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skinnyducky · 2 years

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cool (pt. 2 to blush) // v.h.

a/n omg i totally forgot i was supposed to finish this sksks! FYI, there are like 3 versions of this, but this is the one l felt good about so, here it is. also, this is the first time i’m writing in third-person. feel free to tell me if you like it or not or if you want me to write in it more often :)))))

vinnie hacker x fem!reader

link to part 1

Word Count:

WARNING: language, mentions of female orgasm (not too explicitly), quite funny, vinnie’s villian era, and y/n’s 13th reason

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It had been a few days since the incident, and while Y/n would’ve still been embarrassed, her mind was occupied with other things. She, Vinnie, Jett, and Jack was finally in Seattle and while she was ecstatic about being in her boyfriend’s hometown, that also meant she was going to meet his parents. Y/n was nothing but nervous, and she had every right to be. This was her boyfriend’s parents. She wanted them to like her because their opinion meant everything. If they didn’t like her…there might not be a future for her and Vinnie.

So here she was, figuring out how she was going to approach Vinnie’s parents as they rode to their house. “Okay, should I go for the chill surfer chick and be like ‘what’s up, peeps’ or should I play it safe and just smile and nod?” Y/n asked, fiddling with her fingers.

“I think you should just be yourself.” Vinnie replied, keeping his eyes on the road. Y/n shook her head and said, “Not an option.”

Jett chuckled from the back. “Why not?”

“Because it’s just not,” Y/n answered, turning around to face him. “If I walk in their acting like myself, I’m no better than Jack.”

“Hey!” The blond boy exclaimed. “What’s wrong with being me?”

“You really want me to answer that?” Y/n chuckled before fixing her attention back to her boyfriend. “I just want your parents to like me. This is such a big deal, and I don’t know what’d I do if they don’t.”

“And they will like you as long as you’re being yourself. You don’t have to put on an act to impress my parents. Just be yourself.” He reassured, rubbing the girl’s bare thigh. At that moment, thoughts of what had happened the previous week came flooding back into her head, fusing her nerves with a bit of humiliation. Gulping, she slid his hand off her thigh and looked up at him. He was smiling, but not just smiling. It was almost as if he wanted to laugh. It was a little weird, but Y/n decided to push it aside.

“I think I’m just gonna go with the ‘girl next door’ approach.”

After a good minute of the boys bickering about nonsense, the gang finally made it to the Hacker residence. Getting out of the car, they walked up to the front door. As Vinnie knocked on it, Y/n took the time to glance over her outfit. Turning to Vin, she asked, “Do I look like a baby prostitute?”

“What?” Vinnie laughed. “Where’d that come from.”

“Just answer the question.”

“No, you do not look like a baby prostitute.”

Y/n scoffed, dusting off her skirt. “Lies.” Before Vinnie could even respond, the door opened to reveal his mom standing on the other side of it. She squealed and tackled Vinnie into a hug. “Ah, I missed you!”

“Mom, we facetimed an hour ago.” He laughed, embracing the hug. As the two pulled apart, she quickly acknowledged Jett and Jack before turning to Y/n. “Is that who I think it is?” She said with a toothy grin on her face. The next thing Y/n knew, she was engulfed in a bone-crushing hug. It was so tight; she could barely breathe.

“H-Hi, Mrs. H-Hacker,” she wheezed. Realizing that she had Y/n in a death grip, Maria let go of the poor girl. “Nice to finally meet you.” Y/n said, reclaiming her breath.

“I know you did not just call me Mrs. Hacker.” Maria scoffed, slapping her on the shoulder. “I’m not that old. Please, just call me Maria.”

Y/n laughed, “Gotcha.”

“Now, c’mon on in. You guys are sitting out here like stray cats or something.” Maria led the four young adults into the house and to the open kitchen where Vinnie’s dad stood behind the island. The minute he and Vinnie locked eyes the two were wrapped in each other’s arms. “Hey, Vin!” The older man exclaimed, patting his son on the back. As he retreated from the embrace, he peered over at Y/n. “And you finally brought Y/n with you!”

“Nice to meet you. You can call me Nate.” He held out his hand which Y/n excitedly shook. “It’s about time, he’s brought you to Seattle. We were thinking he was embarrassed by us or something.”

“Agreed. I was so nervous coming here, but I think I’m okay now.”

“You had nothing to be nervous about,” Maria said, sitting on the couch. “Vinnie’s told us nothing but good things about you. How could we not love you?”

You giggled, “Thank you!”

“Of course.” Maria replied, “Now, make sure you tell us if Vinnie acts up or anything. We won’t hesitate to put him in check.”

“Mom!”

You laughed, clutching onto your stomach. “Will do.”

For the next few minutes, everyone in the room began talking with each other. Reggie came up and said his piece before retreating to whatever he was doing with Jett and Jack following behind him. That left Y/n and Vinnie with his parents. The two sat on the couch while the young couple stood behind the counter. At this point, Y/n was no longer nervous. She was better than ever. She was cool, and nothing could ruin her mood.

“So, Vinnie tells us you’re in school,” Maria said, crossing her legs. “He never forgets to tell us how smart you are every time he calls us.”

Y/n blushed and glanced at her boyfriend before returning her eyes to Maria. “Yeah, I’m a college student.”

“You know what you’re looking to study yet? Or are you undecided?” Nate asked.

“Hm, well—” Y/n stopped midsentence, feeling a familiar tingling sensation run through her body. It sent chills trickling up and down her spine. “I-I…um.” The girl could barely even speak, the feeling of pleasure leaving her too stunned to speak. What the hell is happening, she thought to herself. Could it be? She glanced down and there rubbing against the back of her knee was Vinnie’s leg.

Y/n looked at the boy with wide eyes. He didn’t look at her, too busy staring down at his empty hands. Y/n cleared her throat, before moving an inch away from him. “Sorry about that, I get weird twitches in my leg sometimes.” She apologized, looking back at Vinnie’s parents. “Anyways, I’m looking at a few STEM majors, a couple in the medical field, and some in— OH, GOD.”

Once again, that tingling sensation ran through her body. But this time, it was much more intense. So intense, Y/n couldn’t help but let out a moan. She shut her eyes, trying her best to keep her composure. But no amount of breathing could contain the amount of bliss she was receiving. It was then, the memory of the incident came flooding back to her again. It was as if it was happening all over again…but at a much worse time. Y/n glanced down once again and there bouncing up against the back of her knee was none other than Vinnie’s leg. It was at this moment, Y/n knew Vinnie wasn’t just doing this on accident.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Maria asked, a worried expression written on her face.

“I-I’m all good. This leg just tends to, um…have a mind of its own.” Y/n shot a thumbs up at the woman. “I should be fine— Holy hell!” Y/n nearly toppled over as she felt the all too familiar storm brewing within her.

Maria quickly stood up from her spot on the couch. “I’m gonna go find you something for that. I think I may have something that can help with those spasms. Nate, can you come help me look?”

“Why do I—”

“Nate.”

The man sighed before following his wife down into the hall, leaving Y/n and Vinnie alone. Once she found her ground, she glared at the grinning boy. “Why are you doing this?” Y/n growled, leaning against the counter.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Vinnie answered, a snicker following after.

“Don’t play stupid, Hacker. You know what the hell you’re doing.”

“And what is it that I’m doing?”

With her hands on her hip, Y/n sighed. “You know don’t you.”

Vinnie pursed lips and shrugged. “I seriously have no clue what you’re talking about, Y/n.”

“Okay, cut the shit.” Y/n said. “How long have you known?”

“Since it happened.”

“Jesus, Vinnie! You didn’t tell anyone did you?”

“Nope, I’d be ruthless if I did that.” He laughed. “But I can’t lie, it took everything in me not to tell Jett and Jack the minute you left. That shit was so funny.”

Y/n huffed, “Eat a dick, Vinnie.”

Just then, Vinnie’s parents returned, and Maria slid a cream over to Y/n. “I keep that around just in case Reggie ever has any muscle spasms or anything. It should help, or at least I hope so.” Y/n bid her thanks to the woman and reached for the cream. But before she could even grab it, a jolt of electricity she was well acquainted with ran through her body and she went tumbling onto the floor. At this point, Vinnie could no longer contain his laughter.

“Y/n!” Maria shrieked.

“I’m good…” The girl weakly called from the floor. “Just dandy.”

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie x reader #vinnie hacker x reader

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descent-into-the-rift · 2 years

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Life is Strange but it’s Stranger Things

LISTEN- listen

I don’t know if someone has mentioned this before, I’m sorry if so but does anyone know if the Duffers have ever mentioned knowing and/or having Life is Strange as another inspiration for Stranger Things?

Cause dude listen-

Life is Strange 1 is from January 2015 and Stranger Things is from July 2016, also Life is Strange: Before the Storm is from August 2017

They’re pretty different stories, but they have a fistful of good parallels.

I’m not saying they got inspired by this game, I just wanna talk about the things that remind me a lot of it. Also it’s 4am and I still haven’t slept at all but I wanted to talk about this before I forgot, so I’m probably missing on some stuff and might make zero sense every once in a while.

This is honestly very exciting for me to talk about because Life is Strange is literally one of my favourite games to ever exist. Just hear me out, I’m gonna try to make this short but make some sense whatsoever. There’s most likely gonna be spoilers of Life is Strange, I’m gonna try my best not to give too many but still.

The first time I ever watched Stranger Things (which was relatively recent, about three to four months maybe) I kinda thought a few things reminded me of Life is Strange (aside of the names being similar)

But after a while, when I started getting into theories and analysing more I realised the amount of parallels is crazy, and this could definitely be a coincidence and a reach from my part but I still want to talk about it because I think it’s really interesting. I’m gonna mention the things about ST that just made me think of Life is Strange.

Max Mayfield

- Max moved from California to Hawkins, a small town where everyone pretty much knows each other and rumours spread relatively quickly.

(Now I don’t think this would be on purpose, because I think you don’t know this about Rachel until Before the Storm which came in just two months before ST’s season 2 but still a similarity I guess? Rachel Amber is from California just like Max Mayfield.)

Max Caulfield

- Max moved from Seattle to Arcadia Bay, a small town where again everyone knows everyone and no one’s particularly safe from rumours.

Now, this is just something that always makes me go ‘huh’. Two pairs named the same in both stories are in both cases in the same family. Joyce and William.

Joyce Byers

- Joyce is the mother of the family.

- She has a job that doesn’t pay her much to take care of her family

- Joyce’s family’s had no father in it for quite a while, in Joyce Byers’ case it’s that the father is a horrible manipulative abuser.

Joyce Price

- Joyce is too, the mother of the family.

- She also has a job that doesn’t pay her enough for all the work she has to do everyday.

- While just like Joyce Byers, Joyce Price’s family has no father anymore, the reason to it is the father died in a car accident. (I’m not saying it makes me think of that car on fire scene in the teaser but I might be saying just that)

Yet Joyce Byers is much more strong-willed than Joyce Price, now I’m not judging Joyce Price for it, she has her reasons to her behaviour and with everything she’s going through it’s understandable, all there’s to say is I can’t picture her doing everything Joyce Byers did to find her son and later to protect her family. I do think she hides a little too much behind her new husband’s sexist beliefs and makes it seem like all the wrong going on is mostly her daughter’s fault when her daughter’s going through a terrible time herself.

ANYWAY-

William Byers

William Price

Okay, literally the only similarity between Will Byers and Will Price is the names and that they’re both incredibly wholesome people.

William Byers is Joyce Byers’ son while William Price is Joyce Price’s deceased husband.

They’re not very important parallels just something I wanted to mention cause I thought it was interesting. Moving on-

Max loves photography and is great at it, which reminds me a lot of someone.

Max and Eleven have the same way of using their powers by raising their hand, and bleeding from their nose after it.

The way the sound focuses when Eleven is spying on someone in the void are very similar to how the sound focuses when Max is travelling to a memory. (You can see that most clearly when she spies on Mike, Lucas and Will, and Mike’s “What did I do wrong” sounds muffled until she’s completely in) In addition to that, both use pictures for it (Eleven needs it many times, while Max always requires one to do it).

tw kidnap: The way Heather is tied up and brought to a basement under a place surrounded by trees, grass and paths in 3x02 is very similar to how girls are tied and brought to the basement also under a place surrounded with grass and trees, the difference is said basement in Life is Strange is a dark room.

Max and Will both have episodes, in Max’s case it’s always the same storm in the same place regardless of where she is, while Will’s current location just changes to its form in the upside down, the storm is usually there.

While Will's episodes are to the present in the upside down, Max’s episodes are about an event in the future.

Mike’s rebelling phase reminds me a bit of Chloe’s, specially the “everyone graffitis the bathroom stall” line as a somewhat parallel to Chloe graffitying every inch of the school bathroom right after getting expelled. Both phases come after the loss of someone they loved, while Chloe’s phase is confirmed to be caused by her father’s death, nothing really confirms Mike’s phase is because of Eleven’s farewell, but a lot of things point to that. Again, this is shown in Before the Storm so chances are; coincidence. I mean you always figure Chloe’s this way because of losing her father but it’s not exactly confirmed until the prequel, Before the storm

Rachel Amber and Will Byers:

From the beginning of the story, you get to know Rachel is missing, and Chloe’s going out of her way to find her. Will is missing pretty much from the beginning of the story until the end of the season and, who was it that was going out of their way to find him again?

In Rachel’s case she’s been missing for 6 months and well, she stays missing until it’s figured out she’s always gonna stay that way.

Rachel shows to be very connected to fire, and when I say very I mean very

And I’ve said this a thousand times but Will is definitely connected to fire.

Also I know this is unimportant and definitely a reach but still- the flannels

Meanwhile, if all this is on purpose, Max’s similarities to Will could further hint him having powers.

The butterfly symbolism in Life is Strange is very important, and there so happens to be a lot of butterfly symbolism in Stranger Things, I actually talked about a theory I had about it before, saying it might refer to the way some relationships are treated. The symbolism in Life is Strange is the butterfly effect, and also has a particular connection to Chloe Price.

Now to a part I wanted to talk about too, Dontnod games are well-known for having a lot of LGBTQ+ representation. You’re always given the choice to go through the heterosexual path for the character you’re playing, but the representation is always shown no matter what.

Not saying it means anything but Rachel Amber and Chloe Price have their first kiss only a few days after knowing each other, and though they never establish this it’s hinted that however open it was, they were in a relationship. And though it’s for reasons they can’t fight, said relationship is not endgame. Do whatever you want with that. Just all the while remember Life is Strange: Before the Storm came out after the first season of Stranger Things, and most likely too late to have inspired anything about Stranger Things 2.

Meanwhile, Max Caulfield and Chloe Price fall in love in the course of years, although they spend a few of them in different countries, they’re childhood friends that have known each other and hung out together since they were very small. Reminds me of Mike and Will but who can know.

On that topic, when Max moves back to Arcadia Bay, Chloe resents her for not sending her a single letter for most years she’d been gone but does admit in Before the Storm that even after completely ghosting Chloe, if Max showed up at her doorstep now she’d give in. Evidently nothing says Life is Strange and Stranger Things are connected in any way as similar as some things are, but if L.I.S were to be an inspiration for ST somehow, maybe the “not sending letters after moving away” conflict could be a thing in St4 between probably either M/leven or Byler, in both cases it’d most likely be Mike who’d be staying a little too silent. If it were to be an inspiration, cause maybe this is a total stretch.

Somewhat spoiler: The final choice Max has to make and the explanation to it does make me think a bit of both Will and Eleven and even Mike but I don’t really want to think too much about it, I’ve enough anxiety as it is to think about one possible ending for either of them that ruins me, as plausible as it can get, I don’t care, I don’t wanna think about it right now.

Anyway! I may have missed a few things that are also similar, and I’m really not saying any of this was on purpose, but I just wanted to leave it out there before I potentially forget about it.

#stranger things #stranger things theory #byler #will byers #el hopper #max mayfield

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villainousshakespeare · 3 years

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Putting It Back Together Chapter 1

Adam/OFC

Rated M (will probably change to E) - Grief, angst, eventual smut, mention of characters dead before the start of the story

Summary: Since the death of his beloved Eve, Adam had been barely living, only alive due to a promise he made to her. Then one night he meets his new neighbor, a woman dealing with grief of her own. Will they help each other heal or drive each other crazy?

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @gorgeous1974 @maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @thecutestlittlebunbunfairy @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions

So I decided to take a crack at Adam. The plan is to have this be around 10 chapters, but that is just a guess at the moment. It starts a little angsty, but will lighten up as it goes along. Hope you enjoy!

If you would like on or off the tag list, please let me know!

It was more of a mist than a drizzle adding chill to the late autumn air as he walk through the dark streets. Even this time of night there were noises of fellow wanders, zombies he was sure, but he managed to keep from the streets where they roamed. The last thing he needed was to be confronted with the mindlessness of what passed for humanity in these times.

That was the trade off of life in the city. The need to constantly dodge others was barely offset by the convenience of shops open late and services not bound by the constraints of daylight. Not that Adam needed many services of others. He was in most ways self sufficient. He had worked for centuries to make it so. With but two exceptions - sustenance and music - he had only ever needed one soul besides his own.

She was gone now, his Eve. Eleven years had passed since she had taken a glass of tainted blood in Tangier. It seemed like yesterday, it seemed like a lifetime. He wished it were his lifetime. Only a promise dragged out of him at her death bead had kept him from following her into oblivion. She had used every trick she possessed, every weakness she knew in him, to get him to agree to her demand, and now he was trapped, bound by a promise to another century on this blighted earth. Eighty-nine more revolutions until he could use the wooden bullet that lay heavy in breast pocket and end his grief.

He had wandered after she left him. Angry and bitter, he had left Africa and roved across the globe. Everywhere he went, though, there were memories. He saw her everywhere in Europe. The Middle East was littered with memories. Even South America echoed a life spent together.

Finally he had come back to America. She had not spent as much time in the States. It was easier here. He had considered Seattle, New Orleans, Memphis, the various musical centers of the country, but in the end New York had drawn him in. Strange, he had never spent much time here. Too many zombies too close together. And yet, he could not deny it had definite advantages, and for the most part no one paid any attention to what anyone else did.

He arrived at last at the brownstone in the East Village where he lived his weary life. He was excited, or at least as excited as he was capable of these days, to test out the Rickenbacker bass guitar that he had stumbled upon in a pawn shop. The owner had no idea how rare the model was, and had not known how to react to the large roll of cash that Adam had thrust at him for the instrument.

Quickly shucking his black leather jacket, Adam took out he new prize and lovingly stroked the light grained wood. He could feel the decades of music that it had produced still reverberating through the body. He flicked a series of toggles and buttons to power up his sound system and plugged the Rickenbacker in. Closing his eyes he placed his fingers firmly on the frets and plucked out a rapid series of low notes, loving the reverberation and full tones it produced. Just as he began to segue into an actual song, however, a loud bang sounded and the lights, sound, and all other electronic power went dead.

"Shit!" he spit out, mood collapsing back in on itself as quickly as it had risen.

Setting the bass gently back in its case despite his irritation, Adam fumbled through his belongings until he located his tool box. After attaching his head torch and grabbing a second flash light just in case, he made his way down the hall to the ladder that lead up through a hatch onto the roof where a small shed held the electric box for his home.

"Just what I fucking need," he muttered, pulling himself onto the tarred surface.

He was just picking his tools back up when a loud creaking noise drew his attention. Just a few feet away, a second hatch door had opened, and a shape was pulling itself up and onto the roof with some difficulty, judging by the swearing. Adam watched in dismay as the shape unfolded itself to reveal a woman silhouetted against the half moon. She had a large, over bright flashlight in her hands that waved back and forth as she made her way to the shed that was his own destination.

"Who are you?" he asked, intercepting her before she could reach the structure.

"Ohmyfuckinggod!" she cried out, jumping almost a foot as he appeared in front of her.

Adam crossed his arms and waited silently for her to calm down, mouth drawn down into a habitual scowl.

"You scared me half to death!" she told him needlessly when she had regained some of her composure.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded.

"Oh, you know, just signaling Batman that evil is afoot," she said dryly, waving her oversized lamp back and forth.

Adam continued to stare at her, unamused, until she sighed and gave him a real answer.

"I'm checking out the fuse box. Are you from 89? You must be, I guess. So your lights are out too? It doesn't look like it's the whole block, just our two buildings. Hopefully flipping the switch will bring them back on."

"There's no need for you to trouble yourself," he told her when she finally stopped talking. "I have things well in hand. The power should be on shortly."

"Great," she said with a forced smile.

She didn't move. Why was she still standing there? Adam glowered at her, hoping to scare her off, but the brainless girl just stood there.

"Did you need something else?" he asked reluctantly.

"No, just the one thing," she replied, blinking at him. "Shall we get to it?"

"This will hardly take two," he ground out. "And I know how the system works."

He should! He had redone the entire wiring himself. The convoluted system of shorting wires and faulty circuits had been a travesty when he moved in. It had taken him almost a month to tear it out and build a more streamlined, efficient energy grid. The only problem now was when he forgot himself and pulled too much power for the subpar wiring in the wall to take. He had considered redoing that as well, but it would take time and draw attention, which he was keen on avoiding.

"Wonderful, then you can show me," she chirped at him. "After all, you may not be here the next time it goes off, and then I won't know how it works."

She was not going to let this go, he could tell from the deceptively stubborn set of her shoulders. With a roll of his eyes that he doubted her human eyes could catch in the darkness, he turned on his heel and walked over to the shed. Let her look at it, he decided. It was not like she would understand what he had done anyway.

"Woah," the nattering woman whistled as he opened the door. "That is not what I was expecting at all! It looks like some form of microhydraulics, but there's no way you could have a water source up here. What are you using?"

Adam turned and stared at her, really looking at her for the first time. She was short, even for a woman, not even coming up to his chin. Her hair was haphazardly tied into a bunch on the top of her head and looked like it would be bigger than she was if she were to let it down. The eyes she turned up towards him were inquisitive and sharp. She was pretty, he thought, for a zombie.

"How do you know about that?" he asked.

"I tinker," she said with a shrug. "When I'm anxious. Which is a lot of the time lately, to be honest. Too much energy. Sometimes it helps to take things apart an put them back together again."

Adam opened his mouth to respond, but realized he had no idea what he planned on saying. He closed it again and turned back to his contraption.

"Well, don't get any ideas about taking this apart," he grumbled, resetting the mechanism.

"No, I wouldn't," she assured him. "I only mess with my own things until I'm sure I can get them back the way they started. I learned that the hard way. This is really amazing. You are pulling in a boat load of energy. I just hope you don't burn the buildings down when it runs into the wiring. You're a musician, right? I've heard you practicing through the walls. I was so relieved you were good!"

Did this woman never stop talking? Despite his lack of response she seemed perfectly content to stand behind him, shining her flood light on the shed as he worked to get things running again.

"Oh! I see what you did there!" she commented brightly as the low hum of electricity started back up. "That should fix it. And I'm pretty sure I will be able to do that myself next time too!"

"Don't," he ordered, shutting the door with a loud clang. "If there is any problem with the power, I will fix it. I don't need someone else ruining my work."

"But if you're not here?" she repeated doggedly.

"Look, this has never been an issue before, why are you suddenly on my case about it now?"

"I didn't live here before," she answered. "I just moved in last week. This... this was my Grandmother's home. She died. Last week. I'm trying to sort it all now but..."

The light from his headtorch clearly lit up the tears that sprang to her eyes. As Adam stood there in horror, the girl's chin began to wobble and silent sobs hiccupped through her body. A moment later she had burst out crying. Adam, unable to think of anything else to do, slowly and gingerly put one arm around her shaking shoulders and patted her lamely on the back, wishing he could be anywhere else in the world.

***

Lilly woke up completely horrified. It had been a dream, she told herself. It had to have been a dream. That was the only way she was going to survive the events of the night before.

The soreness in her eyes and the streaks of mascara on the backs of her hands, unfortunately, told her the sad truth. It had been real. She had met her dark, handsome, mysterious neighbor, the one who played dark, mysterious music at all hours of the night, on a dark, mysterious rooftop. (Well, okay, maybe the rooftop hadn't been that mysterious, but still!) And what had she done? She had wept all over him like pathetic child.

This, she sighed to herself, was one of the many many reasons why she was single. Any normal girl would have played the damsel in distress, fluttered their eyes and let him be their hero. He certainly had the looks of a brooding hero, even if he seemed to lack the inclination. Of course, it might just be that he lacked the inclination because she had yammered on about anxiety and tinkering, and her grandmother's death and the cried all over him.

Groaning, she rolled over and looked at her clock, only to be greeted by blinking numbers. Of course. She had been too upset when he had finally managed to steer her back to her roof hatch and rid himself of her, lost in a combination of grief and humiliation, to reset it. Great. That meant that the alarm had never gone off. It could be any time now. A quick glance at her phone confirmed her fear. 4:00 in the afternoon. It had happened. She had become completely nocturnal.

Slowly dragging herself up, Lilly staggered to the bathroom and tried to let the hot water wash away her misery. She was tired of feeling miserable. By nature she was not a gloomy person. Anxious, yes, but not gloomy. It was just being here, in the house that once was her happy place but now held too many memories. All she could see where ever she looked was her beloved grandmother. Playing the piano, reading in the window nook, cooking in the large, renovated kitchen. Grandma Lillian was everywhere.

Growing up, Lilly had been an awkward child; small of body but big of personality Gran had said. She was always moving, either her hands or her mouth, having a hard time with stillness. It drove many people to distraction. Grandma Lillian, however, had stated quite matter of factly that she simply had a lot to do and more to say, and therefore needed to do it quickly.

Lilly had spent all of her summers and school vacations here, escaping into the city. Here, she could be herself. With all of the characters in New York City, she was far from the oddest. Grandma Lillian let her patter away happily, always taking her words seriously. She had also found all sorts of mechanical things for Lilly to tinker with, focusing her energy in a more productive direction. It was nonsense, she had opined, that girls were not encouraged more to go into the technical fields. Obviously that was the reason why nothing in this world ran properly.

She had hidden her illness from the family, from Lilly, until the very end. Lilly cursed herself that she had not seen through the excuses for the cancelled visits. A seniors cruise with her girlfriends! She could not imagine the opinionated woman stuck on a boat without someone going overboard. It wasn't until the very end, when she was had been taken to Hospice, that she had phoned Lillian to let her know that it was time to come and visit.

That was eight days ago. Lillian had held her hand at the end, singing in her tear choked voice the torch songs that her Grandmother had once made her living crooning in the night clubs of the city. It had not taken long. Less than a day and Lilly was alone, the owner of a house in the East Village and more money than she had ever imagined possessing, but much the poorer regardless.

The ensuing week was spent puttering around the brownstone, listlessly going through desks and dressers, boxes and cupboards. The memorabilia of a lifetime squirreled away into any available space. She had no need to work at the moment, which was good since she had no employment. Slowly but surely her own night owl tendencies had taken over and she was staying up until the sun streaked the horizon in the morning, only to bed down for the majority of the day. Her parents had always fretted and said it was a sign of depression. Gran had shrugged and agreed that the most exciting things happened at night.

The only excitement Lillian had experienced thus far had been the discovery that a new owner was in residence next door. For as long as she could remember there had been a constant stream of college and conservatory students renting out rooms in the building, turning over each year to the newest crop. Now though, there was one lodger only and he owned the building.

She had caught sight of him out the front window as he was leaving her second night there. Long, wild black hair that looked in want of brushing, black leather jacket, and black jeans that might have been painted on. He was tall, lean, and somehow dangerous looking. It was the way he walked, she decided. There was something almost feral in the swagger as he took off down the street. The next night she had heard him playing music.

At first she thought there were multiple musicians, but after hours spent guiltlessly eavesdropping she became convinced that it was only him. Interspersed with guitars, drums, bass, and other instruments that she couldn't name had come his voice, a distinctive low growl that cut through her sorrow to go straight to her core. She could feel the vibrations of his voice as surely as she heard the bass thumping through the walls.

She began haunting the window overlooking their stoops, hoping for sight of him. She caught glimpses a time or two, always late at night, well after dark. Rather he was coming in or going out, he seemed to eschew the daylight even more than she did. Lilly felt drawn to him, and by more than just his untamed beauty. She supposed she could write it off as one of her hyper-fixations, but intuitively she sensed it was more. She longed for an excuse to meet him.

And then she had. At night, on a roof, under a bright moon.

It would have been perfectly romantic, were she not dressed in a ratty sweatshirt and yoga pants, her hair flopped up any old way on her head. If her first words to him were not gasped out in a shriek, followed by thoughtless prattle. And the, the coup de gras, her sobbing breakdown. The look of unmixed horror on his face as he made his feeble attempt to calm her was burned into Lilly's brain.

She had to get rid of it. There might only be one chance to make a first impression, but maybe, just maybe, a second impression could in time supersede it. Never one to sit on a thought, Lilly squared her shoulders. It was six o'clock, he was bound to still be in. She would pay him a visit and apologize for her horrid behavior.

Yes, that was the plan. After all, what was the worst that could happen? It was bound to go better than last time.

#adam olla #Adam/OFC #Tom Hiddleston #Fic #Only Lovers Left Alive #OLLA #angst #anxiety #eventual smut #grief #will lighten up #I promise #smut to come

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lils-writes-stuff · 4 years

Text

New Beginnings

Spencer Reid x reader

Best Years Season 2 part one | season one

summary: Readers first day back on the job is a lot different then she expected.

warning: normal criminal minds things, mentions of suicide, fluff at the end (such cute fluff)

A/N: based on season 8 episode 1; so um, the ending is really cute.

“I must say, Agent Y/L/N, I wasn’t expecting this to be the answer,” Strauss said with a disappointed look as she closed her leather folder.

“You’re asking me to leave the BAU, how did you expect my answer to not be no,” Y/N said with furrowed brows.

This is not how Y/N wanted to be welcomed back after her leave. She was gone two months and in that time Strauss decided she wanted to move her to a new unit. That was flat out disrespectful.

“Well with Agent Prentiss’s move, I was expecting you to want to be reassigned,” Strauss said, folding her hands on her stomach. “You have made progress here, and other units have seen that and want you on their teams.”

Y/N looked at her knowing that wasn’t the full truth, Strauss had something to do with this also. She always did.

“And I also believe that your time in BAU has been paid and it’s time to do greater things. You could be one of the best fugitive task force agents, your skills I’ve seen are-”

“I appreciate that Strauss, really I do, but I’ve made a home at the BAU-” Y/N stood up from the chair- “And I have no plans on moving anytime soon.”

With that, she walked out of the office and towards the elevator. The hum of the elevator was quiet and it only boiled her rage. Strauss wasn’t an all-around terrible person, but when it came to work, she always had to have what she wanted. Everything had to be tip-top and work out in her favor, and Y/N guessed Strauss forgot what it’s like to be in the field and work with a team.

When the doors dinged open, Y/N swiftly walked out and into Hotch’s office. She didn’t bother to knock, she just opened the door and stood in front of his desk.

Hotch looked up from his paperwork with a confused look. “Please, Y/N come in.”

She huffed, “Sir, do you think that my time has been paid at the BAU?”

He raised a brow as he looked at her with a confused gaze. “No?”

“So you would agree that Section Chief Strauss’s opinion to move me to a new unit is unprecedented?”

Y/N’s announcement took Hotch by surprise, clearly, he didn’t know about this. He set down his ink pen, signifying his full attention was now on the conversation.

“Do you want to be moved?” He asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Hell no,” she responded quickly. “She thinks that because Emily left, that ‘I would want to move’-” she used a mocking tone with quotation marks as she quoted Strauss- “Said my skills would be of good use in Fugitive Task Force.”

“I can’t make any promises, but I will do everything I can to not have you moved, Y/N.”

His words were comforting, but with what happened with JJ a couple of years ago, she wasn’t sure. But that was the state department, this was still in the FBI, so maybe it wouldn’t turn out so bad.

Thanking Hotch, she walked out of the office and down the stairs to the bullpen. When she came to the door, she was met with Penelope and Derek. Penelope holding many nick-nacks from her visit to London with Derek to help Emily settle into her new life there.

“Garcia, you guys were talking yest-” Penelope cut off Derek as she saw Y/N approach.

“Y/N!” She exclaimed trotting over to Y/N in her heels to hug her. It was a difficult task with her bag filled arms. “Oh my gosh, I missed you so much.”

“I missed you too,” Y/N pulled away from her hug and reached over for Derek.

“Hey, Wonder Woman,” he said, giving her a squeeze.

“Were you one the last case?” Penelope asked.

“No, actually today is my-”

“Wait, where is everybody else? Don’t tell me they’re still in Seattle,” Penelope interjected when she noticed the empty desks in the office.

“I just saw Hotch.” She turned to look at all the empty desks in the bullpen. Her brows furrowed in confusion.

“Well actually,” Derek said pointing behind Penelope to JJ and Spencer as they entered.

“Hi, you guys are back!” JJ said walking into the office clapping her hands together.

Y/N’s face lit up as she saw Spencer. She hadn’t seen him in what felt like forever since he left for the case in Seattle. Her mandatory leave allowed him to come over to hang out with her in a stress-free environment. But then she realized that with the emotional trauma she thought she buried had now bubbled back up, she couldn’t be alone. Her therapist recommended for her to live with Spencer. So when she brought it up with him, he was very enthusiastic about the idea.

“Oy, mates! Give me a squeeze,” Penelope said with a fake British accent.

JJ hugged Penelope then moved to Derek.

“Y/N, how have you been?” JJ asked moving to give her a hug. She hadn’t seen her in a while from her busy life at work and at home.

“Good, better now that I’m back at work,” she responded with a giggle.

Spencer then moved to hug Y/N after doing his odd handshake with Derek. A week and a half was too long without seeing her. He wrapped his arms around her waist and swung her in a circle and pecked her cheek.

“You would think they don’t live together or something,” Derek laughed as the happy couple reunited.

“Right?” JJ agreed with a laugh.

“How’s Emily doing?” Spencer asked once he set Y/N down and turned back to the three beside them.

“Brilliant and Lovely.” Penelope continued her accent.

“Her apartments off the chain,” Derek said.

“You mean her flat,” Penelope corrected his terminology. “You have to take a shaky old lift to get to the top, but the view is brilliant.”

Once she finished her statement, she did her excited little gasp and began to pull presents out of her bag.

“For my favorite bloke.” She handed Spencer a mug with the British flag on it.

“Hey, I love it! Thank you!” Spencer responded gratefully.

She handed JJ a little double-decker bus for her desk, which she thanked her for.

“Oh and Y/N, I thought you would love this.” Penelope then pulled a snowglobe the size of her hand out of a different bag.

It had Big Ben in the middle, surrounded by the streets of London with little people and cars filling them.

“Oh my gosh, this will go perfect with my collection.” Y/N smiled at Penelope and thanked her. She had made it a point when she first joined the team to, if possible, get a snowglobe from every state she visited. She had a lot now, almost all fifty, and an international one was a great thing to add to her collection.

“Hey, Morgan, how was temporary duty?” Y/N asked, peeling her eyes off of the beautiful snowglobe.

“Oh, it was around the clock,” Derek responded. “I thought I’d get a little more of a vacation, but…”

“Did you watch the Olympics at all?” Spencer asked.

“I did see a little track and field, but the queen bee here-” he gestured to Penelope- “She saw everything.”

“Hey, me too, that’s all I got to do during my sabbatical, besides talking to my therapist.” Y/N giggled high-fiving Penelope as she related.

“Emily is, for real, hooked up over there. She sends her love, and tea of the month starts next week,” Penelope said, her eyes bouncing between the three who weren’t with her.

“Oh, I miss her,” JJ said staring absently at the floor behind Penelope.

“Me too,” Y/N agreed.

“Don’t even get me started,” Penelope said shaking her head. “Hey, how’s the new? Is she nice?”

Penelope was referring to the new team recruit, who had joined during their time in London, and Y/N’s leave.

“Yeah, she is,” JJ answered sincerely.

“Y/N, have you met her?” Penelope turned to Y/N who was standing next to Spencer.

“I have yet to meet her, but Spence has told me about her,” Y/N responded.

“I’m just asking. Reid-” Penelope whipped her head to make eye contact with Spencer- “Do you know she was recruited when she was 24?”

“I’ve guest lectured in her forensics linguistics class before,” Spencer said.

“Of course you have, cause she's a professor and an agent, which is so impressive,” Penelope muttered.

“No, really, she’s great,” JJ said trying to convince Penelope that this change was good.

“Mm-hmm, and driven, clearly. Berkely grad, double major, bureau star of the Unabomber case, and she teaches at George town,” Penelope said, reciting everything she knew about this woman from her research.

“When she’s not doing that, she’s SSAing at the Washington Field Office. And she has her PhD. does that mean I have to call her doctor?”

While Penelope continued her spew, the four in front of her just looked at her with a ‘really?’ look. Y/N just let out a chuckle, missing Penelope’s sass.

“What?! I did some research on her cause I couldn’t sleep on the plane,” She defended herself. “And my point is, clearly, she is smart and capable but is she nice?”

As Penelope finished her question, Derek, JJ, and Y/N cleared their throats to stop her as SSA Alex Blake walked up behind her.

Y/N let out a giggle as Spencer moved away from his spot beside Penelope as if trying to get away from the situation.

“Oh dear god, this is happening. Where I talk and the person is behind…” she trailed off as she turned to be met with Blake. “Me.”

“The origin of ‘nice’, is twelfth-century Middle English, meaning foolish or stupid,” Blake said as she met Penelope’s eyes. “I hope you’re referring to the modern use of the adjective.”

Y/N let out a muffled laugh into her hand that covered her mouth, not being able to keep it in any longer. Derek smacked her arm but was also smiling as he was struggling not to laugh.

“You must be Penelope,” Blake concurred once Penelope stayed in a silent, embarrassed state. “I’m Alex Blake.”

“Nice to meet you. Really, actually nice in the nicest of ways nice,” Penelope said quietly as Derek placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m Derek Morgan,” Derek said, shaking Blake’s hand.

“Welcome back,” she responded.

Y/N then stepped up to introduce herself.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N,” she stuck her hand out.

To her surprise, she smiled adoringly at her. “Welcome back to you too, Dr. Reid mentioned you the last time he guest lectured to me.”

Y/N giggled and glanced at Spencer who had a shy blush on his face. “Good things I hope.”

“Of course.”

“How was Seattle?” Derek asked Blake.

“The unsub made Ridgway look like a saint. He even used his own kid to bait his victims,” Blake responded.

“Mm, those aren’t fun, we’ve seen them before, and no doubt will see those again,” Y/N said with a grimace.

Blake nodded and was about to respond but Rossi walked in quickly.

“Don’t unpack,” Rossi said as he walked past quickly.

“Garcia, the files,” Hotch said as he also walked past.

Penelope nodded, muttering some words under her breath, embarrassed by her whole encounter as she walked away.

The team made their way up to the round table room swiftly.

“A few hours ago there was a prison transfer to the county hospital in Abilene, Texas. The Ambulance crashed and the prisoner escaped.” As Hotch began the case, Strauss entered with files and handed them to everyone.

“He’s wearing the EMT uniform, and he’s armed with the guard’s weapon,” Strauss continued.

“Aren’t the U.S. Marshals on this?” Derek asked.

“Yes, they are, but they need your help because this is what they found inside.” Strauss grabbed the remote and pulled up a picture of the victim.

“The EMT and the driver died in the accident, the guard, however, suffocated,” Strauss continued as they saw the Guard laying on the table in the photo. The EMT laid in the back in only his underwear and a white T-shirt.

“What’s on his mouth?” Y/N asked as she noticed the guard’s mouth had something on it.

“It was sewn shut,” Strauss responded.

“So the prisoner in the silencer,” Blake said as she remembered the signature.

“Or this guy’s a copycat,” Rossi countered.

“Forensics confirmed it’s the same unique double-knot ligature he used in all three murder,” Hotch said, debunking the copycat theory.

“His last known victim was in 2004 and he was never caught,” Spencer reminded everyone.

“So he didn’t go dormant by choice, he was locked up,” JJ concluded.

“Well, why not just escape? If he hadn’t sewn the guard’s mouth shut, we would never know it was him,” Derek said.

“He wants us to know he’s back,” Rossi replied to Derek’s statement with more clarity.

“We’ve got his face, what’s his name?” Blake asked Hotch.

“John Doe,” Hotch answered. “He was pulled over in ‘04 for a traffic violation, no registration, no tags, he carried no I.D.,” he continued.

“No way he did eight years for that,” Y/N said, confused as to why this man was in prison.

“They searched the car and found a gun with a silencer,” Hotch replied.

“A silencer, he was practically telling them who he was and no one made the connection,” Rossi stated baffled.

“It’s a federal offense, carries a 30-year minimum sentence, but it was actually what he did inside that guaranteed him life without parole,” Hotch finished.

“He killed two men while inside,” JJ said reading the report in her file.

“And never said a word,” Spencer added.

“Mm-hmm, he spoke with his fists,” Blake corrected as she looked at the report of all the fights he had been in.

“Remaining silent for 8 years takes a hell of a lot of self-restraint,” Derek said.

“Maybe it was a conditioned response,” Spencer said looking back at Derek.

“Garcia’s gathering all the files from ‘04, we’ll catch up on the plane. Wheels up in 30.” Hotch picked up his file and nodded his head to dismiss everyone.

Y/N walked out of the room with Spencer trailing behind her closely.

“Hey,” he said, catching up beside her while she was at her desk. “How was your meeting with Strauss?”

Y/N just looked at him with an annoyed look, hoping that would tell him how she felt about it.

“That bad?”

“Oh yeah, but we’ll talk about it when we get back.” She pulled her duffle over her shoulder and laid her coat across her arm.

Spencer nodded, grabbing his own bag, and led the way out of the office.

----------

Everyone sat in silence on the plane, looking over the files in hand. It wasn’t awkward, but it was filled with the stiffness you get when everyone’s minds are busy at work.

“Did any of you work on the Silencer case?” Blake asked, breaking the silence in hope to relieve the tension.

“That was during my extended sabbatical,” Rossi answered.

“I was still in college,” Y/N also answered.

The air became stiff again as Y/N mentioned college. After many times of telling the team, she was fine, and most of her trauma was gone, they still avoided the topic of college memories. She appreciated the fact they didn’t want to trigger any unwanted trauma, but she hated the fact that they walked on eggshells about the topic.

“We all consulted, but nobody made the trip to Texas,” Hotch said, answering for the rest of the team.

Blake looked up confused as to why they didn’t make the trip. “Why not? Three women in four months, it’s textbook kill rate, an undeniable signature, obvious surrogates.”

She let out a scuff of confusion.

“We weren’t invited by local police,” Hotch responded, disappointment that they weren’t invited evident in his voice .

“Aren’t you tired of that?” Blake said, annoyed that was the case of their help not being there.

The team chuckled, all silently saying ‘we know it’s annoying’.

“Welcome to our world,” Y/N giggled along with everyone else.

“The women he killed were beaten and left in open ditches. That physical representation of his anger is missing this time around,” Derek said as he switched the subject to victimology.

“He must do something else that satisfies him,” JJ said.

“The signature is the same, but his victimology couldn’t be more different,” Spencer began answering JJ and Derek’s statements. The guard was clearly a victim of necessity, but if he’s in need-driven behavior, such as sewing the mouths shut, how can he control that and only do it to the guard?”

“Maybe he just ran out of time,” Y/N said, answering Spencer’s now posed question.

“Or he could just want the guard to suffer in silence,” Derek argued.

“Literally makes his victims shut up,” Rossi agreed with his own twist on the argument.

“It seems obvious, but, uh, there may be something to it,” Hotch said, turning his head to Spencer for confirmation.

Spencer nodded his head.

“Then the question is why?” Blake asked.

“Morgan, you, Y/N, and JJ go to the M.E., Reid, you and Dave check out John Doe’s cell, and Blake and I will head to the U.S. Marshals,” Hotch said.

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

Y/N hated the M.E., it smelt weird to her. She could deal with dead bodies, sure, but it was the smell of all the sterile equipment and the LED lights that gave her a headache.

“The suture is 6-zero nylon, P-3 needle, 13-millimeter long, ⅜ circle. A dozen of these would come in a box,” The M.E. said as she walked over to JJ, Y/N, and Derek who were beside the body.

“The suture drawer was empty on the ambulance,” Derek said.

“Then he’s got a lot more,” the M.E. concluded.

“His techniques aren’t like a mortician,” JJ said as she examined the mouth.

“It almost looks like the stitching is strictly through the lips,” Y/N agreed. She crossed her arms over her stomach as she leaned down closer to the face of the body. She turned her head to look at the stitching that almost looked like something from a horror movie.

“It’s rather crude what he’s done,” the M.E. added then pointed to the lips of the guard. “You see how the nylon is stretched? The victim struggled, which says the prisoner did it while this guy was still alive.”

“Torture, just like his first victims,” JJ said, concluding that this was the torture for this victim like how he did with his others.

“Well, now that you’ve seen his handiwork, I’ll open his mouth.” The M.E. picked up a pair of surgical scissors and cut the nylon suture.

When the nylon was cut, the M.E. used her hands to open his mouth. As she did so, the four saw an orange bag folded up in his mouth.

“What’s that?” Y/N asked as she peered at the object closer.

As the M.E. opened the folded bag, they saw the note written inside.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side’,” Derek read aloud.

“That’s not much of a taunt.” JJ’s face contorted as she thought about the note.

“Maybe it’s not for us?” Y/N posed as she looked at the two agents.

“Then who?” Derek asked.

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

“He literally put words in the guard’s mouth,” Y/N said as her, Derek, and JJ walked into the conference room of the U.S. marshall’s precinct.

When they walked in, it looked like Spencer and Rossi had also just arrived and been telling Blake and Hotch of their findings.

“That’s new,” Rossi stated.

“Well, we think this is what we were missing, the words give him the pleasure the beatings used to bring,” JJ relayed what they discussed on the car ride there.

“Maybe we had this wrong, what if the ritual is sewing the mouths shut?” Spencer posed, which everyone gave him slightly confused glances as a response.

“His signature used to be the beatings, but now it’s putting words in their mouths,” Spencer clarified what he meant.

“Yeah, just when you think a signature doesn’t get more solid than that,” JJ said, agreeing with Spencer.

“What did he write?” Blake asked Derek, who was holding the note in the bag.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side’,” Derek read the note again. He held it up to show it to the group.

Blake gave a confused face as she tried to think if she had heard the words before.

“It’s not an anagram,” Blake deciphered. “Is it a phrase in anything you’ve read so far?” She looked at Spencer who had a pile of notepads in front of him.

“No, it’s not a well-known literary reference either,” Spencer answered.

“Well, the words mean something to him, otherwise he wouldn’t share it,” Blake said as she pointed down to a notepad she was holding.

“It’s gonna get dark soon, he’ll be on the move.” Hotch’s statement was more of a spoken thought.

“You want us on the roads with the marshals?” Derek asked Hotch.

“No, I think we should concentrate on remote locations,” Hotch answered. “He’s not just escaping detection, he’s a recluse. He’ll be attracted to isolated locations.”

As the day went into the night, the team had sent out marshals to cover some areas they thought the unsub could be based on a geo-profile Spencer and Y/N made. They got an unfortunate hit at a local, isolated gas station. The owner had been killed with his mouth sewn shut.

Spencer, Y/N, and Blake stayed back at the precinct to help develop more of the profile and hopefully decipher more of the note.

“Blake,” Blake said as she answered her phone.

Y/N and Spencer could hear the faint voice of Derek on the other side.

“Did you get another note?” Blake asked. Derek responded with a ‘yep’ then Blake asked, “Can I put you on speaker?”

Assuming he said yes, she pulled the phone away from her ear and pressed the speaker button.

“ ‘Waiting on the taste of honey...the smell of summer,” Derek read.

Y/N thought for a second, then looked between Spencer and Blake hoping they knew what it meant.

“ ‘And the sight of the other side’, three of the senses,” Blake said as she pieced the notes together.

“Then we’re only missing sound and touch now,” Y/N said as she could now understand more of what the unsub was doing.

“This guy’s like Jekyll and Hyde writes a decent thought and then sews it in the mouth,” Derek said with slight irritation in his voice.

“Whatever he is, he’s romanticizing the hell out of this, thank Morgan,” Blake said, hovering her finger over the red hangup command.

“Sure,” he responded then Blake hung up.

“ ‘Gazing through to the other side, waiting on the taste of honey, the smell of summer.’ Do you think he’s telling us about a place?” Spencer asked as he said the whole quote.

“That’s what it sounds like,” Y/N responded.

“But…” Blake said and glanced back at the board and then walked to it. “Where?” She drew out the word with a sigh as she looked at a map.

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

“We can’t tell you exactly where this unsub’s going or what he’s thinking, but his actions will betray his intentions,” Hotch said as they began this odd profile.

“And how’s that?” Tilghman, the captain of the marshals, asked.

“Earlier tonight at the gas station, he could have stolen money, but the register wasn’t empty. That tells us he’s not planning a long road trip,” Hotch answered.

“And yet he’s logical enough to be in survival mode,” Y/N added.

“So logic tells him to escape, I get that,” Tilghman said then continued to ask a question. “But what the hell makes him sew mouths shut?”

“It’s a compulsion over which he has no control,” Hotch replied.

“So how do we stop him?” Tilghman asked.

“Well, truth shows itself through actions,” Derek began. “What’s this guy’s truth? He feels silenced. Agent Hotchner has a theory that he had a speech impediment that made him embarrassed to talk. He may have been relentlessly teased because of it.”

“His prior victims tell us a woman, likely a mother figure is to blame,” JJ said.

“Chances are she was abusive and convinced him that whatever words he had were worthless,” Y/N continued.

“This guy hasn’t spoken a word in eight years, could he have been mute?” Tilghman asked.

“Definitely not,” Blake answered.

“You sound pretty damn sure,” Tilghman challenged.

“He refers to IPA in a few of his personal writings,” Blake responded.

“What’s IPA?”

“International Phonetic Alphabet. It represents only those qualities of speech that are in spoken language,” Blake answered.

“It’s proof that he’s able to hear, which means most likely he can talk but chooses not to,” Y/N said as she could add onto Blake’s thought.

“Then what’s he using it for?” Tilghman continued his questions.

“He uses multiple languages to communicate. IPA is an interesting choice, I’ve found that those who understand something as detailed as that are also proficient in sign language,” Blake concluded.

“So these words that he’s leaving in these mouths are directly taunting us?” Tilghman asked what Y/N hoped was his final question.

“Those messages--”

“Have not been analyzed yet,” Blake interjected Y/N with a lie.

Y/N looked at her confused why she would do that then to Derek who had tapped her leg and gave her a confused look. Y/N simply shrugged at Derek answering his glance.

“You know, not to change the subject,” Spencer said, clearly changing the subject, hoping no awkward tension would come from the interjection. “But he’s incredibly well-read, which tells us that he grew up in isolation with literature being his only escape. His own writings are not as profound and despite his reading comprehension, we don’t think he’s had an extended education.”

“Everything about his psychosis says the spoken word has value, it also greatly angers him,” Rossi said.

“And if he was yelled at or made to feel stupid, he held onto his anger until he snapped,” Hotch added.

“So why hasn’t he fled the area?” Tilghman asked. “He knows there’s a manhunt going down, wouldn’t he want to get as far away as possible?”

“Well, he could be on a mission. We just don’t know if that mission includes a person or a place, but we do know his target is close to here,” JJ answered both of Tilghman’s questions.

“Thank you,” Hotch said, dismissing everyone.

When they stood up to leave the room, Derek tapped Y/N to get her attention.

“You want to talk to her about that?” He asked, referring to Blake cutting her off.

“Want to join me?” She responded which Derek nodded to.

“Hey, Blake,” Y/N said, making the dark-haired woman turn to her. She really didn’t want to piss this woman off, but she needed to know why she dismissed that part of the profile.

“Wouldn’t you say that those messages are related to the profile?” Y/N asked, wringing her hands together nervously.

“To a degree, yes,” Balke answered.

“A degree?” Derek questioned her response. “He basically signed his name to the murders.”

“He’s never left words before, that’s a significant change of behavior,” Y/N added onto Derek’s statement.

“But you completely dismissed it,” Derek finished. Those are the words Y/N was afraid would piss off Blake.

“Because the Marshals have their own agenda,” Blake said in a whisper. “And will believe it’s a taunt no matter what we tell them. We don’t need to give them any more fuel.”

Blake was right, Y/N and Derek knew that, but she should have brought that up with them before delivering the profile.

“If the unsub needs to get his thoughts out, it’s like he’s reminding us of something, and until we know what that something is I’m not comfortable speculating in front of them,” Blake finished expressing how she felt about it.

“Well, how about the rest of us?” Y/N asked. The question came off as defensive and that was not her intent.

“Dr. Reid and I are coming up with theories-” she shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly- “you two are welcomed to join us.”

Derek looked at Y/N. She was pressing her thumb across the top of each of her fingers, pushing hard as a way to express her anger.

When Blake had walked away after Derek had given her a response to do so, Y/N let out a breath.

“Do you think she’s intentionally trying to make us feel inferior?” Y/N whispered to Derek, who let out an agitated sigh.

“Come on, let’s at least join her and boy wonder to give her a chance.”

-----------

The next morning, Y/N, Hotch, and Blake rolled up to the sight of the crime scene. The morning was cloudy and almost seemed dull. Appropriate for the circumstance of the child in his carrier left under a tree.

“Marshal, where are the parents?” Hotch asked Marshal Tilghman as they got closer.

“Father’s in the stall dead, no sign of the mother,” Tilghman responded. “He stole the victims I.D.’s so I have no idea who he is, or what kind of vehicle we’re looking for.”

“Was there another message?” Blake asked.

“They're checking right now.” Blake nodded and walked to the shed where the body was.

Y/N squatted down in front of the baby in the carrier. He was sleeping peacefully, a blanket laid carefully on top of him, his pacifier on top of the blanket, and his bottle beside it. That was odd because this baby was only a few months old.

“This baby is only a few months old, he’s too young to hold the bottle himself.” Y/N gestured to the bottle.

“Maybe the father fed him,” Tilghman said.

“You wouldn’t take the baby out of the safety of your car in the middle of the night.” Y/N shook her head at the thought of the unsub touching this poor little guy. A sudden motherly feeling overtook her and all she wanted to do was hold this baby.

“Then you’re telling me this guy killed a man then came out here for the baby?” Tilghman was confused by the theory.

“That’s exactly what he did,” Hotch answered solemnly. “He stayed with him while he slept and then gave him his pacifier.”

“Well then, maybe he’s not that far away,” Tilghman said then walked away.

As he walked away, Blake walked over and replaced the spot he vacated.

“There were no words left in the mouth this time,” Blake said as she got close to Hotch.

“I think caring for the baby is his message,” Hotch said as he looked down at the child.

“Then he must relate to the child,” Blake concluded.

“Maybe he’s obsessed with nature he didn’t get,” Y/N said. Her focus never left the baby though, she was too worried about him waking up and crying for it to be diverted away.

“Or simply wanted him to be quiet,” Blake added.

“He’s telling us he has boundaries?” Hotch wondered.

“He’s too unstable for that, I’d say he’s lucky,” Blake said as she gave a tight-lipped smile to the baby.

Y/N then looked to the side of the carrier, her hand reached under the blanket to move it off the ground. When she did so, an orange biohazard bag revealed. She picked it up and stood up from her squatted position to show Blake and Hotch her findings.

When they saw what she had, she opened the bag to see what was inside.

“Scissors...suture kits...medical tape.” She listed off the items she saw in the bag to them.

“What’s he trying to tell us? That he’s finished killing?” Blake asked.

“He left his tools behind. That usually means you’re gonna call it quits,” Y/N said as she agreed with Blake’s question.

“He didn’t leave the stolen gun,” Hotch reminded them of the item. “He’s not giving up.”

With that, the three finished up at the crime scene and headed back to the precinct to rethink what his next move will be.

“Okay,” JJ began with a sigh. “So he leaves words until today, maybe he’s closer to what he’s looking for?”

“He could have already found it,” Derek said, answering JJ’s questioned theory. “If he feels satisfied, he may disappear.”

“Mm, we’re too close to let that happen,” Blake said with her hands pressed against one another in front of her face.

“All right, then we go back to the first kills; three women, late forties, all working class. Mothers, brunettes, beaten and left in a ditch. That was his message, he hated them,” Hotch said trying to give a new train of thought for everyone.

“Maybe he’s not targeting women anymore because he already killed the person he blames,” Y/N proposed. She had been looking down at her journal in her lap, when she looked up, she was met with Spencer’s gaze.

She blushed, even after a year of dating, his gazes of adoration still give her butterflies.

“Most likely his mother,” Blake said, agreeing with Y/N.

“We should have Garcia run all the victims’ names again,” Hotch said, pulling over the conference phone, dialing Penelope’s number.

“At your service,” Penelope said, answering the phone after one ring.

“Pull up the ‘04 victims,” Hotch ordered.

“Done.”

“All right, we need a list of their children,” Hotch continued his orders.

“Okay, next of kin, state welfare, give me a sec…” Penelope’s voice trailed off as she searched then a ping was heard. “Gotcha! Okay, some were put into foster care after their moms died, runaways, truancy, not good.”

“Any incarcerated?” Hotch asked.

“A handful, do you have any more parameters?” Penelope asked in hopes of getting a hit.

“Uh, not yet, just send us the list,” Hotch answered.

“Comin’ at ya now.” Penelope hung up.

“All right, let’s start with the first victim.” Hotch pulled the list up on his phone.

“Julie Myres.” JJ pointed with her pencil to the victim on the board.

“Three boys- Mark, Greg, and John, born ‘70, ‘72, ‘74, history of truancy. Child services lost track of them.” Hotch read from the list, only hitting the highlights and not going into the full detail.

“Is there any family history of cajun French?” Blake asked.

“Yeah, Julie Myres was born in New Orleans,” Hotch answered as he read the bio of the victim.

“Could Explain his interest in the language,” Y/N posed with a shrug.

“Let’s jump ahead to his most recent behavior-” Derek grabbed a bag with the evidence Y/N found by the baby- “He leaves all of this behind. Is it his version of surrender?”

“What’s the medical tape for?” Rossi nodded to the tape in the bag. “He didn’t use it on any of the victims.”

“Yet it was important enough for him to steal from the ambulance,” Derek said as he gestured to the item in the bag.

“Maybe he’s using it on himself.” Y/N leaned forward on the table. “We said he may have some kinda nerve damage, if that’s the case, his eye won’t shut by itself.”

“So he would have to tape it down,” Derek said agreeing with Y/N’s statement.

“It’s his left eye, the same where the recent scars are,” Hotch added.

“Under his ear,” JJ said, remembering the scar in the picture. “What if he was trying to stop from hearing.”

“That’s pretty severe, taking a knife to your own head,” Rossi said, not sure if that would be the case.

“He may have had an implant, the electronic pulses enhance natural sound. If all he wants is peace, an implant is like having a speaker that goes to eleven,” Blake said.

With this new theory in play, Hotch hit the redial button to call Penelope back.

“That was fast,” Penelope said when she answered.

“Do any of the children have a cochlear implant?” Hotch asked, hopeful for a yes.

“Uh, 1988, John Myers,” Penelope responded after a small pause for her searching.

“He was fourteen at the time,” Hotch said looking at his birthdate.

“Yeah, his mom was paid six hundred and fifty bucks for the medical trial,” Penelope said as she did some more digging.

“Was he deaf before that?” Y/N asked leaning closer to the phone.

“Had to be in order to participate,” Penelope answered. Her fingers typing on the keys could be heard through the call as she pulled up more of the trial. “Yikes, it was a highly experimental procedure. It was rested on humans, not animals-”

Everyone’s eyebrows shot up in shock at her words.

“Caused quite the controversy.”

“So mom gives him the gift of hearing and it turns out to be a curse,” Rossi said as he came to a conclusion for a motive.

“Spent his first fourteen years in silence, gets lost in the world through books, learns languages-- anything to escape,” Spencer said.

“He’s content, and then his mom gets paid to use him as a guinea pig and now he can’t turn the noise off,” Blake said as she thought more into his motive.

“He blamed her and he wanted her to suffer,” JJ said, agreeing with Blake.

The team kept working, pulling different theories and piecing together scenes.

Y/N tried to focus, but she was having a hard time. Spencer was focused with Blake on trying to decipher the two notes, and she really couldn’t follow what they were saying. All she could think about was that poor baby.

“Hotch, I’m going to get some air.” Y/N stood up from her chair.

Hotch nodded his head, and the rest of the team watched as Y/N swiftly walked out of the room and out the doors.

When the air hit her, she felt capable of breathing again. She laced her fingers together and placed them on top of her head. The sun was warm on her face and she felt like her head was clear for the first time in hours.

Her arms fell down to her sides when she heard the front door open. She expected it to be Spencer, but she was surprised when she was met with Blake.

“You okay?” She asked sincerely.

Y/N took a breath in through her nose, no tears came from her eyes, but the breath was shaky like she was crying.

Running her hands down her face, she let out the breath she took in. “Yeah, yeah, I’m good.” She looked at her with a tight-lipped smile.

An awkward silence fell between the two as Y/N was still trying to compose herself and Blake was trying to from her words.

“I wanted to apologize for last night. I should’ve talked to the team about the whole note thing before we delivered the profile,” Blake said with an apologetic tone.

“I understand.” Y/N really didn’t want to get into the fact that Blake made her feel inferior, so she opted to just let it go.

With a grateful smile, Blake gave a simple nod and opened the door for Y/N. She smiled and walked in to head back to the conference room.

----------

Y/N stood in front of a whiteboard. The two phases of the notes he left written out on it. Her eyes darted between the words and the pictures of the victims, not even knowing where to start to figure out where the words could take them.

“If they aren’t his words then who’s are they?” Derek asked as he walked away from the board to sit down. He was annoyed that they couldn’t figure out what they were.

“We need to find out who his neighbors were in prison,” Blake said as she thought of where they could start.

“He spent more time in solitary then he did in his own cell,” Rossi stated, not knowing if what Blake was asking for would help.

“It’s total darkness but not complete silence, the inmates can speak through the walls,” JJ said.

“Let’s see which fellow inmate did time in solitary when he was there.” Rossi pulled out his phone then walked out of the room to make the call to the prison.

“I can’t really imagine an inmate thrown in solitary would be telling campfire stories to other inmates in solitary.” Y/N spoke in a monotone voice, her eyes still trained on the board.

“Some inmates get put in there for their own protection,” Derek reminded her.

“That’s true, we should start with those prisoners,” Hotch said, agreeing with Derek’s statement.

“Hold on,” Blake said, bringing the attention to her. “See how he wrote ‘Waiting on the taste of honey’, it’s got Southern U.S. roots, but more specifically it’s Texas south. A sub-dialect of southern English found in the north-central part of the state.”

She looked back down at the notes then saw another thing. “Right here-- you wait for something that hasn’t shown up, you wait on something that’s nearby.”

“The taste of honey would be close,” Spencer said as he understood what Blake was saying.

“Yes, and the storyteller is probably from north of here.”

“Fewer were thrown in the hole than you think,” Rossi said when he stepped back into the room, then set his phone down on the table. “Go ahead, Garcia.”

“Our unsub was the MVP of solitary. He was in there more than any other prisoner,” Penelope said as she relayed what she told Rossi to the rest of the team.

“All right, we’re looking for somebody who didn’t belong in jail. His offense would be minimal, he might even be in there for his own protection.”Hotch gave some parameters.

“Uh-huh, I got a few,” Penelope responded when she got a hit.

“Can you read off the hometowns?” Blake asked.

“Sure, Beaumont, Edinburgh, Sweetwater--”

“Sweetwater, who was that inmate?” Y/N asked as the name perked her ears. She turned away from the board and stood next to Blake.

“Danny Tucker looks like he was only in for two months,” Penelope answered.

“Well, that’s long enough to tell stories to John Myres,” Hotch said.

“Hey, his family owns property near where you are. It’s really secluded, too,” Penelope said as she found out that information.

“With local honey, by any chance?” Blake asked.

“They are known for it.”

“That’s where he’s going,” Y/N said looking at Blake next to her who nodded in agreement.

“Garcia, is it private property?” Hotch asked.

“It was, but it’s been sold. They’re building a housing development.”

“So it’s not the hideaway he’s hoping for,” Y/N said, looking to Hotch.

“Where would he go?” Blake asked.

“He might blame Danny for lying to him. Garcia-”

“Danny’s house is down the road from the development, I’m sending his address to your phones now.” Penelope beat Hotch to the punch.

“Dave, You, Reid, and Y/N go to the site, the rest of us will go to the house,” Hotch said, sending everyone off.

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

That evening, the team arrived back at Quantico. Sadly, John had ended up taking his own life, but Danny and his family were saved.

Rossi led the pack of Y/N, Spencer, JJ, and Blake through the office doors.

“Don’t tell me there's another one,” Rossi said as he was now face-to-face with Strauss who had been waiting for them.

“There’s always another one,” she replied.

“I told you we should’ve just gotten into our cars,” Rossi said as he regretted not doing so.

Y/N rested her head on Spencer’s arm. She really wanted to go home now, even after being stuck there for so long, she just wanted to go home and cuddle with Spencer.

“Where are we off to now?” JJ asked.

“Home,” Strauss responded. “You need to spend at least one night in your own beds.”

“Bless,” Y/N said, grabbing Spencer’s hand and leading him to the elevator.

“Don’t have to tell me twice,” Rossi said following close behind.

“Yeah, me too,” JJ said as she also followed.

When Y/N walked through her and Spencer’s apartment door, she let out a loud, exaggerated sigh of relief. She held both her arms out as she basked in the feeling of being home.

“I thought you said you were done with being stuck at home,” Spencer laughed as he set down his go-bag.

“I say some things that I don’t mean later.” Y/N set her go-bag down by the couch and walked into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed.

The nicely made bed, now looking a little disheveled from the impact, surrounded Y/N. The comfort it gave relieved her back pain from the lousy hotel bed she had slept in.

Spencer followed closely behind, and unlike her, carefully climbed next to her in the bed.

“You want to tell me about that meeting now?” Spencer asked, grabbing her hand and giving it a kiss.

“Ugh.” Y/N groaned as she scooted closer to Spencer. She kinda hoped he would forget about it, but that would literally be impossible for him. “She asked me if I wanted to move to the fugitive task force because Emily left.”

“And what did you say?”

“I said no, obviously.”

She had her head laying on his chest but then lifted it up to look at him. Her head rested in her hand that Spencer wasn’t holding, his thumb rubbing back and forth across her knuckles.

“She should know I wouldn’t want to move, I told her when I joined the BAU it was my dream,” Y/N said with her voice rising with irritation. “And it was super annoying, she acted like she was surprised that would be my answer. I don’t want to end up like how JJ did where she had to move to state by force. That was stupid. I just, she thinks she can have everything she wants-”

Spencer’s laughter cut her off.

“Why are you laughing?” She asked with furrowed brows.

“You’re overreacting, if you said no then nothing will happen, JJ’s case was special,” he told her with a reassuring look. “And also you’re just cute when you’re irritated,” he shrugged.

Her eyebrows raised in question. “Oh yeah?”

She let go of his hand and quickly reached for a pillow behind her head. She sat up on her knees and smacked him with the pillow.

“Am I cute now?” She giggled and waited for his reaction. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tackled her down to have him laying on top of her. That was enough of a distraction for him to grab his own pillow and smack her with it.

“Very.”

She sat up again and the two had a flat out pillow war. Not a fight, a war.

Eventually, Y/N ended up on top of Spencer, straddling his torso. Her hands grabbed his sides as she tickled him relentlessly.

“Okay, okay, I surrender!” He panted with laughter.

She stopped her assault and moved to lay on him.

“Yay,” she pecked his lips and moved off of him to cuddle into his side.

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30secondfics · 3 years

Text

EAT OR BE EATEN (A/U) 6 OF 6

~ Author’s Note ~ “Before the renaissance we had the Black Plague.”

- @thekingoflegoland

Rated M

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5a > Part 5b > Part 6

Seattle, January 2021

Gabriella Torres stepped out of her rideshare and studied the house she stood in front of. A small shingled house, hunter green, the grass browned from the cool weather and the paint of the white front door chipped from years of neglect. She knocked.

A woman with a black lacquered cane opened the door with widened eyes, pale, as if she had just seen a ghost.

“Hi, I’m looking for Calliope Torres-”

“She doesn’t live here.“

“My name is Gabriella Torres. Aria Torres is my mother—was—my mother.”

The woman sighed and eyed the young woman. “You're a spitting image of your mother. Come in.”

The sunroom of the house was clean, sterilized. It still smelled of cleaning products and polish; it was well tended to, unlike the exterior of the house.

“Can I get you a coffee or a tea?” the woman asked.

“Water, please, if you wouldn’t mind,” Gabriella answered. She took the glass the woman offered her and took a generous sip.

“What did you say your name was again?” the woman asked, taking the seat in front of her guest and leaning her cane against the side table.

“Gabriella.”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-two.”

The woman paused in thought.

“I’m sorry to come out of the blue, but I thought you would prefer meeting in person rather than starting a paper trail… Aunt Calliope.”

Calliope nodded in agreement and cleared her throat. “So how did you find me?”

“I just started grad school at the University of Washington, I’m doing my masters in library studies-”

“Impressive,” Callie nodded, glad and relieved to learn her niece was educated.

“Thank you. I was in foster care my whole life, you see, I knew nothing but my mother’s name. I swore to find her one day and I searched for her for years and years. Then, finally, I came across her obituary and I found out she lived in Miami… and, well, my research led me to you.”

“So you know who I am…” Callie cleared her throat and picked at the cotton of her pants.

“You’re Calliope Torres. You were the head of the Torres Crime family. You were responsible for the Miami Mob Massacre of 2013 when all of the heads of the city’s crime families were murdered.”

“Allegedly,” Callie corrected.

Gabriella nodded in agreement. “Early in 2014 the Feds gathered enough evidence to put you on trial-”

“Alex Karev and George O’Malley came forward and turned themselves in, in an attempt to put me away,” Callie informed. “Even after I paid them a very generous amount of money to leave town. It seemed that it wasn’t enough for two men who felt overpowered by a single woman.”

“You were on trial for 21 days,” Gabriella continued. “Until you were proven not guilty. After 21 days they were going to let you walk free, you were free—then you were showered with bullets on your way out of the Miami courthouse. A man named Robert Stark was arrested; he claimed you destroyed his life over unsettled debt.”

“And yet he’s still in jail and I am not,” Callie couldn’t help but smirk.

“My mother perished that day, and you were airlifted to Miami General with life-threatening injuries,” Gabriella added. “Some articles reported that you wouldn’t make it out alive, while others rumoured you would never fully recover. You were mentioned in the papers for months, until suddenly you weren’t. New leaders of the other crime families began to take their place, and new gang wars plagued Miami. By the time you walked out of the hospital a free woman, you were old news and the Torres empire had crumbled. You’ve been laying low ever since.”

Gabriella was nothing but correct in her explanation. The Torres empire crumbled, and it crumbled hard. In Callie’s absence, and Alex and George’s incarceration, other members of the corporation fought for themselves, fought amongst themselves, stole for themselves, until there was nothing left but a few skids of canned peaches scattered across the city. The Torres mansion was looted and then destroyed by opportunistic rival families. The Torres name became irrelevant. A name no longer feared. A name no longer remembered, despite the damage it did in the past decades. Bigger crimes flooded Miami, and though grudges still existed, seeking revenge against the Torres family was no longer a priority.

Callie remained silent. It had been years since she lived that life, it was hard to believe its vibrant contrast to the life she lived now.

“Sorry,” Gabriella brushed. “I was just searching for my mother, I didn’t mean to uncover so much more about you.”

“You’ve done nothing wrong,” Callie reassured. “That was my past, and I will take what I did to my grave.”

Gabriella remained silent.

“So what do you want to know about your mother?” Callie asked.

Gabriella released a sigh with both grief and relief. Grief of the loss she had held in her heart for so long, and relief that she was finally going to get some answers.

“I want to know why my mother left me at the hospital that day, knowing she had the means to raise me.”

“I can’t answer for the dead,” Callie shook her head.

“I know that, but you at least knew her…”

“And I know giving you up was probably the best decision she could have made for you.”

“What?” Gabriella asked with furrowed brows. She spent her life in poverty. She was alone. She moved from foster home to foster home. The closest thing she has to a family is an old college roommate.

“My sister Aria was… impulsive. Especially when it came to money. She and my father would always clash on her irresponsible spendings. I believe she had you the year she just about had it with our father and so she disappeared for a year to travel across the country in a van with some friends. She was in no state to raise a child, even if we had the money.”

“But I grew up poor, without a family-” Gabriella began to argue.

“Do you think a crime family would have been any better?”

“Maybe,” Gabriella shrugged.

“It cost us your mothers life,” Callie reminded. “It nearly cost me mine.”

Gabriella remained silent.

“A life of riches is far from a fairytale when it’s funded with bloodmoney.”

Gabriella avoided her aunt’s eyes.

“So if it’s money you want from me I no longer have much of it,” Callie admitted.

“I don’t need money,” Gabriella promised. “I just wanted answers.”

“I’m afraid I can’t answer anymore than that,” Callie replied. “I didn’t even know my sister had you until this morning.”

“Would you have stepped in if you knew back then?” Gabriella asked.

Callie paused in thought. “Probably not,” she answered honestly. She believed the mob was no place for a child.

They sat in silence for a moment. Then Callie glanced at the clock.

“Then I won’t take up much more of your time,” Gabriella promised and stood from her seat. “Thank you for your time.”

Callie simply nodded.

“Can I ask how you found out where I live?” Callie asked before the younger woman could leave.

Gabriella signed. “Seattle Grace held a Gala last week. I was sorting the newspaper section of the library when I saw your face. Your hair is much shorter now but I had studied the family so much I recognized you right away… it wasn’t hard after I ran a search for you in Seattle.”

“What newspaper published that article?” Callie needed to know: if her niece could recognize her, how many more people could.

“Seattle Local. Don’t worry, I’ve already shredded as many copies of the paper as I could find,” Gabriella reassured.

“Thank you,” Callie sighed in relief.

“Can I ask you one last question before I go?” Gabriella asked.

“You just did.”

“Do you think there are people out there who still want you dead?” Gabriella proceeded to ask.

“I know there is,” Callie nodded. “Dozens of them.”

“How do you bear it? How do you live in fear?”

“I don’t,” Callie answered confidently. “Knowing my life could end at any moment is what makes every day so worth living.”

000

There was one part of Gabriella’s story that was missing; one part of the Calliope Torres story that was very private and protected from the public eye. Down a long hallway, two feet and a cane dully tread across grey terrazzo floors. The door at the end of the hall held a plaque, yielded the Seattle Grace Hospital logo and the title Chief of Surgery. She opened the door.

Large windows letting in lights from the Seattle Skyline also enclosed the spacious and personalized office. The walls were decorated with various frames, some with photos, others with accomplishments and awards. One of which was the 2014 Carter Madison Grant and a photo of a small clinic in Mawali.

Arizona Robbins glanced up from her laptop and over reading glasses arched a single eyebrow.

“Sorry, I’m late,” Callie apologised.

Arizona smirked and motioned for her lover to come closer with finger.

Callie rounded the cherrywood desk and gave her wife a kiss.

“Hmm,” Arizona hummed with satisfaction.

“Missed you.” She said this every day.

“Missed you too,” Arizona replied with a smile. “How was your day?” she asked, pushing her chair back to make room for her wife.

“Well…” Callie leaned her cane against the desk and pushed the laptop back to sit on her wife’s desk, “I had a visitor at the house today.”

“A visitor?” Arizona repeated, intrigued. “We haven’t had a visitor in a very long time. Who was kind enough to send you a hitman this time?” she asked sarcastically.

“Not an assassin,” Callie informed with a small smirk. A very small part of her missed when an assassin or two would shake up their home. It had been so quiet the past few years since they moved to Seattle, Callie could almost say she was starting to get bored. She and Arizona had become so good at silently putting hitmen away; they made great fertiliser for the flowers in the back garden.

“Really?”

“Yeah, it turns out I have a niece. It looks like Aria forgot to mention she had a kid twenty-two years ago.”

“No way…”

“She looks just like her, Arizona, if she’s a con artist she sold it really well.”

“How’d she find you?”

“She saw a photo of me in a local paper, from the Gala.”

“Oh, Calliope… I didn’t know you’d be photographed.”

“It’s fine,” Callie shrugged. “I’m sort of glad she found me. It was nice talking about Aria again.”

“Are you going to keep in touch?”

“I didn’t want her to feel obligated to keep in contact. She’s a smart girl, she’ll come back if she wants to.”

Arizona gave her wife a sympathetic smile.

“Anyways, tell me about your day…” Callie encouraged her wife.

“I think I’d rather save the talking for later,” Arizona said with a smirk.

“Oh…” Callie chuckled and moaned when her wife pressed their lips together. Arizona’s hands were on her waist and they slowly made their way up her shirt as they kissed.

“You called for me, Doctor Robbins?” Callie teased, between kisses.

“I did, and you’re late,” Arizona played along. She loved her wife for a hundred million reasons, and one of them included how ungodly good she was at getting her off.

“I’m awfully sorry,” Callie apologised in her bedroom voice.

“Y-you’d better be,” Arizona gasped when her wife’s mouth wrapped around the skin on her neck and began to suck. “D-don’t leave a mark…” she scolded, “again.”

Callie smirked and slipped her hand into the white lab coat and down the navy blue scrub top. She cupped her wife’s breast; soft, warm, and a bit more plump than she remembered.

Arizona felt wetness begin to grow between her legs. Slick. Heat. Then a gush of fluid like the breaking of a damn.

“Callie!” Arizona shrieked.

“Arizona...” Callie gasped when she felt the wetness run down her leg, “was that?”

“I think my water just broke,” Arizona said with widened eyes.

“It’s a good thing we’re already at a hospital,” Callie chuckled and took her wife by the hand before leading her towards the maternity ward to have their baby.

Callie and Arizona rushed down the aisle, hand-in-hand, away from the altar where Elvis stood to officiate. With no family left between the two of them, they spent their wedding night celebrating their rather spontaneous wedding with a rather expensive bottle of wine and room service.

Overlooking the city of Las Vegas, a city also once ruled by crime families such as the Torres’s, Callie held Arizona in her arms as they watched the night lights.

“I never pictured myself getting married,” Arizona admitted softly.

“You’re telling me this now?” Callie arched her eyebrow, taking hold of Arizona’s hand that was now weighed down by a wedding band.

“No, Calliope, I mean… I never pictured myself getting married in the white dress and large crowd. But this… this was perfect.”

“Oh…” Callie smiled mischievously and planted a hot kiss on her wife’s neck.

“Callie!” Arizona squinted her eyes and stopped walking.

“Breathe…” Callie coached.

“I am breathing,” Arizona gritted through her teeth, freezing for a couple of minutes before gathering up the strength to walk again.

“We’re almost there,” Callie reassured.

Arizona puffed air out of her cheeks and followed her wife’s lead. Moments later, she found herself on a hospital bed, monitors attached to her belly and her wife by her side.

“Push,” Arizona encouraged.

Callie let out a long grunt as she pushed against the resistance band that Arizona was holding behind her. She took three bullets in her arm, two in the gut, and one in her femur which left her with a permanent limp. She had accepted her fate of the cane, but she had yet to give up on rehabilitating her dominant hand.

“Good,” the physiotherapist praised. “You’re really motivated today!”

“Motivated to use my good hand in bed again,” Callie pushed against the purple band again.

“Callie!” Arizona gasped, not impressed with her lover’s vulgarness in front of the physiotherapist.

The therapist couldn’t help but chuckle, “It’s good to have goals.”

“Let’s see how your baby is doing…” Doctor Carina DeLuca snapped on a clean glove and placed herself between the patient’s legs. “Oh…”

“What?” Callie and Arizona said in unison.

“When did you say your contractions began?” Carina asked.

“I guess, this morning…” Arizona thought out loud.

“This morning?” Callie repeated with disbelief. Her wife had been in labour all day and she didn’t receive a single text of mention.

“I thought it was just a stomach ache from all the poundcake I ate for breakfast.” Arizona admitted.

“Did you eat the whole coffee cart too?” Callie teased.

“I only had three...” Arizona defended, “this time.”

“Move to Seattle with me,” Arizona said, her head nestled on her wife’s chest. Las Vegas streets were loud but she could still hear Callie’s pounding heartbeat.

“Seattle?”

“They’ve offered me a job as an attending… if I accept it, we can have our own life there. Just you and me, far away from the craziness in Miami. You don’t belong there anymore, we don’t belong there anymore. We both need a new start, somewhere we can raise a family.”

“You want kids?” Callie asked, surprised. With all the commotion, they forgot to talk about having children.

“I want a family, whatever that may look like. I’ve never had one and I want one with you.”

“You can start pushing on your next contraction,” Doctor DeLuca instructed.

“Callie, I’m scared,” Arizona told her wife.

“You’ve made it this far, Arizona, I believe in you.”

“What if we lose this baby too?”

“We can’t think like that right now, Arizona, you need to focus on having this baby, okay?”

Arizona nodded her head and grunted as she pushed as hard as she could.

The house was so quiet.

With Lucy’s passing, there was no longer pitter patter of paws against the hardwood as she played around the house. Now their house filled with the noise of Arizona turning the page of her newspaper, and Callie watching car review videos on her phone.

“You think it’s too soon to get another dog?” Arizona asked.

“I don’t know if I want another dog,” Callie admitted.

“Can I finally have my chicken coop, then?”

“No…” Callie slowly shook her head.

“Well, we’re certainly not getting a ferret, Calliope-”

“I’ve been thinking… it’s a good time to have a baby.”

Arizona’s face brightened into a smile. “A baby?” she breathed out.

Callie nodded, “A baby.”

“Your baby is almost here…” Carina announced.

“Really?” Arizona phanted.

“Do you want the mirror?”

“Oh god, no,” Arizona shook her head in denial.

Callie couldn’t help but laugh.

“Don’t you dare laugh,” Arizona scolded her wife. “You owe me a new vagina after this!”

“I’m sorry…” the doctor repeated herself. “Please stay and use the room for as long as you need to.”

“Thank you,” Arizona nodded at the doctor and continued to console her wife.

Callie watched the doctor leave with blank eyes. The news hurt her more than she thought it would. She didn’t even know she wanted kids until she married Arizona, and now that she found out she couldn’t, she was heartbroken. Her life of crime, the bullets of revenge, had already taken her sister from her; she was saddened to learn it also took away her chance of having children of her own.

“What do you need from me?” Arizona said softly.

“I don’t know,” Callie shook her head.

“I’ll have them, Calliope, I want to have them,” Arizona offered for the hundredth time.

“I…” Callie gulped to rid of the dryness in her throat, “I thought we could have some of yours and some of mine too.”

“Oh, Calliope…” Arizona sighed in defeat. “It would have been amazing to have a little you running around the house, but I promise you they will be our babies no matter what.”

“She’s here…” Carina announced.

“It’s a girl?” Callie asked with surprise, relief and excited butterflies fluttering in her stomach.

“It’s a girl,” Carina confirmed.

Callie and Arizona smiled at the crying infant. Carina placed the child on Arizona’s chest and Callie wrapped her arms around her family. She was so little yet so loud, and mighty. Her hands were bronze like a Torres and her eyes were blue like a Robbins. She was there and she was theirs.

“I love you…”

“What?” Callie said past dry lips. She thought she would never see Arizona Robbins again, let alone have her visit her hospital room every day for the past three months.

“I love you,” Arizona nodded her head. She had known, deep down, for a long time. But she was at the airport, ready to leave for Africa, ready to truly move on from her tango with the mob and start a new life, a new clinic, for children in a new land, Malawi, when she saw the Torres heir fall to the ground in front of the courthouse. She hated that she had to see Calliope Torres get shot multiple times on television to realise it. She loved the notorious boss and she couldn’t leave Miami without her.

“Arizona, you can’t-”

“You’re not my boss, Calliope, you can’t tell me what I can and can’t do anymore-”

“No, Arizona, you need someone... normal,” Callie defended her stance. “Someone who can give you the easy life you deserve. Someone who doesn’t have a past-”

“I know your past, Calliope, and I know the kind of woman you are deep down. Do you think it was easy to let someone else run my clinic in Africa, to turn down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity so I can spend three months in this hospital with you? I know love isn’t easy, but I choose it because—because life without it is dull and cold.”

Callie eyed her lover.

“I know there are people who want you dead...” Arizona continued, “that danger will follow you, but—why live in fear when we can take our chances at being happy?”

“Jeez, okay, enough with the dramatics,” Callie teased.

Arizona gasped, offended, then laughed. Her speech was quite cheesy.

“I love you too. I’ve known for a while,” Callie admitted. “But I want what’s best for you. That’s why I let you go...”

“And I know what I want,” Arizona countered. “That’s why I came back...”

Callie cradled baby Sofia as Arizona finally fell asleep in her hospital bed. Sofia had that intoxicating new baby smell and Callie soaked in every minute of it. Swaddled in her hospital blanket, Sofia was content and happy to be in her mother’s arms.

Callie glanced at Arizona and watched her peacefully rest. She deserves it. Arizona let out a soft snore and it made Callie smile. Her mob career started in her father’s hospital room. Her love for Arizona blossomed in her hospital room. Now their middle family had grown by one in the hospital room.

Callie Torres was working in a cubicle, in an office, on a floor, in a building full of cubicles. She was the daughter of a notorious crime boss and she was in an office working a nine-to-five desk job. Despite her upbringing, she went to college. She attended Penn State, the first in her family to go to college. She told herself that she needed space from the mob, but deep down she knew she left home because she resented her father for not being a good husband to her mother. Over a decade later, she still blamed him for making Lucia Torres flee. So Callie moved away, to a city where nobody knew her name, and for four years she studied literature, made an honest living, and lived a modest lifestyle. She was set. She had financial independence from her father and no ties to the life he lived.

Until a single phone call changed her projection. She came back to Miami after years of avoiding the city and the chaos within it. Giovanni sent one of the drivers to pick her up at the airport and she felt helpless in the backseat of the Cadillac. She hated it: the feeling of being the young woman with no independence, thanks to the nature of the family business. There was a reason why she moved out: to be able to do things on her own.

The short car ride felt like hours, but soon she was at Miami General: pushing through a crowd of news reporters hoping to get information and FBI agents hoping to find dirt that will finally warrant the arrest of the biggest mob boss in the city. The FBI were always around—ever since Carlos himself was a child—but they could never find enough evidence to take the family court. Thus, they tried to get close whenever they could. It disgusted Callie. Her father was ill and all people cared about was exposing him.

She ran to his bedside the moment she squeezed past the door and took his hand into her own.

“Calliope…” he coughed up.

“I’m here, papa.” Callie soothed, combing what was left of his hair with her fingers.

“You came home,” Carlos smiled.

“Of course I did. You take it easy, okay?”

Carlos closed his eyes and nodded his head. He was weak, and he drifted off to sleep shortly.

“Miss Torres?” a soft knock came from the door. “I’m Dr. Teddy Altman, your father’s surgeon.”

Callie turned around and stood to politely shake the woman’s hand. “Call me Callie,” she insisted. “Can you tell me what happened? ”

“Callie…” Teddy sighed, “From the looks of things, your father has had heart failure for years.”

“He’s never mentioned it...” Callie insecurely crossed her arms, “Is he going to make it?”

“He’s responding to the ‘tropes, the medications we’re giving him, but that’s all I can say for now.”

“Is he going to make it?” Callie repeated.

“It’s hard to say…” Teddy trailed off, “But I can tell you that we’re doing everything we can.”

“Is he going to be treated just like everyone else?” Callie asked. She knew the doctor wasn’t oblivious to who she was taking care of. A high-profile man like Carlos Torres drew attention wherever he went.

“We provide treatment solely based on the patient’s clinical needs...” Teddy promised, “without moral discrimination.”

She stayed by her father’s side—only going home to get cleaned up and sleep. When she wasn’t tending to him, she was making sure his casinos were running smoothly. She became a frequent customer at the cafeteria, and even the girl at the coffee cart knew how she took her coffee. She didn’t know if it was love or guilt that made her stay by her father’s side. She felt guilty that she had deserted the family, all those years ago. And if she didn’t keep her head down that day, she would have ran into the blonde-haired blue-eyed surgical resident that stood in front of her while she waited for her coffee.

“How are the casinos?” Carlos asked one day, when he had the strength.

“Don’t worry about them,” Callie insisted, “I’ve made sure Alex and George stay on track; you just work on getting better.”

“You’re getting involved with our operations?”

“Yes, it’s fine, everything is fine.”

“You know, I always thought it would be you that I’d leave the casinos to…”

“I’m sorry I wasn’t cut-out to be a boss,” Callie hung her head in shame.

“Don’t say that, mija, I’m so proud of you,” Carlos admitted.

“You are?” Callie questioned softly.

“Always,” Carlos promised. “My smart, beautiful, girl.”

Callie wiped the tears that trickled down her cheeks and held onto her father’s hand.

Later that evening, Callie was leaving her father’s room to go home when she realized the watchman that usually guarded the door was not at his post. She grabbed her phone to call Giovanni and sighed in relief when he told her that he would fire the man for leaving his post and send over another member of his security team immediately.

In the meantime, Callie waited by her father. It was highly unlikely that any harm would come, but she still had an unsettling feeling in her gut—which amplified when she heard the door open, and she turned her head in time to see a grey-haired man.

“You must be his little girl,” he chuckled.

“What do you want?” Callie asked harshly.

“Well…” he shrugged his shoulders, his hands in his pockets. “I’m here to take him out. I don’t want to hurt anyone else, but now that you’re here... I don’t have much of a choice.”

Callie stood from her seat and took a step back. She was scared—initially— then anger sparked within her. Suddenly, she wanted to get him before he could get her or her father. She quickly weighed out her options. She was unarmed, and had been for years. She knew he had a gun, she could see the outline in his pants. She glanced around the room and in a matter of seconds she had a plan.

She grabbed the flower vase from the nightstand behind her and threw it across the room. Distraction. He lifted his hands to block the glass from hitting his face, and she rammed her right shoulder into his sternum, pinning him against the wall. Attack. The impact caused a couple of his ribs to break, and the noise of the vase shattering onto the floor caused the nurses to start peering into the window. He was able to strike her cheek with the gun, causing the skin to break, but she didn’t feel the pain. Her adrenaline was pumping through her veins and she wanted nothing more than to see him dead.

“Bitch,” he spat, trying to point the gun at her head, but bone-breaking strength pinned his body against the wall. The Torres heir was stronger than he thought.

Callie groaned and struck her elbow against his windpipe. Once. Twice. Three times. The sound of his cartilage breaking from impact. At this point, he was still alive, but the injury to his neck narrowed his trachea and he struggled to take the faintest breath of air. So Callie stepped back, letting him fall to the floor, and she kicked the gun out of his hand. She glanced back, her father was still asleep. She looked forward, the nurses had called security and they were waiting outside the door. She opened it, stepped outside, and a nurse walked to her side.

“You want me to look at that, Miss Torres?” the nurse asked.

“Look at what?” Callie mindlessly asked, still in shock from the events that took place moments ago.

“Your cheek is bleeding…”

Callie took a seat on a nearby chair, exhausted. She couldn’t believe it. She won her first fight.

“What should we do with him?” one of the security guards asked, wanting to be of assistance but also not wanting to get too involved with the mob.

“Leave him. Someone will be here to clean up shortly,” Callie sighed. It was only now that the blood from her cheek trickled down her neck that she realized she was bleeding. “I’m sorry for the noise…” she told the hospital staff, and the few patients that watched the scene unfold, “But nobody saw anything, right?”

All watching eyes turned away and went about minding their own business. Except the nurse who had offered to help, she had gone to get a dressing kit and returned to tend to Callie’s injury.

When Carlos Torres came to consciousness and learned of his daughter’s doings, that Callie was managing the casinos quite well and taking care of business in his absence, he knew what to do before his inevitable death. With her father’s ring on her finger, Callie Torres took her place behind the desk in the office she was forbidden to be in at her childhood home.

“I can’t believe she’s home…”

“I can’t believe she’s ours…”

Callie and Arizona cooed at the sleeping infant in the crib.

“We should go to bed and get some sleep while we can,” Arizona suggested. “She’ll be up wanting a feeding before we know it.”

“You go to sleep before she needs you. I’ll stay up a little longer, just in case she needs anything else...” Callie volunteered.

“We’re across the hall, Calliope, she’ll be okay on her own for an hour or two,” Arizona promised.

“I don’t mind,” Callie insisted.

“Come to bed with me, please?” Arizona pleaded.

“Arizona, I…”

“What is it, love?” Arizona asked, placing a soft hand on her wife’s arm.

“I think I’m scared…”

“She’s safe here,” Arizona promised.

“What if something bad were to happen to her, to us, to our family? I don’t want her out of my sight. I know you we’ve been safe here but you know my past-”

“I don’t think it has anything to do with your past, Calliope,” Arizona couldn’t help but smile. “That’s called being a mother. We’re going to worry about her for the next eighteen years, at least. We’ll have eighteen years to worry about her so please, can we go to bed for now?”

Callie sighed then nodded her head in agreement. Why live in fear when we can take a chance at being happy? She had chosen happiness these past few years, she took a vow to choose happiness with Arizona. Now she vowed this: if anyone laid a finger on her baby, she would hurt them before they could hurt Sofia.

FIN.

#multi #calzona #callie torres #arizona robbins #calzonafic #au #cougarsbait

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spookyrobbins · 3 years

Note

Okay, i can’t believe you managed to make a fucking bubblegum and x-ray hella sad. Kudos for that!

Now let’s do part 2 of the angst game with more random words.

1.) Moles/freckles

2.) Glasses

3.) Gauze-paws

4.) Polaroid

5.) Fending machine

6.) Ballpoint

7.) Softball

8.) Leather

9.) Clown

10.) Bailey

1.) Moles/freckles

callie was always fascinated with arizona's moles and freckles and used to trace them and count them and she honestly thought she could spend hours cataloging each one

there was one on her left knee that looked like the lyra constellation (a constellation that is partially based in the mythology of the muses) that was one of callie's particular favourites

i'll let you fill in the blanks :)

2.) Glasses

it started with glasses, oddly enough

arizona was in denial, but callie noticed; the colonel kept losing his glasses, he kept losing his glasses and he just seemed confused

arizona refused to even talk about it; he was the colonel, he was always fine

and then he asked how seattle was - arizona hadn't lived in seattle in three years

the next time they visited a few months later, he hesitated when he spoke to sofia, as if it took him a moment to place her

and still, arizona and barbara didn't want to see it bc he was fine most of the time, he had lived a hard life, he was getting older so a bit of confusion was normal and nothing callie said could change their minds

if callie could’ve done anything to stop the devastation that appeared in arizona’s face, she would’ve. but she could do nothing but watch as arizona’s face crumbled when her father turned to her after dinner one night and called her margaret, his beloved older sister, whom arizona did bear a striking resemblance

but maybe the worst moment came a few months after he was diagnosed, when arizona was speaking to him on the phone and he mentioned that he was going to give tim a call; arizona didn't know what to say but she didn't have the heart to tell him that tim was dead

and to think, it started with glasses

3.) Gauze-paws

arizona knew she shouldn't be jealous; they were just friends; mark was just helping his best friend bc she had chicken pox and she probably really wanted to scratch

it was stupid and childish to be jealous; after all, she was the one lying to her girlfriend - she totally had chickenpox, she and tim had it at the same time and spent a week on the couch, absolutely miserable, watching re-runs of MASH

but god if she didn't hate mark sloan just a bit, she just wished he wasn't around so much, like if he decided to leave seattle for a while or forever, arizona wouldn't exactly be mourning the loss

she really shouldn't have lied to callie, she just panicked and now mark sloan was cuddling with her girlfriend who looked unfairly cute with chicken pox and gauze paws

4.) Polaroid

callie loved taking pictures of arizona

arizona hated it when callie took photos of her, not because she was self-conscious, but because callie rarely told her she was doing it; arizona would just find polaroids of herself lying around (there had been a particularly dicey moment when cristina nearly found a more racy one if not for callie's quick thinking)

callie started to hate it too at some point; some point around when it seemed like arizona had disappeared in on herself, slipped into a deep, dark place and wasn't the arizona callie knew and all she had left of her arizona were the polaroids

callie couldn't remember the last time she felt so useless and pathetic as she flipped through old polaroids of arizona and a smile that callie hadn't seen in months; somehow it felt like she was looking at a ghost, even if arizona was only twenty feet away

5.) Fending machine

when she's wrapped up in planning a surgery, arizona frequently forgets to eat; for years, callie would remind her, just like arizona would make sure callie ate when she was working on her research

her favourite was this one kind of chocolate peanut butter granola bars that they only had in the cancer wing vending machines, which was on the clear opposite side from peds

it had been years since callie was around to take care of her and arizona had honestly forgot about the granola bars

but one day, she was down in the cancer wing for a patient and she happened to pass by the vending machines and it was so stupid it was a freaking granola bar, but she just felt alone? because nobody cared to make sure she was eating and bringing her the granola bars she liked and make sure that she wasn't so, so painfully alone all the time; but she had made her bed and now she had to lie in it, even if it felt like she couldn't breathe

6.) Ballpoint

arizona broke up with her and callie didn't want to be that girl who cried over stupid things just because they belonged to someone else

but then she found a ballpoint pen in the pocket of her labcoat and it was definitely arizona's; callie definitely didn't keep glitter pens in her lab coat and callie was just so angry because who did arizona think she was going around kissing her in elevators and smiling with her stupid dimples and yep, callie might be able to hate arizona just a little bit, she tossed the pen in the trash and steeled herself for having to go up to peds and maybe see arizona, honestly, her day couldn't get that much worse, not when it started with crying in her cereal

7.) Softball

arizona was cleaning out her junk closet when she found a picture of the hospital softball team, all goofy smiles and arms slung over shoulders and just happiness bled through the photo

as she traced over their faces with her finger, she desperately wished she could go back to that moment and warn them, tell them to hold onto this moment of happiness because henry would die a month later, teddy would leave and never return, mark and lexie would never get to be together, owen and cristina would fall to pieces, she and callie would tear each other apart, cristina would leave, derek would die and leave meredith broken with three small children; everything would change and very rarely for the better

8.) Leather

arizona locked herself in a supply closet, she knew she was being childish or jealous or insecure or whatever million words callie had thrown at her years ago, but god, it felt like her heart was being torn to shred for the hundredth time

but seeing penny wearing callie's leather jacket, the one that callie had been wearing all those years ago in that dirty bar bathroom, the one that arizona used to steal as a joke, the one that had always been arizona's favourite, it just felt like one more thing on top of everything else, just further proof that callie had moved on and arizona was just going to have to be okay with it

only she didn't know how to be okay anymore, she wasn't sure she could do that anymore, she'd just smile through the pain and it'd work because no one other than callie would know it wasn't a real smile, and even callie wouldn't notice because she didn't care anymore and arizona wished she didn't care. she wished she didn't automatically look for callie, didn't catch herself doing a million things that had become muscle memory because of callie

9.) Clown

"callie, what the fuck happened? why is sofia calling me in tears?"

"we took sofia to the circus and there were clowns and penny wanted to do something nice for sofia and she took her to get a balloon animal when I went to get food and she didn't know that sofia's afraid of clowns. that's all. it's fine, I'm dealing with it. you don't need to freak out about it."

"I don't need to freak out, seriously, callie? i think I'm perfectly entitled to freak out because my daughter called me in tears because you left her alone with your girlfriend who didn't know she is terrified of clowns. damn it, callie."

"it's fine."

"it's not. it's really, really not. sofia is terrified and I'm on the other side of the country and she is crying and she didn't feel like she could tell you because you'd be mad. it's really, really not fucking okay, callie."

10.) Bailey

bailey really thought out of everyone, callie and arizona would make it

they loved each other in such a special way; they loved each other even when they hated each other; they had special smiles and twinkling eyes; and bailey always grumbled about them but she sort of adored them in her own way

she wanted to shake them and tell them to hold on to each other

she wanted to yell at arizona to actually fight for something because she loved callie torres so damned much and you don't just give up on the love of your life, even if you think you're doing it for her happiness

she wanted to shake callie and tell her that arizona still loved her, but she was terrified because callie left and she was trying to protect callie and callie had to see that arizona watched her and waited for her and the way arizona's smile dimmed just a bit more each day

but she didn't and she would regret that as she sat in a courtroom watching a lawyer try to destroy arizona while callie did nothing

she would regret that when she saw a version of arizona robbins that was wholly unfamiliar to her when she came back from new york

she would regret that as she watched arizona finally try to move on with now that callie was really gone, but bailey could tell that her heart wasn't in it because her heart was in

she would regret that whenever she got a message from callie "just checking in"

but there wasn't much for her to do, so she would give tuck an extra hug because he was still here and she wouldn't have to give him up; and she'd tell ben how much she loved him because not everyone got to tell the love of their life they loved them

and she would say a silent prayer that callie and arizona someday find their way back together.

#this took ages and i love it #also the amount of feelings i have about the bubblegum and bubbles one #astronomical #i had a full breakdown on twt about it #ask games #angst game #no post on sundays #anon

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integrationslady · 3 years

Text

Lifelong Besties Part 2

I can’t believe I got so busy over the last few weeks that I 100% forgot I’d started a series... I’m sure all five people who actually pay attention to my posts have been on the edges of their seats waiting for more. So, we left off at the end of sixth grade. My best friend of six years and our other two best friends who’d just shown up that year had just decided I wasn’t cool enough for them anymore. The rest of that school year was pretty darn lonely, but luckily that did go down about two weeks before summer vacation.

At the beginning of sixth grade my family had moved across our pretty small town, but I hadn’t met or even really seen any kids in our new neighborhood. Since I was basically friendless at the beginning of the summer, I made an effort to find kids my age nearby and found that a block away lived three kids. The oldest was a girl a year older than me named Marita (that’s her on the right, me on the left).

There are a lot of things that kept me and Marita from ever being quite BEST friends, but we were pretty close through middle and high school and are still friends today. She lives in the mid-west now, but her mom and step-dad still live a block from my parents and she usually brings her kids over for spring break. We don’t always have time to get together, but we do usually try.

When middle school started in the fall, I ended up hanging out quite a bit with some girls I’d known for a while but never spent a lot of time with, and Marita came along with me. We formed a pretty nice little group, and looking back I think it was a group of people who felt like they didn’t have another group to be part of, maybe? But I mean, isn’t that how lots of friend groups start?

This picture was taken over Christmas break my first or second year of college (I’m not sure why Marita wasn’t there that night but we’ve already talked about her anyway) and I’ve heard a few of us still have it framed in their houses somewhere.

#1 is me. #2 is Laurel. Laurel was my absolute best friend through middle and high school. We did everything together, got mistaken for each other all the time, told each other literally everything, etc. etc.. We went to band camp together with #3 above

And honestly we are still really, really good friends. She lives in Seattle and I do try to get together with her any time I go over there.

(Yes, those are very small beers... it was a tasting... we’re classy AF)

And we’ve done some trips together as adults including Hollywood with #5 a few years ago (we’re planning a repeat of this one, or San Diego, later this year maybe)

But Laurel went to college in Tacoma and I went to the mid-west so we haven’t had a lot of chances to spend time together in the last 20 years. She also joined a sorority in college which allowed her to find a bunch of really close friends who you know, aren’t me and don’t know me and don’t really have much in common with me. We’re still close, we’re just not like CLOSE close.

#3 is Gretchen. She’s the one I mentioned in part 1.5 where we’d gone to see Jurassic Park in the theater for her birthday when it came out and then I randomly watched it on TV this year on her birthday. Gretchen grew up about a block away from me (before we moved across town) so I’d known her for most of my life, but we didn’t start hanging out until high school.

I don’t remember the last time I talked to Gretchen. I don’t know where she lives now or how many kids she has or what she’s doing with her life. This isn’t a me thing, like we never had a falling out or anything. Most of the people in these pictures are in the same boat. See Gretchen didn’t date at all until college, and basically the moment she met her first boyfriend, who’s now her husband (at least, the last I heard...) she basically said goodbye to everyone else in her life except her family. You’re probably seeing some red flags here, but I don’t think they’re warranted? I haven’t met him myself, but Laurel and Annie (#5) have and they say he seems great. It’s just that they’re both very, very introverted and prefer to use their energy on each other and their kids and family more than others. And they don’t use social media. From what I hear, if they had their way (and who knows, maybe they do) they’d live in the woods off the grid and basically see other people once a month at the grocery store. It hurt a little bit when she stopped making herself available to hang out with us, but idk I kinda get it now. When you find the person/people that don’t suck up your energy, you wanna put that energy there.

#4 is Jenessa, and I’m just gonna be frank and short here. Jenessa became very self absorbed in college and has lost a lot of friends as a result. She was a great friend when we were younger, I’ll always be grateful she was in my life and there are definitely times when things remind me of her and I think about trying to reconnect, but man talk about sucking up energy... I just can’t do it.

#5 is Annie. Annie is gonna get her own whole post and I don’t have time to write that now. But for now just know that we’re definitely still good friends.

For now I’ll leave you with some pictures;

A group of us who went to prom together

Me, Annie, and Marita (with an appearance by Annie’s dad) riding on Annie’s family’s tractor

And me, Annie, and Marita a few years ago when they were both in town at the same time

#friends #besties #lifelong besties #besties2 #chapter 2 #of lots #series

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amelink66world · 4 years

Text

Love of my Life

Heyy Guys!! This is my first time writing a fanfiction and I'm really nervous. But I'm so excited to share my version of AmeLink with y'all. I hope you like it. The story will solely revolve around AmeLink cause why not?! ;)

Many of the plot lines coincide with the show but I've changed some of them. The first chapter will be up by tomorrow so until then!!

Alternative Pain Relief

It was too much for Amelia to stay in Seattle. She had just lost Betty and came to know that Teddy was in fact pregnant with the father being none other than Owen. On top of that Owen said some pretty hurtful things at the lawyer's office when they went to sign Leo's adoption papers. She couldn't even comprehend that such a thing could come out of the mouth of the man who she considered to be the love of her life. There is some fundamental part of you that is incapable of love or being loved. It caused her too much heartache. She needed a change of pace for a few days.

So here she was in San Diego attending The Western States' Conference for Alternative Pain Relief. She could really use some pain relief right now and drugs were not an option! She wanted some change. She even cut her long brown tresses. Her hair was really short now, it ended just a few inches above her shoulders. She asked Bailey for a few days off, packed her bags and flew to San Diego as soon as she heard about the conference. She thought she kind of looked sexy in pant suit and earrings. She generally doesn't dress up but she she wanted to feel good today. Currently Amelia with a list of the sessions she was interested to attend was trying to find where the line to register her name was.

Amelia's PoV :

My God, there are so many sessions I can attend! Now which shall I attend first? The next generation NSAIDS panel sounds appealing. Now where is the registration line?! I never thought so many people attended these conferences. Finally giving up on my search I tap the shoulder of a tall, muscular man in a grey suit in hopes of asking where the freaking line was!

" Excuse me, is this the line...Heyy!!..", I trail off as soon as the person I asked turned and revealed his face. It was Link !! What is he doing here ?! My life is so damn awesome! The one person I was trying to avoid in the hospital apart from Owen is here !!

" Heeyy!! What are you doing here??", Link says while chuckling. There is shock evident on his face. Both of us didn't imagine running into each other here.

I forgot I had to speak. Recovering from my shock I scramble for words. " Uhhh..." I look here and there to say something and the banner of the conference comes into view. Finally finding my voice, I say pointing to the banner, " Like the banner says Western States' Conference for Alternative Pain Relief".

" I didn't know you were into this stuff", says Link.

" Yeah I'm not. I mean...I'm interested ever since that day of the mass overdose." Ughh why did I have to mention that day?! Stupid.

Link's expression changes to that of understanding.

"Yeah tough day" , he says with sadness.

" Yes. I cried at you...convulsively. You might recall?"

" I haven't seen you around much since then", Link says with creases on his forehead asking a silent question.

" Yeah that was intentional. It's hard to know where to go after that" He understands and chuckles. I can't help but chuckle along with him. Changing the subject I finally ask him why he is here." Anyway I'm newly into this stuff. How about you?"

"Uh I do like three of these a year. I'm giving um... a lecture." , he says sheepishly.

"WOW!!" I'm shocked. I can't help but stare at his face while he speaks. This is the first time I'm seeing him in something other than scrubs. I can say that he is definitely not hard on the eyes!! The fact that he gives a lecture on this stuff does not help either. I suddenly feel the same Pants Feelings I felt when I first saw him walking around the hospital with that funny looking robotics arm. " When is that?"

" Tomorow. But right now I was gonna hit up this acupuncture demo. Interested? " Again I catch myself staring. FOCUS!!

" Well I'm headed to this next generation NSAIDS panel. No. But you know what? I think I'd rather get poked." Wait. That sounded wrong. I hurriedly add, "...with needles." I catch a gleam in his eyes. I sigh, "Nevermind. I'm gonna keep avoiding you. Have a nice time". And I take off when I hear him laughing. Stupid stupid stupid. Why couldn't I just keep my mouth shut? I just had to make a fool of myself. Ughh. I look above silently asking God why didn't He give me a filter? I whisper " Oh my God "

I completely miss Link laughing and the playful look on his face after my ramble when he turned to look at my retreating form.

1 hour later :

Amelia is seriously thinking why she didn't just accompany Link. The NSAIDS panel was so damn boring. She is now headed to something called Sound Bathing.

A woman leads her to a dark room with numerous makeshift beds on the floor. There were numerous people on the beds. She saw a woman in a white dress sitting in front of what appeared to be a giant instrument. She occupied the bed closest to her. As soon as she turned her head to see the person next to her, she was left speechless again. There he was! In his perfect physique and perfect clothes lying right next to her !! ' Seems like the Gods are not in my favour today! ', she thought.

" Oh. Huh. Okay. Well hello again", she says with a nervous chuckle.

Link turned her way. He really seemed to enjoy her nervousness and asked her all the while chuckling, " You want me to move?"

" No! No of course not." Thank God. Link didn't want to move either. He was actually enjoying Amelia's company.

Link closed his eyes and laid back down. She couldn't help but ask after a few awkward seconds. " So what does this do? "

" The frequencies respond to the energy meridians and resonate..." She doesn't let him finish and interrupts him whilst chuckling nervously, " Oh okay. Energy meridians. Oh my God. " She lays back down. He lays down too but says, " You're not supposed to talk"

She laughs and says, " Yeah I'm not supposed to be here." She gets up halfway when suddenly the woman in the white dress starts playing the instrument. Amelia lays back down hearing the sound. It piques her interest. Link slightly smiles and stares at her face for a few seconds thanking God that she decided to stay. He really was liking her company!

After the Sound Bath :

Amelia finally is comfortable around Link.

" Can I walk you back to your room? ", Link asks hoping she'd say yes. He didn't want to say goodbye to her yet.

" Yeah why not", she says with a smile. Link just stares at her smiling face for a few seconds and nods. They reach her floor. All the while Amelia felt a bit wobbly on her feet. They were making small talk when she suddenly asks, " Did that make you dizzy? Like loopy?" Still wobbly on her feet.

Link looks at her antics and answers while shrugging, " No. It just kinda chilled me out."

With a hint of playfulness, Amelia says, " I feel like I need a meeting. Ooofff. Hey could we sit for a second Link?"

" Yeah. Yeah sure. Let me just find a place..." Link immediately begins searching for a chair or a place for her to sit and trails off when he suddenly finds her sitting right there on the floor with the wall supporting her. He just stands there for a second looking at her. After a few moments he joins her on the floor with the wall behind him supporting their backs. He waits for her to speak.

" Sorry I'm falling apart here."

" No need to apologize", he smiles.

She looks content. Even Amelia doesn't know what prompted her to open up to Link. Was it his warm eyes or welcoming smile or just his calm personality, she didn't know. She told him everything about Betty. How she was an addict and she took her in to help her. She got emotionally attached to her but then her parents came back and she had to say goodbye to her. She told him she missed her and worried about her still. All the while Link was patiently and attentively listening to her.

She thought Link is judging her when he said..." You sound like a...". She yet again interrupted him and completed his sentence for him with a silent question, " A mess? "

"No! A parent. " His answer shocked her and she turned her face to look at him properly. There was a level of softness in his eyes and a knowing and warm smile on his face while he was telling her about his mother worrying about him when he went to college just like Amelia is worrying about Betty.

They continue staring at each other. Amelia's gaze travels to his entire face. Link is observing her looking at him. Suddenly she says, " My God. You are just chiseled." This makes Link laugh loudly. She continues, " ...like a statue. It's like your chin has muscles." She leans slightly forward to stare at his chin properly. Link is chuckling and playfully says, " Well I do work out my chin pretty hard. It takes a whole day!" It makes her laugh.

Suddenly they feel like a spell has been cast on them and they can't look away from each other. They continue staring at each other and feel themselves inching closer. When their lips are just slightly away from each other, Amelia turns her head. Link is slightly disappointed that he didn't get to kiss her beautiful mouth. Amelia is a bit nervous and says with a soft smile on her face, " I should go to my room."

" And I should go..." Link trails off looking at her expectantly hoping Amelia would say what he wants her to say. Instead she says with a knowing smile on her face, "...to your room"

Link is disappointed but understands. They both get up from the floor. " You have a presentation tomorrow and I am not fit for human contact. " She hopes he would understand though she herself is not that happy with her decision but she knows it is the right one.

"See you in the morning?", he asks hopefully.

"Yeah. Goodnight.", she smiles.

" Night." He looks at her retreating form longingly for a few long moments. She turns and they share an eye contact briefly and they both turn heading their separate ways.

They keep running into each other both intentionally and unintentionally and engage in heavy flirting for the rest of the conference. They just can't help themselves as they are obviously very attracted to each other. Soon it is time for Link's speech. Her presence brings a smile to his face and stops for a second to admire her. When he continues with his speech, he knows many will be hurt with his course of treatment but continues anyway. Midway he finds Amelia leaving as she is obviously offended. He is highly disheartened as she didn't get to hear the good part before judging him.

He goes back to her room after his lecture in the hope of redeeming himself. He knocks on her door and moments later comes face to face with her. She is initially very rude to him and accused him of failing and costing a child his life. Link is hurt and tells her the rest of the story how he left medicine for a year and is now back and trying to do everything he can to fix the system.

"...maybe we can fight this thing together like Batman and...Batman." This seems to do the trick and her gaze finally softens. She smiles and takes a step towards him. " Okay "

" So you're not mad at me anymore? 'Cause it looked like you wanted go hit me for a second ", he says this sheepishly.

" I've got a bit of a hair trigger which can be scary." She smiles and apologizes for her behaviour. " I'm sorry. I've been in a weird place these days."

" I can roll with weird ", he flirts. He doesn't want to part with her yet and asks her out to dinner. He notices her eyes glazing over when she steps closer and says " Yes". But soon denies and kisses him full on the lips.

Link is astonished for a second. He feels that electrifying spark between them in that kiss that jolts through his entire body. He hungrily kisses her back. He wraps his arms around her waist and brings her body closer to his. He had been wanting to do that since the minute he saw her rambling the day before.

Amelia doesn't know what came over her. She just knew that she wanted to kiss him. No. She had to kiss him. She needed to kiss him. She wraps her arms around his neck when she feels him pulling her body closer to his by grabbing her slim waist.

He slides his hand up her back eliciting a moan from her all the while kissing her desperately when she feels him pulling back slightly. She stares at him questioningly and prays that he doesn't back out. She really needed him close to her. He rests his forehead against hers briefly before answering.

" I feel like I'm taking advantage ",he says with his eyes downcast.

" Why? "

" Because you're in a place and I think you're insanely pretty." This seals the deal. Now she knows that she isn't doing anything wrong.

" The feeling is mutual" , she smiles her charming smile. His eyes glaze over and he stares at her mouth hungrily when she moves her hands from around his neck and starts unbuttoning his coat and removes it. It drops on the floor when he leans down and captures her parted lips. He kisses her hungrily and brings her body even closer to his if that is possible, all the while Amelia was hurriedly unbuttoning his shirt.

She lets go of his shirt and wraps her hands around his neck again when her pulls her closer. They kiss vigorously when she pulls back. She just had to say this one thing. It is now Link's turn to look at her questioningly. Amelia doesn't want complicated now. She is done with messy.

" This isn't going anywhere. It's just alternative pain relief. "

" I could use some of that ", he says with a sultry smile.

Link leans in and bites her lower lip. They start kissing as if their life depended on it. He slowly starts backing her up towards the bed. She now pushes his shirt over his shoulders and it slides down. Link picks her petite body up in his muscular arms and lowers them on the bed never breaking their kiss. He pins her small body on the bed with his big bulky one and moves down to her neck eliciting a moan from her.

Their aerobic alternative pain relief continued till the wee hours of the morning until both of them tired each other out and succumbed to blissful sleep in each other's arms. Both had content smiles on their faces excited for the future and the experiences that behold them.

Author's Notes:

Hey guys!! So this was the end of the first chapter. I remember that I said I'll post it tomorrow but I just couldn't wait!!! It's a bit long and I hope you really like it. Please share your thoughts in the comments!! I'd really like to know whether I should continue this story or not. The next chapter will be up in a few days. I just have so many ideas for AmeLink! Can't wait ;)

#amelia shepherd fanfic #amelink #amelia and link #atticus lincoln #amelia shepherd #greys antony

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teamjacobthot · 4 years

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1. What's the cringiest memory you have as a Twilight fan? OR the happiest memory? 2. Has Twilight influenced your fashion choices, personality, and so forth? 3. What about Leah Clearwater resonates with you? 4. What's your favorite Jacob scene in the books and movies? [You don't have to answer all of them, no pressure. Thank you!]

let me just say this is my favorite ask in the world. I cried a couple times and I honestly think it’s made me re-evaluate my life. these kinds of asks are My BrandTM and I’m legitimately honored that you’re interested! ilysm 💕

im on mobile and im about to gush abt stuff so keep mf scrolling

1. my cringiest memory is a tie between going to walmart at midnight for the dvd premieres of eclipse and breaking dawn part 1 (and maybe breaking dawn part 2 but i literally can’t remember at this point) and like........going to the seattle twilight convention in 2011. but now that I think about it, it wasn’t cringey at all! i was 13 and it was the single best day of my life. i got up early with my mom that morning and we drove the half hour it took to get to downtown seattle from our house. the girls of the hillywood show hosted and i got to meet them. i later attended panels with tyson housemann and booboo stewart and julia jones 💕💕💕 it was julia’s birthday but she didn’t mention it, humble queen. and omg she wore a tank top and threw a football around........what a woman. booboo also did a backflip in that hotel lobby lmfao. but besides seeing the cast, that slday was incredible bc i won twilight trivia against a bunch of ppl (including grown ass adults) lmao. that was so incredibly fun. best day of my life as a twihard.

wait but BITCH I forgot I went to forks w my dad in 2013!!! the town was dead as fuck but it was so fun 💕💕💕 I did a bunch of tourist shit but I’m so glad I finally went and I’m so thankful for my dad for taking me no matter how bored he was. that was amazing

2. twilight was my first Thing as an adolescent. i got into it when i was 11 years old. it has shaped so much of me, but most importantly, my opportunities to make friends, as well as my music taste bc of my friends from these websites putting me on to new music. the soundtracks ofc put me on to new music too. but anyways, some of my best friends since middle school were people I originally met on twilight fan sites or the 2012 taylor lautner fandom on twitter. twilight was also the longest book I’d read at the time, so it upped my reading habits. and I’ve also loved writing since I was little (like 8 years old) but discovering fan fiction made it that much more fun. I’ve always loved writing and fan fiction enabled my love for it, even though most of my fics were shitty. I had (and still have!) so much fun. in terms of fashion, I had a phase where I liked flannels bc of bella but I definitely dress cuter now than anybody in those movies lmaoo.

3. now Leah Clearwater......LEAH CLEARWATER. she’s always resonated with me in that shes a woman of color and NOT afraid to show others how she feels, no matter how annoyed or uncomfortable everyone else gets because of it. she was hurting and didn’t hide it (not like she could, but still). she made sure she was heard despite all those boys telling her to shut up. and also, her protectiveness over Seth reminds me of how much I care about my younger brother and wanna shield him from everything bad in the world, even when he’s being a dumbass. but overall I think of leah as a huge breath of fresh air in that she’s one of the only characters who not only criticizes the Cullens but Bella too. she also has that brand of humor that’s kinda mean but very true and I’ve definitely embodied it for at least the last 12 years of my life. I just wish she was real so I could be her friend. smeyer managed to under develop one of her most compelling characters ever.

4. my favorite jacob scene in the books was every last scene in new moon before he phased, but especially the part where he and bella talked at the movies. that was really sweet. and I don’t claim eclipse, but the little parts they hung out as friends (before it got annoying) were nice as well. oh and I LOVED when they danced together in the breaking dawn movie. she was so happy to see him! like literally delighted! the first time she looked that hapoy during the entire wedding and reception!!! but my favorite overall jacob scene is definitely at the part in the new moon movie right before I turn the whole thing off, when they’re in her truck and he’s like “sometimes I feel like I’m gonna disappear.” that really gets me. I wish it got more elaboration. jacob’s backstory is literally so rich I wish we got more of it :( and this may be an unpopular opinion but his take on everything that happened in new moon would be totally cool to have but it’s too bad smeyer made him Love Interest #2 and not like.......his own character

thanks sm for this ask!!! this has definitely been my favorite 💞💞

#anon #leah #jacob #personal

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trvelyans-archive · 4 years

Text

i don’t even have anything to say actually. i was expecting to make a review post about tlou2 but there’s really nothing to say.

however i will repeat my past posts anyway because we all love suffering and dr uckmann likes making us suffer

things i liked:

dina !!! jesse !!! lev !!! yara !!! tommy before he was like That !!! jj !!!

exploration was fun besides seattle day 1 (bars) which was, personally, a huge slog on ellie’s behalf

rlly cool location design (aquarium, wlf stadium, jackson)

the rat king fight was actually super fun

LOVE LOVE LOVE the design for the building bridges with lev and abby it was one of the best parts of the game

i actually liked the abby ellie theatre fight (but i liked the david fight and feel like comparing ellie and david is a heretic comparison)

b o a t i n g

accessibility options !!! super cool !!!

the silenced gun you get in the resort chapter

all the collectible notes - that stuff is always rlly cool to me, i love it

the design for some of the buildings ! the cafes, the hotel w abby and lev, the salons, the bike shop, etc... all rlly cool and just. idk. dynamic and realistic

abby’s crossbow................ so incredibly sexy

how they showed off abby’s fear of heights... very cool !!! also several tims i went “you can do it abs” when trying to make her cross the bridge and then immediately didn’t like myself for it xx LKSJDFLK

rain sounds :) says my asmr-loving ass

good graphics !!! very pretty at times !!!

dina and jesse and lev and yara and tommy :) oh an alice ! a queen :’)

the flashbacks w ellie and joel !!! the museum flashback was very cool !!!

things i did not like

ellie’s seattle day 1, esp the open world area - i felt so disconnected and bored the whole time

ellie calling dina a burden.... i don’t think she would literally ever do that no matter how betrayed she felt by dina surprising her with the pregnancy thing

jesse getting shot in the face incredibly quickly and then not having him mentioned a single time after that ? ellie writes about him in her journal, like, once

playing as abby before jackson... felt very weird ??? idk why it just felt so so unnecessary

tommy being very ooc ??? like ??? weirdly so ??? breaking up with maria

killing dogs :) did not like that at all bc animal death is incredibly upsetting for me

hey neil could you have put in more characters getting hanged or hung from posts ????? could you really ???

abby’s completely inconsistent writing

lev being deadnamed and misgendered SO MUCH - why couldn’t they call him apostate instead ???

the excessive and graphic violence, especially in the abby/ellie fight at the end and the boss fight with the scar at the end of haven - did not wanna watching abby stab that man in the face 3-4 times and having him spurt blood everywhere

giving yara such a shitty death where lev didn’t even get to say goodbye.......... even though he lost his mom like 30 minutes earlier............... wig

making marlene sympathetic in salt lake city and having abby’s dad coerce her into otherwise, which makes joel shooting her point blank in the head at the end of the first game even worse (especially bc he’s a white man and she’s a woc) because it’s obvious that she wasn’t entirely convinced and could have been swayed relatively easily

the abby and ellie fight. wig. it was so terrible watching these two incredibly weak and vulnerable women fight completely bloodied and soaked with water and grunting with pain/exertion the whole time. it’s like a 4 minute scene in which abby bites ellie’s fingers off and ellie sinks a knife into abby’s chest and then we watch abby’s face as ellie attempts to drown her. THAT above everything else in the game feels like murder

again, so many people getting hanged or being strung up, which makes me very very upset if that thing about neil druckmann liking horror bc he saw a video of a lynching once is true, can’t stop thinking about that post,

a homophobe yelling at ellie and dina for no reason........ couldn’t he have called ellie lazy or something like ????? they did not need to be called a slur ?????

maria forcing ellie to talk to the man who called her a slur for no reason and the man not even really apologizing for it (probably bc he didn’t want to lol....... but that’s just my opinion)

the scars and rattlers feeling unnecessary and shoe-horned in - again i don’t play a zombie game for the final bosses to all be human and so i can be told that “humans are the real bad guys” over and over again

HOW HAVE I NOT MENTIONED THE ABBY AND OWEN SEX SCENE ALREADY. H. HUH ???????? WHO WANTED THAT !!!!

neil druckmann wanted joel to say “sarah” when he died LMAO THAT MAKES ME WANNA DIE

once again getting the best gun in the game in the final 20 minutes for no reason ? i actually don’t understand why they do that

their respective seattle day 1/2/3 not being one after the other instead of all in a row, which made the story feel choppy and didn’t rlly flow smoothly - obvs we all knew where it was going, but having a back-and-forth would have been good for pacing because i completely forgot about ellie and the literal plot of the game after 1 day with abby

abby’s entire seattle day 1/2/3 having nothing to do with the main plot literally at all, her sudden liking of lev felt completely inconsistent to her character and everything about her

joel’s death being humiliatingly pathetic, for literally no reason

the abby/ellie theatre fight in which ellie is the bad guy and you play that fight the same way you play the fight with a cannibal rapist in the first game

abby going after the man who killed her dad even tho everyone kills someone’s family member every day in this world to survive so why should joel specifically be demonized for that as if abby didn’t kill a single person who wasn’t an orphan and an only child

the guitar minigame was cool but like. i wanna know how much time they spent developing that bc it was not very necessary

obviously all the lying in the trailers

and like. a lot of other things i will probs remember and add to this list in the morning. anyway if i play this game again it will just be for abby’s seattle parts which are in no way related to or about the first game or first half of the second game in any way shape or form. OKAY NOW I’M DONE I PROMISE

#whew what a doozy #also these are all my own opinions so no one come into my asks or dms telling me i'm wrong or something alright...#tlou2 spoilers #mutuals can come into my dms though and tell me their thoughts #long post

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not-a-perfect-metaphor · 5 years

Text

J2-isms-

-Even more. I am so sorry. I cannot control myself. Zero self control. There is no excuse for how long this is.

***********

1. (have I posted this recently? I can’t remember. I don’t think so, but either way...)

Kim M: “You guys were dismissed but you didn’t go away.”

Jared: “We were dismissed but we didn’t go away. One of the few days I’d actually stuck around on set after we’d been wrapped.”

Kim: “All day.”

Jared: “All day.”

Kim: “We won’t go into details-”

Jared: “Into the night!”

*Jensen chuckles*

***

Jared: “(...)And I applied it every night before we went to sleep.”

Jensen: “Little kiss on the forehead and off to bed.”

Kim M.: “Little….going too deep, boys.”

Jensen: “Oh…right.”

^ hooo boy! This was quite something, wasn’t it?

2. Jared: “At the end of a hard day he’s like ‘let me buy you dinner,’ because food is the way to my heart.”

Okay, and then that reminded me of:

Jared: “We went to Ginos.”

Jensen: “And wrote our names on the wall.”

Jared: “I wrote ‘I love Jensen.’”

3. When Jared was asked if he missed Jensen (while the two were separated) and Jared responded that of course he did and that he had just spent an hour on the phone with Jensen and that they texted all the time.

^ I love that instead of just saying yes, he really REALLY said yes!

4. Jensen: “It’s been like that from day one. You know, he and I, we just…there was just this instant…” *fades off*

5. Jensen (about Jared): “I’d jump in front of a bullet for him any day and never think twice.”

^ how could I not post that one??

6. Jason (on what Jensen first said about Jared to him): “I remember when he booked the show and he was like, ‘Man I got it. This might be the one that changes everything,’ and he was like, ‘I gotta tell ya…the guy I’m doing it with is a badass. He’s taller than me. He’s really smart and he’s really cool.’”

Meanwhile, Jared is listening, and he’s all like:

7. (as overshared as this one is, I don’t even care. I’m doing it anyway)

Jared: “I think the reason Jensen and I got along so well was because we didn’t really go about bonding. It didn’t feel like a blind date. It felt like we were continuing a relationship. There’s no rhyme or reason to what happened.”

8. Jensen: “We always find ourselves choosing to be together.”

9. Jensen (about Jared): “We were made for each other.”

^ I don’t care how many times I see this one. It will always be 1,000 too few times.

10. Jensen: “I’m a Sam girl.”

^ adorable

11. Jensen: “When Jared and I fist bump, we don’t need to say anything.”

^ this one was fairly recent, and you know what it reminds me of?? Of course??

^ Jensen has said that his private little way of saying “I love you” to his ‘wife’ husband is a brief touch with his pointer finger. And oh looky look. Here is a lovely example of that! Also, why would he really need a private way of saying “I love you” to his wife? I mean sure, a person might want that, but heck...the alternative here sure makes a LOT more sense. Plus, it’s very unlikely he’d do something he came up with as an intimate means of communicating with his spouse with someone who wasn’t his spouse...

12. Jensen (after Jared talked about Jensen doing “a lot” to help him get through a recent rough patch): “And he does the same for me. That’s one of the things that’s built this very trusting relationship over the past thirteen years.”

^ nope. I can’t. Too much to say. Although this one also popped into my head:

Jensen: “Jared and I have been trusting each other for years.”

13. Okay but remember when Jared called Jensen a DILF? Hehe. That deserved its own number.

14. (on their truly remarkable interconnectedness)

Jensen (to Jared in amazement): “I was just thinking that in my head, I swear to you.”

Jared: “I know you were.”

15. Jensen (to Jared): “You are a teacher. I learn from you daily.”

^ I mean, again...not crying or anything...

16. Jensen: “It’s he and I…all day, all night.”

^ necessary

17. Jensen: “There’s a shorthand between he and I…that we don’t even have to look each other, we don’t have to say anything…”

18. Jared: “I love…” *thinks*

Jensen: “Me!”

Which reminded me of:

Jensen: “I just got like 450 hugs.”

Jared: “Yeah, from me!”

19. Jensen (on his relationship with Jared): “It allows us to create and work hard. It allows us to love. I’m very thankful I have that with someone else.”

^ what love should be

20. This:

21. Jensen (on a time he and Jared had to take separate vehicles for a long ride back to set): “We still went together. It was a convoy. I’m not gonna lie.”

Jared: “With the walkie-talkies.”

Jensen: “We had walkie-talkies.”

^ codependent (in the best possible way) husbandry

22. Jensen: “I almost packed up acting a couple of times.”

Fan: “Glad you didn’t!”

Jensen: “Thank you, me too.”

Jared (emotionally): “Me three.”

*hugs Jensen*

23. Jensen (tugging Jared’s beanie off in front of the camera): “Let them see the beautiful hair, let them see it.”

^ so we all have seen this one a zillion times. Ehhh. It’s worth it.

24. This hardly counts as a J2-ism, but I realized that in the post where I mentioned this marathon, I forgot to also mention that the following picture was the one used (hearts and all) by Seattle Marathon to front the event:

^ I mean...what more is there to say really?

25. I will leave us off on this note. When a fan asked J2 about things their wives do that annoy them, they answered the question (with some ‘asides’ that I will surely bring up in a future post), but the absolute best part was when Jensen segwayed into discussing the fact that Jared takes out his gum and sticks it to the counter when he comes into Jensen’s trailer to put it back in his mouth again when he leaves. And, as has been pointed out many a time by many a person, why exactly would Jared need to take his gum out for the expanse of time he’s in Jensen’s trailer? Cough*making-out*coughcough

#j2 #j2 tinhat #adorable lovebirds #quotes #a love like no other

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kaspbrak-tozier-reddie · 4 years

Note

1,13,25 Reddie for the festive prompts please 😁

#1 “It’s almost midnight” #13 “Ho ho ho bitch” #25 “Wait, no one got you anything?”

Warnings: Mentions of abuse, swearing, this came out more angsty than I wanted, abusive Wentworth and Maggie. But real fluffy towards the end.

READ ON AO3

Summary:

Much to Richie’s dismay, for their time back in Derry for the holidays, the Losers spend Christmas at Richie’s but things start to build up and Eddie sends everyone to Mike’s farmhouse to be safe and to keep Richie away from his parents. Despite the angst that this story holds in the beginning, there’s a sweet ending to it that I hope makes up for the angst that I wrote.

——————————

“Wait, no one got you anything?” Eddie asks Stan.

“No! I had made several friends over the year that we’ve been at college and none of them bought me a birthday gift!” Stan shrieks.

“Could it be because you’re Jewish?” Richie prompts, Stan gives him a stern look and Richie put his arms up in surrender of the daggers behind Stan’s glare.

“I’m sorry, I’m just so used to you guys,” Stan mutters, he’s always claimed that he hated everyone but they all knew it was fake. Stan’s stoic exterior was always a front to his true emotion but everyone sees right through it. At least his childhood friends.

The Losers huddled around for warmth in the uninviting room that Richie Tozier once slept in, now in college, his walls are bare with only the outlines of the band posters that once were taped in place. Since it’s Christmas and the Losers were all flying into Derry for their families, they decided to make their way over to Richie’s for the festive time. Even though Stan’s Jewish, he came back for the friends, not wanting to be the only one to not show up. He missed everyone, especially Mike and Bill, but that isn’t the point. It gave him a reason to go shopping instead of the general trip out to the grocery store. “It’s almost midnight!” Richie sings softly, careful to not wake his parents. “1 hour to go.”

But he forgot that Wentworth has ears like a dog, sensitive sense of hearing. “QUIET DOWN RICHARD!” Wentworth’s blaring voice makes the thin walls tremble, the echoing sound of Wentworth Tozier is enough to make everyone wince, not just Richie.

Richie usually refused to let anyone stay the night (except Eddie), it was usually just the “stay for dinner; study then leave” kinda thing, that way nobody knew how bad his parents could be. Eddie, however, knew, if things got rough at home he’d sneak in through Richie’s window and Richie often did the same with Eddie. Both seeking comfort from the other.

“I knew it was bad Rich but this is - ” Beverly’s cut off by Richie’s hand a signal for her to stop.

“Don’t even, this isn’t the worst of it,” Richie says, “Look, forget about Worthless and have a fun Christmas.” Eddie rubs Richie’s back, trying to comfort him like he usually did whenever Richie snuck over in the late hours of the night.

Eddie knows that the others would understand if but at the same time Richie never really wanted to speak about it. His jokes cover-up so much, most of which only Eddie knows about. Sure Richie had often thought about telling the others why they couldn’t go to his house but he could never muster up the courage. That’s where he’s at now, beating himself up because he was forced to have Christmas over at his parents’ place instead of Mike’s or Ben’s like the original plan was. No matter how hard he fought it, there was no point in arguing with the Losers, Eddie tried to butt in once, in Richie’s defence, but was cut off by Stan.

“How about, we go to sleep and deal with the outcome tomorrow? If it’s bad as it usually is, we can head Mike’s.” Eddie says cuddling into Richie.

“Okay, how the fuck do you know -” Ben stops himself, looking between the two 19/20-year-old boys, Bev snickers, Mike and Bill look at Richie and Eddie questioningly and Stan rolls his eyes.

“Let’s just sleep,” Eddie huffs kicking the 5 other Losers off the bed and gets under the covers, sliding into Richie’s hold.

Eddie can feel Richie turn behind him and he naturally follows, spooning Richie’s long lanky build. He runs his free hand through the tuft of Richie’s dark tight curls, letting his fingers detangle some of the strands. Richie’s shoulders start to shake slightly and short puffs of air start to flow from his mouth, something wet drips onto Eddie’s hand. Eddie immediately throws a leg over Richie’s waist, pulling him closer, he nuzzles his head into Richie’s shoulder and pushes him back a little, hoping the taller man would take the hint. Thankfully Richie does and turns over so that he’s on his back, Eddie moves his head up so that his mouth is right by Richie’s ear. “Ignore your parents Rich,” Eddie whispers, “You’re 20, they can’t do anything. If they try anything, you have me and the others.”

“Thanks, Eds,” Richie mumbles.

The two lie in the bed, huddled together for the warmth and Richie’s comfort, it’s almost like nothing has changed. Even though they live thousands of miles apart, with Richie in Seattle and Eddie in New York, they still call and Skype each other daily, refusing to part with each other. Their friendship overpowering everything else, it’s them against the world, even if their crush on each other is getting too deep and too powerful for either to handle.

Richie having lost his in the Summer of ‘89, having written R+E on the Kissing Bridge when he was the mere age of 14.

****

Several hours pass and Richie and Eddie end up being the only ones up, the two dodges passed Bill and Mike who had their sleeping bags right by the door and slip out to the kitchen. “Merry Christmas Eddie Spaghetti,” Richie says hugging the shorter (by only a few inches) boy.

“Merry Christmas to you too Richie, see that you’re already using nickname privileges,” Eddie replies.

There are only three days in the entire year that Eddie allows for such nicknames to be used; Christmas, Eddie’s birthday and Richie’s birthday. Of course, in Richie fashion, he doesn’t waste it, using only nicknames for the entire day. Not once calling Eddie, well, Eddie.

“You betcha, Eds.” Eddie shudders but remembers that he can’t get mad either, all part of the privilege. Why oh why did his 15-year-old self give into such a terrible thing?!

Richie flicks on the pot of coffee, making sure there’ll be enough for 5 caffeine hungry Losers while Eddie opts for the tea option, so Richie quickly flicks on the kettle knowing full well that he filled it with water the night before. “Richard? Get me some aspirin and turn that fucking kettle off.” Ah, the kind words of Maggie Tozier. “I have a ghastly headache, I’m not in the mood -” Maggie walks right into the kitchen and sees Eddie in his matching Christmas pyjama set, “sorry, didn’t know you had company. William, isn’t it?”

Eddie can’t believe what is happening before him. It must’ve gotten worse, she’s never called him ‘William’.

“Ma, this is Edward Kaspbrak,” Richie says calmly, almost like he’s introducing them, for the first time, and hands her two tablets of Aspirin for her hangover. “Why don’t you go back to bed, it’s 7 in the morning.” Richie leads her back to his parent’s bedroom, pauses by the door as he makes sure she’s in bed then closes the door behind him.

The sight is too painful for Eddie to bare, sure he’s seen both Went and Maggie at their worst but never this. He has never seen Richie pull out the ‘parenting the parent’ act before. “Talk to me, please?” Eddie begs.

“Eddie, I - this is why I always kicked you out before you could see. This - this… oh fuck.” Eddie watches the man before him in his red fluff Christmas onesie crash to the floor. 14 years of looking after his mom and getting beaten up by his dad, he finally shows his weakness. His legs caving from under him, causing him to fall to the ground, tears streaming down his face, the kettle whistling in the background. Eddie rushed to the ground pulling Richie in for a long much-needed shoulder to cry on.

The whistling of the kettle continues to get louder and louder, sure enough out walks Wentworth, his face red, steam coming out from his ears. Eddie can see him in out the corner of his eye as he continues to try to calm Richie down. “Richard!” Mr Tozier’s voice booms through the kitchen and Eddie starts to worry. Richie is pulled up and slammed into the counter facing the coffee pot, face inches away from the scolding hot glass. “Hurry, boy.”

“Mr Tozier, please stop,” Eddie begs. “It’s Christmas.” Wentworth turns away from the broken Richie who quickly crawls to the corner of the kitchen, quivering in fear.

“Christmas? Is that so? So what if it’s Christmas.” Wentworth spits, “now as for you. I want you out. If not I will call that mother of yours and I highly doubt she’ll be pleased that you aren’t over there for Christmas.”

Eddie looks to Richie who is looking at him with an apologetic smile, the fear is replaced with anger and hostility. Eddie has only seen that look a few times, whenever Bowers had called Eddie a gay slur in middle school.

But this is Christmas and it is supposed to be a time full of joy and family. But obviously, Wentworth has different ideas.

Eddie, quickly remembers that 5 others are sleeping in Richie’s room, completely oblivious to the scene unfolding in the kitchen. And if Wentworth is angry enough, it will get very, very bad, very quickly! He tries everything in his power to not think about his restricted airway from his ‘asthmatic’ (panic) attack. “I will, just please let me get my things first then I’ll be on my way, sir,” Eddie says shyly, not wanting to stir up more problems than there already was. Wentworth backs down and Eddie bolts to Richie’s room.

Panic surges through him not wanting to leave Richie vulnerable to Wentworth. Oh, why didn’t I do something sooner?! Eddie thinks. If only I didn't think so selfishly as a child. So what if he had to go to a family member in Florida or Texas. At least he would've been safe.

He could've gotten Richie help all those years ago, instead, there they are as 20-year-olds and Richie is still terrified of his parents. Telephones were invented for a reason.

“GUYS! We have to leave!” Eddie says kicking legs. “But be quiet and go out through his window.”

“What why?” Mike asks.

“I’ll explain once I get to your farmhouse. This is a red alert, guys. Move it!” Eddie says and the 5 of them groggily chuck everything out the window and make a run for it not wanting to be in amongst whatever is happening in the kitchen.

Eddie slowly packs up his belongings in his backpack and makes his way back out. As he rounds the corner he sees Richie trying to contain himself. His bony arms shake as he tries to pour coffee into 9 mugs. Wentworth is nowhere in sight and Eddie knows it could be moments before he could come back. “Rich, I sent the other out, I’ll do this,” Eddie says quietly, Richie quickly moves aside and places back mugs they don’t need and Eddie pours the caffeinated beverage into two mugs and pours the outrageous, 2 shots of vodka, into Maggie’s mug.

He leaves the mugs on the counter and races out the back door with Richie’s wrist in his hand, dragging him with him. They race through the back streets, away from the heart of the town, not wanting to be seen by people that may tell Wentworth where his son went. “Eddie, I’m sorry,” Richie pants as they’re about halfway to Mike’s farmhouse.

“Richie -”

“No stop, I’m weak, I should’ve stood up for you.” His words hit Eddie like a truck, it’s like a punch to the stomach. This isn’t how Christmas is meant to be, it isn’t meant to be full of fear.

“Richie, I should’ve said something to the others when they wanted to stay at yours instead of Mike’s or Ben’s. I knew how bad it can get and yet I did nothing!” Eddie’s vision becomes clouded with tears and quickly blinks them away and drags Richie down the hill towards the house.

It is my fault, became Eddie’s mantra the rest of the walk down to Mike’s farm.

****

As soon as they pass the pile of bikes (and one standing), the pair are met with 5 people with stern looks in their eyes. “Ho ho ho bitch,” Richie says dully, towards Beverly.

“Ho ho ho bitch? No, you need to explain what the fuck happened,” Beverly says.

“Rich, I’ll tell them, you go sit down or make yourself a coffee, I’ve got this,” Eddie says, Richie moves slowly to the kitchen and starts up a pot of coffee.

“So?” Stan pushes.

Eddie takes a deep breath and looks over at Richie who is hunched over the counter, his shoulders shaking, symbolising that he’s either in shock or crying. Eddie wants nothing more than to race over and kiss him, hug him, fuck him but with the losers close by wanting an explanation, he walks them outside, away from Richie.

“Look, as you all know we all haven’t had the best of childhoods,” Eddie starts, the 5 of them nodding in agreement. “Richie’s was pretty bad, maybe just as bad as yours Bev …” Eddie trails off. “He should be the one to tell you.”

“Eddie, just fucking continue!” Bill says.

“Fine.” Eddie sighs, “Look his parents are abusive, his mother is verbally and his dad is physically abusive. Richie used to come over to mine at ungodly hours of the night in fear and pain. He never wanted to worry any of you and since I was there I was collateral damage.”

“What!?” Ben shrieks. “Why didn’t he tell us?”

“Because it’s Richie,” Stan says. “He wanted people to believe he’s brave so that they wouldn’t pick on him. It didn’t work though.” Everyone turns to Stan but he ignores the sudden attention. “Why did he go to you first?” Stan never wanted anyone to know that he secretly cares about all the losers, especially his first best friend, Richie.

“I lived closer than you all did and it’s because he was the only one who knew about my mother at that time. We were 8 when he first started climbing in through my window.”

Eddie remembers that night as if it were yesterday.

He was asleep, as it was 11 pm, but he was woken up by a groan, one that was all too familiar. He turned on his lamp and sure enough, there’s his best friend pushing himself off the ground. “Richie?” Eddie mumbled, sleep thick in his throat.

“Shoot, sorry Eddie, do you mind if I stay here?” Richie asked.

“Not unless you tell me what - I’m sorry is that a fucking bruise on your arm?” Richie’s eyes trailed to his forearm where sure enough, there was a large bruise and a cigarette burn mark right above it.

“My dad got me good.” Richie huffed, kicked off his shoes and slid into the bed beside Eddie. “Don’t tell anyone that my parents did this.”

“I won’t.”

The two pinky swore on it because, you know, 8-year-olds and fell asleep facing away from each other. But knowing that Eddie was sleeping only 3 inches away was enough to give him comfort.

“Look, it’s Christmas and it would be nice to forget about the Toziers expect for the one in the kitchen who needs us, his real family,” Eddie says and guides the lot of them back into the house.

Richie’s sitting on the couch cradling the cup of coffee in his hand. Dry tears had stained his face in the few minutes that the 6 other Losers had been outside. Eddie moves to sit down beside Richie, who immediately breaks again at Eddie’s soft touch. “Baby?” Eddie whimpers, Richie tries to fight it, not wanting the others to witness his vulnerable state. “FUCK THIS CHRISTMAS!” He doesn’t care if Eddie sees him cry since Eddie had on several occasions whenever Richie climbed in through his window.

“Edward,” Eddie stops at the sound of Richie’s soft yet stern voice. “I just want to forget what happened this morning.”

“Rich,” Eddie hiccups, he loses it. He can’t contain his guilt, his shame any more. He holds tightly onto Richie, mumbling a continuous stream of ‘I’m sorry’ into Richie’s chest. The taller boy starts to rub Eddie’s back, soothing him. “I had known for so long, I should’ve done something but I didn’t want you to be taken away. I was so fucking selfish.”

“I love you, Eds, calm down, okay. I’m safe,” Richie says, Eddie’s tears start to slow down. “We’re with our true family. The one that cares and loves us.” Eddie pulls back and looks into Richie’s eyes, past the dirty lenses of his coke bottle glasses, they are glossed over with tears threatening to pour but they showed the love and affection that he could only see over the internet and had only one their first 3 dates before college started back up in the fall.

They had kept their relationship under wraps now for 5 or 6 months and Richie saying those 3 magical words is enough for Eddie to stop. “I love you too Richie,” Eddie hiccups, calming down from the crying. “I’m still sorry.” Richie grabs Eddie’s cheeks and kisses him, slipping his tongue into Eddie’s mouth to truly shut him up. Eddie pulls back after a few seconds, remembering his friends are in the room.

“You’re okay,” Bill says for the first time without the stutter. “We’re all okay and you both are far away from those people.”

“Okay okay, enough about the Toziers. When the fuck did you two plan to tell us?!” Beverly squeals.

“Ummmm, never?” Richie replies.

“You asshole!” Bill says.

“Okay okay, calm down everyone, I’m sure there’s a good excuse,” Stanley mutters.

“I didn’t want to hear the wrath of Mrs K when she found out that I was cheating on her with her hot-ass son,” Richie says smugly, Eddie groans.

Everyone throws up their hands in disgust hoping that Richie would give a nice emotional story about how he got Eddie. How he finally stopped pining for the other boy and asked him out. But alas! Richie pulls out the Sonia Kaspbrak card causing the tension to be released and Eddie to groan. “Seriously though, I found him on a dating app when I was in New York, visiting him, and we decided to test out the waters,” Richie says.

The pair went to a cafe and Eddie had gotten up to pay, Richie had taken the opportunity to open up one of his 4 dating apps only to be faced with the tough decision to either swipe right or swipe left on his hypochondriac best friend. He was slightly mortified considering that he didn’t think Eddie was gay, though he was curious and hesitantly tapped on the profile.

As soon as the profile opened, Richie was shocked, to say the least, the photos that Eddie had uploaded were most certainly not Mrs K approved. The tall curly-haired boy had to quickly scroll away before he got a subsequent hardon from them. As he looked through Eddie’s likes and dislikes he came across a statement about the men he’s into and it caused Richie to almost have a heart attack. “I like my men with the shittiest taste of humour and the annoying nicknames and banter, hit me with the ‘mom jokes’ and ‘dick jokes’ any day.”

“Richie? Are you okay? You’re looking a bit pale,” Eddie said as he sat back down at the table.

“Huh? Yeah, just I, uh, found your profile,” Richie said and passed Eddie his phone. The boy in front of him gulps and looks up from the rectangular device. “I operate on mom jokes and dick jokes, Eds. I know you hate nicknames but you secretly love it when I call you 'Eds’, were you hoping that one day I’d see your profile instead of talking to me like a normal human?”

“I - ” Eddie stopped himself and looked at Richie’s profile since he still had Richie’s phone in his hands. His eyes widen, the corner of his mouth curls up. “You like me too, asshole?”

“I - uh - yeah, yeah I do. Shit, I have since I was 13.”

Richie looked back at his byline and chuckled 'Looking for a short stack cutie who wears a fanny pack.’ He still couldn’t believe that he wrote that, it was wrong on some level but yet, it wasn’t cringy like Eddie’s was.

“It wasn’t awkward we already were practically dating anyway,” Eddie laughs.

“‘Bout time you both realised,” Mike cries. Eddie and Richie look to each other and burst out laughing in absolute agreement.

The two had agreed on their first date that they had been ridiculous. Dancing around each other like there’s no tomorrow when they could’ve had this far sooner than 2 years into college. Eddie no longer needing an excuse to touch Richie, and Richie no longer needing the reason to annoy Eddie, but he still does it anyway because that’s just who Richie is - a pain in Eddie’s behind, both metaphorically and physically.

The Losers all huddle around Richie and Eddie needing Richie to grasp hold onto all the comfort, love and support he has from every single one of them in that room. Not a moment goes by that Richie isn’t thanking them or kissing every single one of their cheeks to show that he loves them too - not just his cute, hypochondriac boyfriend.

The others all pull away but leaves Bev and Richie to themselves, both crying into each others hair. Seeing Richie lose all his strength that he’s been showing for the past 8 years to Bev, Mike, Ben and Bill, triggered Bev’s response. Richie had comforted her all those years ago when her father was abusing her and was being taken away to live with an aunt or grandparent many states over. She didn’t want to leave the amazing group of friends that she had made but she was secretly glad that she was moving far away from the town that caused her pain for 13 years.

Now it was Richie’s turn, he needed everybody’s support but he needed Bev; if there’s one thing he has learnt over the years is that Bev gives the best hugs in times of need. “I’m proud of you Rich,” She mumbles into the soft curls of Richie’s unwashed and untamed hair. “Fuck them.” Richie laughs in turn and pulls away, wiping his eyes and reaches for his now cold black brew coffee. He takes a sip and cringes at the taste but sculls the rest of it nonetheless.

“Presents?” Eddie asks, “I retrieved them all from under the tree before we left.”

A chorus of loud 'yes’s filled the living room and Eddie pulls open his backpack. 28 wrapped gifts tumble out of the bag and onto the floor at Eddie’s feet, he makes piles for each person and one by one everyone grabs their piles of presents and starts to open them. Even though the morning was ruined, the day got better as the Losers Club gathered 'round and opened gifts, that’s the beauty of them, they acknowledge the pain and trauma and then push it away and forget about it entirely.

“Eds, I uh. Look just read this. I’m going to the bathroom,” Richie says, passing his boyfriend an envelope upon leaving his warm embrace. Eddie watches Richie leaves and slowly tears the paper, inside is a letter and judging from Richie’s behaviour he can only assume that he’s breaking up with him but that is very far from the truth.

Dearest Eds,

This is probably the stupidest thing I will say and will probably regret as you will either say it’s too soon or some shit and I get that. I love you and if I haven’t said that by now then I’m a fucking idiot and you have permission to kick the crown jewels, actually don’t I may be a dick but please do not do that.

Anyway, I am going to propose this. I am thinking about transferring colleges for next semester, that is of course if you will take my preposition. Will you move in with me? I love you and I hate that we only have a fucking long-distance relationship, I want to be able to kiss you, hug you, take you on dates. You deserve so much more than you’re getting from me and I wouldn’t blame you if you did end up breaking up with me but I know you wouldn’t.

We’ve practically been dating since our fucking first year of high school, so really may be moving in with each other isn’t too soon. Or am I being impulsive? I would do anything for you Eddie Spaghetti and moving to NYC to be with you is #1 on my list of things I’d do for you. If we weren’t 20, only been dating for 6 months and still in college, I would 100% propose to you.

I love you so fucking much,

Forever yours,

Trashmouth

As soon as he puts the letter down, he can feel something hot and wet run down his cheeks, he didn’t even know he was crying. Stan immediately wanting to kick Richie’s ass for making Eddie cry, picks up the letter and reads it. “Awe,” he mumbles. “Richie is actually sweet?” Then he gags a little when he gets closer to the end. “I think I’m going to be sick, this is far too sappy.”

****

Richie comes back from the bathroom and comes face to face with 5 grinning Losers and 1 sobbing boyfriend, who’s running towards him. “Yes, Richie, yes!” Eddie squeals embracing Richie in a tight embrace. “I love you so fuckin much but never, ever, make it seem like you’re breaking up with me again!”

“Of course Eduardo Andale,” Richie says and Eddie groans, “Right, sorry, of course, never again.“

Eddie smiles and kisses his boyfriend with a much passion as he can muster and lightly tugs on Richie’s brown curls. He lets his fingers knot in the bird’s nest that Richie calls his hair, he savours the taste of Richie’s mouth, cigarettes, coffee and spearmint gum. "Okay! Okay! Stop it!” Stan cries. “You two can bone later.”

Richie groans at the loneliness when Eddie pulls away and the shorter boy plants a kiss to Richie’s cheek but even that doesn’t satisfy him. “Later,” Eddie mutters softly to the taller boy and Richie shudders in response.

Stan puts on Die Hard, wanting to watch an action but Christmas film and while everyone is distracted by arguing over Die Hard and Love, Actually; Richie takes it upon himself to pull Eddie onto his lap and kisses him softly. “Would you be mad if I told you that I wasn’t planning on transferring but had done it already?” Richie asks against Eddie’s soft pink plump lips. Eddie perks up, pulling away from Richie.

“Did you?” Eddie whispers, Richie nods and the small boy drags Richie to the bathroom, leaving the others (who are still arguing over the best Christmas movie) completely unaware of what is about to go down in Mike’s guest bathroom.

#reddie #richie x eddie #eddie x richie #eddie kaspbrak #richie tozier #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2

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queenmylovely · 5 years

Text

Just My Luck; Part 4

Summary: John deacon x fem!reader. Reader finally meets John along with the rest of Queen. They grab dinner.

Warnings: Cursing, slow burn

A/N: They finally meet! So exciting! John and Reader are so cute. Roger is picked on in this one, but it’s okay cause he’s being a little dumb. It’s also my birthday lol so as a present, let me know what you think and I wouldn’t mind some likes and reblogs also ;)

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12, Part 13, Part 14 (Epilogue), Masterlist

🍀🍀🍀

Getting off of the hour long plane ride, you were nervous. You and John had agreed that he would pick you up from the airport so you didn’t have to navigate through London alone. He told you he would be holding a sign with your name on it so you could find him. Other than that, you knew he had long hair, was about 5’11”, and was white. He knew your same basic information.

You walked through the gate, eyes scanning for John. But there were a lot of people. You walked along the outskirts of the path to avoid the crowd and saw something that made your breath catch in your throat. Not more than five feet from you diagonally to the left was the bassist from Queen. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing and found yourself moving further to the right but in line with him. From a high table that was there for people waiting, you watched him.

What in the world would he be doing here? Doesn’t he have people to do stuff like this for him? Also, what the fuck is his name? You thought to yourself. You knew that Jeanne would be disappointed that you couldn’t remember. Jeanne! Oh my gosh, she’s going to freak out when I tell her about this. So will John, he’s in the music industry, I bet he loves Queen, you supposed. You kept your eyes on the rockstar, his name finally coming to you as he turned slightly, allowing you to see what he was holding.

“John!” You said out loud.

Luckily, the gate was still bustling and your outburst had been drowned out. John Deacon of Queen was holding a sign that said “Y/N Y/L/N” in bold, carefully written letters. You felt dizzy as you stared on, legs weakening and your heart beating out of control. You couldn’t believe that the two Johns you had spent the past few months slightly obsessing over were one in the same. Of course, it had really been Queen, not just specifically John Deacon, but you still felt like your brain was melting and your eyes were playing tricks on you. As you stayed in the same place watching, you noticed that John had started looking a little worried and was checking his watch in between searching the area with his eyes. In another moment of surrealism, you remembered he was looking for you. You decided that you should go over and meet him, and that you would have to try to maintain yourself when you did.

You walked up behind him and tapped him on the shoulder saying, “Excuse me?”

John turned his head only very slightly and started to say, “I’m sorry, I’m actually waiting for some—” before you interrupted him.

“Johnny?”

Recognizing the nickname that only one person in the world called him, he whipped around and looked at you directly in the eyes. “Y/N.” It wasn’t a question but a statement.

You quickly nodded, but were scanning every inch of his face to be sure it was truly him. As you examined his face, you saw a grin start to form on his lips and travel all the way up to his eyes, bringing your own eyes with it. Just the sight caused you to start smiling as well.

As you did, he exclaimed, “Y/N!” He laughed as he leant down to hug you, unable to contain himself as he squeezed you so hard you were lifted to your tip-toes. “I’m so excited to see you! It’s so good to meet you in person!”

“You too, Johnny,” you said a bit more quietly, lifting your arms to wrap around his neck as you stretched.

After a short pause where you both breathed in each other’s scent, you both laughed and John released you, settling you back down on your feet. Smiling at each other, both of you were silent for a moment, just taking each other in. Your mind was still a little hazy from the mix of the warmth of his body and the combination of smells of his cologne, shampoo, and just him when he spoke, catching you off guard.

“Um, do we need to go to the luggage claim to get your bag?” John asked, deciding he needed to move this meeting along, lest he just stare at you in the middle of your gate for the rest of the day. However, when he spoke, you started laughing, which confused him. “Why are you laughing?” he asked, perplexed.

You continued laughing as you replied, “Nothing, I just kind of forgot that you’re British. Like, you have an accent. For some reason I had never really thought about it before.”

With your explanation, he started laughing too, a light, breathy sound you could listen to forever. “Well, I’m not the only one with an accent you know, you have one too. I find it endearing, though, not something I want to laugh at,” he replied, teasing and you laughed again but didn’t miss his comment about being endearing. “So, your luggage…?”

“Oh, no, I just have this,” you replied, lifting your small duffel bag slightly. You had only brought your carry on from Seattle because you didn’t want to lug around your big suitcase and it was only for a week.

“Well, allow me then,” John offered, reaching for the strap of the bag. You acquiesced to his request, though for most people you wouldn’t have. He gestured with his free hand to the direction behind you, “I parked just across the way from the entrance, it’s not too far.”

“Okay,” you said as he started to walk and you followed. As you walked, your mind was stuck on who he was. I mean, he was honest about what he looked like, you mused. He looked exactly like the pictures from A Night at the Opera. His long, brown, slightly wavy hair with little bangs ending at his temples. His eyes, nose, lips, all exactly the same as the face you had repeatedly stared at with Jeanne since buying her the album. Other than trying not to stare at him too obviously, you were contemplating when or whether you should tell him that you recognized him. He hadn’t mentioned it himself in any of his letters, so maybe knowing that you’re a fan would freak him out. It might feel like an invasion of privacy. Although, to be fair, you knew much more about Johnny than you did John Deacon.

You were still lost in thought when he spoke up, “So, how was your flight?”

“It was good, much shorter than the one from Seattle, so that was nice. Thanks again for the tickets, you really shouldn’t have,” you replied.

“It was really no trouble, my work has free tickets for us all the time,” he said, brushing off your thanks.

By that time, the two of you had reached his car. Except it wasn’t a car. It was an unmarked black van, what you assumed Queen used to haul their gear. John announced, “Here it is,” and opened the back barn doors to place your bag inside.

You had stayed on the right side of the car, waiting to get in when John walked up next to you. “Hey, if you want to drive, that’s fine by me, but I think you’ll find the passenger side is on the left,” he teased, good-naturedly.

“Oh, right,” you said as you smiled sheepishly and headed to the other side.

John unlocked his door and got in, leaning over the middle console to unlock yours from the inside. You climbed in and got settled as he turned the key, bringing the car to life. He reached for the radio as he put the car into reverse and pulled out of the spot he was in and then the garage. He turned up the music only slightly so the two of you would be able to talk during the drive. The song that was playing was that one about not being afraid of the grim reaper (you were sure Jeanne would know the name of the song and the band), it made sense that he would listen to rock.

“So, my flat is pretty close, only about a ten minute drive from here,” he explained and you nodded. “My roommate will probably be there, if you remember me mentioning him?”

“Yeah, Brian,” you replied, thinking back to his letters.

“I didn’t say his name was Brian.”

Your eyes widened, realizing that he had only told you that he had a roommate that he worked with, and you only knew his name because of Queen and those celebrity magazines that Jeanne bought every so often. Of course the one time you remember anyone’s name is the one time it can get you in trouble.

“So you do know Queen, then? I was wondering if you were out of touch or something,” he said, laughing. He had wondered if you were ever going to recognize him and was surprised that you hadn’t come right out and said anything.

“Well you could have let me know yourself, you bastard,” you cried, hitting his arm but not hard. “But, no, you just gave me a fucking heart attack when I saw your sign at the gate after recognizing you!”

“Is that why you came up to me from behind?” he said with a cheeky grin. You looked away from him in a huff at the question and crossed your arms. He saw your reaction and tried explaining, “Okay, well I didn’t tell you because the boys advised me against it. They thought, and I’ll admit I agreed, that if you found out beforehand, you might have tried to manipulate me or something. We have to be pretty careful, and I hadn’t known you well for six years. It did surprise us when we figured out that you didn’t know who I was before that first letter.”

“Well, like I said, you can blame stupid 18 year old Johnny and Y/N for that,” you said in response, your manufactured anger fading, and you relaxed your arms by your sides. “I guess I understand why you had to take that precaution.”

“Good, I’m glad you’re so understanding,” he said, reaching over and touching your hand that was resting on the seat next to you. You stopped and looked down at your two hands, his larger one almost completely covering yours. As soon as he had placed it there, he moved it again to return it to the wheel so he could make a turn. As the car shifted, you could still feel the warmth of his hand on yours.

Clearing your throat, you said, “So is it safe to assume that your ‘job’ in music is actually Queen?”

“Ha ha, yeah. I didn’t want to completely lie to you or anything.”

“Well, at least it makes me feel better about the plane tickets. I’m not worried about Queen affording them,” you jabbed, with a raised eyebrow and a smirk. He laughed at your words and then the two of you fell into a silence. It was a little awkward, but mostly you were still caught up on who he was. Thinking back to those months since Jeanne’s birthday and how your eyes had immediately been drawn to John was almost unsettling. How could you reconcile the attraction you had felt to John Deacon of Queen with the affection and friendship you had with Johnny? You were still pondering that question when he pulled up to a row of buildings and parked.

“We’re here,” he said cheerfully, getting out to grab your bag. You hopped out too, and followed closely as he started walking toward the center of the block. His apartment was unlike yours because there was no inside connection between them. All of the entrances were separate and directly outside. There was no lobby or mailroom. As such, the two of you walked up a couple flights of stairs to his front door and he grabbed his keys.

He smiled at you and when you gave only a tight-lipped smile back, he tried to reassure you, “Hey, don’t be nervous, it’s only my roommate.”

You scoffed at his down-playing but replied, “I’m fine, it’s no big deal.”

He moved to unlock and open the door, pushing it open and letting you inside first. Walking in behind you but not looking as he closed the door, he bumped into you as he tried to walk further in. He looked at you and noticed a strange look on your face. Following your eyes, his mouth dropped open just like yours. His was from disappointment but yours was from pure overwhelment. In the living room before you was not just Johnny’s roommate, Brian, but also the rest of his bandmates. This time, you had no trouble remembering their names; Freddie Mercury and Roger Taylor.

“Well, I guess we’re doing this,” Deaky sighed and ushered you the rest of the way inside with a little push on the shoulder. He put your bag down next to the entrance and then stepped up to you as he gestured for the other boys to stand up. Brian was first.

“Y/N, this is Brian May, Brian, this is Y/N Y/L/N,” Johnny explained.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” Brian said warmly as he shook your hand.

“You too, Brian,” you said quietly, looking into his kind eyes.

Next was Freddie. “Y/N, this is Freddie Mercury, Freddie, Y/N Y/L/N.”

“I don’t do handshakes, darling,” Freddie said and instead pulled you into a hug. You made a sound of surprise but hugged him back quickly. He pulled away, giving you a sweet smile before letting you go.

“Last and most certainly least,” Deaky said, earning a glare from Roger. “Y/N, this is Roger Taylor, Roger, this is Y/N Y/L/N.”

“Mr. Roger Taylor,” you said under your breath. But it wasn’t quiet enough.

“Mr. Roger Taylor! I haven’t heard that before. I like it,” Roger replied, grinning with raised eyebrows.

“Did I say that out loud?” you asked, your eyes widening for what felt like the hundredth time that day. You tried to cover for yourself, “I’m so sorry, that’s just what my roommate calls you. I guess it stuck in my head.”

“Not to worry, love,” Roger reassured, grabbing your outstretched hand and making a mental note in his folder for that girl Jeanne. However, instead of shaking it, he pulled it to his lips, kissing your knuckles while maintaining strong eye contact and smirking. He said lowly, “A pleasure to meet you, Y/N.”

“Likewise,” you squeaked out after swallowing thickly. Looking back to Johnny, you saw daggers in his eyes and red on his cheeks; not directed at you, but at Roger. Roger just returned the look with an innocent smile.

“So, Y/N,” Brian started, trying to ease the tension in the air. “How are you enjoying Europe?”

“I love it! Tournai is amazing. I love the food and architecture and art. It’s a dream. And the students I’m teaching certainly learn English quicker than I learned French,” you replied with eyes and smile bright.

“That’s good! We spent a little time in Brussels on tour but didn’t get to see much, you should consider yourself lucky,” Freddie replied.

“Y/N, are you hungry? I was thinking we could go to dinner soon,” John suggested, stopping the others from asking you more questions. You didn’t mind them, but thought it would be best to go along with Johnny.

“Yeah, actually, I am. Dinner would be great!” you replied cheerfully. “Just let me go freshen up. Where’s your bathroom?”

“Bathroom? Oh, the toilet is just through that door,” Brian replied. You walked to the door that Brian pointed to and stepped inside, closing it behind you. Taking a deep breath, you looked in the mirror and took yourself in. There wasn’t too much damage to your appearance, probably because it had only been an hour flight.

Back in the living room, the boys were quietly arguing.

As soon as you had left, Deaky had turned to Freddie and Roger, “You guys weren’t supposed to be here. I had only told her about Brian. The two of you ambushed her!” he said in a harsh whisper.

“It wasn’t my fault, Freddie’s the one that convinced me we should come,” Roger whined with a pathetic look on his face.

“Thanks, love,” Freddie said to Roger, deadpan. “Deaky, did you really expect us not to want to meet her after hearing about her for months? Plus, she seemed to do fine,” he reasoned with John.

“That is true, Deaky. She obviously knows who we are by the way she reacted to that one,” Brian said, pointing to Roger. To that, Roger made a confused face and was ignored.

“Yes, when did she figure it out? Did she tell you right away?” Freddie asked, intrigued.

“Well, apparently she saw me holding my sign for her and recognized me as both the John she had been writing and the John from Queen. She was kind of angry I didn't tell her. Said I gave her a heart attack. I shouldn’t have thought she was going to try to manipulate me,” He said, shooting a surly look at Roger.

“What’s that look for? All of us had agreed that was best,” Roger replied, trying to defend himself.

“Whatever, at least she’s okay now. Just try not to be too ridiculous, you guys,” Deaky said, addressing them all but still only looking at Roger.

Freddie and Brian nodded in agreement as Roger threw his arms up in exasperation. Just as they did, you walked out of the bathroom and they all full-stopped and looked at you. You felt the heat rising to your cheeks and looked down as you stepped over to Johnny.

“Are you ready, Y/N?” Johnny said, looking you over with a smile. You nodded so he continued, “Okay, guys, see you later.”

“Bye, Y/N!” the three said in unison, making you laugh as you waved goodbye. As Johnny closed the door behind you, you could hear the faint sounds of bickering and accusations.

“So, where are we going?” you asked happily. While you wanted to get to know the other boys, you were really excited to spend time with Johnny.

“I thought I would take you to the ultimate British food stop for your first meal in England,” he said, still not letting you in on where.

“Which is…” you prompted.

“A secret! If I tell you, it won’t be a surprise,” he said, smiling at you and bumping your shoulder with his own.

“Oh alright,” you agreed, laughing at his actions. It was mid-afternoon by now, reaching 5:00. A bit early for dinner, but Johnny must have assumed you’d be hungry now since in Tournai you were an hour ahead. He was right, and you were happy he would be so thoughtful. After walking for ten minutes while making idle chit chat, Johnny stopped suddenly while you were mid-sentence.

“So, I had to go to my hometown and my high school just to-- Why’d you stop?” you asked, perplexed.

“I just realized we walked right past the place,” he admitted, looking a little bashful. “Sorry, I must have been distracted.”

You giggled and walked back to him. “That’s alright. You were just caught up in my wondrous storytelling,” you joked, and reached up to touch his upper arm to reassure him.

He looked quickly down at your hand then back to your eyes before saying, “Yeah, caught up…” in a soft voice, not finishing the sentence and making you question what exactly he was caught up in. You pushed the thought from your mind and started walking, slowly so he could lead the way back.

This time, he stopped more slowly, gesturing to the place in front of you two as your final destination. It was a tiny, old, shed-looking place. It was no wonder you had walked by it the first time. But when Johnny led you in, you instantly saw why he would like it. It was cozy, with warm lighting, a friendly atmosphere, and the delicious smell of fried food permeating the air.

He led you to the bar style counter and you two sat down on adjacent stools. An older man with greying hair and a long white beard walked up behind the counter and greeted Johnny.

“Deacon, good to see ya! Who’s this lovely young lady here?” he asked, smiling and looking at you.

“This is my friend, Y/N. She’s from the States so I thought I’d bring her here for her first taste of British food,” John told him as you smiled back at the man. “Y/N, this is Jimmy. He’s the owner and a wonderful chef.”

“Nice to meet you, Jimmy. Can I ask chef of what? Deacon here still hasn’t told me what we’re going to eat,” you said conspiratorially.

“That’s easy! It’s my specialty, and the only thing we sell here, fish and chips!” Jimmy replied with a laugh and grin.

“Well then, I can’t wait,” you told him. Jimmy left to go back in the kitchen and you saw Johnny mindlessly spinning back and forth slowly on his stool.

On his next spin towards you, you reached out and grabbed the stool on either side of his legs, ignoring how the warmth of his thighs made you feel. He jumped slightly and stopped spinning, mainly due to your hands keeping him there. Avoiding looking at your hands, he looked at your face with a questioning look.

“Why are you spinning? Bored of me already?” you joked and let go of his stool.

He cleared his throat then said, “No, um, just thinking. Thinking about the rest of the week,” he covered.

“I meant to talk to you about that. I don’t expect you to take me around all the time, I know you have to work and have other commitments.”

“No, of course I’m showing you around the whole time. I’m not going to let you have a second without me. By the end of the week, you’ll be sick of me,” he quipped. “Besides, I was trying to think of what you would like to see and what I want to show you. Do you have anything in particular you want to see?”

“Oh, I really want to see Buckingham palace, and Big Ben, and the Thames. And I’d love to see the National Gallery. I know they might be kind of touristy, but--”

“No, no, we’ll go anywhere you want to,” he reassured.

“Thank you, that’s sweet of you,” you replied. He blushed in return but you missed it, as Jimmy came back at the same time with your two baskets of food. Immediately your mouth watered at the look and smell and you couldn’t wait to dive in. You saw a little cup of white, lumpy sauce and were confused. You looked at Jimmy and said, “Do you guys have ketchup over here?”

Johnny looked at you with a funny face but Jimmy reached below the counter and said, “You’re lucky, I think we’re the only place that does for miles. My brother married an American girl so we always have some on hand. Enjoy.”

You turned your attention to your food but saw that cup of sauce again and asked John, “What’s this sauce?”

“It’s tartar sauce, for dipping the fish in. It’s good, you should try it,” he replied.

You hesitated but took one of the pieces of breaded fish and dipped the tiniest bit into the sauce, causing Johnny to laugh. You took the bite and hummed in satisfaction, “That’s actually really good! I’m surprised.”

You liked the tartar sauce but decided you wanted to eat it with ketchup as well. You squirted some on your plate and dipped your fish into it, taking the bite and nodding appreciatively. “This is so good too. Johnny, you have to try this.”

He made a face in response, “I’ve never even heard of ketch-up or whatever it is. I’m not too keen to try it with something already as perfect as this.”

“No, come on, you have to try. I tried your tartar sauce,” you persuaded. He sighed and nodded, ready to reach for the bottle and squeeze a tiny amount on his plate, but you moved first. You took the piece already in your hand, dunked it in the ketchup, held it up to his face and said, smiling, “Open up!”

He paused for just a moment and then took the bite, letting you feed him as he looked you in the eye. The smile fell from your face as you felt the intimacy of the action, causing your heart rate to increase and your breathing to get heavier. Luckily for you, he closed his eyes, missing the brunt of your reaction as he relished the taste of the fried fish and ketchup.

“Okay, you’re right. I think you’ve just converted me. That stuff is amazing,” he admitted, talking through a mouthful.

“Always am,” you replied cheerily to both of your laughs.

_____

The dinner continued with you two laughing and talking with Jimmy as well as just with each other.

Walking back to his apartment, he noticed your shiver and gave you his jacket. He wrapped it around your shoulders with care for what you thought was an extra second, but that might have just been your mind playing tricks on you.

You got to his apartment and walked in to find it empty and silent.

“This is a first,” he joked, turning on the lights. It was only 9:00 pm (admittedly, you guys stayed at the fish & chips shop way longer than necessary), but you were starting to get tired. The travel and excitement of the day had taken its toll on you and you were ready for bed.

You looked around, seeing your bag still by the door and said, “Johnny, I’m getting kind of tired, I think I’ll go to bed.” He just nodded in reply so you continued, “Where is it I’m sleeping?”

“Oh, right, that’s important to know,” he said, hopping up from where he had sat down on the couch. He walked over to a door in a hallway that was just off the living room, you following him, and declared while opening the door, “Right here!”

You stepped inside as he reached around you to turn on the light. Eyes adjusting, the room came into focus and you stopped. It was his room, or at least you assumed it was considering it was filled with personal items including a bass. You started saying, “Johnny--”

“Don’t worry, Y/N. I’m not staying in here, I’ll be sleeping on the couch, so you’ll have my room all to yourself,” he said, proud of himself for thinking ahead.

“I’m still worried,” you replied.

He frowned and asked, “Well, why would that be?”

You scoffed and answered, “Because I don’t want to take your room from you and make you sleep on a little couch. You shouldn’t give up your room, your bed for me. I’ll take the couch; I’m shorter anyway.”

“Of course I should be, you’re my guest. Besides, I won’t have it any other way. If you try to sleep on that couch I’ll just sleep on the floor until you stay in here,” he challenged.

You sighed and realized there was no way you could convince him otherwise. “Alright, I’ll stay in here, you win,” you gave up.

“Brilliant! See, this is a good thing because I went to all of this effort to make my room nice for you, and if you would have stayed on the couch, it would have gone to waste! I vacuumed, bought new sheets, stole a candle from Fred, and even dusted,” he said, pleased with himself.

“Well thank you, Johnny. That’s incredibly nice. Those things wouldn’t have been wasted, though. You could have just enjoyed doing them for yourself,” you said logically.

“Uh-uh. I wouldn’t have appreciated it. Much less thanked me,” he replied and you laughed. He decided to leave so you could get ready for bed but before he did, you reached out your arms. He hugged you and for the second time that day, the two of you breathed in one another as subtlely as possible.

You turned your head to his ear and whispered, “Good night, Johnny,” releasing him from your grasp.

He shivered and tried to pass it off as a stretch before saying good night back and closing the door behind him. On opposite sides of the door, the two of you couldn’t see dreamy looks in each other’s eyes.

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ehc-on-ao3 · 5 years

Text

Silent Bay, a Life Is Strange horror AU

(My brain just wouldn’t leave video game horror AUs alone, apparently. So here's something partially inspired by Silent Hill and Fatal Frame.)

WARNING: long post because I hate the Read More thing.

Max Caulfield. Average student. Talented as fuck photographer. Returns to Arcadia Bay to find her best friend, Chloe, who she was forced to abandon when her family moved to Seattle. Sounds simple, right? Except, her parents are dead-set against it. Like, insanely so. Way more than parents being protective, at least, that's what Max thinks. Still, Max is resourceful. So, one morning, instead of her school supplies, Max stuffs her messenger bag full of supplies, camera included, and after getting dropped off at her high school, sneaks away, uses cash to buy a bus ticket, and makes her way South. According to her phone, the trip should take around 5 or so hours, more than long enough get to Arcadia Bay without her parents suspecting anything.

Strangeness #1: the bus doesn't actually go to Arcadia Bay. She has to get off at the closest stop to the town, then walk. She gets plenty of strange looks from others when she asks for directions to Arcadia Bay, enough to make her feel weirded out, but after a quick meal, she starts on her way. She's way too close to Chloe to turn back now.

Outside the diner, a kind man offers her a ride. His name is Samuel and he works as a janitor at Blackwell Academy, Arcadia Bay's private school. Lovely campus with lots of friendly animals, like squirrels, birds, and deer. When Max asks about the students and teachers, Samuel's answer is odd: animals have only one face and it always looks towards the light. People would do well to learn that lesson.

Samuel takes Max to Blackwell Academy and they part ways. Max is fine with her destination: since she doesn't remember much about Arcadia Bay, she decides to ask around here for clues to Chloe's whereabouts and address. Maybe she was a student here? Strangeness #2: no students are in the main building. No faculty or staff, either. All the faculty doors are locked, though the classrooms are all open. Is school out already? But even if it was, why is it so empty?

Max notices a ton of Missing Person flyers around, all for one girl: Rachel Amber. Many are defaced, which saddens Max. Uncertain why, she snaps a photo of one of the flyers and puts it away, then walks outside.

Nightfall rolls around much quicker than she anticipated. As empty as the campus feels, it's downright scary now. Not to mention the fog that starts to roll in. Damn, what's with this weather? Thank dog she has her hoodie on. Max sees a nearby building that has some lights on and figures she'll investigate there, too, before trying to find a hotel but something stops her. Movement. In the thick fog. Between her and the building. Instinct has her turning away, maybe to hide in the campus building, but there's more movement coming from that building, too. She hurries to the parking lot, hoping beyond hope to find Samuel there.

Strangeness #3: Max finds Samuel's car but it's in bad shape. Flat tire, dirt covering the windows, like it hasn't been driven in months. Which is impossible since she was just in it an hour ago. But no time to think about that now. Something is approaching her. Max stumbles backwards as a misshapen figure shambles towards her. Max is freaking out when out of the blue, a beat up pickup truck barrels into the lot and brakes near Max. The driver hurries Max inside and together, they peel away.

The driver is, of course, Chloe, who is both elated and pissed that Max is here. Why the fuck did she come back to this shit hole when she actually managed to escape? Max reveals her memories are Swiss cheese (phone numbers, addresses, most everything is fragmented at best) but she never forgot Chloe. As soon as she recalled the name of her former home town, she had to come back. For her.

What happens next? I have some ideas:

Chloe reveals that she's been searching all around this fucking town for Rachel, her girlfriend. They swore to one another that they'd finally escape together but she disappeared 6 months ago. Everyone else may have given up on her but Chloe knows, just knows, that Rachel's still around somewhere.

Max withdraws her photo of Rachel's missing person poster and, to her horror, realizes the photo is different. Rachel's face is crying, desperate, and all the text has been replaced by nonsensical phrases, though one thing does stand out: RACHEL IN THE DARK ROOM. She and Chloe are freaked but this is also a possible clue. Chloe begs for Max's help, who agrees.

The next morning, Chloe takes Max to Two Whales for breakfast. They eat, talk a bit more. Max reveals that her parents fought tooth and nail to keep her from coming back, though they never explained their reasons. Max suddenly realizes that she hasn't received a call or a text from them and checks her phone. Strangeness #4: there's nothing from her parents. At all. But three messages from an unknown number. Except they're all blank. Max, remembering what happened with the poster, snaps a photo of the messages. Once it's developed, both Chloe and Max are shocked by what it reveals.

Chloe takes Max to the junkyard, hoping that Max's magic camera will reveal more clues about Rachel's whereabouts. Unfortunately, an unnatural fog rolls in, plunging Chloe and Rachel's old hideout into twilight. A weird creature attacks but before they're killed, Max accidentally presses the shutter button on her camera, snapping a photo of the creature, which vanishes. The fog rapidly dissipates.

The two notice that every time they look at the photo of the creature, it shifts position. They theorize that it's trapped in the confines of the photo and is trying to find a way out. Chloe breaks out a cigarette lighter and burns the photo to ash, destroying the creature. Both feel something in the environment itself shift.

At Max's suggestion, the two head to Blackwell. Max hopes to snap some photos and possibly get clues here. They make their way to the dorms (the building that had lights on the previous evening) and bump into Kate, who seems to know more about what going on in Arcadia Bay. The three talk and share info. Max and Chloe ask her to join them in their search and for her own protection but she declines. She has to stay: her faith is the only reason the dorm is safe and she must pray nightly to keep the creatures at bay. The other students rely on her for their continued survival. When Max asks how long she's been doing this, Kate reveals she doesn't remember.

Night falls and it's too late to head back to Chloe's house, so they have to stay in the dorms with Kate and the others. Strangeness #5: the scattered students [insert your faves here] all remember going to class like everything is normal, but once the final bell rings at 4:00 PM, they suddenly recall where they are. None of them remember how long they've been in Arcadia Bay or Blackwell but do know that there used to be quite a few more students than there is now, presumably taken/eaten by those creatures.

Everyone has tried to leave at some point but because they're stuck in that weird time looped amnesia, they never remember to try sooner than 4:00 PM and can't make it out of the town's borders before night falls. Kate is partially immune to this effect but instead of trying to escape, opts to keep the dorms stocked on supplies as best she can throughout the day, knowing that no one can do so in the evening without getting attacked. Thankfully, since that weird loop also includes lunch in the cafeteria, no one is in danger of starving.

Max snaps a photo of the whole group of students/survivors. The resulting photo is...

When Max reveals she's originally from Arcadia Bay but moved to Seattle, it shocks the fuck out of everyone. She escaped? HOW?! She doesn't know. She doesn't remember. But when she says she's come back for Chloe, everyone laments, with a couple of people raging. Max is stuck now. She has a reason to stay in Arcadia Bay, so now she's stuck. Chloe has a reason so stay, Rachel, so she's stuck. Same with Kate. Same with [insert people here] for their individual reasons. And whatever is keeping them from accomplishing their goals is preventing them from escaping. A couple of them are about to get violent before Kate shouts for their attention. She needs silence for her prayers; otherwise, they're all dead. Everyone goes quiet and, as Kate prays, most of them try to get some sleep.

(If this were a horror movie, monsters would break in right about now and kill many of them, with the survivors blaming Max, then probably try to capture her to sacrifice to the town for their own survival. However, this isn't a horror movie, so we'll kindly skip that part.)

Perhaps there's a moment here where one of them approaches Max while everyone else is sleeping and asks her to get a message to her family when she manages to escape again. She's convinced she's not going to make it. But Max, she's done so once. She'll do it again.

The next morning, Max and Chloe awake to find it's just them and Kate. Everyone else is already in class. No, it doesn't make sense because it's too early for classes, and Saturday, but Arcadia Bay's doesn't follow logic. She cautions the two not to enter the main campus during “school hours” as they'll likely get shuffled into class by well-meaning teachers to not be tardy, and find themselves actual students, trapped in Blackwell's vicious cycle. Chloe jokes that’s a fate worse than death.

Max reveals her photo of Rachel to Kate, and also explains how she destroyed one of the creatures earlier. There is a way to fight back, after all. Kate is elated as this will give the others hope and promises to look for another instant film camera as they already know phone cameras don't work. The two exchange phone #s to keep in contact.

Kate goes her own way while Max and Chloe continue their investigation. Max snaps a photo of Rachel's old room but it reveals nothing. She snaps another photo of the boys' dorm hall and notices something off about one of the doors. They go to investigate Room 111 and are attacked again by a creature within the room. They're able to banish it as well, though Chloe is hurt in the process.

The two search the room for physical clues and Max snaps a photo for metaphysical ones as well. They uncover a name, Prescott, the apparent previous occupant of the room. Max's photo isn't of the room at all but appears blank. It's only when they go outside into the sunlight that the photo changes, revealing the exterior of an old, dilapidated barn.

Chloe takes them back to her house, where she breaks out a first aid kit to treat her injuries. Max helps. They talk about everything they've found so far. Chloe takes something for the pain and passes out.

Max texts Kate and explains what happened and what they found. Kate replies that room 111 belonged to Nathan Prescott and should've been one of the student survivors but now doesn't recall seeing him around. She also recalls there was a huge party at the Prescott barn about 6 months ago. Max asks for the location. Kate promises to ask around and tell her ASAP.

Afterwards, Max checks her phone. Still nothing from her parents. But texting does work, right? She texts them instead but receives no response.

Max has a strange thought and texts the unknown number, asking for directions to the Prescott barn. She receives an empty message in response. Max tries to take a photo but is out of film. Thank God it isn't an emergency! She puts in a fresh pack of film and takes the photo, which turns out to be numbers 45.496698 and -123.894625, which doesn't mean anything to Max. She texts these numbers to Kate, explaining it might have something to do with the barn but doesn't know what they mean. Kate doesn't know, either, but she'll ask Warren or Brooke after class, as they might know.

Near 4:00, Chloe wakes up. She's upset that Max let her sleep so long but Max tells her she was hurt and needed the rest. Kate texts back: the numbers are coordinates. Max pulls up the numbers on a map app but it refuses to load. Chloe tries and gets something. Max quickly snaps a photo with her camera. A moment later, Chloe's phone sparks, smokes, and dies. Chloe and Max are shocked but Max's photo has the map. Chloe can get them there.

Chloe rushes to leave right away. Max tries to stop her, saying it's close to dark and really dangerous. Chloe is too close to finding Rachel, though, and is unable to wait. Max tells her she only has one camera and only so much film left. Chloe pauses, then bolts upstairs, returning a moment later with her father's old instant camera and a spare pack of film. They're as armed as they're going to be and Chloe isn't going to wait another day, so Max joins her in the truck and together, they race to the Prescott barn.

What happens next? I have no idea. Hadn't thought that far ahead. But, food for thought:

The people of Arcadia Bay are also stuck in a loop, the ones that are left, anyway. They go about the echoes of their former lives and, unless someone thinks about it really hard, no one notices. This is why Joyce and David never appear at Chloe's house. Joyce is always found at the diner, David always at Blackwell. Always.

Who or what was Samuel? A fragment of the town wanting to snare Max back in? A spirit trying to warn her of the dangers of the night? Both?

How did Max escape? Why don't her parents text her? Did she actually escape?

Why did Chloe show up exactly on time, when Max needed help the most?

Chloe said Rachel disappeared 6 months ago. There was a party at the barn 6 months ago. But time is weird in Arcadia Bay. Was it really 6 months? Was it much longer? Was it much shorter?

What do Max's other photos reveal?

Who or what is Kate? Just a selfless Christian who wants to do the right thing? A literal angel?

What do Chloe and Max find at the barn?

What is Rachel's role, if any, in the horror that is Arcadia Bay?

Once Rachel is rescued, can everyone escape?

What happens if Max snaps a photo of the campus building and burns that photo? What if she snaps a photo of the entire town from the lighthouse and burns that?

At the end, Max takes a celebratory photo of herself, Chloe, and Rachel. What does it reveal? Does she show it to the others or does she hide it?

I give permission to anyone out there to write this if you so desire. I doubt I’m getting to it this year.

#Life Is Strange #fanfic #writing prompt #mywork #Silent Bay #horror AU #Max Caulfield #Chloe Price #Rachel Amber #Kate Marsh #Samuel Taylor #Silent Hill #Fatal Frame

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