the circumstances, but you knew when it went too far, like today.

“Y/n,” His voice pulled you from your thoughts, stopping you at the door. “Thank you.”

You nodded. “Of course.”

Maybe you did care too much for people. But if it helped them get back to normal, you’ll continue wearing those rose colored glasses a little while longer.

***

March 2010

“I’m grocery shopping. Because I have no food in my apartment and I never thought I’d say this, but I’m sick of eating pizza.” You threw a box of cheerios in your cart, careful not to hit the eggs on their way in.

“That’s how you’re spending your saturday? Our first saturday off in a month?”

“Well, unless I want to spend another twenty bucks on one meal, I’ve gotta do my grown up chores.” “You need to get your butt back home so we can go out and drink.”

Emily was relentless, to say the least. Every single weekend you had off, her number popped up on your phone the minute you got home. She hated resting in her own solitude, and tried to drag you along for any activity she could think of. Shopping, drinking, walking around the national mall, and, in desperate cases, running. But her record wasn’t stellar in getting you to attend.

“I’m spending the afternoon with my couch, a book that has taken me too long to read, and probably eat an entire bag of smartfood.” You chucked a box of granola bars in your cart too when you heard a kid cry. You turned to the end of the aisle, but the parent was blocking the child. “Besides, it’s dinner tonight at Hotch’s.”

“He canceled this morning. Rossi was supposed to call and let you know.” You rolled your eyes. Of course Dave forgot.

“Daddy! I want the poptarts!” You heard the kid yell out again. But you knew that voice, and you couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face.

“Em, I’ll see you on Monday. Have a shot for me.”

“I’ll have two.”

You laughed as you hung up the phone, pushing the cart over to your favorite little boy on the planet. You didn’t think to give the father another glance when you didn’t recognize him, but that’s because Aaron Hotchner is never without a suit at the office. He was dressed in jeans now and a quarter zip, looking like a normal dad.

When you approached the two boys, Jack was leaning against the shelf, tears streaming down his cheeks as he kicked his feet against the ground.

“It looks like SSA Hotchner could use some help profiling his son.”

Hotch was quick to stand up, meeting your eye. You only smiled while crouching down to Jack’s level.

“Hey little man, what’s the problem here?” He wiped the tears from his cheeks, and your heart broke at the redness in his eyes.

“Daddy won’t let me get any pop tarts.”

“That’s because you ate the whole box in one day without my permission.” Aaron argued back.

You hid your laugh in your shoulder, not wanting to upset Jack any more. But Hotch had already caused him to spiral into a meltdown again.

“Jack, have you ever had ants on a log?” He shook his head, tears continuing down his chubby cheeks. “Well, they were my favorite snack when I was little. It’s celery, peanut butter, and raisins all set up on a plate. And the best part is, you get to make it yourself! Now, I know how much you love peanut butter, and I bet if you ate this snack, Daddy will let you get poptarts the next time you go grocery shopping.”

“Okay.” He said and nodded his little head. “But I’m sick of grocery shopping.”

“Me too buddy.” I sat down next to him. “I do not like having to walk up and down these aisles searching for food. So, why don’t we sit here while daddy finishes his list?”

You spared a glance at Hotch and his practically full basket. You knew he would be done in ten minutes if you stayed here with Jack.

“Are you sure?” Aaron asked and you nodded.

“‘Course. I don’t need food that bad anyway.” He sighed and made his way back to his carriage.

You pulled a piece of paper and a pen out of your purse and handed it to Jack.

“Aunt Jessica told me that you know how to write your name now. Can you show me?”

He sat up straight, laying the paper down on the floor. You watched as he made a loopy uppercase J, followed with big and small letters to spell out the rest of his name.

“That’s awesome buddy. What about your last name?”

“Hotchner!” He yelled out and you laughed.

“Yeah, let me spell it out for you.” You wrote it out on the paper and it took him a few minutes to copy down.

“You’re turn now, y/n.” He handed you the pen and you wrote your name down, saying the letters as you wrote them. Jack repeated you, and it made you laugh. You forgot that kids were such sponges.

By the time you finished writing Aaron and Haley’s names for Jack, Hotch was back with his cart. “Alright buddy, it’s time for us to go. We gotta let y/n finish her grocery shopping.”

“No! I want y/n to come home with us for dinner. She was helping me spell everyone's names!”

You smiled as you stood up, giving Jack a hand. “Maybe next time buddy. But you gotta get home to try those ants on a log.”

“Actually, we’re making pizzas for dinner, Jack’s saturday choice. You can come over, if you don’t have any plans already.” You’d never heard Hotch this nervous before. It made you laugh a little.

“I’d love to. Only if I get to put extra cheese on my pizza though.”

“Of course!” Jack exclaimed and you matched his smile.

“Awesome! I’ll let you two pay for all this food and I’ll meet you at your house okay?” Jack nodded before running to the front of the cart.

“You sure you don’t have any plans? I don’t want you to give up another saturday night at my expense,”

“Hotch there is nothing more exciting than spending my weekends with the cutest four year old on the planet.” He smiled, but you knew he still wasn’t convinced. “Besides, every other twenty-nine year old I know is in a stuffy club in uncomfortable clothes. This is much more my pace.”

He nodded, a small smile on his face. “Okay. We’ll meet you at the apartment in a half an hour.”

“Sounds good. See you soon Jack!” You waved to the little boy and quickly tried to finish buying the staples that could get you through a few days at home.

You got home and quickly put your food away, making sure everything that needed to be refrigerated was chilled. You switched your t-shirt for a long sleeve tee, opting for sneakers instead of boots. Comfort was the utmost importance on days off.

It took you twenty minutes to get to Hotch’s apartment from yours, arriving at five on the dot. You were known for, and proud of your punctuality. Hotch answered the door after two knocks, and you couldn’t help but focus on the noise of three different locks unlocking.

He greeted you with a slight nod of the head, button down replacing his quarter zip.

“Do you even own comfortable clothes?” “This is comfortable.” You rolled your eyes, as he took the poptarts from your hands, raising his eyebrow at you.

“Didn’t I just have this fight with my four year old son about not buying these?” He asked as he let you in the house.

“Yes, but I’m the fun dinner guest. I bring the treats for the children.”

He tried to hide the small huff of a laugh that escaped his lips, but you still caught it. “You will be the death of me.”

You let out a laugh as he led you into the kitchen, putting them away on the top cabinet. I reached for my hip and pulled my holster off, putting it on the counter.

“Do you have somewhere I can put this? Last thing I need is to drop it while I throw up my pizza dough.” He unlocked the drawer in his desk, placing it in there before locking it back up.

You heard tiny footsteps running down the hall. “Y/n! It’s pizza time!”

You smiled as he tugged at your legs. “I know! I’m so excited!”

“Alright buddy, you’re up first. Show y/n how we properly throw our pizza dough in the air.” Hotch pushed a step stool over to the counter, waiting for Jack to step up. The grin on the little boy's face was ginormous as he powdered his hands with flour, taking the small ball of dough Hotch separated for him.

The two of you were on either side of Jack, each ready to follow his lead in the process. “Ok, on the count of three. One, two, three!”

You spun the dough in your hands before throwing it in the air, watching it separate the slightest bit. Jack’s giggles filled the apartment as he let his dough fall onto the counter. Aaron shook his head, you could tell this part of the meal was always a struggle for the little boy.

You watched as Jack spread out the miniscule amount of sauce he wanted along his crust, topping it off with a mountain of cheese. You taught him the more cheese, the better, and he clearly still believed you. You added some pepperoni to your own oval shaped pie, unsuccessful in making a perfect circle crust. But, not everyone could be the perfect Italian chef like David Rossi.

While the pizza’s were in the oven, the three of you sat down to play a few rounds of Candyland. You hadn’t played since your time at DCFS, and you forgot how there was no real objective to the game. It certainly wasn’t your game of choice, but Jack was still a little young to be able to contend with you in a game of monopoly. A few more years, you thought.

Once the pizza’s were done, Jack helped you set the table as Hotch cut the pies. You felt a little out of place, crossing some very important boundaries by having dinner with just the two Hotchner boys. This saturday was much different than the ones you spent when the whole team was over, Henry and Jack putting on dance parties for the guests.

You started to become more aware of your actions around the apartment; how you knew where the placemats were kept, that Jack used his purple cup for milk at dinner, and the strict no electronics rule at the table. However, that had been established by Haley years ago. The thought of her had a shot of guilt running through your stomach, sitting down with her family for dinner, just three and a half months after she’d passed.

You’d been thinking a lot about what Spencer had said that night at the BAU. He was vague, too vague for the doctor that could tell you how long he’d been alive down to the second. After a few sleepless nights, you called the doctor in question and demanded he explain himself. But after his admission, you quickly regretted having all the information.

Spencer Reid has known you for almost five years now, and has seen you through the moments that have shaped your adult life. Killing Stephanie Moore, testifying in the fisher king case, being your excusing phone call from multiple dates, and holding your hand as you took in one of your former foster siblings from a bad relationship. There was absolutely nothing in your life that could be hidden from him.

So when he told you he noticed your feelings for Hotch ‘about two years ago’, you nearly stopped dead in your pacing tracks. Not because you didn’t know your own feelings for the man, but because you didn’t realize it had been that long. That he had been married to Haley, albeit only for a month longer, that you started to notice how handsome your boss was. Upon hearing the truth out loud, and from another person, you ran to the bathroom and threw up a few times.

You were so embarrassed, so ashamed of caring for someone that couldn’t be yours. For caring for someone who’s wife you truly adored. After the third round of puking, Spencer reassured you through the phone that it wasn’t your fault. We can’t control who we love. And yes, he said love.

“Are you okay y/n?” Jack’s little voice pulled you from your thoughts. You smiled at his sauce covered face and nodded.

“Yeah, I’m fine. How’s your pizza, Jack?”

“Awesome! Daddy is the best pizza cooker ever!”

“You sure you’re okay? You look a little pale,” Aaron commented and referenced your plate. You hadn’t taken a bite.

“I’m good, really. Just thinking about how I’m going to make a bigger lego tower than Jack after dinner.”

That got the little boy to laugh, successfully switching the conversation to Jack’s favorite toys. But you noticed the glaces Hotch snuck your way, not believing you for a second. You were an awful liar.

The longer the three of you sat at the table, the larger your smile grew around these boys. Seeing Hotch being able to relax and really enjoy his time with Jack always brought a smile to your face. He was a natural father, sliding into the role of playmate and swaddler, cuddler and soother. You even remember him helping JJ out with Henry’s swaddle at work one day.

But you knew he felt guilty, not being able to be present in his son’s life everyday. You saw it in the hundred’s of views of the video of Jack’s first steps, the late night phone calls while away on a case just to say goodnight to his little boy. He missed out on a lot of the baby years, and he would be making it up to Jack for the rest of his life, with nights like these. With the whole weekend devoted to Jack Hotchner’s favorite things, minus the sugary pop tarts. Hotch had mastered the duality of being a Supervisory Special Agent for the FBI, and the loving father to Jack Hotchner. It was one of the reasons why you started caring so much for him.

“Alright Jack, you can build one tower with y/n, then it’s bath time and off to bed.” You saw the pout on Jack’s face as Hotch cleared our plates, and you helped him off the chair.

“Come on, maybe if we’re quick enough we can make two.”

He giggled as he led you to his room, stuffed animals and toys galore. This boy won’t want for a thing.

“Okay, you make a big blue one, I’ll do purple.”

You finished much quicker than the four year old, but under no circumstances would he let you sit and watch him make his masterpiece. Instead, since you had nearly two and a half feet on him, you stacked your tower on top of his and continued adding pieces to make it bigger. He cheered you on as it started to reach your head, and you were getting excited yourself. Until, it came to a crashing fall with the last green piece on top.

“Noo!” Jack yelled out, trying to catch the falling pieces.

“It’s okay Buddy, you can always make another one.” Aaron’s voice trying to soothe his son caught both you and the little guy’s attention.

The two of you turned to see Hotch leaning in the doorway, arms crossed over his chest. You wondered how long he’d been standing there.

“And maybe next time, we can make one as big as daddy.”

Hotch let out a laugh as Jack smiled at you in amazement. He liked how your brain worked.

“Bath time, bud. We gotta get your face cleaned up from all that pizza sauce, and ship you off to bed.”

“But y/n’s here,” He whined, not wanting the lego fun to end.

“Well I have to get home and take a shower too, bud. Don’t worry, there’s plenty more playdates in your future.” You said and stood up, giving the little boy a high five.

“Go wait for me in the bathroom okay, I’m gonna walk y/n out.”

“Okay. Bye bobo.” He said and ran off to the bathroom, leaving you speechless in his bedroom.

“You let him be around Derek Morgan way too much.”

“Probably. But you can’t compete with the guy who brings over a new lego set every weekend.” Hotch got your gun for you, walking you back to the front door.

“Are you kidding? You’re his hero, Hotch. He asked me last week if I was a superhero like daddy.” He cracked a smile, but his eyes were glued to the floor, unable to meet your own.

“Why did you cancel dinner tonight?” He sighed and lifted his head. You’d been wanting to ask him since you were at the grocery store. The team had been coming over for three months now, and it was something we all started to look forward to.

“I was sick of feeling like a burden to you all. I mean, asking you all to give up your Saturday nights, sometimes our only free night of the week to spend in my depressing apartment, it had been enough.” If only you could show this man how much the team cared for him through your eyes, he would never doubt his worth another day in his life.

“Hotch, the highlight of my week is coming here to be with you all. My family. Watching Henry and Jack play with each other, listening to Spencer and Penelope fight over who the true godparent is, and getting to be on the receiving end of Rossi’s awesome cooking?”

He nodded, mumbling an ‘I know’ a few times under his breath. But he needed to know that as much as you all come here for Jack, you guys care for Aaron and his well being just as much.

“I come here every saturday to make sure that Aaron Hotchner has not dressed in a suit for the sixth day in a row, and to make sure he knows that he’s doing such an amazing job with Jack. That he is being the best father, friend, and boss, that he can be.”

This time, his eyes were locked on yours as you got a real Aaron Hotchner smile out of him, dimples and all. You couldn’t help but make a check mark in the air, the team tally still going strong. He playfully rolled his eyes as you swung your bag across your shoulder.

“So who’s in the lead now?”

“Me, for the last six months. I can’t be dethroned.” You felt your cheeks grow warm, hoping he wouldn’t think too much into your stat keeping.

“Well, that seems like a pretty accurate tally.”

You made sure it was. And selfishly, you hoped no one else could get that beautiful smile to cross his face like you could.

“Thank you for coming over. We both had a lot of fun.”

“I did too. I’m around anytime, my tower building skills are not occupied for many other people.” He let out a laugh as he opened the door for you.

“Goodnight y/n. Let me know when you get home.”

“I will. Night, Hotch.”

You got home in twenty minutes, texting Aaron as you walked through your door. Quickly changing into pajamas and throwing Legally Blonde into the DVD player, your phone dinged at a new message.

It was from Hotch, a picture attached to the message. It was of Jack, towel wrapped around his head, eyes shut from grinning so wide. ‘He wanted me to send this to you. He said, ‘this is how happy I am that y/n was here tonight.’ Thanks again for everything. Goodnight.”

You couldn’t help the tears that pooled in your eyes at the sweet little boy in the picture, and his amazing dad behind the camera.

****

tags: @simplyprentiss @michaelahah @ssahotchner99 @svrgicalhands @hotchtopic @unionjackpillow @philcoolson @tommhollandzxhaz @kathleenjasmine @canimarrypizzaornah @reaperwalking @inlovewithaaronhotchner @shelbymm11 @mrshotchner23 @tropicalwrites

#aaron hotchner x female! reader #aaron hotchner x female!reader #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #aaron hotchner

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lollybliz · 4 years

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bout to make a Monster of a fic rec post here we go

heyo @jinx108! We’ll start with the complete ones because sometimes you’re just not in the mood to wait for the last chapter, you know? I don't remember details of all of these so i’m just going to copy the author’s summary rather than write my own. I am literally just going through my bookmarks, I got 400 of these to sort through. if ive talked to or am familiar with the author im gonna mention them, but if I mention you and you don't want me to have Please tell me and i’ll remove it.

If you’re not into spoilers Please Tread Carefully, I don't watch out for that stuff so I wont know to label it

1>Crushing Truth by Bunzuku: Tododeku. “Romance is hard enough for a teenager to understand when they have a good relationship role model. For Shoto, it takes two excited meddlers for him to even realize what his feelings really are.“

2>Disowned by b00mgh: tododeku + others. Unrated, some traumatic elements. “Shouto freaks out under a bridge and I use the word "grass" a lot more than I really should. Izuku does his stupid martyr thing and everyone makes continuous references to his propensity to break his bones. Aizawa goes "oh FUCK my kids are dying again" and his students use him as emotional (and physical) support. A friend requests angst, I say what kind, she say idk make someone get disowned and i say oh this I can absolutely provide my good buddy.”

3>cotton candy hands by @chonideno: Kiribaku. I will take Any excuse to rec this fic, its the most fluffy pile of feels Good Lord. also the first fic I ever bound into a physical book. “Studying to become a hero requires knowing how to take care of yourself. Sometimes you might need help on the way so if your crush offers to do your hair for you or to give you a well-deserved back rub, it'd be stupid to say no. A series of soft vignettes in which a love-struck Kirishima and a touch-starved Bakugou care for each other and it's definitely not making their hearts jump through hoops, they’re never this close to kissing, no, they're totally best friends bro“

4>Catching Sight of the Storm by neo7v: Kiribaku, tododeku. A considerable amount of Whump and related angst, and kinda sad tbh. “Blind. Quirkless. Useless.The first two things were stated clearly by the doctor that sat about five feet in front of Izuku. The third was a word that Kacchan called him everytime he failed to make the jump on whatever forest excursion they were on or when he ran into a tree because he hadn’t seen it. “I’m so, so sorry, Izuku.” Was his mom giving up on him already? But he could still be a hero if he tried hard enough, right? Quirkless or not. Blind or not. Just because Izuku was useless now didn’t mean he would stay that way forever, right? *** A Blind!Izuku AU”

5>Yell Heah by fakecharliebrown: Chatfic. M a n y pairings. technically complete, but part of an ongoing series. “Iida creates a group-chat for Class 1-A. It doesn't go as planned.“

6>Sunshine by Rosey_Note: BIG SAD. tw- failed suicide attempt. KiriKamiBaku. “They didn't deserve to put up with his crappy mood. Because Denki Kaminari did not feel like Sunshine right now. And they deserved sunshine. In fact, Denki didn't feel much of anything right now.“

7>Electric Connection by Onlymostydead: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk has always had... Weird side affects. Like his ADHD. And his constant energy. And his insomnia, which wouldn't leave him be right now, when he really needed to just get some sleep. But, thankfully, he has good friends.“

8>The Best (The Worst) by Onlymostydead: no romantic pairing. tw- rampant transphobia, both outside and internalized. “Bakugou Katsuki has known who he was since he was four years old. He was a boy, it was as simple as that. Around his friends, at school... But things couldn't just be that simple, could they?“

9>Lichtenberg Figures by Q_loves_you: no definite romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki has a very powerful force of nature running through his body. Kaminari Denki doesn't want to hurt anybody. He doesn't always get what he wants, and "anybody" does generally include himself.“

10>Eventuality by KikaTouka: ill be honest I don't remember this one at all, I maaaay not have read it yet :/. anyway. ShinKami. “Shinsou learns more than just hero lessons after being transferred to 1-A.“

11>Pickup Lines for the Soul by MustardSoup: ShinKami. “Denki is twelve when he is flicking through the TV channels and lands on an old RomCom movie about soulmate marks – specifically the same type that he has. “I can’t believe I’ve had to walk around with a cheap pickup line written on my ankle my entire life because of you!” The leading lady yells at the leading man as he stares at her in awe. Denki laughs. “Oh no.” His mother says, watching him. “Oh no, indeed.” His sister repeats quietly.“

12>caught in my own web by @anxioussailorsoldier: ShinKami. “Shinsou needs some help after getting caught up in his capture weapon. Kaminari enters from stage left.“

13>not so summer love by nataliya: ShinKami. “Class 2-B’s common room, although typically quiet, was currently filled with five students—three slowly giving up on homework, one bitching about noise and another that rushes through the front door. “We’ve been waiting for you—” Mina starts, but Kaminari’s vaulting over the back of the couch, eyes wide as he practically buzzes out of his skin, emitting light like crazy as currents dazzle across strands of hair. “I have a big ugly crush,” He steps off the couch and onto the coffee table, much to Bakugou’s chagrin, “On big ugly Shinsou.””

14>Blamed by coldandhotsoba: ShinKami. Tw- they fuckin kill a guy and its a lil nasty. “This was not how the day was supposed to end. They were supposed to end the day like they do most nights. Kaminari clutching onto him like a koala as he slept, wrapped in the millions of tacky blankets Kaminari had bought. Warm and safe in their bed. It was not supposed to end with both of them tied up in some cold metal room.“

15>Lightning Scars by Present-Mics-Scream (write_your_way_out): Shinkami. “It's hard to be confident in your abilities when you're surrounded by people with incredible quirks. Shinsou Hitoshi would know better than anyone. Sure, he was admitted to the hero course in his second year, but being admitted to the hero course, and keeping up with the rest of the class are two different things. Lucky for him, Kaminari is there to prove that the flashiest quirks come with the largest drawbacks.“

16>See No Evil, Hear No Evil by randomfan188: no romantic pairing. “Kaminari Denki is legally blind. When he forgets to wear his contacts and breaks down during math class, comfort appears in the strangest of ways.“

17>how not to enjoy the weather, an article by kaminari denki by dreamtowns: no defined romantic pairing. “If there was one thing Kaminari hated the most in a world wth villains, it would have to be thunderstorms.“

18>”Studying” by emmyrox22: ShinKami, EraserMic. “Shinsou and Kaminari have been “studying” together for a while (but not for school). Shinsou gets stopped by his dads on the way to another “study” session and mistakes are made“

19>Weaknesses by sunflowerstorm: ShinKami. “Kaminari's quirk and storms compliment each other in the worst way, but he's convinced he can deal with it on his own... until he really can't any longer. When Shinsou accidentally overhears Aizawa confronting Kaminari about recent changes in behaviour and hears about the hell his quirks been putting him through, he can't just pretend he never heard. He wants to help.“

20>it’s hurt denki hours by memeingfultrash: ShinKami + others. ““Certain members of our class are...under the impression that...you’re the traitor.” Denki’s body went cold and felt like he was going to short circuit. ~some of class 1a believes that denki is the traitor and avoid him”

21>Petition to replace Mineta with Shinsou- (signed by Kaminari Denki) by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami + others. This is one of my favorites, I go back to reread it from time to time. It SAYS 41/42, but that's just a glitch cus chapter 36 doesn't exist for some reason, I talked to the author about it and its fine. “Mineta brings shame to the color purple. You know who does not bring shame to the rich color, but pride and sexual tension to one infatuated Kaminari Denki instead? Shinsou Hitoshi, aka sexy zombie man, aka the most perfect hunk of a man to walk planet earth, aka future husband. Shinsou has finally gotten his chance to prove himself to the hero course, and he did more than prove himself. The only question left unanswered is whether he will start in A or B, and how Kaminari can manipulate the end result.“

22>How to Get a Boyfriend (in Four Easy Steps!) by e1ana: ShinKami, EraserMic, + others. “Step 1: Get kicked out of the house by your homophobic parents. Step 2: Run headfirst into your brooding, mysterious crush. Step 3: Sleep in his dad’s (see: your homeroom teacher) house Step 4: Watch everything you thought you knew go to shit. This isn’t exactly the sweet, romantic plan that Kaminari Denki longed for. Will everything be ok, or will step 5 be to crash and burn?“

23>Bakugou and Todoroki’s Foolproof 5-Step Plan to Fuck with Mineta Minoru by Anubis_2701: Kiribaku, TodoDeku, + others. This is another one of my favorites, and the one I am currently folding and sewing into a physical book. you learn how to do funny things when bored and quarantined ig. “It was a simple enough idea; screw around with the resident bastard of Class 1-A to let him know that his medieval ways and perverted behaviour weren't going to be tolerated by even the most career-focused of UA's students. To say that things had snowballed was an understatement. Todoroki had no idea how he had ended up sitting on Bakugou's floor at 1 am, holding a dossier of incriminating material that would make the FBI slobber, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know. The long and short of it was, fuck Mineta.”

24>Colour Theory by chancellorxofxtrash: TodoBakuDeku. this one’s a series. “Midoriya/Bakugo/Todoroki slow burn soulmate AU. All three of them are nerds with their own emotional issues, trying to navigate their way through becoming heroes, and their own relationship with each other.“

25>Summer Sunshine by Mara97: TodoDeku. Ever want a Barbie in a mermaid tale/Bnha crossover? No? well here you go anyway! “Instead of worrying about college, Izuku spends his summer vacation finding out his father is, supposedly, a dead merman king and going on a quest to dethrone the current king, Endeavor. Along the way, Izuku becomes close to the three journeying with him, makes friends with strangers, starts crushing on an unattainable prince, and, in the end, learns to love himself. Oh, and he saves a kingdom, too.“

26>The snowflakes on our skin and the flames in our soul are one (and the same), my love by missunderstuffyou: TodoDeku, Kiribaku. this is one of the ones I keep a running reread comment going on. its at,,, 6, atm. “Before your quirk begins to present itself, the soulmate link comes through, and suddenly whatever you write upon your own skin appears on the body of your soulmate. As your soulmate writes to you, the emotions they feel follow through the ink.Izuku Midoriya is four years and a few months old when he first feels the slight ebbing in his arms. It doesn’t hurt… he can just feel something, and it’s enough to make him sprint into his mother’s arms screaming that his quirk is coming. She had been washing in the kitchen, and the sudden screech as her son rockets into her side is enough to make her jump with panic, immediately grabbing at him and looking for cuts and bumps before she understands his words and the stupidly bright, alight smile on his face with large, watery, hopeful eyes. Shoto Todoroki doesn’t feel his soulmate connection open up. It is drowned in the aches of a small body worked far too hard.“

27>It was dark inside the closet by Chad_Champion69420: Pre-ShinDeku? maybe? its tagged shindeku but like. it’ll make sense if you read it. “Midoriya is invited to a party. He and Shinsou decide to play a little trick on the rest of the party during Seven Minutes in Heaven.”

28>how to woo your local trash gremlin: a comprehensive guide by Todoroki shouto by wonhaebunny: TodoBaku. this is the fic that dragged me into todobaku, fun fact. “five times shouto tries to confess to bakugou, and one time he doesn't bother tryingaka: wikihow is a scam and bakugou is a terrible, terrible boy“

29>top ten photos taken right before disaster by Shookspeare: ShinDeku. “Izuku participates in a harmless prank, only to end up ruining it and running for dear life.“

30>Secrets to Share by pechebaie: no definite romantic pairing. “Kirishima comes out first, and nothing changes. Kirishima and Kaminari still hang out to complain about class and talk about boys - and sometimes girls, too, in Kaminari’s case; he still plans stupid pranks with Sero that get them sent to the principal’s or nurse’s office every time; Ashido still kicks his ass at Mario Kart without hesitation; and Bakugou doesn’t get angry at him any more than he usually does.“

31>What One Hides by Pinalinet: TodoDeku. “All Might gives class 1-A an unusual assignment that results in Midoriya Izuku and Todoroki Shouto attending a weekly acting class. But with a mysterious villain targeting individuals without Quirks, and a developing issue of Todoroki's own, an after-school assignment is the least of their worries.“

32>whether or not we’re fated, we’re meant to be by juurensha: KINDA SPOILERY. TodoDeku + others. “Todoroki didn’t have a soulmark for most of his life.His siblings all did, but up until the day of the U.A. entrance exam, he had shoved the idea aside. It’s not like they could help him anyway. And then a 9 appears on his chest, and a green-haired boy barrels into his life with a fire and ice soulmark on his arms, and suddenly Todoroki cares very much about all this could mean.”

33>The Midnight Shift by meiishu @meiishu @totallytodoroki (idk which you’d rather I attach so I went with both): ShinKami. ““Hey Toshi,” Denki says, and he laughs, clearly embarrassed. He’s got on a jean jacket that did him absolutely no help and a white tee shirt that is currently stuck to his torso. It’s got a pikachu design in the center. “By any chance, do you sell umbrellas?” “You really went out in this weather.” Hitoshi deadpans, instead of dignifying that with an answer. or hitoshi works the midnight shift at the gas station, which also doubles as a pokestop for pokemon go. of course, denki is a regular.”

34>Rock the House by AkabaneKayo: ShinKami. “It wasn’t just his bed. It was his entire fucking room shaking. Only one thought crossed his mind at that moment: “Holy shit. My room is haunted.”“

35>Technically, they’re morning kisses by CharaTheQuartz: ShinKami. “Most nights, Shinsou cannot fall sleep. Neither can Kaminari. It seems counterproductive to have a sleepover then, but they try to make it work. And they fail, but that is okay.“

36>someone to call mine by nearly_theyre: ShinKami, EraserMic “From: Me wish you were here, denks From: kitten 💛💘💛 what if i was tho? OR Four times Denki snuck into Hitoshi's room and one time he walked through the front door.“

37>Pretty by Onlymostydead (noticing some repeat authors? me too): no definite romantic pairing. “(Or, Kaminari still can't figure out bra clasps.) Kaminari has never really felt good about himself. Herself? Whichever way, not knowing doesn't make anything easier. Especially when he (she?) and Mina have their bodies swapped during training, and everything seems too right.“

38>If I offer you my hand, will you take it? by bleukitsune: Kiribaku. SPOILERY. ““Why?” Kirishima leaned back on his hands, trying to create some space between them. Too close. The ash-blond looked really nervous, his usually arrogant and cunning demeanor gone. “What do you see when you look at me? Kirishima is worried. Bakugou is hurting. After his confrontation with Midoriya, he finally reaches out to him. “

Theres way more but I haven't tagged them properly yet so that m a y come later if I can ever finish going through and adding my sorting tags.

and then a last few that Are Not Complete but im really very fond of them. not as many as id like to add, but my hands are getting tired tbh.

39>State of Mind by GuardianOfTheLoaf: no relationship YET but its looking like it’ll be either tododeku or shindeku, probably the former. EraserMic. tw- childhood neglect and severe depression. Izuku’s not a happy kid. “Izuku was a late bloomer, his quirk lying dormant until his tenth birthday when in a fit of emotion he grabs his mother and she disappears. With All Might slowly restoring his confidence Izuku begins the difficult journey into becoming a hero.“ 18/? chapters.

40>Izuku Eats His Problems by CosmicAce: ShinDeku. Izuku’s a flerkin, what more could you want? “His whole life, Izuku Midoriya was taught to keep his powers, his Quirk, hidden from the world. His kind were feared, hunted to near extinction because of it. He just wants to show people he’s different. That he can be a HERO. And nothing is going to stop him. Even if his Quirk IS like an eldritch abomination.“ 43/? chapters

and then probably my current favorite bnha fic- although it fights with Apertum Mortem for that spot but that ones d a r k and not here-

41>family of the year by periiwren: EraserMic. “Hitoshi is done. Done with moving around every few months to a couple that will scrutinize him and eventually dump him right back where he started. Good thing he’s well past his strike limit now- at least he can stay in one place, be content to age out of the system and finish out his training with Aizawa. Maybe transfer into the hero course, maybe be a hero- but none of that was guaranteed. The only thing for sure was that he was going to stay in that center for the rest of his childhood. Or so he thought- because Aizawa Shouta and Yamada Hizashi have other plans.“ 24/? chapters. we’ve been informed that this one’s gonne be l o n g and im Very Grateful.

42>Here There Be Dragons by here_and_there: pre-ShinDeku. “Izuku looked at the small circle Aizawa had motioned to in front of them. "I won't fit," he whispered, thinking. He raised his hand, tentatively. Sighing, Aizawa grumbled, "What?" "I-I have a question. Actually, two." His teacher just stared at him, unimpressed. Izuku continued. "Can we activate our quirks before we step into the ring?" Aizawa looked up into the sky, muttering something Izuku didn't hear. "If you must." "O-Okay. Uh, second question. You said we have to stay inside the circle, right?" "Yes." The man looked disappointed, not only in Izuku but in himself for letting the kid speak. "Great. Uh... does that include tails?"“ 6/? chapters.

43>Another Option by sandersonsister: TodoBakuDeku, Touya/Hawks, Dabi/Hawks. Potentially Spoilery, depends on whether horikoshi has the guts to confirm Touya. this one is waiting around the corner with a baseball bat, its really cute, and then r e a l l y painful. it might be getting better though. maybe. it might be getting worse. “When Touya stops his mother from hurting Shouto, he decides enough is enough. He needs to get out of this house and he's taking his baby brother with him.“ 33/? chapters.

That's it i’m done for now, oof. maybe ill edit more onto this post later, maybe i’ll just make another one. hope some of these work!

#fic rec #bnha #mha #tododeku #todobakudeku #kiribaku #shinkami #shindeku #erasermic #To Be Continued

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taehyungiejiminie95 · 4 years

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Namjoon – He’s about to get discharged

Warning – May be upsetting to some readers

“Are you awake?” Namjoon mumbles, the low timbre of his morning voice tickling the base of your neck as he tries to curl around you. Your eyes are too sore with tiredness to open, but you are awake. You nod, hearing him sniff as the movement thrusts your hair into his nose, “I’m really scared about leaving. I know it sounds stupid because everyone does it and they always come home, but I still can’t help worrying,” He admits to you. Still unable to open your eyes, you shift around under the covers until your face is pressed into Namjoon’s neck, breathing him in for the last time in two years,

“It’s okay to worry. I doubt anyone goes off to serve their duty without being at least a little apprehensive,” You murmur, moving your hands to caress his shoulders soothingly, “It’s scary. I’m scared for you, even though I know the chances of you ever being in any kind of actual combat is so slim. But it’s okay. It’s natural,” Namjoon groans low in his throat in response, wrapping his arms even tighter around your form. He kisses you gently on the forehead, trying to treasure this memory of holding you, knowing he may not feel it again until he’s discharged,

“Thank you,” His breathy reply comes, the clear edges around his voice starting to blur as you’re pulled out of your dream. It’s coming closer and closer to Namjoon’s discharge date – one month, two weeks and four days – so you’ve been having more and more of these dreams. Memories with him, things you want to do when he gets home, just small tastes of the happiness you felt when you were with him. It’s getting closer and closer every day and you really can feel it.

With a small groan, you swing your legs out of bed and force yourself to get up. After Namjoon had left for the military, you’d found it seriously hard. Getting up was the worst part, you didn’t believe you could do it for even a second. The only reason you did was for your young daughter, just barely 4 years old back then. She would come in as dawn started to break, sniffling as she climbed into bed with you. She missed him too. Namjoon had hardly been away for a week before all of this – he’d fly the both of you out during tours so you wouldn’t have time to miss him too much. It was something of a shock for her when her daddy kissed her goodbye, promising to call and write as often as he could. Telling her day after day that daddy wasn’t coming home just yet was heart breaking. She just didn’t understand why he wasn’t here anymore.

It’s not as bad now. Her 6th birthday wasn’t too long ago, and Namjoon had managed to find the time to record a video message for her! The way young Jaehwa’s face lit up made that heaviness inside of your heart lift for just a few precious seconds. It was beautiful.

So, yeah. It’s been a real journey, but with your husband’s return in sight, everything felt just a little bit less challenging. You’ve already started to plan his Welcome Home party, complete with all the people he missed most (but not so many that it becomes overwhelming), his very favourite foods (his letters told you which ones he missed the most) and a few presents to see him home properly. A new book set from his favourite author, a new polaroid camera and a booking to the grand opening of an art gallery opening a few weeks after his homecoming. Everything is going to be perfect,

“48 days left, sweetheart. Daddy is going to be so proud of you,” You say encouragingly to Jaehwa as she sits down for breakfast. Your little girl has grown up so well over the last two years! Namjoon and you made sure to pick out the perfect school for her to start in while he was away, and she looks so sweet in her uniform. She takes pride in her work and is very popular in her class. Namjoon told you (on one of his incredibly rare phone calls) that he keeps that photo of you and her from her first day of school that you sent him in his breast pocket, right over his heart. He told you it was so that you’d always be with him, protecting him. You’d sobbed right there on the phone!

“Do you think he’ll still recognise me in my big girl clothes? I’m a lot bigger than since Daddy last saw me,” Jaehwa questions quietly. You smile sadly as you stroke her hair down from its messy state,

“Of course! We’ve been sending him pictures that he kept, and you know he’d be able to spot you in a crowd the size of his concerts. Daddy would never, ever forget you. He loves you too much,” You reassure her, putting down a bowl of cereal in front of her. ‘Brain food’, Namjoon always called it. No better way to start the day for a growing girl like his Jaehwa. You smile as another memory washes over you. God, you cannot wait to see him.

Just as you send Jaehwa off to get into her uniform ready for school, you hear a quick knock at the door. You sigh as you throw a glance at your watch, hoping it doesn’t take long. You’ve got an important meeting with Jaehwa’s teacher to get to after dropping her off for her Active Start Session before her classes,

“Mrs Kim,” A serious-looking man with a grim expression greets you when you open the door. You scan him quickly, seeing his military attire. You raise a cursory eyebrow as you invite him in, very politely mentioning that very important meeting, “Of course, of course. And little Jaehwa, she’s doing well at school, I assume? Sergeant Kim always told us she was going to be exceptional,”

“She is. Her teacher and I are actually going to be discussing new ways to keep her engaged. She finds it so easy in class,” You brag subtly, “Please, do sit, Marshall,” You nod graciously, knowing better than to refer to a military professional as ‘sir’. You remember Namjoon’s punishment when that fact slipped his mind. You try your best to hide your smile as you offer hot beverages that the Marshall waves away, “To what do I owe the pleasant surprise of your visit? I hope Namjoon hasn’t gotten into trouble,” You joke lightly, stifling that jolt of anxiety in your stomach. Military professionals always look grumpy. They’re too serious, that’s what Namjoon always says. His grim look means nothing,

“I’m so sorry to have to do this, Mrs Kim. Sergeant Kim, your husband… he was truly a good man, and an incredibly adept soldier,” The Marshall starts, eyes shifting around your living room uncomfortably. Your mind blanks. What is he trying to say? You’re about to stutter out a question when he continues, “What happened was entirely unexpected. We sent the sergeant out with his group on a routine reconnaissance at the border and…” He trails off again, shifting in his seat, “Something went wrong. I’m deeply sorry to say that there were no survivors. We have managed to recover the bodies, although I know this is no consolation. Mrs Kim, I cannot express enough how deeply we regret this. Sergeant Kim was…” The Marshall continues offering kind words in an attempt at a gentle voice, but you don’t hear it. The words ring in your ears, and your head feels tight and dark. Your chest hurts. Your eyes sting. Your hands shake. Your knees won’t work. What’s happening? What does this mean?

At some point, you let the Marshall out. You don’t remember getting up or seeing him out, but your body is suddenly pressed against the door frame and you slide down, tears falling thick, fast, hot and silent. What? Why? How? He can’t be. This isn’t real. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear Jaehwa calling out for you. You feel her hands on your arms, you see her blurred face peering at you through your tears. She looks scared. She’s crying. She wriggles into your arms, trying to get you to hold her, but you can’t respond. What’s happening? This isn’t real. This isn’t real. This isn’t real. Are you saying that out loud? Jaehwa is crumbling. She’s crying even harder. You can’t see her properly. You tighten your arms around her trembling body, holding her close to you. It doesn’t calm her. She cries harder, face tucked into your neck. She’s begging for you to tell her what happened. Where’s Daddy? What did that man want? What does survivors mean? What does it mean if there aren’t any? She hasn’t learned that word yet.

You miss your meeting that day. Jaehwa misses school. You can’t drive her. You can barely even hold your tears back long enough to try and tell her what’s going on. She doesn’t understand. Neither do you. Namjoon… he’s not. In 48 days, he’s going to come waltzing through that door, isn’t he? For the Welcome Home party? The museum and the books and the everything you had planned? He’ll hang his coat up on the rack and kiss you the way he’d been wanting to for two years. Surely he will. He can’t be gone… can he?

#bts #bts angst #bts namjoon #bts rm #bts scenarios #bts reactions

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she-who-fights-and-writes · 4 years

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She-who-fights-and-writes Coronacation Book Rec List

I know that a lot of people are stuck at home right now in dire need of entertainment, so I decided I’d put out a book recommendations list of all the books I’m currently reading and all of my must-reads!

(Just a note that a lot of these are Fantasy because I’m a fantasy nerd haha)

Books/Series I am currently reading

1. The Folk of the Air Trilogy by Holly Black (Currently on #2, The Wicked King)

Genre: High Fantasy

Setting: The land of Faerie which is kind of historical, but in the human world it is modern day

Main cast :

Jude Duarte (white, human, cutthroat, if I saw her in a Denny’s Parking Lot at 3am I would RUN)

Cardan Greenbriar (white, faerie, the true embodiment of Bastard)

Vivienne (Jude’s half-sister, lesbian with canon gf, half-human half-faerie, I would totally try to be her friend)

Taryn Duarte (Jude’s twin sister, queen doormat, still, I would take a bullet for her she’s jUST TRYING TO FIT IN)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

These books have been on my “To Read” list for so long now and for some reason I just never got around to reading them! Hands-down, these are some of the best high fantasy books that I’ve read in a long, long while.

I finished the first book, The Cruel Prince, in just two days and rated it 5/5 stars! Even though these books are high fantasy and focus on the traditions and ways of life of faeries, somehow all of the characters seem like I could meet them in real life!

The main character actually has genuine flaws and not just “””“flaws”””” and is a Bad Bitch down with murder, and the plot had me on the edge of my seat from page one!

The summary makes it sound like it’s going to be about their romance, but it’s really mostly about a power struggle and Jude being a badass.

Goodreads summary for The Cruel Prince:

Jude was seven when her parents were murdered and she and her two sisters were stolen away to live in the treacherous High Court of Faerie. Ten years later, Jude wants nothing more than to belong there, despite her mortality. But many of the fey despise humans. Especially Prince Cardan, the youngest and wickedest son of the High King. To win a place at the Court, she must defy him–and face the consequences. As Jude becomes more deeply embroiled in palace intrigues and deceptions, she discovers her own capacity for trickery and bloodshed. But as betrayal threatens to drown the Courts of Faerie in violence, Jude will need to risk her life in a dangerous alliance to save her sisters, and Faerie itself.

2. The Raven Cycle Series by Maggie Stiefvater (Currently on #1, The Raven Boys)

Genre: Present-Day/Realistic Fantasy (?)

Setting: The fictional town of Henrietta, Virginia

I haven’t gotten around to much of the book, so there’s not much I can tell you about the characters and I can’t properly give it a rating yet.

These books were also on my “To Read” list for a while; I was a huge fan of her book The Scorpio Races and have also been looking for something to quench my thirst for “private school/ghosts/magic” that I’ve been dealing with ever since I read The Ninth House by Leigh Bardugo.

I’ve only JUST started The Raven Cycle yesterday, but so far I am hooked! I’m super worried because I’m TERRIBLE at juggling two series at a time but both of these are just so interesting!

Goodreads Summary for The Raven Boys:

“There are only two reasons a non-seer would see a spirit on St. Mark’s Eve,” Neeve said. “Either you’re his true love . . . or you killed him.” It is freezing in the churchyard, even before the dead arrive. Every year, Blue Sargent stands next to her clairvoyant mother as the soon-to-be dead walk past. Blue herself never sees them—not until this year, when a boy emerges from the dark and speaks directly to her. His name is Gansey, and Blue soon discovers that he is a rich student at Aglionby, the local private school. Blue has a policy of staying away from Aglionby boys. Known as Raven Boys, they can only mean trouble. But Blue is drawn to Gansey, in a way she can’t entirely explain. He has it all—family money, good looks, devoted friends—but he’s looking for much more than that. He is on a quest that has encompassed three other Raven Boys: Adam, the scholarship student who resents all the privilege around him; Ronan, the fierce soul who ranges from anger to despair; and Noah, the taciturn watcher of the four, who notices many things but says very little. For as long as she can remember, Blue has been warned that she will cause her true love to die. She never thought this would be a problem. But now, as her life becomes caught up in the strange and sinister world of the Raven Boys, she’s not so sure anymore.

MY MUST-READ BOOK LIST

1. The Gentleman’s Guide to Vice and Virtue by Mackenzi Lee

Genre: Historical Fiction

Setting: 1700s Europe (England, Paris, Barcelona, Marseilles, Venice)

Main cast (I’ll try my best not to spoil anything because you find out a LOT of different stuff about these characters throughout the book):

Henry “Monty” Montague (white, bi/pansexual, attitude problem)

Percy Newton (mixed race, gay, very sweet boy, definitely got “most likely to bring home to mom” in the yearbook)

Felicity Montague (white, Monty’s little sister, headcanoned as asexual, I love her to death)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Daring adventure, gay representation, historical setting, hilarious characters!

This book literally has it all! I would consider it one of my favorite books of all time, yet for some reason I’ve never gotten around to reading any of the sequel books! The ending is very satisfying and ties everything together, which I feel is part of the reason why I haven’t gotten around to them yet.

Therefore, it can serve as a one-shot read or a full series if you want to dive into something good!

The humor made me laugh out loud at points and all of the characters are very real and very, very relatable, not to mention the vivid settings of 1700s Europe!

Goodreads summary:

Henry “Monty” Montague was born and bred to be a gentleman, but he was never one to be tamed. The finest boarding schools in England and the constant disapproval of his father haven’t been able to curb any of his roguish passions—not for gambling halls, late nights spent with a bottle of spirits, or waking up in the arms of women or men. But as Monty embarks on his Grand Tour of Europe, his quest for a life filled with pleasure and vice is in danger of coming to an end. Not only does his father expect him to take over the family’s estate upon his return, but Monty is also nursing an impossible crush on his best friend and traveling companion, Percy. Still it isn’t in Monty’s nature to give up. Even with his younger sister, Felicity, in tow, he vows to make this yearlong escapade one last hedonistic hurrah and flirt with Percy from Paris to Rome. But when one of Monty’s reckless decisions turns their trip abroad into a harrowing manhunt that spans across Europe, it calls into question everything he knows, including his relationship with the boy he adores.

2. The Ninth House By Leigh Bardugo

Genre: Horror, Fantasy

Setting: Yale University and the town of New Haven, Present Day

Main cast:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern (Hispanic, sees dead people, very scary)

Daniel Arlington “Darlington” (white, rich, an angel who can sometimes be a dick)

Pamela Dawes (tbh I honestly don’t remember what she looks like, only that she’s a tired grad student with big nerd energy)

Detective Alan Turner (Black, takes shit from nobody, husband material)

Rating: 4/5 Stars

(NOTE: THIS IS VERY DARK ADULT FICTION AND CONTAINS MATERIAL THAT MAY BE TRIGGERING FOR SOME PEOPLE, WOULD NOT RECOMMEND FOR PEOPLE UNDER 16)

This book is a great read for someone who’s looking for a disturbing, gritty book with layers upon layers of secrets that you have to peel away as the mystery unfolds. I love the secret societies and the intricate magic systems that the book introduces, and it actually made me hungry for more books like it!

Alex is a three-dimensional, very real character who also serves as an unreliable narrator who witholds or warps the information that she’s telling you, making the narrative all the more riveting.

The only issues that I have with it are the fact that Leigh Bardugo kind of just dumps you in the middle of it without explaining stuff first, to the point where it kind of feels like you’re reading the second installment of a series rather than the first one, so things can get a bit confusing at first.

The book also can drag and draw things out for a bit too long, but once the plot fully kicks into gear, you will not be able to put it down!

Goodreads summary:

Galaxy “Alex” Stern is the most unlikely member of Yale’s freshman class. Raised in the Los Angeles hinterlands by a hippie mom, Alex dropped out of school early and into a world of shady drug dealer boyfriends, dead-end jobs, and much, much worse. By age twenty, in fact, she is the sole survivor of a horrific, unsolved multiple homicide. Some might say she’s thrown her life away. But at her hospital bed, Alex is offered a second chance: to attend one of the world’s most elite universities on a full ride. What’s the catch, and why her? Still searching for answers to this herself, Alex arrives in New Haven tasked by her mysterious benefactors with monitoring the activities of Yale’s secret societies. These eight windowless “tombs” are well-known to be haunts of the future rich and powerful, from high-ranking politicos to Wall Street and Hollywood’s biggest players. But their occult activities are revealed to be more sinister and more extraordinary than any paranoid imagination might conceive.

3. The Lunar Chronicles by Marissa Meyer

Genre: Sci-Fi/Fantasy

Setting: Earth, Space, The Moon

Main cast :

Linh Cinder (Chinese, based on Cinderella, cyborg, certified badass)

Scarlet Benoit (French, based on Little Red Riding Hood, farmer who is not afraid to shoot you)

Cress Darnel (White, based on Rapunzel, nerd, I will protect her with my life if I have to)

Kaito “Kai” (Chinese, based on Prince Charming, kind of has to run a whole country, a very kind soul, deserves a nap)

Carswell Thorne (White, based off of Rapunzel’s Prince, bastard)

Winter Hayle (Black, based off of Snow White, royalty, has super special powers)

Wolf (Race unspecified, based off of the Big Bad Wolf, charming killing machine, furry????)

Rating: 5/5 Stars

Do you like fairy tales?

Have you ever wanted to know what fairy tales would be like if they took place in the FUTURE instead of the PAST?

Do you like an amazing, hilarious cast paired with a super interesting plot?

These are the books for you!

I haven’t read them in so long, but I remember how much joy I felt while devouring these pages. Definitely something you will not able to put down!

Goodreads Summary for Book #1: Cinder:

Humans and androids crowd the raucous streets of New Beijing. A deadly plague ravages the population. From space, a ruthless lunar people watch, waiting to make their move. No one knows that Earth's fate hinges on one girl. . . . Cinder, a gifted mechanic, is a cyborg. She's a second-class citizen with a mysterious past, reviled by her stepmother and blamed for her stepsister's illness. But when her life becomes intertwined with the handsome Prince Kai's, she suddenly finds herself at the center of an intergalactic struggle, and a forbidden attraction. Caught between duty and freedom, loyalty and betrayal, she must uncover secrets about her past in order to protect her world's future.

4. The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Genre: Fantasy

Setting: Ancient Greece

Main cast:

Patroclus (Greek, Gay, quiet pining)

Achilles (Greek, gay, very strong, student athlete energy)

Brisies (Anatolian, clever, literally the only one in this story who has a brain cell)

Rating: 100000/5 stars

This is basically the Iliad but if historians hadn’t completely erased Patroclus and Achilles’ relationship. “Haha yeah these guys were totally bros” they say, even though I have read the Iliad and their relationship isn’t even subtle.

This book made me cry at least ten times. It’s just so beautifully written and has such a distinct vibe to it that whenever I crack it open for another time, it takes me straight back to the vacation that I read it on. (Needless to say, sobbing your eyes out can be less than helpful when you’re on the beach)

If you can only read one book on this list, it should be this one. I could talk all day about it and write novels on just how much of an incredible writer Madeline Miller is, but I feel like you’d get my drift a bit better if you actually read the book.

Goodreads Summary:

Greece in the age of heroes. Patroclus, an awkward young prince, has been exiled to the court of King Peleus and his perfect son Achilles. By all rights their paths should never cross, but Achilles takes the shamed prince as his friend, and as they grow into young men skilled in the arts of war and medicine their bond blossoms into something deeper - despite the displeasure of Achilles' mother Thetis, a cruel sea goddess. But then word comes that Helen of Sparta has been kidnapped. Torn between love and fear for his friend, Patroclus journeys with Achilles to Troy, little knowing that the years that follow will test everything they hold dear. Profoundly moving and breathtakingly original, this rendering of the epic Trojan War is a dazzling feat of the imagination, a devastating love story, and an almighty battle between gods and kings, peace and glory, immortal fame and the human heart.

Hope this list helps you through your coronacation, and please don’t be afraid to reblog or message me to tell me if you’ve read/will read any of these!

#books #book recs #book rec #book reccomendation #book reccomendations #coronacation #corona #coronavirus #covid-19 #book rec list

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oskea93 · 4 years

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Two Ghost (2)

“You look absolutely stunning.”

I couldn’t help but blush, reaching my hand across the table, intertwining mine and Ryan’s fingers. “You look handsome as well.”

He gave me a smile, bringing my hand up to his lips, “I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I can’t wait to marry you either, Ryan.”

4 months.

Ryan and I were to be married in four months. Every little detail was being taken care of courtesy of the wedding planner I had hired. I wanted this wedding to be special, nice. Seeing as this was my first “official” wedding, I wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted the perfect venue, an amazing reception area, the delicious cake, and my handsome groom waiting for me at the altar. I didn’t have to worry about rival gang members interrupting the ceremony or my groom getting ushered away due to “club shit.”

“Are the girls staying the night with Gemma?”

I took a sip of my water, shaking my head. “No-”I started. “She’s supposed to be dropping them off when dinner is over. Charlotte has a doctor’s appointment tomorrow.”

“Maybe this weekend we can have some alone time.” He spoke, wiggling his eyes brows in a suggestive manner.

I couldn’t help but laugh, “We’ll just have to see about that.”

Silence overtook us once our meals appeared. We made small talk, telling each other how good the food was, finally settling on the check. I watched as Ryan removed his platinum credit card, giving the waitress a smile as she walked off with the payment.

“You sure you don’t want to let Gemma take the girls for the night?” He smiled, reaching for my hand.

I entwined our fingers once again, pulling at his hand, “You know I can’t, baby.”

I had told Ryan from the very start of our relationship that my kids were number one. I wasn’t the type of mother to push them off on other people just because a new man came into my life. Ryan would press every now and then, seeing if I would finally buckle. Unfortunately for him, I wasn’t going to buckle to no one when it came to Charlotte and Sophia...

The car ride home was silent, but a comfortable silent. I watched as the big city lights grew dimmer the closer we got to Charming. The small town coming into focus in the windshield giving me a sense of calm. Even though Ryan was a Hale, he wanted as far away from Charming as possible. He didn’t want to stick around like his two older brothers. He had seen what Charming had become in the past decade and the people that had overtaken the streets. The Hales and SOA were bitter enemies, Jax and Ryan included. The two men had grown up around each other, often getting into fights growing up. From what I heard from Ryan, as soon as he turned 18, he packed up his stuff and left Charming. He didn’t come back to the town until his brother’s untimely death, which he of course blamed on the club.

“You want me to walk you in?” I turned my attention to Ryan as he placed the car in park in front of my house. “You know, make sure there’s no boogeyman or anything.”

I leaned over the center consult, pulling his chin in my hands, placing my lips softly on his. The kiss was slow, sweet. Kissing Ryan was like kissing a soft, fluffy cloud. His lips were tender and plush. Sure, there was the occasional nipping or eagerness, but kissing Ryan felt safe.

“Goodnight, babe.” I pulled away with a smile.

I gathered my things, removing myself from the luxury vehicle. “I’ll call you when I get home.” Ryan smiled. I simply nodded my head, closing the door behind me as I started making my way towards the front door.

As I entered the house, I placed my things down on the entryway table, kicking my heels off to the side. I looked down at my watch seeing that I had at least 30 more minutes before the girls would be home. This was my chance to get a quick shower and get things ready for bedtime. I made my way up the stairs, bypassing my bedroom and went right for the shower. I stripped out of my dress, folding it, and laying it on the counter. I washed up real fast, skipping my hair since it would take too long.

Once I was dressed in my pajamas, I made my way to each of the girls’ rooms, picking out their pjs and getting their beds ready for bed. Hopefully, they would be out when Gemma drops them off but they could also be wired for sound. I would have to be the bad guy and put them to bed after Gemma allowed them to do whatever the hell they wanted at her house.

I ventured down the stairs as headlights flooded through the windows. I slipped on a pair of flip flops and walked out to help get the girls in. Instead of being met with dark curls with streaks of blonde, the blonde, slicked hair of Jackson Teller shown dully in the light of the street lamp. Jax and I stayed silent as he passed me Sophia. I watched from behind as he unbuckled a sleeping Charlotte, carefully removing her from the car. We made our way into the house, carefully taking both sleeping kids up to their bedroom. I almost wanted to forgo putting them in their pajamas since they were sleeping so well. I didn’t want to wake them up, especially Sophia, who became a little gremlin if woken up before time. Thankfully, Jax was able to get both girls into their pajamas and tucked into bed before I could lift a finger.

I made my way down the stairs and into the kitchen, filling the tea kettle, placing it on the stove. I had my back turned, reaching for my cup when a familiar set of hands latched onto my side. “How’s the fiancé?”

I stayed silent for a moment as his lips softly moved from my shoulder up to my neck. He followed the tattoo pattern that was inked in my skin, setting fire to the artwork.

“Fine.” I breathed out.

“Just fine.” He continued to tease. I moaned out loud as his hand crept under my shirt, running his callused hands up and down my side.

The sound of the tea kettle began to whistle, snapping me out of my lustful thoughts. I quickly pushed away from the counter that Jax had me trapped against and removed the pot from the heat. With shaky hands, I poured the boiling water into the cup, dousing the tea bag in the liquid.

“We gonna talk about what happened the other night?”

I stayed still, watching as the steam rolled off the cup.

The other night.

What happened between Jax and I the other night was one of the reasons why I dreaded seeing him. I was in a vulnerable state that night. I had too many glasses of wine and Gemma was watching the kids for the night. I didn’t expect anyone to come over, especially not Jax. I had just gotten out of the bathtub, only wearing a robe when I answered the door. From what I remembered, Charlotte had left Bullwinkle, her stuffed moose and was now refusing to go to bed without it. Jax showed up, looking like he always does, and next thing I know my robe is off and Jax and I are going at each other like wild animals. I don’t know whether it was the fact that I hadn’t had sex in months or the fact that I was drunk and Jax and I were alone. I woke up the next morning feeling like shit and Jax sleeping next to me.

“I was drunk and that’s it.” I turned around. “It was a mistake and it won’t happen again, okay.”

Jax looked at me for a moment, a Cheshire grin spreading across his face. “Caroline, you weren’t that drunk.”

I looked down at my painted toes, heat spreading across my face. “I had a couple glasses of wine before you even showed. It was a spur of the moment kind of thing and that’s it.”

Jax let out a laugh, his fingers pulling at his unkempt beard. “You make it sound like it was a random hookup, like you and I don’t even know each other.”

I rolled my eyes, taking a sip of my drink. Ever since I met Jax, he has driven me absolutely crazy. I fell in love with him the very first moment I met him, even having sex with him within an hour of knowing him. I was young, naïve, and looking for a way out. I knew I didn’t belong at that bar, I wasn’t like the girls that worked there. I knew that I needed better in my life and being a “hang-around” was not going to be my destiny. I had heard about the infamous Sons of Anarchy, especially Jackson Teller from the other girls. Most of them knew them on a personal level and had certain favorites. Before I even met him, the girls told me to stay away from Jax. He was a whore and was only looking for someone to keep his dick warm for the night. Well, being the naïve 18-year-old I was at the time, I was willing to be that person. From the moment I saw him walk into the bar, I was smitten. I didn’t even care if I never saw this guy ever again, I just wanted to be alone with him for however long.

Fast forward to present day and two children later, I can see why the women at Jury’s gave me such a warning when it came to Jax. They were familiar with men like him, handsome, dangerous, and unfaithful. I didn’t see that until it was too late. I was blinded by the handsome husband and being bought with money, jewelry, and trips to new and exciting places. Not to mention, a gorgeous building to start my clothing store. I didn’t want to believe that my wonderful husband was fucking anything with blonde hair and long legs. I wanted to believe that he was just busy with the club or that stupid porn studio he invested in. When it became evident that Jax and I’s relationship wasn’t going to work anymore, I felt like a total failure. Old ladies don’t leave. Old ladies stick it out and try harder to please their men. Well, I was done trying.

I was able to get away from Jax and keep it that way for almost two years. I met Ryan and we instantly hit it off. He was the ying to my yang. He was the type of guy that never interested me but I was grown and looking for an adult relationship. A few weeks after Ryan purposed, Jax and I started fooling around. It all started when the club went into lockdown and everyone had to go to the Red Woody warehouse. It was late and the sexual tension was building up. It happened in a blink of an eye and I told myself it wouldn’t happen again. I was engaged to be married. I knew what it felt like to be cheated on and here I was fucking my ex in the bathroom of a porn studio. I did everything in my power to stay away from Jax and it seemed like it was working. I guess you could say it was working until last week when we had sex everywhere but the bedroom…

“It’s getting late, Jax.” I spoke.

I didn’t realize how close he had gotten, being close enough that we were almost toe to toe. I looked up at him, his green eyes staring right into mine.

“I can be out of here before the girls get up.” He whispered, his hands finding mine.

If Charlie and Sophia found their dad and I in bed together, that would be one long therapy session that I didn’t have time for. They knew us apart and with other people in my case. Charlotte, especially, would get her hopes up and think that Jax and I were back together. “And what happens if they wake up in the middle of the night from a nightmare or something? What if it starts storming, Jax? You know Sophia hates thunderstorms.” I was trying to come up with every pathetic excuse in the book to get him to leave.

My heart started beating fast as he brought our hands up, pinning them to the wall behind me. I was trapped against the wall, Jax’s body flush against mine. “We’ll cross that bridge if we get to it, darlin.”

#Jax Teller #Jackson Teller #jax teller fanfiction #jax teller imagine #jax x oc #sons of anarchy #sons of anarchy fanfiction #sons of anarchy imagine #Charlie Hunnam #charlie hunnam fanfiction #charlie hunnam imagine #SOA

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kaichan24 · 4 years

Text

Happy Birthday fics.

Yuri's birthday

1. An Abundance Of Everything That Starts With "L". Soon, way quicker than anyone will think because building something takes so much more time than destroying it and seeing in collapse into dust, there will be more cracking joints and hurting knees, and his pale bend body will be so battered from all the excessive amount of training training training and also living that it will be useless for the thing he loves. For the man he loves.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12904713

2. the one i want to hold on to. For the first time in five years, Katsuki Yuuri celebrates his birthday surrounded by the language, the home, and the man he loves.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14170884

3. from the perfect start (to the finish line). Three of Yuuri's birthdays with Vicchan by his side.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21621427

4. Happy Birthday, Yuuri. Yuuri never voluntarily tells anyone about his birthday, including Victor.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12866946

5. Yuuris Birthday Surprises. It's Yuuris birthday and even though Yuuri doesn't want to do anything Victor can't help but surprise him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12872631

6. Buried in your Love. While snowed in at a Russian airport, Victor gives Yuuri a special birthday surprise.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16804897

7. 24 Hours with You. A day of celebration leaves Yuuri caught up in elation, but Viktor still has one last gift to give him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699269

8. Icy Sunshine. It was irrefutable that Yuuri was the loveliest child in the whole world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12806043

9. Captured Memories - Katsuki Yuri's Birthday. It's Katsuki Yuri's birthday. Viktor wakes him up at midnight just to celebrate, and it's not just a cake he has with him.

He also has captured memories, displayed beautifully in little plastic things, bringing forth feelings and emotions and tears from within the soul in Yuri.

In the end, spending time with Viktor is still the best thing in the whole world.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8683096

10. look at where we are [look at where we started]. "So," the older man whispered, dragging a soft petal over Yuuri's throat and kissing the shell of his ear. "Do you feel pampered and adored?

"Yuuri blushed and turned his face toward Victor's, closing his eyes and sinking into the wonderful feeling of soft kisses raining all over his face. "You mean more than usual?"

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12861195

11. Pleasant Surprise. Yuuri shifted under the covers of his bed, pulling the blankets closer to try and fight off the morning air.

It was early, too early to be awake but his husband of a year hadn’t gotten the memo because the spot beside him lay empty and void of any warmth.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11206473

Victor's birthday.

1. About Christmas and Abstract Feelings. December 25th has been more than just Christmas for a while now (eleven years, more specifically).

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9638249

2. And in my dreams, i'm Christmasing with you. The presents appear to be arranged into four sections. Some of them are big, worryingly big, and Yuuri wonders if he’s going to have to mail them home instead of packing them away in his luggage. Each little section is labeled with a little card that hints at its contents.

Something you want…

Something you need…

Something to wear…

Something to read…

It’s sickeningly cute, and exactly the kind of thing Viktor likes, and Yuuri feels guilty just looking at the pristine packaging.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17117225

3. Merry Happy Christmas to You. Yuuri finishes with his National Championship while Viktor is halfway through his own; only Viktor has arranged a Christmas surprise, and Yuuri finds a way to wish him the happy birthday he's always wished he could say.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13097460

4. Fried Chicken and Mistletoe. Victor’s 30th birthday and Japanese Christmas traditions converge when he and Yuuri go back to Hasetsu for the holidays.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17115386

5. Christmas is for Lovers... And Fried Chicken. Victor's birthday is on Christmas, and even though Russians don't celebrate the holiday, Yuri still wants to do something special for his fiancee for both his birthday and Christmas.After all, in Japan, Christmas is for lovers.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8998321

6. A Holiday in Christmas. Viktor was used to spend his birthdays alone and not celebrating them, so he was prepared to spend a quiet day at home, hoping no one were planning a surprise birthday party for him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17143706

7. something lovely and new. Necessity is the mother of innovation when one wants to celebrate a romantic holiday/birthday with their fiancé despite being thousands of kilometers apart for business.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21964804

8. Christmas is a Time for Lovers (and Viktor). The first time they get to spend Viktor's birthday together, Viktor is more entranced by the shining lights of Christmas in Japan, than by the idea of actually celebrating his birthday.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17154101

9. Christmases Past and Present. Victor never understood what was so important about birthdays or the holiday season until he got to spend them with Yuuri and his family in Hatsetsu.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21974740

10. and it's a long way forward, so trust in me. Victor and Yuuri get caught up in a snowstorm trying to cross the mountains at the start of their winter holiday, spending a night and early morning in a motel room in the middle of nowhere. That's it. That's the premise. Sex, perhaps unsurprisingly, ensues.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12058506

11. my end and my beginning. Yuuri has the perfect birthday-slash-Christmas present for Viktor. Something unexpected.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9058708

12. Christmas Concussion. Yuuri tries to surprise Victor with a very special present. Things don’t go as planned and he ends up with a concussion. Victor looks after him.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13143885

13. A Very (Un)Merry Christmas. It is official Victor's birthday, and because of stupid Nationals and stupid other Nationals, he isn't with his Yuuri. Having his birthday be on Christmas was bad enough, but having to miss both his birthday and Christmas with his beloved was just cruel.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17159906

14. zolotse. “Victor Nikiforov, you are so many things to me, but above all… above all that you have become my love. That’s why tonight I want to give you all that you’ve given me and more. Tonight, I want to worship you.”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/9035567

15. make a wish. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15032333

#Yuri on ice #YOI #yoi fanfic #yoi fic #yuuri katsuki #yuri katsuki #Viktor Nikiforov #victor nikiforov #yuuri x victor #viktor x yuuri #victuri #viktuuri #victuuri #hiroko katsuki #toshiya katsuki #mari katsuki #minako okukawa #yuko nishigori #Takeshi Nishigori

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auggie-hunter · 3 years

Text

the insomnia diaries;

❛ surprise. send an unexpected nsfw image to my muse.

truthfully, auggie should've known this could’ve happened one day. not that he’d ever expect it from her, or even ask, but he should’ve known teddy graham would find new and exciting ways to make him fall out of his chair.

(literally; he’s in the middle of a stream when it happens. he’d seen the notification go off while waiting for his game to load and had the capital idea to fully lean over to check instead of just reaching for his phone with his arm.

he’s could not be more relieved that he falls to the ground because he isn’t sure he could’ve kept a poker face on camera. or that he’d make it to his 23rd birthday with the way his heart is racing)

and while his viewers are likely laughing up a storm at his faux pas, turning his chat to chaos, he manages enough mental capacity to mute his mic, eyes still glued to his phone.

because his girlfriend, bare from the chest up with an arm tucked behind her head and a knowing, bright red smirk on her lips, stares back at him on his phone.

vlauggie: sorry dudes, technical difficulties, we’re back tomorrow, 7pm. ps: you’re all banned for laughing at me :)

…even if technical difficulties were, quite literally, him dramatically unplugging the computer and running to his bedroom where she laughed loudly when he all but jumped her bones.

worth it. totally.

__________________

❛ abrupt. kiss my muse out of the blue.

she’s in the middle of a phone call with her sisters, giggling from her place on the barstool at the kitchen island. about whatever it is they’re discussing. he isn’t sure; he genuinely hasn’t been listening. what he is sure about is how happy she looks to hear their voices and be laughing with them.

he hasn’t seen her smile in so long, he thinks, and his heart squeezes when he realizes just how long it’s actually been. eight months since they lost lip.

her eyes look so bright, and she looks so much like herself. like his teddy. like the heaviness of her heartbreak isn’t weighing her down.

like she might fly again.

he’s missed this for her.

she’s mid sentence when he cups both her cheeks and presses his lips to hers, soft and tender and warm. it catches her off guard; he can tell by the way she stares back at him, lips slightly parted, confusion on her brow. but instead of answering her or explaining, he drops a long, lingering kiss atop her head, thumbs swiping softly over her cheeks.

she mutters something about calling them back and her arms are sliding around his waist a second later, drawing him into her arms.

__________________

❛ go down. go down on my muse.

he almost hates that she’s here like this. almost. that she could come back after all this time, after he finally figured out how to make himself stop missing her long enough to move on.

he almost hates that he’s so addicted to her that he’s willing to burn it all down for her.

almost. but auggie hunter could be selfish like that. teddy graham would always make him selfish when it came to her.

they were just supposed to talk. she just wanted to talk, or so she said. the way she’d fallen into his lap in the middle of it all told a different story.

the way he falls right into her makes him angry, because he knows she knew he would, and that he always would. she knows her choosing not to talk and just go straight into the familiar is her way of having her cake and eating it, too.

but two can play at that game. and he can’t say he’s doing much thinking when he lifts her onto the desk in front of him though. or when he’s pulling lace that he wants to pretend wasn’t strategic down her thighs and letting his mouth following the same trail back up them.

the ring on his left hand burns with the weight of what he’s doing, and the pressure of soft, firm skin underneath it. he desperately wonders in the back of his mind if there will ever be a day in his life where he isn’t weak for the woman in front of him.

(he also wonders how in the world they got here)

__________________

❛ note. give my muse a note saying : [ content ].

he’s surprisingly nervous today. ironic, considering he’s technically already done this. but til the day he died, auggie hunter was certain teddy graham would, without much effort on her part, make his heart race.

they weren’t even going to have a wedding. they’d talked about it, sure, once they’d gotten back from paris, matching rings on their fingers. they’d said they could do it one more time for their parents’ sake.

except the world had been put on pause, she’d turned out to be pregnant, and they’d had more pressing matters to attend to in the form of two babies and more love and life than they knew what to do with.

but that was then. this was now. their daughters are eight months old, the world’s eased back in, and their families are waiting patiently in the terrace of the house in maine he and teddy had called home for the better part of the last eighteen months.

they’re getting married. again.

and he’s nervous.

the thing is, if he could see her, then maybe he wouldn’t feel so antsy about it. call it separation anxiety after all the time they’d spent together coupled with way too much excitement.

and he’d see her soon; one glance at his watch tells him they’re only twenty minutes out from when he’d be waiting for her at the top of the beautifully decorated aisle in the garden.

(the watch is a present from freddie when he’d come in to help with his tie, their father’s initials engraved in the back. “he’s here, too…” his brother had said, and they’d both held back tears)

but somehow, twenty minutes feels like an eternity.

he closes his eyes and takes a long deep breath, trying to get it together, before reaching for his suit jacket. he’s getting married. (again).

while running both hands over the front to smooth out the neatly pressed material that makes him look older somehow, wise beyond his years, a crinkling grabs his attention. he furrows his brow, wondering if the dry cleaners had forgotten some kind of tag in the pocket. he’s careful with the boutonniere, trying to make sure he didn’t ruin teddy’s favorite flower resting delicately over the pocket.

an envelope.

he furrows his brow as he pulls it out. that for sure hadn’t been in there before. or at least… he thought he’d have noticed when he pulled it out of the garment bag. the paper crinkles in his hand when he turns it to read it, and then, he smiles.

auggie.

written in a familiar cursive he’s seen a dozen times on post-its, in journals, in love letters. teddy.

he’s careful not to rip it when he opens it, chuckling to himself when he spots the blue paw print sticker on the back. an ode to their ongoing blue’s clues binge when rosie decides she’s over sleeping promptly at 4:07 in the morning.

loving you is my favorite part of waking up every morning. and knowing i’ll get to love you the next day is my favorite part about going to sleep. thank you for taking my hand, and wrecking all of my plans. i wouldn’t have it any other way.

can’t wait to marry you (again!!!)

- ted

yeah. he’s ready now. and would be forever.

__________________

❛ mark. leave a mark on my muse’s body [ specify where ].

working out your history probably wouldn’t end with a purple bruise on your hip bone.

(or it could; it would maybe just lead to a more fun memory than the painful one you’re currently dwelling on)

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t have shown up late at night, dressed (or undressed) in the way you were, to jump into the arms of a married man.

(or you would’ve, except you’d have been his wife, and he’d have been your husband and you would’ve giggled in each other’s arms in the aftermath)

but the purple bruise on your hip bone is angry, a symbol of wanting and taking what doesn’t belong to you, of him having his cake and eating it, too, (literally) even if you’re the one who let him in the first place.

you’re the one who showed up to his restaurant late at night; you’re the one who insisted you talk; you’re the one who found your way onto his lap.

(even if he’s the one whose deep frustration led him to push you onto the desk in his office and find home between your legs, hands gripping your thighs like a lifeline. the red scratches on the side of your right thigh should fade soon; at least the reminder of the band on his finger not having the strength to last as long as the tender skin low on your hip bone.

the secret, wordless brand on your skin is a longer reminder of how much he resents you for leaving him.

or maybe he resents you more for coming back.

then again, he’s the married one, you think selfishly. although, there’s a ring on your finger that makes you a hypocrite since you’d be there soon, too.

had you sorted your shit out, you wouldn’t be staring at a reminder on your bare skin through the mirror. you’d be with him. where you belong.

and he’d be with you, where he belongs.

(but maybe the bullshit ends with you. maybe you’re the one who sorts it by slipping the ring off your finger.)

(and you refuse to be anyone’s secret. and you refuse to have him of all people be yours)

(you just desperately hope he feels the same)

__________________

❛ pin. push my muse against a [ wall, table, other ].

teddy wasn’t even going to have a bachelorette party. she was just planning on grabbing auggie and eloping at the courthouse, wanting nothing more than to just be married to him. but she should’ve known her sisters wouldn’t be able to help herself. even her little siblings bixby and belly, freshly twenty-one, wanted in on the planning.

it’s how she finds herself leading a singalong of four of her siblings, her future siblings in law, her best friends, and fellow patrons while belting “africa” by toto at a karaoke bar, drunk on too many sugary lime mojitos.

there’s a tilted crown on her head that looks too perfectly placed for how tacky it’s actually meant to be, and she’s clumsier than usual, so while the room goes wild, daily has to come to her rescue and help her off the stage when it’s over.

she’s one step down when she spots him, all the way at the back by the bar. her jaw drops and she gasps like she hasn’t seen him in ages though it’s only been a few hours.

her fiancé, her auggie, watching her with his smile like sunshine and cinnamon bun wrinkled forehead. (good lord, she’s drunk) she loves him so much.

(she’s really gonna be his wife. she could cry.)

daily’s calling after her when she clumsily runs away from her and toward his direction, narrowly missing a waitress on her way over. but teddy ignores her, a woman on a mission.

her lips are on his before she even says hi, arms wrapping around his neck and crossing at her forearms. she nudges him back, pinning him up against the corner of the bar, and when he chuckles against her mouth and pulls back to look at her, she grins just as wide.

“sorry to interrupt your big night, i just wanted to—“

she shakes her head and kisses him again. “never, i missed you sooooo much.” this time her smooch is loud, and he laughs wrapping an arm around her waist when he feels her kiss more of the space above this lips than his actual lips.

somewhere behind her, she can hear olive mutter something about it being a bachelorette party, but she doesn’t entirely care. auggie’s here!

“baby,” he mumbles against her mouth, pulling back. “go back to your party. i just wanted to bring you this,” he pulls out her engagement ring from inside his pocket. “i thought you might’ve forgotten it. though i think i should hold on to it for now.”

she pouts, ready to protest, but he grabs her left arm from where it rests at his shoulder, a huge, pink toy diamond ring on her finger. “just until you come home; you’re already covered.” he kisses her cheek three times.

“el—“ she hiccups. “it was eliza’s idea. she said she saw it on one tree hill and was scared i’d lose mine.”

he snorts. “thanks, one tree hill.”

“go ravens.” she giggles and stands on her toes to kiss him. “wanna make out?”

“i think you’ve got that part covered,” he says against her lips, still so very amused at her.

“okay but over there so i can take your pants off,” she slurs, closing the inch of space between them so he’s pinned against the bar counter.

“how about you go have fun, and i’ll wait for you later with no pants.” though he knows a puddle of drunk teddy would end her night in sleep, but he humors her.

she gasps. “can we go now?” and he has to catch her hand before she unbuttons his pants.

“no, olive and allie are already glaring at me for being here,” he tells her and kisses her forehead. “go; i’ll see you at home, okay?”

“…fine. i love you. a lot, a lot. like, to pluto a lot.”

there’s that smile again, big and bright and she all but melts into her boots: “i love you, too.”

as she’s walking away, she turns back to look at him. “i won’t even tell anybody about your whole fake pretest. pretet… pre…” she huffs, tongue tied again:

he laughs. “you caught me.” and with a final wink, she’s finally back with her party, and he’s walking out the door, both hands in his pockets, and his soft grin intact.

__________________

❛ choke. intimately wrap your hands around my muse’s throat.

okay, so it isn’t shocking per se; all the time they spent surviving on stolen moments and making the most of them for so long (before deciding to just say screw it, secrets be damned) had turned into lessons and discoveries.

lessons and discoveries that led them both to understand they were all kinds of kinky.

like how auggie was easily putty in teddy’s hands at the sight of her in any kind of lace. or satin. or leather, and how much she loved how easy it was for her get him to bend at her whim. or teddy being really into being tied up (and tying him up). her affinity for being blindfolded (and blindfolding him)

“i like surprises.” she’d said it at her birthday dinner; herhad eyes met his across the dinner table, knowing he’d know what she meant despite being surrounded by all their friends, none of them any wiser.

there’s auggie’s obsession with going down on her, and the way her legs had a little too much power over him. he was convinced this was why she’d started wearing shorter dresses in his presence. though she’d never admit it.

(it’s how he put two and two together about how having him look, but not touch was a turn on for her, and how she’d put it into practice by having him sit at the edge of her bed while she showed him all the ways she touched herself without him)

marks that scream mine, a slight tug of hair (or two), a hand up her skirt hidden in plain sight was a bit of a power trip, only to be met with bare, wet skin. because two could play at that game.

teddy on her knees. auggie from behind. chasing orgasms in new and exciting ways…

the list went on and on.

so again, finding this out isn’t shocking. a little surprising, considering they thought they’d fully populated the mental list by now. but when she’s pressed into the mattress, and he stops moving in her for a second to help ease her head out of the uncomfortable position it had ended up in, another discovery is made.

she’d winced, and when she’d complained about her head, he’d cupped the back of her neck, and gripped gently to help her get more comfortable. except his thumb puts a little more pressure than intended against her throat in the effort to help her move, and the way her eyes flutter while lips part and she clenches tighter around him gives him pause.

teddy appears a little surprised herself, especially with how her eyes widen when he lets go and she realizes what had just happened. he’s a little blown away, but clearly not as much as she is. but then his brow raises, a silent “really?” appearing on his face with an upward quirk of his lip.

of course, before she can even put together an explanation, her cheeks rouge a deeper shade of red than just a moment earlier to match her averted eyes and bashful expression.

he bows his head to kiss her. a reminder that there’s no need to be embarrassed. not about this, and especially not with him.

(even if the way she usually blushed while turned on, all the way from her face down to her chest, easily made his head spin. the way he could tell the difference was pretty hot, too)

but then auggie slows it down, more deliberate and sensual, and yet a little dirty, his hand eases back onto her neck, fingers and thumb applying careful pressure. he pulls back to look at her. he needs to follow her lead on this one; he won’t do it otherwise. there’s a word for this, too.

teddy’s eyes meet his, a slow nod of consent and trust allow him to keep going. and when those same eyes flutter again, and her lips part, he knows he’s found it. her sweet spot. and then he moves inside her again, picking back up where they left off.

she comes faster than either of them anticipate after that.

lesson #350.

__________________

missed connections… what if we just missed who we were in a past life?

“wait, so you really just told indy you wouldn’t come to her wedding if she didn’t invite me?” teddy laughed, smoothing out the skirt of her dress, soft pink and ending just at her mid-thigh. indigo graff wanted a wedding of whimsy, which meant seventies florals and springtime energy. “you’re her maid of honor! it’s a small wedding.”

olive shrugged, the blonde highlights in her recently cut hair appearing extra glossy while styled in soft beach waves. “she knows i hate our cousins, i absolutely wasn’t getting through this without someone normal. and eliza couldn’t fly back from bali, and you know drew is still stuck in davenport because he’s the worst--”

“he’s not; you love him, and there’s a random springtime blizzard.”

“teddy stop being rational please, i’m being bitter, let me be bitter.” olive straightened out her own dress, the navy color as close to black as indigo would let her go for the day. she wasn’t hating it, or the way it contrasted with her red lipstick. “who plans an entire wedding in two weeks?!”

“okay,” teddy watches her trying to find the fine line between rational and letting olive be olive, but she’s still quite amused about this. “but scarlett is here. and forest is here.”

“forest is taking his photog job way too seriously so after we’re done being bridesmaids he’s gonna go off in search of the perfect wedding candids,” olive rolls her eyes while wrestling with the spandex shorts she’s wearing underneath to get them straight. “and i adore my sister, but scarlett decided she wanted to bring patrick to the wedding, and she adores patrick and will inevitably dump me for him once she’s done bridesmaid-ing. clearly my siblings don’t care about me and my needs..”

“on this day of all days? what a betrayal,” teddy snorts deadpan. “and you told me to bring ivy!” she walks around to help olive finish freshening up.

“i did, i know. but i like ivy. i don’t like patrick.”

“you don’t like anyone.”

“i know that, too,” olive says simply exhaling heavily before taking a look in the mirror. “okay, this is gonna have to do.”

teddy smiles at her through the mirror. “you look beautiful,” she tells her, wrapping both arms around olive’s shoulders and squeezing her tight. “come on, grumpy.”

as they make their way out of the bathroom, her best friend’s sigh makes teddy turn around. “i just can’t believe my big sister’s getting married.” olive’s lip quirks, pride swelling in her chest.

teddy grins. “you’re so cute. let’s get you over to her before all this real emotion goes away,” she teases, leading her out the door, but not before she bumps chest first into someone’s back just beside the door.

“oh!” teddy exclaims, grabbing onto a set or arms to find her balance.

“shit, sorry!”

olive glares, stopping short just before she could bump into teddy. “who stands in front of a bathroom door?!”

“sorry!”

olive looks to teddy. “auggie. fredward’s lame brother. and best man.”

“hi olive,” he shakes his head, seeming more amused at her antics than annoyed. like they’d been through this before. “hi, nice to meet you…”

“teddy,” she motions to herself. “best friend.”

he smiles. “teddy. that’s cute.”

teddy grins. “thank you.”

“don’t flirt with her, she’s taken,” olive interjects and teddy giggles when auggie blushes.

he clears his throat, shooting teddy an apologetic look before turning to olive. “i was looking for you actually. scarlett sent me. indigo’s ready to go.”

“and why didn’t scarlett come get me herself?”

auggie shrugs, but before he can say another word, teddy’s whisking her best friend away.

“come on, oli; it’s showtime, you can yell at your new in-laws later.” teddy shoots auggie a look of amusement and a friendly wave before disappearing down the hall.

the chaos of it all.

#wherein we cope with depression with bad writing at 3 in the morning :)

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