#i once again only realized it’s his birthday because a server I’m in brought up it’s appreciate a dragon day hhhchchchc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years

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76. it’s my birthday and you just fucking ruined my party and I don’t even know you

Danbrey, sfw or nsfw, please!

Here you go! I went SFW on this one

“Wow, dude, this is so fancy.” Jake takes in the dining room of Yosemite Lodge, “look, napkins!”

“Jake, we have cloth napkins back home.” Dani smiles fondly; while she’s more interested in the location and the decor, she agrees with her brothers overall enthusiasm.

The rest of Amnesty Lodge, where Dani lives and works, pooled their resources to surprise her with a weekend trip to Yosemite for her twenty-fifth birthday. She would have been happy camping, but they even went to the trouble of booking rooms in the main lodge and scheduling her a birthday dinner in the restaurant that looks out onto the valley.

Mama whistles at the menu from her seat at the head of the table, “damn, this is a good lookin dinner.”

Dani picks up the single sheet of paper, the silver writing informing her the meal with consist of a summer salad, shrimp scampie, and a strawberry rhubarb tart for dessert. When she glances across the table, Barclay is smiling down into his water glass.

“Oh my god, did you request a specific menu just for me?”

Her friend nods, blushing a little, “Head chef is an old friend from my line cook days.”

“Aw, you guys.” She sips the fancy cider Barclay ordered for the table, “you didn’t have to do all this.”

“You ain’t had a real party in years; seemed time to fix that.” Mama’s about to say something else when the fire alarm blares through the room and a server asks that everyone please exit through the side doors into the courtyard.

“Probably just a false alarm.” Barclay leans against a decorative rock.

“Uh, dudes? I smell smoke.”

Dani cranes her neck, tracks the path of the curling smoke through the lights from the windows to the main meeting room on the bottom floor of the hotel. A woman about her age, dressed entirely in red and black with, “The Lady Flame” emblazoned on her sparkly jacket, is talking and gesturing rapidly with disgruntled staff.

Two minutes later, the same woman steps onto the lawn with a sheepish smile.

“Hi everyone! It’s safe to go back in now. I, um, there was a tiny accident with some flashpaper. I think. Anyway, point is, I’m super sorry and there’s no more fire so please come enjoy my show. Oh, but, um, we have to move to the dining room due to some, um, ash.”

Just as she says this, one of the servers whispers in Barclays ear.

“Fuck. Sorry gang, sounds like we gotta postpone until tomorrow; whatever party booked ms fireball over there is gonna take up the whole restaurant.”

Dani sighs, resigning herself to a night of vending machine dinner as they head back inside. Then a hand settles on her arm and she’s locking eyes with the person who just ruined her evening.

“Hey, I always ask the cutest girl in the audience to be my assistant for the next bit. Do you want to-”

She pulls her arm away, “Yeah, hard pass, I’m not in whatever group decided to book you. I’m the person who’s birthday is getting turfed for your party.”

The magician cringes, “EEsh, I’m so sorry, I’ll, um, I’ll just.” She steps back, eyes glued to her black boots. As Dani continues into the lodge, she swears she hears the same voice go, “aw beans.”

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The spring sunshine feels perfect, the breeze is gentle, and there are literal bluebirds calling around her. Dani feels like a dang disney princess as she naps on a rock near one of the meadows.

Something--a chipmunk, she assumes--munches the grass below her.

“Dr Harris Bonkers, no! This is a national park and I’m not letting my only son go to jail for vandalism.”

Dani rolls onto her side in time to see the magician from last night scooping a massive, orange rabbit from the ground. When she straightens enough to notice she’s not alone, the woman freezes.

“Um. Hi. Again.”

“Hi.” Not feeling like rehashing last night, she studies the rabbit, “should he really be running around out here?”

“Not even remotely. He was supposed to stay in my room, but he gnawed his way out of his carrier, hopped onto the windowsill, and decided to bounce when he saw all the plants out here.” She cautiously sits on the edge of the rock, rabbit in her lap, “I really am sorry about last night. I never used to have problems during my shows, but lately it’s like my flashpaper has a freaking mind of its own. I was kinda hoping it wouldn’t screw with anybody’s plans but mine.”

“It’s fine.” Dani shrugs, “we’re just going to do a dinner re-do tonight.”

The woman bites a matte black lip, “Could I, um, make it up to you?”

“How?”

“Well, it’s your birthday, right? You’re supposed to spend your birthday doing things you like, so I could, like, keep you company while you do them?”

It would be nice to have a hiking buddy. Mama is taking a well-deserved nap, Barclay is off for a swim, and Jake found some rock climbers to hang with. And while the Lady Flame looked good last night, today she’s downright gorgeous. The dyed-red streaks in her curly, black hair, the freckles, black shorts that make her butt look incredible, all of it adds up to someone Dani wouldn’t mind spending the day with.

“Do you have shoes you can hike in?”

She kicks up one leg, showing off her Doc Martens, “I once walked five miles in these with no problems.”

“Great. Let’s get the doctor” she rubs the rabbit’s ears, “somewhere safe and get on the trail.”

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

The hike’s only three and a half miles, but it’s taking them a long time to complete it. Not because they’re slow, but because Aubrey (as the Lady Flame calls herself) keeps stopping to look at or point out any interesting thing that catches her eye. It’s adorable.

Dani likes when she points out plants, because then she can show off a little.

“Dang, you really know your plants.” Aubrey stoops to take a picture of some Scarlet Monkeyflower.

“I run the teaching garden out back of the Lodge. Uh, Amnesty Lodge, where I live, not this one.”

“Coooool. I keep thinking about making Dr. Harris Boners a little garden when I finally find a place to stay put for awhile, but everything is always about how to keep bunnies out of your garden.”

“I mean, they can really trash it if you’re not careful.”

“I believe it, Dr. Harris Bonkers can take out a whole patch of rug in, like, ten minutes.”

“Herbs would probably be okay, clover too. I guess it depends on how much space you have.”

“Probably not much” Aubrey holds out a hand to help her across a creek, “traveling magicians don’t make much.”

Their talk turns to Aubrey’s life on the road, and her various misadventures trying to transport a fifteen pound rabbit on public transit. When they reach the waterfall that marks the trails end, they slip off their shoes and socks to dip their feet in the nearby pond, shoulders touching as they compare notes on growing up in sometimes stressful family situations.

It’s well after lunchtime when they get back, so they sit in the meadow and split a bag of chips, shooing away several overly ambitious squirrels. Mama joins them for a bit, and Dani smiles when she notices how quickly the older woman takes to Aubrey. Mama can never turn down a stray.

Dani’s already scheming for how to spend the last day of her vacation with Aubrey when the magician turns down her invitation to dinner. She’s a little disappointed, but Aubrey promises she’ll see her later.

Her birthday dinner redux is halfway into its second course when the lights at the front of the room brighten and the ones above her dim.

“And now, as an added, surprise treat for this evening's meal, the magnificent Lady Flame is here to dazzle you all with her astounding feats of magic!” The server at the edge of the room gives a thumbs up and Aubrey bounds into view, smile glittering brighter than her outfit.

To Dani’s delight, Aubrey is an amazing magician; her tricks are interesting, her patter is the same funny, energetic pace that their conversations were this afternoon, and her assistant is adorable. When she declares she needs a volunteer for her next trick, she’s holding her hand out to Dani before anyone else can raise theirs.

The trick turns out to be picking cards and showing them to the audience, though Dani notices Aubrey devotes as much sleight of hand to brushing their fingers together as she does to her act.

“And now, esteemed audience, I will produce a flower from my lovely assistant's hair!”

Dani smiles, then claps along with everyone else as Aubrey produces a spring of Larkspur from thin air. Literally, Dani cannot for the life of her tell where she was hiding it. Or how she was able to get what Dani said was her favorite flower on such short notice.

Aubrey finishes up her act (and doesn’t set anything on fire) to thunderous applause, and Dani spots Mama leaning over to whisper something to Barclay, who nods thoughtfully. It’s only after the magician has taken her last bow that Dani has a horrible realization; Aubrey went to all that trouble to make her birthday dinner memorable, and she didn’t get to eat any of it.

Her white sandals sink into the carpet as she carries a plate down to Aubrey’s room. When her new friend opens the door, she’s between worlds; sparkly jacket on top, red pajama pants on the bottom.

“I brought you some cake. Or, uh, I guess it’s a tart.” She holds out the plate and Aubrey takes it, cheeks going pink, “since you didn’t get the rest of the dinner.”

“Thanks” Aubrey steps back so Dani can join her in the room, “it’s chill that I didn’t get to join you all; I wanted to make up for ruining your dinner last night.”

“You already did way more than that. Aubrey, this was the nicest day I’ve had in months, and most of that is because I got to spend it with you.”

“I dunno, feel weird getting cake from a thing I crashed.” Aubrey is fidgeting with her bracelets, blushing harder every time she looks up and finds Dani still smiling at her.

“Can I give you something else instead?” Dani takes a half-step forward.

“Sure! What-” Aubrey’s words fade into a little sigh as Dani wraps her arms over her shoulders. Then her back bumps into the nightstand as Aubrey throws herself into a kiss.

“Hey” Dani teases, nibbling her ear as Aubrey holds her tighter, “you messed up my big reveal.”

“Aw dang, guess I’ll have to make it up to you.” Aubrey slips her hands down to the small of her back, “how does even more making out sound?”

Dani pulls her towards the bed, heart buzzing with warmth at the sight of her smile and the touch of her hands, “like the best birthday gift ever.”

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty #meet ugly

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seasonsofeverlark · 3 years

Text

Brother Trouble

Author: @eiramrelyat

Prompt: Autumn meet! funny everlark with smut pls🥺 [Submitted by anonymous]

Rating: E

Author’s Notes: Thank you to @mandelion82 for helping me bring some funny moments into this drabble. Thank you @jroseley for proofreading and helping me add the final touches. And finally, thank you anon for the prompt, and I hope I have delivered with the smut. Enjoy!

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Katniss had never intended for it to go as long as it did.

It was only supposed to be one drunken mistake during the Odairs’ New Year’s party.

Peeta was her brother’s best friend, and somewhere through the haze of lust, she knew it was wrong. Like she was somehow crossing an invisible boundary. Not to mention that he generally acted like she was nothing more than Gale’s annoying little sister.

He’d always give her the cold shoulder when she’d walk into the room. She never knew why. Katniss had been nothing short of decent to him since they met. And it usually never bothered her, knowing that people didn’t like her. But it annoyed Katniss that Peeta didn’t have a reason for disliking her, other than her simply being in his presence. And definitely, more than it should. They even got into an argument about it once⎯ an argument she started out of pure frustration.

After what seemed like months of bickering and trying to figure him out, she finally gave up and resolved that they’ll never be decent to each other.

How wrong she’d been.

The second time they had sex happened after one too many glasses of wine as they protested Valentine’s Day together. They were in her apartment watching corny romance movies, of all things. One minute led to another until they were a sweaty heap in the middle of the living room floor. She told herself it wouldn’t happen again after that.

But she broke her word after Finnick’s birthday party in April.

There were plenty of single guys from the fire station to choose from that evening, yet she’d somehow found herself in Peeta’s bed by the end of the night. Letting him whisper filthy things into her ear as he brought her over the edge three times.

When it happened again during the summer, she had developed a bit of a crush on Peeta. They were also sober this time, so she should have attempted to hold back her urges. But she didn’t. In fact, she made the first move by climbing into his lap on the couch in her living room.

He had frozen briefly, for every encounter before that moment never happened on purpose. Katniss remembered her heart felt like it would race out of her chest, but she was determined and dipped her head down to capture his lips with hers. Then, without question, he had picked her up and carried her to her room.

After that night, they couldn’t stop. Every time they were alone, they couldn’t keep their hands off of each other.

Then, there was the issue with Gale.

Although he wasn’t entirely clueless, he noticed that Katniss and Peeta no longer fought when they were in the same room. And then there was that time Gale caught Peeta flirting with Katniss during a summer barbeque. Katniss feared what Gale might do to Peeta if she left the room since he tended to be… irrational at times. Like that time Cato Smith pretended he was going to kiss her in the seventh grade, and Gale popped his bike tires. Cato had to walk eight blocks home that day.

So she quickly tried to distract Gale with⎯ something.

Sports, maybe? Whatever she did, she knew she saved Peeta from suffering an unfortunate fate.

She hated keeping Gale in the dark, but it also annoyed her because they were all adults. She could see whoever she pleased without her brother’s permission. Still, she knew it wouldn’t go over so smoothly in Peeta’s case.

Therefore, she chose the farthest seat from Peeta during Gale and Madge’s rehearsal dinner. She didn’t want Gale to grow any more suspicious than he already was. Unfortunately for her, this left her sitting next to Gale’s slimy friend, Marvel.

Madge had insisted that she wear a dress, and Katniss regretted it for several reasons. One, they were nearing the end of autumn⎯ the high for the day barely capping thirty-five degrees. Second, Marvel’s heavy stare down the front of her dress had her skin crawling all through dinner.

What a creep.

Meanwhile, Peeta sat next to Madge’s cousin across the room. A beautiful model, no less. Cathy? No. Cashmere?

Katniss always prided herself on never being the jealous type. Still, it set her teeth on edge as she watched the perky blonde continuously place her perfectly manicured hand on Peeta’s arm. Apparently, the well-trimmed dark suit attracted more than Katniss’s attention. And Peeta entertained the woman by leaning over to whisper something in her ear. When a twinkling laugh followed, Katniss tried to not let her annoyance show. Though, she might have stabbed into her chicken more aggressively than necessary.

Honestly, she had no reason to be jealous. They’d never talked about the exclusivity of their… arrangement, so Peeta could flirt with whoever he pleased.

Still, it bothered her, and she had her crush to blame.

Peeta looked up, then, and caught her staring, one of his eyebrows arched in amusement. Red-faced, Katniss glanced away from him and turned toward Annie. She needed some fresh air and an escape from Marvel. If she sat there any longer, she’d surely pour the rest of her wine into his lap. “If the server comes back, can you tell him I want cheesecake? I’m going to run to the bathroom.”

Annie smiled and nodded. “Yeah, okay. Try not to get lost along the way.” Then, as Katniss pushed in her chair, she added with a smirk, “but I’m sure a certain firefighter wouldn’t be opposed to saving you.” Annie was one of the few that knew about her and Peeta.

Katniss rolled her eyes, her face growing warmer, and turned to weave through the banquet tables toward the venue hall entrance. She had no clue where to go once she was in the giant building’s entryway, and she ended up wandering through the halls until she could find a restroom.

It was a beautiful venue nestled in the middle of a vast apple orchard. The manor was originally built by a couple from France and showcased a variety of chateau-esque architecture. From the conical roofs to the pilasters and the motifs delicately etched into the ceilings and walls. It perfectly fits Madge’s princess-style wedding.

After what seemed like the sixth hallway, she finally found the restrooms near an empty conference room. She reached for the door handle but jumped as a hand wrapped around her wrist. Katniss frowned when she turned around to find Peeta scoping the hallway.

“Peeta? What are you-”

“Shh.” He pulled her away from the restrooms and led Katniss toward another door in an alcove at the end of the hall. Peeta opened it. “In here.” He ushered her inside the small coat closet and shut and locked the door behind her.

Katniss huffed, crossing her arms over her chest while Peeta tested the door handle. She could faintly smell perfume (Cashmere’s most likely) on his jacket, which brought back her annoyance from earlier. “Would you mind telling me why we’re hiding in a closet?”

When he decided that the door was secure, he faced her. “Because I needed to do this.” Before she had time to ask any more questions, Peeta cupped her face between his hands and kissed her. She squeaked in surprise, but Peeta swallowed the sound with eager kisses.

While his hands roamed down her sides to grip her backside, his tongue dipped into her mouth to run across the roof and over her teeth. A low moan escaped her, and Peeta followed it with a groan, his hands pulling her tighter against him. They were so close that Katniss could feel the heat from his body bleeding through the front of her dress.

She trembled with the sudden rush of warmth that flared in her pelvis and reached up to grip the front of his suit jacket to steady herself. But a rustling outside the door brought her back to the present, and she pulled away, her chest rising and falling with labored breaths.

The idea that they could be caught at any moment had alarms going off in her head, warning her they should stop.

She tilted her head back against the wall as Peeta’s mouth mapped a wet trail down the side of her neck. “Peeta. We shouldn’t-”

Katniss’s voice broke off with a breathy gasp as he pressed his thigh between her legs. Her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head, and her fingers tightened in his jacket. His trousers were rough against the front of her underwear, creating friction she didn’t realize she needed.

“I couldn’t stand the way Marvel was staring at you,” he growled into her skin. His breath, harsh and hot against the side of her neck, made her head spin. Then his teeth grazed at her pulse, causing her hips to twitch involuntarily against the bulging tent in his trousers. “Katniss,” he breathed, resting his forehead upon her collarbone. “And when I saw him stand up after you left, I had to…” Peeta trailed off, not finishing his sentence.

Wait. He was… jealous? For some reason, the idea made her stomach do a somersault.

She gently pushed at his shoulders, forcing him to look up at her. “Did you think Marvel and I left to fool around?” When he didn’t answer right away, she continued. “You know I can’t stand him, right?”

His lipstick-stained lips quirked up into a very brief smile. “I guess I made an ass out of myself."

Katniss shrugged one shoulder. “It’s okay, I’m just slightly repulsed that you think I’d hook up with Marvel of all people.”

He chuckled and pulled away from her, then placed his hands respectively at her waist. "We can go back to dinner if you want? You should go first, though. I- uh,” he cleared his throat, reaching down to adjust himself, “I need a minute.”

Katniss debated this for a second. Talking about Marvel had dampened the mood, but thinking about Peeta masturbating alone in this closet… the thought stirred something inside her. Surely they hadn’t been gone that long, so what were a few extra minutes going to hurt?

Instead of leaving as she should have, Katniss tugged on his tie and pulled him down to press her lips to his. Peeta groaned softly as she sucked his bottom lip into her mouth, and he slanted his mouth over hers to deepen the kiss.

He brought his right hand up to tangle in her hair at the nape of her neck, loosening the low bun that Madge spent an hour to create. But she didn’t care. Not at the moment, anyway. She was too aware of his other hand playing with one of the narrow straps of her dress.

Slowly, he pushed it down her shoulder until it fell softly against her elbow and exposed her left breast. She moaned as his thumb ran across her pebbled nipple. Once. Twice. Each time sending a shiver down her spine. Then he finally palmed her breast with his warm hand, and Peeta’s name fell off of her tongue in a desperate plea for more.

He smiled against her lips. “You have to be quiet,” he whispered before dipping his head down to take the pert nipple into his mouth. She muffled her cry against the back of her hand, while the other found purchase in his short curls. He let out soft, pleased sounds from the back of his throat as Katniss tugged and smoothed her fingers through his hair.

Peeta pushed the rest of her dress out of the way and moved to give her other breast equal attention, alternating between teeth, lips, and tongue. Katniss started to squirm, shifting her hips in search of relief⎯ as much as she wanted Peeta to continue his attention to her chest, she needed… more.

Her hand slithered between their bodies to cup him through his trousers. He jerked at her touch and released her nipple from his mouth with a hiss.

“Shit."

He growled her name, the sound sending a pulse of heat straight between her legs, then he covered her mouth with his. The kiss felt more urgent this time, more teeth than tongue, and his hips steadily ground into the palm of her hand. Katniss’s eyes fluttered closed as he continued to grope her breasts, his fingers rubbing and tugging at the sound of her gasps.

Slowly, the closet filled with their heated breaths, the smell of arousal, and Peeta’s intoxicating cologne. It almost made her light-headed.

Her hands moved to make quick work of the buckle on his belt and pulled him out of his boxers. Then Peeta picked her up and pinned her against the wall behind her. Her legs wrapped around his waist while she gripped his broad shoulders to hold on, but she practically arched out of his grasp as his hands carded over the tops of her thighs. Finger traveling higher and higher, pushing her short black cocktail dress up until it bunched in a silky pile at her waist.

Peeta’s knuckles pressed over the embarrassingly wet front of her underwear, the fabric stimulating her clit deliciously. He groaned against her mouth. "Fuck, Katniss, you’re so wet.”

“Peeta, please.” She tried to keep her voice down. But she assumed whoever was near the door earlier had already heard their shuffling from inside the closet.

He reached in his back pocket for what she assumed was a condom, the sound of the foil packet being ripped, filling the closet seconds later. She watched between them in anticipation as he rolled the prophylactic down his thick length. He brushed the crotch of her underwear away with his thumb before he lined himself at her entrance.

Katniss’s head smacked against the wall with a resounding thud as he pushed into her slowly, inch by inch. Once he was fully seated inside her, they groaned simultaneously, neither of them being as quiet as they should be. At this angle, she felt full, stretched to the point of it almost being uncomfortable. But she rolled her hips in his hands with a gasp, trying to accommodate him. It’s only been a couple of weeks since they’ve last had sex, though, at that moment, it felt like months.

Peeta began to move, pulling out slowly, almost entirely, and pushing into her again. He did this two more times, then he slammed his hips into hers so suddenly that one of her heels fell off her foot and clattered to the carpeted floor. She had to bury the moan that followed into his neck.

Grunts and sighs filled the space of the closet, along with the repeated slapping sound of skin on skin. Peeta nipped and kissed a path from her shoulder up to her ear, taking her earlobe into his mouth. “God, you feel amazing,” he said thickly, and her body clenched around his cock in response, her fingers digging into his jacket.

She could feel the heat in her stomach coiling, tighter and tighter⎯ a heat that consumed her with every press of his body into hers. Her arms and thighs trembled with the effort to stay in rhythm. And she doesn’t know how to voice this, the words coming out in an incoherent jumble. “Peeta- need-” she whimpered when Peeta tilted his hips at the right angle that made him grind against her clit with every thrust. “Yes!”

He stopped, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth, his dark blue eyes watching her in a mix of amusement and desire. She panted against the back of his knuckles as an unexpected shiver of excitement traveled up her spine. Her eyelashes fluttered against the top of his hand, silently begging him to continue.

His thumb smoothed over her chin, then he snapped into her at a brutalizing pace. She was immediately thankful for his hand on her mouth as it started to become impossible to hold back her cries.

It only took several more thrusts before the heat in her core unfurled, filling her with warmth. Her walls contracted around his cock as she came; soft, muffled moans rolling off of her tongue. Peeta grunted, his frenzied thrusts faltering as her body spasmed around him. A few moments later, his brows drew together, the tell-tale sign that he was about to come.

Out of the influence of her blissful high, Katniss tilted her head and took Peeta’s thumb into her mouth. He watched her with hooded eyes, his lip curling, then she flicked her tongue against his skin. That was what undid him.

His thrusts slowed, becoming unmeasured. “Fuck,” he grunted, and she felt him pulse inside her as he emptied into the condom. After a minute, he released a satisfied sigh, his warm breath blowing across her sweaty face, then he lowered his hand from her mouth. They slumped against the wall, panting, while Peeta supported all of their weight.

Peeta, still catching his breath, pushed a loose strand from her now destroyed bun out of her face, giving her that crooked smile that made her knees weak. “I think people might have noticed our absence by now.” She laughed tiredly.

Suddenly, there was a knock on the door, and they froze. Then the person jiggled the handle. “Whoever the hell is in there, I need my jacket,” her uncle Haymitch said from the other side of the door.

Katniss’s face burned in mortification, and she hid it in Peeta’s suit jacket.

“One moment!” Peeta called out.

“For God’s sake, you better not have ruined my coat, boy,” Haymitch said before they heard him walk away.

She lifted her head, glancing over at the door. “I don’t think I’ll be able to look him in the face again.”

Peeta chuckled. “At least it was only your uncle. It could have been worse.” His words were like a bucket of ice-cold water. God, Gale could have been the one to catch them. How long have they been gone?

Katniss cleared her throat. “Uh, maybe we should go back.”

He sighed. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” When he pulled out of her, a hollowness ensued, then he helped her back to her feet. As Peeta wrapped the used condom in a piece of tissue from his pocket, Katniss tried to straighten out her dress and put her one shoe back on.

They looked like… well, like they’d been thoroughly satisfied. Peeta’s shirt had some new wrinkles in it; his once neatly gelled hair now an unruly mess against his forehead. Not that hers probably looked any better. And she was pretty sure she lost an ivory button from the back of her dress.

After finding the missing button on the floor, she reached for the door, but Peeta stopped her by holding her elbow. She turned to look up at him.

He smiled demurely. “My place, tonight?”

She bobbed her head, incapable of telling him no. “Okay,” she told him softly, then opened the door. Sure enough, Haymitch was on the other side, a glare cemented on his face.

“Well, it’s about time! I thought you two got lost in there.”

Katniss covered her flushed face with her hand and bee-lined it toward the women’s bathroom. She really hoped her uncle knew how to keep his mouth shut… However, luck was not on her side that night. Because as she was about to walk into the restrooms, there, near the empty conference room, stood her slack-jawed brother⎯ his eyes watching the closet she and Peeta just exited from.

Well shit.

#everlark #everlark fanfiction #autumn #autumn 2020 #eiramrelyat #submission #prompt

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kandoesfanfics-writes · 4 years

Note

Hello I love your work Can I requested 16, jasonette, with a happy ending please? Have a nice day

Prompt 16: “I’m sorry, but…I don’t remember you.” Jasonette.

This took forever and a day, and I do apologize. HOWEVER, I had to figure out how to make this happy at the end. Hope I did a good job with it.

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He felt like someone had twisted a knife into his chest as he looked down at her. He was holding her wrists, confused and frightened himself. He wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted. The only thing he knew was she looked devastated, and was sobbing her pretty eyes out... and it made him want to cry, too, for some reason.

She was so tiny compared to his hulking frame of six feet, two inches. She didn’t even come up to his shoulder, stopping more at his sternum. She had black hair that fell loosely around her heart-shaped face, a cute button nose and a pair of soft-looking lips finished it off.

Jason knew he wouldn’t sleep well for a while. Her eyes would haunt him.

Those soft grey-blue eyes were full of anger, sorrow, and betrayal. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Those eyes were begging him to do something, but what? He didn’t know what he could do. He didn’t know how to make her feel better. He didn’t even know her.

But apparently she knew him.

“Jason… Jason, please! It’s me, Jase! It’s Marinette! Why are you looking at me like that?” Her begging voice was absolutely broken, garbled with sobs.

“I’m sorry… but I don’t remember you,” he told her softly. “I’m really sorry.”

He repeated over and over that he didn’t remember who she was, but all it did was make her look more desperate — and the more Jason’s heart shattered in his chest.

He wasn’t sure why he was so affected by her tears. He wasn’t sure why he wanted to care about her. Jason hadn’t cared about anyone in years, save for maybe Dick.

“But Jason… Jase… Why did you stop answering me? Why are you pretending like you don’t know me? You were my best friend… I loved you. I loved you, Jason. Hell, I thought I still loved you! I was so excited to see you because I knew you, I love you!”

Jason winced, the ache in his chest growing.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry…”

Eventually, the sobbing woman was pulled away by a black-haired woman with the most vicious looking eyes he’d ever seen. Her lips were pulled into a snarl as she addressed him, clearly not afraid of him despite being about a foot smaller than him.

She gently wrapped her arms around Marinette and guided her away from him, which filled Jason with relief as well as extreme apprehension.

The dark-haired man was relieved — he no longer had to stop this foreign woman from hugging him, nor did he have to deal with her tears. But Jason was also apprehensive. This Marinette woman knew too much about him to be a stranger to him.

She knew he loved classic literature. She knew his favorite subject in school was English. She knew he wrote poetry. She knew he loved Alfred like his own grandfather, that Alfred had taught him to cook. She knew his favorite type of baked goods were conchas because they were sweet and slightly crispy. She knew that Dick had bought him the Lord of the Rings novels for his birthday (and Jason had cried over it). She also knew that he had a collection of works written by Edgar Allen Poe… and claimed to be the one to have given it to him for his twelfth birthday.

Jason could feel himself trembling a little bit as fear clawed at his chest. No one could have known that unless they talked to either Jason himself or Dick. Dick wasn’t there. Dick was in Bludhaven. Dick couldn’t have talked to her.

He doubted that Bruce or Alfred would have told anyone private information like that either.

He needed to go home. He needed to find that collection, needed to know the truth.

Jason rushed past Bruce and the tide of people around him. He let his feet carry him towards the exit, forgotten voices ringing in his ears. He burst through the door, sprinting out into the busy street.

He took a few gulps of air as he adjusted to the sunlight, his lungs burning as frigid air entered. Because he was looking frantically for a cab or anything else that could take him home, he could barely hear his name being shouted until a hand grabbed his wrist.

Jason spun around, ready to fight. His other fist flew towards the person who grabbed him, but the person was faster than him. They had released his wrist and dodged his swing.

"Jason, what the actual fuck is wrong with you?!" an annoyed voice snapped. "Bruce is going to call Dick at this rate!"

Jason blinked a few times before he was able to refocus. He noted the speaker had chin-length black hair and cobalt blue eyes. He recognized the face as his replacement, one Timothy Drake.

"Jason! What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Jason shook his head violently, feeling his throat closing up. How could she have known all of that? How did she know him? Why didn't he remember her? Why couldn't he figure this out?

A horrible laughter rang in his ears.

Why can't you remember, Boy Blunder?

Why can't you remember, little bird?

Did Uncle J hit you too hard?

I know you're tougher than that!

C'mon, you're the Bat's junior detective! Can't you figure out anything?

Then again, you didn't realize your mummy dearest was working for Uncle J—

Then everything went black.

—————

When he woke up, a pair of concerned green eyes was gazing down at him.

Green eyes? No one in his family aside from him had green eyes. He blinked a few times before noting the person also had bright red hair. Confusion littered his thoughts as he struggled to remember where he was and what had happened. He tried to sit up, but two quick hands stopped him, gently pushing back down on his chest.

“Easy there, Jay. You fainted on the sidewalk. Timmy and Diana brought you home, and I brought Dickie back home. We were really worried about you.” This voice was familiar.

Ah, that would explain it.

Wally must have been visiting Dick in Bludhaven. Once Dick heard that something had happened to him, he must have asked the speedster to bring him back to Gotham. Wally, being Dick’s best friend, would have brought him without question. The only remaining question to be answered at the moment would be Dick’s whereabouts, and why Wally was the one sitting with him.

A few bangs and a crash later, his elder brother came barreling into the room. Dick was a mess, only in his pajamas and his hair an absolute mess. He looked stressed, dark bags under his eyes making him look like a raccoon. His familiar sky-blue eyes found Jason, and once he realized he was awake, Dick raced over to him.

“Little wing!” Dick breathed, hugging his little brother tight. “Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

Jason looked around in confusion as he spotted Tim and Diana walking into the room. Tim’s face was paler than normal and his eyes were narrowed, as if he were trying to solve the most difficult puzzle he’d ever encountered. Diana looked relieved to see him awake, giving him a gentle smile. They both waited for Dick to be done fussing over Jason to speak.

“I’m glad to see you’re alright, Jason,” Diana said softly. “You gave Tim quite a scare when you fell on him.”

“Who was that woman, Jason?” Tim asked. “The one who tried to hug you. The one who was crying.”

Jason’s blood turned cold as he remembered just what he’d been thinking about before he spiralled.

“Dick, I need you to get something out of my old room,” he whispered. “I need you to get a book. The collection of Edgar Allen Poe’s works.”

“Little wing, are you sure? Don’t you want to rest—”

“Dick, the book. It’s important.”

Dick gave him a confused look but went to fetch the book. Once Dick had left the room, Jason turned his attention towards Tim.

“You’re tech-savvy, aren’t you, Tim? Do you think you could find records or traces of an old email account of mine? One I had before the Joker canned me?” Jason asked, trying to control his racing heart.

“...Depending on the server and whether or not they’ve wiped it, maybe,” Tim replied hesitantly, chewing on his lip. “I could try.”

“Please?”

Tim grabbed his laptop. For the next ten minutes, the only things audible were the tapping of keys on the keyboard and the blood roaring in his ears. Jason remained silent as he waited for Dick to return with his book.

He needed to see it, needed to see the inside cover. The inside cover would, at the very least, give him a starting point to go off of. He didn’t need to panic just yet.

Dick came back a few moments later with the well-loved and worn book. He went to hand it to Jason, but paused as he noticed his brother’s hands were now shaking violently.

“Little wing...what’s wrong?”

“Dick, open the cover.”

“Jason—”

“Just open the fucking cover, Dick! Read to me what’s on the inside!”

Dick slowly opened the cover, not understanding what the hell was going on. Why would there be something on the inside cover? Did Jason write a note there? Was there something hidden or taped there? Did it have anything to do with what had happened to Jason earlier?

His eyes locked onto the message, written in red ink, and his eyebrows furrowed.

“Dear Jason, I hope this present gets to you on time. I don’t know how long it takes mail to get to Gotham from Paris, so I apologize if it’s late. I also hope this is the correct copy! I wanted to send you macrons, but Maman said that would be very hard and there’s lots of rules. You’ll have to come back to Paris again if you want more of our macrons. I miss you a lot. I hope I’ll get to see you again soon!

Happy twelfth birthday!

Love, Marinette.”

Jason covered his face with both hands and moaned.

“God, I did know her…”

Tim and Dick exchanged a look with each other before asking Jason about what had happened. Jason launched into his explanation of how the young woman had called his name and ran up to him. She’d tried to hug him, but Jason had grabbed her and not allowed her to touch him. She said her name was Marinette Dupain-Cheng, and according to her, they had met when Bruce took him to Paris for a business trip.

“She knew personal details about me,” Jason choked. “I knew she couldn’t be a stranger because she knew stuff that only Dick would know about me. She told me she gave me that book for my birthday. She told me she wrote a note in it...and it’s there. It’s really there. I knew her… I knew her before the Joker killed me.”

“...That’s why she was crying,” Tim said quietly, putting the pieces together. “You didn’t remember her.”

Jason nodded, feeling his body go numb.

“I tried remembering. I tried, but I remembered him instead.”

Dick gave Jason’s shoulder a comforting squeeze as he continued.

“I must have spiralled from there. Did you find my email, Tim?”

Tim nodded before replying, “You emailed back and forth for a few years. You have over forty emails from… from after you died.”

Jason gestured for the computer, and Tim handed it to him. He sat up more before looking at everyone in the room.

“Can I be left alone? I want to read these.”

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” Dick asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. “What if another email sets you off again?”

“Then just one of you stay with me. I want to try to remember her. I need to.”

Tim saw the look on Dick’s face and quickly grabbed Wally’s arm. He gestured to Diana, and the three left Dick and Jason alone in the living room. Tim knew that Dick was going to try and dig into this, and he wanted to be nowhere near them when Jason exploded. He suggested that they all go get some cookies from Alfred, and that Diana should distract Bruce when he came home.

“Why is it so important that you remember her?” Dick asked quietly. “This could dig up things—”

“I have to, Dick.”

“Jason, you don’t have to do anything.”

“Yes, I do!”

“No, you don’t!”

“YOU WEREN’T THERE, DICK!”

The older man took a step back, slightly shocked about Jason’s outburst. He knew the young man had had an emotional night, but he wasn’t expecting this at all.

“You weren’t there,” Jason hissed. “You didn’t see her. She looked so betrayed, scared… sad. She looked like I’d ripped her heart out of her goddamn chest, Dick. Her friend glared at me when she led her away. She was sobbing, and it wasn’t fake. You can’t fake that shit.”

Tears stung his eyes as he barely managed to choke out his next words. “She said she loves me, Dick. She loves me, and I don’t remember who she is. I need to find out who she was to me. I feel like she was important. Really important.”

Dick fell silent. Jason watched his big brother rub his eyes and sigh in exhaustion, before sitting down beside him. He wrapped an arm around Jason’s shoulder in his brotherly way before telling him that he was here for him, no matter what the emails said.

Jason nodded grimly before going back to the beginning.

——————

It didn’t work.

He still couldn’t recall who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was.

Reading their emails felt like reading through someone else’s letters, not his.

He couldn’t recall inside jokes that they had shared.

He couldn’t recall the events that they had shared together.

He couldn’t recall the emotions attached to the emails.

She felt like someone completely separate from him, as if the Jason Todd who existed before the Joker’s crowbar was someone completely separate from the Jason after.

But he knew more about her.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was kind.

She was supportive.

She was creative.

She was intelligent.

She was a problem solver.

She was the kind of person Jason Todd had always respected, the one who put others' needs before her own. She was the one who came to save the day. She was the one who would come up with a creative solution to a seemingly impossible problem. She was the one who would listen to your concerns genuinely and soothe your fears. She was the person who loved so fiercely no matter how many times her heart had been hurt.

The Jason Todd that was here and now could not remember who Marinette Dupain-Cheng was, but he wanted to change that.

And damn whoever came in his way.

Tim had hunted down her phone number and gave it to him. The only thing left to do now was for Jason to call her. He hoped he could still make this right.

From her emails, Marinette did seem like a good person, and Jason couldn’t help but feel terrible that he’d hurt her. He knew he couldn’t get his memories back, but he could make new ones. Hopefully, she’d give him the chance to do that.

He held his cellphone in a vice grip as it rang.

“Hello?”

“Hello...my name is Jason Todd. When I was fifteen years old, I was in a car accident that nearly killed me. I lost… I lost a good chunk of my memories of things that had happened before that. I found your note in my book… and I found our emails.”

Jason could hear the intake of breath on the other end of the phone. He could also hear muffled sounds, and he prayed that she wasn’t crying again.

“I’m really sorry, Marinette. I don’t remember you, and I can’t get those memories back. The only thing I can do is apologize and hope that you’ll let me make new memories with you,” he said, his voice strained.

“I’m sorry I dropped off the face of the earth. I’m sorry that we had to meet this way. I’m sorry that I still don’t remember you even after reading all of our emails… but I want to change that.”

“How? How can you change that?” Her broken voice replied.

“By seeing you again. This… this isn’t going to be easy,” he warned her. “This is going to be hard. But you are a good person. You answered my emails with such kindness and compassion. You always took care to think about my needs and feelings — you’re the kind of person I’d want as a friend. I want to restart, if you’re willing.”

A broken sob echoed on the other end before a watery voice replied, “Hi...my name is Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m twenty years old. I work for Style Queen in New York City as an apprentice designer.”

A smile broke out on Jason’s face as he said, “Hi, Marinette. My name is Jason Todd. I’m twenty-one years old. I work freelance security in Gotham City. It’s very nice to meet you.”

#jasonette #maribat #prompts #kan writes some things #kan answers an ask #long post

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ephemeral-writings · 4 years

Text

Everything I Need // 05

oh sehun x reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 4.4k

Everything I Need // oh sehun teaches you a thing or two about life. but falling for the boy who lived across from you was not what you had anticipated.

A/N– Hope you guys are doing well, staying safe and healthy. Please feel free to talk to me if you need a place to displace any anxiety you might have. Also, thank you to anyone that’s still reading this otl i’m sorry for the turtle--snail pace updates, but truly, thank you if you’re still showing interest in this story💓 Please leave me your thoughts!!! Enjoy reading!!

Also, happy birthday to the love of my life, oh sehun; you’ve been my muse since day one and you’ll be my muse until the end.

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05

//////

Somehow the dinners with Sehun became a common part of your routine. You would come home from your shift some nights, and Sehun, as if he had memorized your schedule, would knock on your door just minutes after you had returned, asking you if you had eaten yet. Before you knew it, a month had flown by, and then another half.

A friendship, dare you say, was beginning to bloom between you and Sehun; however, whatever feelings you had reserved for the man was left unexplored.

Sehun proved to be a man full of surprises, a new layer of his personality unveiling itself with every time you met up. One minute he’d be a gentleman, grilling meats and plating them on your plate before his own, or swapping dishes with you if you expressed even a mild dislike to the food you decidedly ordered. But next, he’d be teasing you nonstop about your small quirks like your tendency to neatly clean up after a meal-- you called it server tendency-- or how you might have a more serious case of RBF than he does. That argument was still up for debate.

Sehun, from the moments you’re allowed to ponder the man, was nothing you’d expected. His quiet nature that you once thought was from a place of cockiness and judgment turned out to be him being quite the shy and soft-spoken man. His actions, however, were what struck you the most surprised. Like when he’d randomly press his palm to your lower back whenever he ushers you back into your apartment at the end of the night, as if his body had naturally adapted to being close to you; or when he’d stare so intently into your eyes while you’re talking, towering over you easily with his stature, that you feel like he’s looking right into the depths of your soul-- the theatrics of it all was disconcerting. For the most part, despite all the chords he struck somewhat unconsciously, you were set in favor of his presence.

The end of November was creeping in, and so was the cold weather. You realized that once you began layering a long-sleeve underneath your work shirt, and Chanyeol’s music was becoming a new definition of cozy.

“So,” Chanyeol started. “My friend hooked me up with a gig this weekend. I’m thinking about inviting my partner. Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions?” He listed off as you’re both closing for the night. You’re closing out the register while Chanyeol stacked the chairs and swept the floor.

“Give me a sec. You know better than to talk to me while I’m counting, Yeol,” you grumbled, finishing off your till five minutes later. “Okay, what’s up?”

“I’m looking at this opportunity to show off my music a little, ya know? Plus, she’s also been more responsive, less edgy. Do you think she’ll agree to go?”

“It doesn’t hurt to ask.” You offered. “Where’s this again?”

“A pretty popular club among the kids at uni actually, called Love Shot,” he said. “You heard of it?”

You racked through your head at the familiar name, and you finally realize that it was the club that Sehun worked at.

“Yeah,” you said, nonchalantly before adding, “Went there for a party once.”

Chanyeol stopped sweeping all together and looked at you as if you had five heads growing out of your neck. “Wait, you went to a party? At a club?” He half asked, half accused, and you almost got offended by his tone of voice, when he added, “And I wasn’t invited?”

You reddened at the realization at how pathetic you must look to other people when you’ve quite successfully hermit yourself from social events, to the point that even Chanyeol finds it unbelievable. “Whatever, Yeol, that isn’t important right now. We’re talking about you.”

“Nu-uh, this changes things. I wasn’t gonna pressure you to come because I know how you are,” you frown deeply at that, to which Chanyeol only points a knowing brow at you. “But, now you have to come, Y/N. You could wing-man me!” He exclaimed as if it was the most ingenious idea he had ever manifested.

“First of all, I don’t know the first thing about wingmanning, you don’t want me to wingman-- or is it wingwoman? you, dude.” You quickly objected to the idea flat out. You could just see it now, you trying to hype Chanyeol and inadvertently making him look stupid instead(not that he doesn’t play part in that himself alone), and by the end of it, you’ll probably make a fool of yourself by trying to rectify what was never there to begin with.

“Please, Y/N,” he begged. “I want you there when I perform some of my new stuff.”

Chanyeol tried persuading you to go watch him perform at Love Shot for the remainder of the night until you finally relented. You don’t really even know why you’re so hesitant on going, but thinking about the night of Jongdae’s birthday makes your stomach churn anxiously.

“Shit, it’s raining,” Chanyeol said when you’ve both clocked out. He nudged you with an elbow, saying, “Let’s go, I’ll drive you home.”

Chanyeol drove a Jeep, one that you find very difficult to get in and out of, but you suppose a free ride home was better than getting caught in the rain.

“You wanna come up? I could make something for us to eat?” You offered when nearing your apartment.

“Sure,” Chanyeol shrugged, claiming anything was better than cereal for dinner. He parked his Jeep in the allotted spot for your unit and cut the engine while you’re pulling your hood over your head for the oncoming rain. “Wanna race?”

“You could run, but you’ll slip and end up hurting yourself.” You chortled, imagining his lumber worth of limbs flailing in the air. Chanyeol ends up half walking, half jogging, heeding your warning as an afterthought than anything else.

While you’re searching for your keys in your purse, footsteps coming up the stairs and voices belonging to young men echoes through the hall. It was Sehun, and he had friends with him--one of which you’ve met before in passing when he had dropped by Sehun’s place while you were also over(for only 5 minutes as you had to use his printer because yours had jammed).

“Oh, it’s you again,” the guy aforementioned spoke, greeting you brightly afterwards. You returned the greeting, ever as awkward, shooting a less stiff one to Sehun as well while he returned a thoughtful look that had your cheeks warming.

“Hi, I’m Baekhyun,” he said, thrusting a hand forward for Chanyeol to take.

“Park Chanyeol,” he replied, voice booming loudly, though not unkindly.

The other man seemed familiar, and you realized after a closer look, it was the other bartender you saw the night of Jongdae’s birthday; he introduces himself as Kim Jongin.

“Did you just get off?” It was Sehun who asked the question that was directed towards you. You nodded, characteristically shy from the attention of both Sehun and his friends.

Something suddenly clicked in Chanyeol’s head then-- you distinctly recognize the spark that flashes across his pupils-- and you think absolutely nothing good could come from whatever he has working in his head.

“We just got off; we work together. And you are?” Chanyeol questioned, tone nosy and maybe a tad bit menacing, but maybe it was because you knew him better. Sehun, having gone quieter than usual, simply tells him his name with no further insertion that would’ve qualmed Chanyeol’s brewing curiosity.

“What a coincidence, these two work together, too,” Baekhyun said, gesturing towards Sehun and Jongin, and because Chanyeol felt like conjuring his inner Holmes, he inquired the said place in which the two--

“Awe fuck,” you thought, brain finally catching up with Chanyeol’s, and with the help of Baekhyun, Chanyeol’s formless scheme began taking shape.

“No shit,” Chanyeol said, stretching out the first word as he turns to you with a sadistic almost-grin. You glared at him, attempting not to wear the anxiety on your face that could possibly, wordlessly confirm his suspicions that might or might not have already gone too far into his head. Chanyeol doesn’t mind your silent pleas to shut up.

As the silent(and painful, for you) interaction between you and Chanyeol transpired, the three male stared, perplexed by the whole ordeal; one man in particular being more bothered by it than the rest.

Sehun hadn’t expected you to talk about him to your friends or anything(even though he does to his’), but he’d be lying if the revelation didn’t strike him as surprising, or made him a tad bit upset.

“Is something wrong?” Baekhyun eventually asked with a wry smile, breaking the tension between you and Chanyeol .

Chanyeol promptly turned to them, slapping on his wide and creepy smile as he explained, “Y/N gets moody when she’s hungry, and she’s supposed to be making us food right about now.” They laughed hesitantly, not quite sure what to make of Chanyeol’s statement, until Sehun spoke up.

“Don’t let us keep you, then.” Sehun nodded curtly, and without further ado, marched into his apartment with Baekhyun and Jongin following. Once they were out of sight, Chanyeol steered you into your own unit, muttering, “Guess I’m staying a little later than planned.”

The week goes by bizarrely quick, what with Chanyeol’s constant tormenting through work and text. After that night, according to him, Sehun was your secret boyfriend whom you’ve been hiding, which was absolutely ridiculous, and you never failed to reject the notion every single time it was brought up.

Thu 15:21 delivered

‘Stop. Tagging. Me. In’

15:22 delivered

‘Relationship memes.’

Yeol Thu 15:24 received

‘im being supportive’

‘its ur first relationship after all’

Chanyeol sent with the stupid face emoji blowing in a tissue attached to his message.

Thu 15:25 delivered

‘im blocking u’

In a blink of an eye, the weekend was at your doorstep. You spent over half an hour agonizing over what to wear, fumbled with your scant collection of makeup only to end up with a few strokes here and there to brighten your dull complexion and to open up your eyes from the evident lack of sleep, and in the end, you looked...decent.

Suddenly, your phone dinged from across the room where it was charging. Chanyeol was reminding you that he was going on at 9pm, and also telling you how nervous he was because he just saw Eun walk in.

20:24 delivered

‘go say hi to her!!’

Yeol 20:25 received

‘GOING’

‘pray i don’t choke’

You grinned, sending him all the luck in the universe so that he doesn’t make a fool of himself. He’s worried about nothing, you thought, for Chanyeol was a kind, thoughtful, and humble guy, not that you’d ever tell him that yourself. Likewise, you’d like to think that he saw the good in you, despite it being so difficult for those qualities to reflect in your eyes, and it was why your friendship was so easy.

As you’re walking out, your phone dinged again. It wasn’t from Chanyeol, but Sehun instead.

Sehun 20:34 received

‘Hey, did I just see your friend at loveshot?’

‘Chanyeol? I think’

20:34 delivered

‘yeah, he said he’s performing there tonight’

You debated adding the fact that you were heading there right then, when suddenly, you contemplated your state of emotions, whether you were excited or anxious to see Sehun again, at Loveshot no less. It was certainly out of your comfort zone, hence the anxiety that bubbled away in your stomach, but Sehun was familiar now and Chanyeol’s a close friend, so it shouldn’t be that terrible. Right?

Sehun didn’t reply immediately, to which you assumed was due to the fact that he was presently on duty. You arrived shortly after, seeing a decent sized queue outside of the club. You were about to shoot a text to Chanyeol to let him know you’d arrived when two messages came in at the same time.

Yeol 20:52 received

‘U here yet?’

Sehun 20:52 received

‘does that mean i’ll see you tonight?’

Ignoring the latter message that short circuited your mind for a second, you responded to Chanyeol’s, and not two minutes later, he emerged from the club’s entrance, peeking around the crowd for your small stature.

“Y/N!” He beckoned you over, whispered something to the bouncer’s ear, and you’re both walking back into the lively albeit dim space before you knew it. Chanyeol’s looking the best you had ever seen him; dressed to the nines in his dark denim over white graphic hoodie, paired with ripped, black jeans and chains draped along his right thigh, you think that this Eun girl would be a fool if she couldn’t see his efforts to impress her when Chanyeol lives in essentially five different hoodies.

“I’m actually shocked that you made it, was sort of expecting you to flake last minute,” Chanyeol said, giving your outfit a subtle once-over and grinning when you rolled your eyes at him. You’re wearing a tight-fitting tank top, one that has lace edging the bust and cropped to your midriff, and to cover up from the cold, you wore a cropped black puffer jacket. Your bottom’s a pair of black high waisted jeans, the slightly flared at the ankles making you look longer than you really are especially with your ankle boots.

“But then again, your secret boyfriend is working tonight, so maybe you’re really here for him, who knows,” he smirked with mirth swimming in his eyes. At that, you remembered Sehun’s message, its implications bringing warmth to your cheeks.

You shoved the tall idiot with an elbow, though it does little to affect him. He’s cackling to himself stupidly all the way until you both reach the bar, a destination you hadn’t noticed you were even heading towards, not with how Chanyeol’s dumb teasing had distracted you, making your cheeks flushed and heart race for nothing. Subtly, you scanned the vicinity for Sehun but spotted him nowhere in sight.

It was Jongin instead that took notice of you first. “Hey, it’s you again,” he said, voice throaty and silvery at the same time. The tone could easily be menacing had it not been for the kindness floating in his orbs or the disarming half-smile he gives you, as if he knew something that you didn’t.

You managed a polite smile in response before Chanyeol abruptly pushed on your shoulders, forcefully planting you on one of the chairs, directly in front of the bar.

“I’m gonna head up now,” he tells you. “Get yourself comfortable before I introduce you to Eun later, cool?”

Letting go of your petty bickering for a moment, you gave his forearms a placatory squeeze while wishing him good luck and off he went.

“Can I grab you something to drink?” Jongin asked when Chanyeol was out of sight. You told him the same thing you told Sehun last time, giving him the freedom to choose for you.

“Sehun’s slacking off somewhere,” Jongin said suddenly, distracting you from watching Chanyeol as he introduced himself. You clapped along with the crowd, though your brain had separated itself and you could only respond to Jongin with a questioning look. What made him think you were looking for Sehun?

“Oh,” he exclaimed, staring over your right shoulder. “Speaking of the devil.”

Sehun ignored the other boy all together, only looking at you as he spoke. “Hey, you never answered my text.” You turned to face him, his expression at first hard then gradually dissolving into something softer the longer he stared at you; he was in his uniform again, minus the velvet bow tie and plaid vest that you assume was specially worn for Jongdae’s birthday event. Even with just the striped button down, a few buttons undone from the top, he managed to garner more looks than you could’ve imagine. His arm goes to prop himself on the countertop as he leaned closer to you since his height was towering over you and glaringly so. You caught a whiff of his scent as you breathed in, attempting to calm your nerves, but laced with the familiar seaside breeze came the all too familiar acrid smell of cigarettes. It was nowhere near the stench that clung to your father’s breath, clothes, and skin, but the effect was there nonetheless.

“Y/N?” Sehun had repeated your name twice before you realized where you were, who he was, and how far you were from the past. His hand had barely grazed your arm when you snapped out of it, unknowingly with a recoil under his touch, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by both Sehun and Jongin. The former leaned in even closer, and asked in a hushed tone, “You okay?”

Not trusting your voice, you only nodded while giving him a weak smile. “I - need to use the restroom, excuse me.” You tried to ignore Sehun’s imploring gaze on you as you got up and walked towards the direction of where the restrooms were.

“Get it together, Y/N,” you muttered under your breath as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You willed your mind to focus on something-- anything-- that was presently in front of you, needed to get a grip on reality. It felt like your brain was being dissected, that your eyes were so distanced and while out of one window you saw your reflection, pale and panic stricken, you also saw your childhood home. You saw your father sitting in his chair with a lit cigarette between his fingers, and his face looking so far gone that he doesn’t even notice you standing right in front of him.

“Well, well,” a voice started, echoing so suddenly on the tiles of the restroom that the image of your father dissipates all together at once. “It looks like my night just got a whole lot more interesting.”

You turned your head, finally grasping onto something real, however unfortunate it was to be no one other than Liah. You groaned internally, from the dull pain in your head or from the prospect of the upcoming headache that the girl will cause? Take a wild guess.

“Wow, didn’t know my existence had such an influence on you. I’m flattered,” you said, face blank as ever.

Liah clucked her tongue, looking annoyed which was no surprise to you. “Don’t be a smartass, Y/N, no one likes a smart,” she drawled. This time you outwardly rolled your eyes, turning to the mirror again as you prepare to tie up your hair. It was getting uncomfortable with how heated your skin got after your little episode.

“But I suppose it’s an upgrade from being a coward, hmm?” She mocked sympathy as if you keeping quiet to her belittling all those years ago wasn’t a result of how miserable she made your life.

You’re trying hard not to lose your cool because the last thing you wanted was to stir something up that frankly shouldn’t be touched. But the word coward pulsates in your ears, clinging adamantly to your memory as it digs and digs for all the names your father has called you, worser than coward. Liah doesn’t mean shit to you, not anymore, you told yourself.

You’ve washed your hand after successfully tying up your hair; it’s messy and unruly but you tell yourself it’s a damn look, especially as you turned, once again, to stare at Liah directly in the eye, and said, “Smartass or coward, I’d rather be those than someone who feeds off of other’s weaknesses.”

If you’d bothered to stay and watch Liah’s reaction, you would’ve seen the utter hatred within her eyes as she tried to stare you into the submission she once did.

You headed back to the bar, thankfully unscathed, but the unwelcome trip down memory lane mired your thoughts as you tried to recomposed yourself.

Jongin was the one who caught your approaching figure first. He nudged Sehun who was polishing a glass by his side before taking a few steps away to tend to some patrons, leaving you and Sehun alone. Well, alone as alone could be when you’re standing in the middle of a packed club.

You plopped back on the same chair from earlier, making as little eye contact as possible with the man.

“You’re flushed,” Sehun bluntly noted. He stopped what he was doing to really look at you. With your hair up, there’s no hiding the rosy hue painting your cheeks and ears. You’d feel too hot with it down, so you bear Sehun’s scrutiny for the moment.

“Because it’s getting hot in here,” you said in a ‘duh’ tone. “Are you making my drink again?”

Sehun squinted at you before deciding to drop questioning your suspicious behavior. “Do you want sex-”

“You don’t have to say the name, y’know,” you tell him quickly, a little panicked and fully blushing. Sehun outrightly smirked and somewhere between the music playing, you imagined Jongin’s laughter.

“Your friend’s growing a fanclub up there,” he said, starting on the drink.

You spun in your seat to see that Chanyeol indeed has some girls fawning over him. A few more tenacious ones slid, not-so-discreetly, crumpled up napkins with what you assume to have scribbled phone numbers on them. You gave credit that Chanyeol politely declined all advances on the spot; with a boyish grin and shake of his head, no one could get mad at that. It made him appear professional, but you also didn’t miss the way he would glance at a certain someone every time it happened.

You snort while muttering, “Way to be subtle.”

“What was that?” Sehun voiced.

Turning your body back around to face him again, you said, “Nothing. Just that there’s gonna be some hearts broken, is all.”

You don’t notice the way Sehun’s grip on the tumbler becomes tighter from your words.

Sehun, for the most part, kept you company for the night. Jongin jumped in every once in a while, and you found him to be quite the clumsy yet the most suavest guy you’d ever met. He reminded you of another tall ogre and that in itself was something that allowed you to release your inhibitions for the night.

“Alright, alright,” you slurred, “What do you call a bear with no teeth?”

Jongin squinted at you, seemingly deep in thought, and opened his mouth to answer but someone else had beaten him to it.

“A gummy bear! Why’re you going around telling my jokes?” Chanyeol blurted. He took advantage of the slouched over position you were in to give you a noogie.

“Ugh, get your crummy hands off of me,” you groaned in protest, not bothering to lift your head to glare at the man. Instead your eyes settled the girl standing next to Chanyeol. “Oh? You must be Eun.”

“And you must be Y/N,” the girl smiled, and you could’ve sworn you heard Chanyeol’s heart beat right out of his chest. She offered you her hand, and before grabbing it, you suppressed the tickle in your bloodstream. You looked more sober in that split second than you probably felt.

“Jeez, how much did she have to drink?” Yeol asked the two tenders.

“Not too much,” Jongin supplied. “We cut her off after she started reciting psych theories to us,” he continued, to which you sing-songed replied with, “The more you know.”

It made Eun giggle so that’s all that mattered. She easily slid into the seat next to you, and left Chanyeol towering over behind you two. Seeing as you were getting acquainted, he excused himself to go talk “business” with the owner.

“Don’t go trying to make yourself sound cooler than you really are, Yeol,” you reprimanded, earning a half-smirk-half-shy-grin from Eun. Jongin offered to show Chanyeol the way to the owner’s office, leaving Sehun to tend once more. You whined for another cocktail, but the man remained steady in his stance to cut you off for the night. Eun doesn’t drink, so he offers her, and yourself, some club soda instead.

Eun was surprisingly easy to talk to; her voice seemed to lull you in like a siren and you think-- it’s no wonder Chanyeol was so taken by her. You have half a mind to straightforwardly tell her, “you know-- Chanyeol’s like-- ready to bust the fattest uwu for you, right?” but then that didn’t seem quite the way to go. You snort like an idiot, stopping Eun mid-sentence. Sehun and Eun exchanged looks.

“You okay there, darling?” It was Eun who asked you while Sehun simultaneously mumbled, “Maybe we should’ve stopped at the first drink.”

You repeatedly tell them “no, no no it’s not that,” but “I was just thinking about how good you and Chanyeol would be - together.”

There was a pregnant silence after that, and you realized that wow, that was a big Not-a-Good-Wingwoman thing to say. Eun looked thoroughly blindsided, and if you could see clearly enough, you would’ve seen the quirk in her lips by your honest words. You let out an indignant sound from your throat, ready to apologize for your stupidity, when Eun suddenly let out an awkward but hearty laughter. Sehun had appeared amused whereas you looked like a fish out of its bowl.

“Thank you, for saying that,” she smiled, making you beam in relief. You knew then that there was more to Eun than you realized. Her eyes glimmered with hope, or maybe it was apprehension, at the prospect of Chanyeol’s affection.

Right then, Chanyeol’s voice boomed, “Alright, ladies,” startling both you and Eun. “Deal’s been sealed. You’re looking at a regular DJ of Loveshot,” he boasted, and as if you had planned it, you both rolled your eyes followed by the mandatory kudos, even by Sehun himself.

“You girls ready to go?” Chanyeol asked.

At the same time that Eun replied yes, you chimed, “I’m gonna stick around for a bit.” Chanyeol sent you a doubtful look, to which you fail-winked back at him while Eun wasn’t looking; he smiled, grateful at first, but then it morphed into something mischievous when he detected the man behind the bar watchful gaze on you.

“Right then,” he echoed, then stared at Sehun when he asked, “Do you mind taking her home?”

Sehun, who had really only glanced at Chanyeol when he spoke to him, returned his eyes on you, and asked, “Do you mind waiting a bit?”

How he manages to sound so soft and gentle yet all the same impassive in his speech unnerved you. You found yourself shaking your head, agreeing with him and whatever was to come.

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fiesta-freddie · 4 years

Text

Love in Disguise- Part 3

lmao when I say this chapter was a bitch to finish because of my writers block...anyways here it is (finally). Good ol’ Chapter Three!

Words: 3.6k

Summary: You’re out for a day on the town with Archie to get some essential shopping done. You worry immensely about everything that could possibly go wrong, which, unbeknownst to you, might end up being a jinx for you. Archie manages to save the day with his optimism, but also ends up confessing something you wish you would've heard

The next morning had come quicker than you anticipated. As you got yourself ready, your mind and stomach couldn't seem to stay at ease. Various thoughts ran through your head about what could possibly go wrong. All you could seem to focus on were the negative outcomes like what if and what might. Nevertheless you managed to talk enough sense into yourself to step foot out your front door.

As you locked your door, you looked around you to see if anyone had a look of suspicion on their faces. Although no one did (and you knew deep inside no one had any idea what you were about to do), a little part of you still kept alert. The night before you had stayed up late coming up with different excuses in case you were questioned.

“It’s for a costume party.”

“I was out shopping and I wanted to buy something for my husband.”

“It was a foolish dare.”

“My brother's birthday is just around the corner and I wanted to get him something nice.”

Someone would have to be downright dumb to believe those lies, but at least you had something in your back pocket in case you needed it.

******

Archie had suggested The Woseley for a quick breakfast and pep talk. Although you really didn't want to, he was doing you a huge favor so you really couldn't turn him down without him thinking you were ungrateful. (Not like he would ever think that anyway)

A slow, awkward and cigarette-odor-filled cab drive later, you arrived in front of a large building which seemed a little run down on the outside but looking through the window, you could tell it was an upper class establishment. You now knew why Archie had told you to come dressed somewhat nice.

Thanking the cab driver, you hoped out onto the sidewalk, which had a surprising number of people walking along it for nine in the morning.

“Deep breaths, Y/N, you can do this. Nobody knows, so...so just don't make the situation more awkward then it already is,” you whispered to yourself as you began to walk into the doors.

Instantly you were greeted with the smell of coffee and an assortment of hot breakfast foods. God, you thought to yourself, I hope Arch brought some cash. From the looks of it I won't be able to afford a damn thing here.

“Good morning, miss. Table for one?” a friendly hostess who couldn't have been much older than you greeted. She had a delicate glow among her face that made her seem so innocent and lively.

“Oh no- I uhm- I’m actually supposed to be meeting someone. Last name Corcoran?” you said stumbling over your words. Pull yourself together Y/N.

You watched as she skimmed through her list, her finger gliding down the paper. “Ah, yes here it is. Archie Corcoran?” You nodded. “Right this way then.” She beamed, grabbing a menu on her way to the table.

“Here you are miss, your server should be here momentarily, enjoy.”

You watched as she walked away, before Archie got your attention

“Ah, so you decided to come!” Archie said, in a teasing tone. You, however, were too anxious to notice it.

“Well yes, I would have felt bad if I didn't, considering all you’ve done for me this far.”

He let out a small chuckle. “Yes, and with more to come.”

You had no idea what that entailed, but Archie was your best friend (maybe even your only real one) and you trusted more than anyone else you knew.

*****

“Y/N, are you feeling okay? You barely touched your food in there.” It was true, you had spent most of the time poking at your food instead of eating. Although the obvious topic never came up, it was floating around in the back of your mind, causing an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

“Oh yeah,” you lied “I’m okay, just a little tired I guess.” You hoped that Archie wouldn't catch on to your lie and to your advantage he didn’t. He was preoccupied with trying to wave down a cab for the both of you.

Once Archie had finally succeeded, he opened the door for you and followed you inside. “Ah thank you sir, to the mens shop please.” You saw the cab driver nod through the rear view mirror.

He had a fair amount of stubble and wore an old newsboy hat which was patched in many different places.

“Okay,” Archie began, nudging your shoulder to grab your attention. Your eyes skimmed the list of stops he had written down “so our first stop will be the mens shop because clothes are an obvious must, then to the hairdresser. I have a friend there who agreed to help us out. After those two places its teaching time. What’dya say? Sound good?”

For the first time that day you smiled “Sounds great Arch, thank you so much for helping me out.” The rest of the cab ride was silent, except for when the driver mumbled under his breath out of annoyance.

*****

“Right, then here we are. Thank you sir,” Archie said, thanking the cab driver.

You stood on the sidewalk and looked through the window of the shop. There was expensive looking suits everywhere, with expensive looking people too.

Archie looked at the front doors and then back at you, he could obviously see that you were nervous. He had a soft and comforting smile on his face, taking your hand in his. “Take a deep breath Y/N.” You did. “Walking in there will be a piece of cake, just stay with me, okay?” You nodded. As you two walked through the french doors, Archie still held onto your hand squeezing it a few times for reassurance.

“Now, I think we should get a few different things. It doesn't just have to be suits, but we should get at least one, maybe two, tops.”

“Why not just get one? Especially if they’re...uhm...a bit pricey.” You said looking at the tag on a nearby suit.

“Well because if you get that job, which you most definitely will,” Archie whispered in your ear “then you’ll need to be prepared. And besides I can lend you a few things too.”

You nodded and began to look around. The shop wasn't as fancy as you had imagined in your head, but the price of their clothing wasn't surprising.

You walked around, taking things off the racks and putting them back on. Every now and then you found yourself walking away from a section after taking one look at the highly priced piece of fabric. You could see people in the far back of the store getting their clothing tailored. “My god, how on Earth do people afford these things.”

While you were still searching for something that wouldn't put you in debt, Archie came over with a handful of clothes. “Y/N look what I’ve picked out for you!” he said, handing you a yellow turtleneck sweater.

“My god, where did you get all these?” You questioned him with a laugh.

“That's not important, but here, go and try these on. I've already got a dressing room for you.” He said handing the pile of clothes to you and pointing to a dressing room with a 3 on it. “I’ll be waiting outside the dressing room, so after you put on a pair of clothes, come out and show me so I can give you my expert advice!”

“Sure thing” You said with a giggle.

You followed his orders and put on a white button down shirt paired with blue slacks. “You ready?” you asked from behind the curtain.

“Show me what you’ve got!”

You slid open the curtain, making a dramatic entrance “Here she comes, with the first set of clothes!”

You began to pose like a model, facing in all different directions and using your hands for added effect. “That looks splendid on you Y/N.” Archie said, clapping proudly “Absolutely wonderful! Next set.”

You spent the next twenty minutes taking off and putting on an assortment of different clothes. You had to admit that Archie was quite an expert when it came to mens fashion.

“Alright this is the last set. You ready?” you questioned, poking your head out from behind the curtain.

“Mhm, lets see the style!”

“Ta-da!” you exclaimed, making one final entrance.

Archie paused for a moment and looked you up and down. “I like it, but its missing something.”

“Like what?” you asked, looking down at the outfit. “I think it looks pretty good.”

Archie's eyes quickly lightened, “I’ve got it! Just wait here a second, I’ll be right back.”

You gave him a quick salute as he wandered away, then turned to the mirror to look yourself over. You liked how the green sweater fit snugly on you and how it was on the lighter side. As you examined different angles of the clothing, it was a given that you would need some sort of chest bind.

You heard a noise from behind you. Assuming it was Archie you turned around to see what he had brought back. “Alright what did you-” As soon as you realized that the man in front of you was not who you expected, you didn’t know what to do except freeze

“Excuse me ma’am, but what is it exactly that you’re doing?” He asked. It was evident that he was some sort of manager based off his appearance. He was older and didn’t look amused in any way at all. Had it not been for your hair, which was a dead giveaway you were a girl, he might not have even approached you in the first place.

“Well- I uhm, you see I was just. I was shopping for my husband!” You said a little too quickly, it was the dumbest lie you could have used, but there was no way you could retract it now.

“Your husband?” He questioned again, looking down at your hand. You quickly realized why he looked, and you hid it behind your back. “Your husband? Whom you’re not wearing a ring for?” Shit, there was no way you would get yourself out of this one.

“Y/N, I think I’ve found-” Archie stopped as soon as he realized what was going on.

“Excuse me sir, are you with this young woman here?” the manager asked

“Yes, yes I am. May I help you with something?” Archie was never short tempered with anyone, but when it came to people he cared about, his entire demeanor changed.

“Well, it would appear that she’s trying on clothes that aren't exactly suitable for her. Now, she said that she was shopping for her husband, which I’m assuming would be you.”

Just like you, Archie had gone speechless for a brief moment. You two quickly exchanged worried glances before he began to speak.

“Well, yes I am her husband,” he said, “And I’ll have you know sir, that I find it very rude that someone of your corporation status is asking such pressing questions. It’s absolutely none of your business what me and my wife are doing. I don’t see that it should be a bother to you, considering the fact that we are paying customers. But if it truly does bother you, then I have no problem stepping onto the street outside your shop and telling everyone how we we’re harassed inside this store.”

The manager had an expression of shock among his face. He didn’t expect Archie to rant the way that he did, and quite frankly, neither did you.

“Now,” Archie continued, taking the pile of clothes from the dressing room and handing them to the once intimidating man “We would like to purchase these items. If you would be so kind to take them up to the register for us, that would be wonderful. Good day to you.” Archie didn’t even let the other man get in another word. He turned around, grabbed you by the arm and walked away.

You had a hard time processing what had just happened, but you went along with it anyways. Getting nervous when you were confronted was something you absolutely hated. It always caused you to tense up and to top it off, you weren't the smoothest liar in the world either. Had it not been for Archie, you might as well had said goodbye to the interview, because you probably would’ve been kicked out of the store.

You were silent while Archie payed for the clothes, avoiding eye contact with anyone and looking directly at the floor. The damage wasn’t too bad and thanks to Archie's complaints to the manager, the price was knocked down a considerable amount.

Archie may have seemed tough in the heat of the moment, but once you were outside of the store and back onto the street, he dropped the act and took a deep breath. “Shit, I’m sorry for that fiasco Y/N. I shouldn't have left you by yourself.” Archie said, apologetically.

“It’s okay Arch, I figured that something like that was bound to happen sooner or later. I’m just glad it didn’t get too carried away. But you were great!” You said. It wasn’t Archie's fault and it wasn’t necessarily yours either. You were well aware that most people wouldn’t be open to the idea of you cross-dressing, just like most people weren’t too keen on the idea of queers either. It wasn’t anything you could change, but you wished that people were more opened-minded

“Yeah, maybe it was bound to happen, but it was still scary. I mean, my heart dropped.” Archie paused for a moment. “Y/N, maybe we should rethink all this. I know I pushed you to do it, but its not to late to call it quits now. I mean-”

You cut him off. “Archie, no,” now it was your turn to be the stern one “We’ve already done so much and I’m excited about this whole thing. You were the one who pushed me to do this, yes. But I needed that push otherwise I’d probably never get myself out there. So were going to finish this journey. And were going to finish it together. Got it?” You weren't trying to be rude, but somewhere from deep inside you had a sudden burst of fire. You didn’t know where it had come from, but you sure as hell liked it a lot.

“Woah there chief, didn’t know you had that much fire in ya’.” Archie said with a grin “if you really want to do this, then I’ll be with you the whole way.”

You smiled and grabbed his hand in yours, holding it up between the two of you. You gave it three quick squeezes, before you began to make your way down the street.

*****

“Alright Y/N, this is the next part of your transformation, and quite possibly the most exciting part, if you ask me.” Archie looked at you through the mirror. You were sitting in a barbers chair, with a drape across the front of you. You were glad the shop only had one other customer in it at that time.

“Alright Corcoran, I trust you. But I swear, if you shave my hair down to a buzz, you’ll be sorry.” You warned. He only chuckled and patted your head.

Archie turned to the hairdresser, who he claimed he was good friends with. “Alright Caroline, give her the ol’ mop top hair do. Oh and Y/N, close your eyes until she’s finished, I want you to be surprised.” You gave him a sigh and reluctantly closed your eyes, uncertain of how you would feel once your hair was gone.

“Don’t, worry sweetie,” Caroline said, running a comb through your hair and parting it “You’ll be satisfied once I’m done.” She had a soft spoken tone which made you feel at ease. You relaxed your body and let her get to work.

With your eyes closed you were unsure of what was happening around you and you had absolutely no idea what was being cut. All you knew was that Archie and Caroline were having a conversation on how to cut your hair.

“Thats good, its good,” you heard Archie say. You could imagine him standing next to Caroline with his arms crossed, watching her work “Maybe make it a little shorter on that side- perfect just like that!”

“Archie I’m a hair dresser not a magician.”

“Right, I know, I just want it to look convincing enough.”

You heard Caroline sigh. She didn’t seem annoyed, but you could understand her frustration with Archie. You even got frustrated with him sometimes, but you knew he only had peoples best interest at heart, no matter how much he got on your nerves sometimes. “Well I can’t cut it as short as those Beatle boys have it, because then it might throw off the whole look, but I can make it more of a shaggy mop top that way its short enough for her to pass as a guy.”

“Of course, do what you need to Caroline.” Archie said, backing off a little. “Thanks a ton for doing this too.”

“Mhm, of course.”

You giggled as hair fell onto your face. It was itchy as hell, that's for sure. You moved your nose attempting to get some of the hair from your face to the floor, but you were unsuccessful. You decided to finally give up after many failed attempts.

Finally, you heard the scissors being put down and you knew that she had finished. “Arch,” You heard Caroline say as she turned the chair “What’d do you think of this?” You didn’t realize though, just how much of your hair was gone until you felt Archie run a hand through it.

“This is really nice Cara, it looks really good!”

“Am I allowed to see now?” You asked to no one in particular. Apart from wanting to see what your hair looked like, you were waiting to get the hair off your eyelids.

“Sure doll,” Caroline said in her soft voice. She turned the chair again, this time to face the mirror. You impatiently opened your eyes the first chance you got.

“So wudd’ya think Y/N? Do you like it?” You didn’t bother to answer Archie's question.

You had to admit that you weren't to crazy about it at first, given the fact that it was much different from the head of hair you had forty-five minutes ago. You examined your new look at different angles in the mirror. Even if you didn’t like it, you weren't going to be rude about it. Maybe it’ll grow on me

You turned around to Archie and Caroline, with a smile “I love it, thank you so much.” Caroline nodded at you.

“What do I owe you?” Archie asked Caroline, pulling his wallet from his back pocket.

She waved her hand dismissively “Don’t worry about it, no charge. Its a pleasure for me to help you out Arch. Besides your one of my best customers.” He smiled and thanked her a million, as did you.

*****

It had been hours since your shopping adventures had ended, and both you and Archie were completely worn out. “Man, that was quite a day wasn’t it?” Archie said more thank asked. You two were sitting in the living room of his small apartment, shopping bags surrounding the both of you. He was spread out across the floor and you were spread out across the couch.

“Yeah,” you chuckled “It was fun, but I don’t think I’d ever be able to do something like that ever again.”

“Well, Y/N what do you think The Beatles do all day? They probably run around for press conferences and I bet they’re in and out of the studio all the time too. You might want to get to used to living off of coffee for a while.” he joked. You giggled at his words once again, trying to process what he said. It was hard though, because you had began to doze off, your eyelids shut every now and then, but tried hard to keep them open.

“God, I hope not. I mean, I can handle a few cups but not that much. Hopefully I won’t be worked to death. That is if I get the job.”

Archie paused for a moment. “Well, I’ve got faith in you Y/N. You certainly look like a convincing man. I mean, if I didn’t know you, I’d assume your a man at first glance. Maybe a bit of an odd looking one in some ways, but I wouldn’t question it. I’ve taught you everything that I can only imagine you’ll need to know. You’ve got the voice down perfectly, and your mannerisms aren’t half bad either. Plus, thanks to me, you can now successfully tell each of the Beatles apart from each other. Trust me that’ll save you in the long run.” He paused again, assuming you were still listening, but you had already fallen asleep “I have no doubt you’ll get the job. You know what you’re doing, you’re smart...and beautiful too, even if your hair is now a mop top. Just don’t forget me when you become part of the fame.” Archie chuckled, propping himself up onto his elbows and looked over at you, sound asleep. A smile spread across his face when he saw how peaceful you looked. Even when you were sleeping you still managed to make him smile.

Archie walked over to where you were on the couch, and grabbed the blanket that was on the end. He carefully draped it over you, trying to cover you up as much as possible. “Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, even though you couldn’t hear him “I...I love you.” Archie said, planting a light kiss onto your head before walking off to his own room.

----

Beatles Taglist: @beatlevmania @givemequeen @my-dumbshit @john-lemonade @ineedyoubygeorgeharrison @princesof-theuniverse @geostarr @katiekitty261 @killerqueenisthebest @yeehaw-city @asphalt-cocktail @chloe-on-cloud9

Love in Disguise Taglist: @motley-queen @littledarlingwellaway @thetimelordmeeps @killerqueenisthebest @lizvxx @edsloveshisrichie @beatlesdotcom @thiccjelly17 @viralwolf02 @givemequeen @bowiescocaine @julessworldd @sapphic-cupid @thegreat-annamaria @yeehaw-city @asphalt-cocktail @myukulelegentlyweeps @jimmypagesandbrianmayshair @doctorwhatwhenandwhere

#the beatles #john lennon #paul mccartney #George Harrison #ringo starr #the beatles x reader #the beatles imagine #the beatles fluff #john lennon x reader #john lennon imagine #john lennon fluff #george harrison x reader #george harrison imagine #george harrison fluff #ringo starr x reader #ringo starr imagine #ringo starr fluff

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sml8180 · 4 years

Text

Lasting Injuries

I started writing this yesterday when my knee was acting up from an injury I sustained roughly 8 years ago, and it initially inspired me to write this. I HC that Damien didn’t just have a cane for the looks of it, but because he actually needed it due to an old injury. I decided to write a story about what had happened to him, and when I asked in one of the Discord servers I’m a part of what that injury should be, @doctordiscord123 suggested that maybe Will accidentally shot Damien in the knee while showing off a new gun.

This story is the result of that idea, along with SEVERAL odd google searches.

Heads up for the following: Gun violence, poor gun safety, accidental shooting, accidental kneecapping, descriptions of injuries, chronic pain, long term injuries.

Lasting Injuries

William had told Damien that he had something to show him. He’d told Damien to head outside, and wait for him by the treeline, while he grabbed whatever it was he was going to show off from his room.

Damien hadn’t known what he’d expected, but he knew he wasn’t expecting William to show up and show him a gun. It was a brand new revolver, the metal clean and shiny, and Will held it in his hand as if it were meant to be there.

“I got it for my sixteenth birthday the other day!” Will exclaimed, showing off the revolver to his friend. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“It is,” Damien nodded. He wasn’t exactly a gun person, but he enjoyed seeing his friend so excited. “You do know what you’re doing with that, right?”

“Of course I do! I’ve fired one before, but now I have my own!”

Damien seemed to relax a bit when he learned that Will knew how to handle his new weapon. He’d known it was only a matter of time before he ended up getting a gun, anyways, seeing as he wanted to go into the military some day. Now that his nerves were somewhat calmed, he was curious. “How does it work?”

“It’s simple, really!” Will told him, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose with his free hand. “This releases the cylinder,” he mused, pulling back the release to let the cylinder swing out. “And you load it like this,” he narrated, loading a round into one of the chambers, before clicking the cylinder back into place. He stepped back a bit, adjusting his grip on the gun as he went. “You look down the sights to find where you’re aiming, pull the hammer back,” Will looked down the sights of the gun.

Damien trusted that Will wasn’t aiming at him. He didn’t think he should move, until it was far too late. The shot rang out across the manor grounds, and the next thing Damien knew, he was on the ground, unsure of really what had happened. Things seemed to slow as Will set the gun down and ran to him, pulling off his coat and wrapping it around Damien’s knee.

“Just, just stay there, I’ll get help,” Will rambled, sounding shaken as he stood, sprinting back to the manor.

While William was gone, Damien started to feel a sort of burning pain radiating through his leg. It was dull at first, but as the moments ticked by, he could feel it getting worse. Will returned with a couple members of the house staff, along with Celine, who quickly knelt beside him, immediately starting to fuss over him.

He didn’t really remember much after that. He remembered Celine and the two adults fussing over him, making sure that he kept calm. They all brought him inside, and he remembered being loaded into an ambulance, with Celine by his side, holding his hand.

A few days later, Damien was feeling a little more himself. He was still confined to his bed in the hospital, but he was awake and alert. That was when he learned that William had shot him in the knee. William was apologizing profusely, saying he hadn’t meant to, it was an accident, he thought he was aiming at the tree.

“Will, calm down,” Damien consoled. “I’ll be alright, there’s no need to worry.”

Damien didn’t realize just how long it would be until he was up and walking again.

He went through three or four operations in an attempt to repair the damage to his left knee. The shot hadn’t been direct; the round had hit more to the side of his kneecap, shattering part of it, but not shattering the entire joint. The doctors did what they could to piece things back together, but there was only so much they could do. After all the operations, Damien had to go through weeks of therapy in order to even take a few steps. He was on crutches for what felt like ages, he wore various braces for years, and used a cane to get around after that.

He did his best to walk unassisted when he could, being the stubborn man he was, especially when it came time for his mayoral campaign. He wanted to seem strong, he didn’t want the public to see him relying on a cane, didn’t want them to see him limping.

Will had always been apologetic about what had happened; he almost never had a gun out around Damien after the incident. Damien always reminded him that it was an accident. They were just kids at the time, after all, they didn’t know better. He didn’t hold any grudge against his friend.

He’d never admit to Will’s face just how frustrating the lasting toll the injury took on him really was.

There were days where his knee hurt so badly he couldn’t stand. Days where he wouldn’t leave the house because he didn’t want to be seen leaning heavily on a cane with his knee braced. He snapped at doctors, at peers, at his own sister, some days, when the pain and limitations became just too much.

His campaign pushed his limits some days. All the events he went to, the debates, the rallies, and everything else, it all took a toll on his knee. Damien had to be on his feet so much, and he couldn’t just skip out on things; it would make him seem unreliable if he did. He did what he could to stick it out, made as many of the events as he could.

The colder months were a blessing and a curse. The cold often lead to more stiffness in his knee, causing it to be sore more often than not. But, he often wore long coats during colder weather, which he made sure would fall beyond his knees, allowing him to wear one of his braces. It wasn’t his best brace, but it was better than nothing.

It was early spring when the campaign ended, when all Damien could do was wait and hope he’d done enough. He waited inside, his fingers crossed. Justice, a friend from his years in university, was by his side, trying to help calm his anxieties, as well as offering some support to keep Damien’s weight off his injured knee, which was starting to act against the man once again.

Celine rushed in, carrying something behind her back. The results were about to be announced, Damien had to show his face out there, especially if it was him who ended up the victor.

“Celine!” Damien called, as his sister approached. “You said you would be here almost half an hour ago.”

“I know, I know,” Celine stated, placing a hand on her brother’s shoulder. “I needed to pick something up.”

“I need to get outside,” Damien told her, already beginning to pull away from Justice. “What did you need to pick up?” he questioned, knowing full well his sister would be following him. He didn’t get an answer, and simply rolled his eyes as he stepped outside, just in time for the man up on the stage to begin reading off the final results in front of him.

It barely registered that it was his name being read off.

“Just a little something for you, Mayor Damien,” Celine finally told him, offering a cane to her stunned brother. The object was brand new, and straight as an arrow; the main body a shiny black, with a silver tip and ornate silver topper.

Damien took the cane in his hands, speechless. It felt as if time had stopped, at least until he felt Celine taking hold of his shoulders and turning him around.

“Well, go on! You need to say something to them!”

The new mayor took a breath, and stood a little straighter as he scanned the audience. Hundreds, thousands of eyes were trained on him. He took a deep breath, and planted the silver tip of the cane on the ground, finding that it felt far more sturdy than his older ones. He took his first steps with it up onto the stage, and felt the wave of energy from the audience wash over him as he walked to the podium with confidence.

They were some of the most confident steps he’d taken since he was a teenager.

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

Dark felt fairly decent when he got up in the morning. His shoulders and neck didn’t feel as bad as they had for some time. He felt like today was going to be a good day.

That was until he went to actually get out of bed. His left knee practically gave out on him.

He thought back to that day so many years ago. When Damien had been shot in the knee. That injury had been a part of him for so long. Even though he was no longer in Damien’s body, he could feel the injury all the same.

Dark sighed, looking to the mess of pink hair beside him, still sleeping. Wilford didn’t remember the incident from what he could tell. It was for the best, really. He always claimed that it was simply his chronic pain that occasionally lead to him bracing his knee, or using a cane. He didn’t mention the damage that had been done by a stray bullet.

So, Dark simply braced himself against the wall, going about his usual routine. He showered, did his makeup, got dressed. He was sitting in the chair in the corner of the room when Wil woke up, strapping his brace into place to support his knee.

“One of those days, Darky?” Wil tiredly asked, getting out of bed and approaching his husband, wrapping his arms around the man’s shoulders and kissing his cheek.

“Mm-hm. One of those days,” Dark responded, returning his husband’s sleepy kiss.

Wil nodded, and picked up Dark’s cane from the corner. Dark took it from him, running his thumb over the topper for a moment before standing up.

“I’m going to head down to the dining room. I’ll see you at breakfast,” he mused, giving Wilford a final kiss to the cheek before making his way out of the room.

He found an odd comfort in the sound of the silver tip of the cane against the wood floors of the manor. It was a familiar sound, one that Damien had found oddly comforting for years, and one that Dark now found oddly soothing. With the brace on his knee, and the cane in his hand, Dark walked with a surprising confidence, despite the lasting injuries that tried to slow him down.

#markiplier egos #tw: gun mention #tw: gun violence #accidental shooting #poor gun safety #accidental kneecapping #description of injuries #chronic pain #long term injuries #Damien the Mayor #Celine the Seer #William the Colonel #Wilford Warstache #Darkiplier #Darkstache #pre-canon #long post

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endersketch · 4 years

Text

An Apology - Please Read the whole thing

Last year around August, I joined an ego discord server. It was a wonderful server run by someone I still think of as a friend, even if we don’t talk anymore. And for good reason. I was not kind then… and I realize now why. It wasn’t a good place for me, and perhaps it wasn’t a good place to be after so much had happened within. The inner circles of that place were run differently then I would have liked, at the time. We had a Not Safe For Work chat that was only open to those of age, 18 or older. I was very overly sexual, and it upset and made some people uncomfortable. I wanted to be sexual with people I thought were comfortable with it, and at one point they probably were. But as I kept going, I assume it quickly became bad. People messaged me about it, and I was quick to apologize. But I was still angry.

I never publicly expressed this, but I did to this friend. I wanted to be in a relationship with him, and when he said no I got angry, annoyed. I tried to open his eyes to what life actually was, and how he couldn’t be this person forever. But it wasn’t my place. I did some awful things I’m not proud of. I say some things that I know now are wrong and I left. It wasn’t right of me to control them, or try to let them control me. It was very different than ‘the group of friends’ I wanted them to be. I wish now that someone had opened my eyes to what I was doing and I didn’t have to do it myself. But that is the best way to learn.

During this time I was in another server run by Bird of Prey. He was very kind to me, the other people on the server let me rant out my troubles and I thought I had found friends. This was all around my birthday, when I finally left the other server for good. During that time several people had blocked my old friend over things that I had told them. This brought up some screenshots of our conversations and Bird of Prey brought it to my attention. I was upset and confused, hurt that someone had taken private screenshots and shown them to him. I explained I was not proud of what I said. At this point I had realized that it wasn’t right, that it wasn’t my place to control him or what he should be. I was regretful and deeply sorry for what I had done and I was trying to change. He, thankfully, supported me. And it was something I was truthful about. Even now, I am trying to change. And I will forever be grateful that he came to me, to hear my side.

By this point I had created my own server on the side, asking some friends if they would like to join. It would be a smaller server stemming off of the one Bird of Prey had made. My own manor, where we could do as we pleased. I will say, I had mostly created it for nsfw purposes, but I picked who was able to join based on how I knew them on Bird’s. Every member was over 18, I made sure of this, having dealt with minors accidentally getting into other servers before. Here we could roleplay our characters, our egos, and ourselves as we pleased. We had a pair of great months, at least from my perspective. We roleplayed and grew our characters and I loved them all. I was very close with two of the members and I had hoped to visit them this summer. But this is where the trouble happened. I will now tie together the original call out post by Starybinch, and my own experience.

There were a few things that upset me, specifically over Starybinch’s egos. I was at one point very close to his Blue Google: Beta. Beta was someone I cared deeply for, I wanted to rp and talk with him and do so many things. But Starybinch stopped roleplaying him. He had mentioned off hand that someone kept bugging him about him. I knew it was me, I felt awful. Suddenly all of Julian’s egos seemed rude to me, mean and accusing of so many small things. I wish I had talked to him about it straight on, especially since I had a hunch the reason he wasn’t playing Beta was because of me. I’m a firm believer, after everything I’ve done, that talking it out is the best action. We were both adults, both people perfectly capable of placing out our differences and trying to find common ground. But I didn’t. And I believe that was my fault. I wish I had. I was angry and upset that everyone else was getting their Google bot interaction, and everytime I tried to do something, they would lash out, even after I tried to apologize. But I believe that all ties into the next thing.

Hindsight is 20/20. I fully believe this. As we roleplayed I jumped into conversations with egos, I tried interacting where other people were busy. At the time I thought I was not doing anything wrong, nothing anyone else had done. It was rude of me to do these things. However, it was too late when I realized how sevier this problem was to others. I realized this when Starybinch’s Host lashed out at me. I was deeply hurt, and truly sorry for doing this. I messaged him and asked if everything was okay. And this was for everything, I wanted to know what I had done to make the egos hate me, if I had done anything to Starybinch to make the emotions he was feeling bleed into his roleplay. I’ve seen it done in the past. At the time I didn’t realize they’d told me about twice to shut up and let people talk. Starybinch said “everything was fine.” But now I see it wasn’t. I know I should have realized I was doing something wrong before I had to ask, but I also wish that Starybinch had told me what was wrong instead of saying everything was fine. I wish he hadn’t felt like he had to keep the problems with me secret.

Then the anon came. They started threatening Starybinch. It was something that caused him to leave once and come back. I felt so awful that something like this was happening to a friend of mine. Worse, they were mentioning a server. He thought it was either of the two main ones he was in, mine and Bird of Prey’s. That happened a few weeks ago, before everything went to shit. The anon was quiet, for a while, until they came back full force. They mentioned things from my server, egos that Starybinch had played. Things he had done. Instantly, StarShineRobotic turned on me. Blaming me for everything, all these awful things being said. I was broken, I was shaken. Pleading for anyone to listen to me that I hadn’t sent those. I never would. But several people left. The server was dead. Something that was once so lively and active was suddenly barren. StarShine left, one of Starybinch’s friends left. Starybinch had left before the accusations began because of the anons. I was heartbroken, I was angry they would accuse me of something I would never think of doing. I tried working with my remaining friends to see what could be done. To see if someone would come forward. No one did. We never found out who sent those anons.

I couldn’t believe anyone in our server would do this. At the time we were just pointing fingers, trying to figure out who on the server could do this. We kept pointing fingers at everyone, unable to see how anyone could be the anon. But all the pointing fingers came back to me. The anon conntinued to mention things that could only be known if they were in the server. The anon also mentioned a different server which surprised me, since we hadn’t talked about another server and I didn’t know of one.

I know now that everyone of them had another server, one that everyone else had for months. Starybinch confessed this when he snapped at me, but I’ll mention that later.

I was so sure everything had been fine these past few months. But then again, what did I know. My anxiety was through the roof as everyone was pressuring me, trying to make me do something, someone needed to go but who? I eventually kicked 3 people. We were down to 5. Our group of 14 had shrunk so fast over something that could have been talked out. Starybinch returned and we sat there for a while, trying to figure out who. I was exhausted, I was tired, emotionally distressed over what to do about this. I was having to manage a group of friends over something so horrid, so awful. At the time I had the terrifying thought that someone was framing me, but I didn’t know who.

The anon continued to send asks, threatening to come to Starybinch’s house and kill his dog, Taffy. The sweetest dog ever. If this was the point that people would believe me, it wasn’t. They accused me still, wondering why and how I could do such a thing. How I could say homophobic and transphobic things to a friend, how I could tell someone to kill themselves. It wasn’t me, I told them over and over. I swore on my life, on my friendships, on the love I had for two specific people… people I thought loved me too.

Starybinch and I had a moment of clarity when I explained everything I have written here today. Obviously I didn’t want to mention some of the things, as I thought most of them had been resolved. Starybinch had come forward to say he was upset because of how much attention I had been getting over his bots. How much they had started to love me. He was angry that I was able to interact but not him. I told him how I had been upset over everything as well. I didn’t want anything between us. I told the truth, I spilled my heart to someone I trusted and loved with my whole heart. However, not 10 mins later he told me the real truth.

Starybinch told me everything, things began to unfold. He told me how everyone had hated me since February, how everything I had done was wrong. How they had screenshots and receipts long past. How he hated me, how they had another server. How they have proof the anons were me and how I was making everyone uncomfortable. They gave me screenshots of role plays I thought were just stories. They told me I was obsessive, controlling, how I had made everyone hate me so fast. And I will tell you now some truths.

Yes I posted nudes, I thought I did in a group of friends. No one said anything about it. I thought I was in a trusted group where I could do this, show something I was proud of. I made fun in rps because it’s a roleplay. They are characters. If you as the runner were uncomfortable you should have told me, you should have told me so much sooner about everything! Why didn’t you, why did you drag it out just to give this big reveal? No one came to my aid, no one believed me. I had no one, no one to believe me, no one to support me. They were sorry that my “rich and privileged upbringing had made me so blind to other people’s troubles” how I was selfish and awful and controlling.

To another point, I have never erotically roleplayed with a minor. I will tell you that I was close, and I did flirt with two blogs on tumblr that I had no idea were minors. They were a Darkiplier and Googleplier rp blog of two friends. When I discovered that they were minors I stopped. I stopped and explained how I was uncomfortable with it. They were cool and we maybe talked on and off for about a month. I haven’t talked with them since. This was about a year ago. Every since I’ve been very careful with who I roleplay with. I ask and make sure I know the person well before even getting into nsfw territory.

This entire thing drove me straight down into a dark place. I was very lucky that when I left the voice call that I was in, that my friend sent my brother to check up on me. I am very lucky for my real friends, my family and my partner for supporting me through this hard time.

I have shown you I have done awful things… things that I’m not proud of. I can show you I’m trying to change and I’m growing. I can assure you that after all of this I will take a long time to learn from my past before going back. But if there is one thing I wouldn’t do, it’s wish the death of another person. I would never threaten someone or their pets, no matter how much I like, or dislike them. I would never try to do these things.

I am sorry that I’ve done these things, I will be sorry about it for the rest of my life. I never want to be like that person again, and I will use what I have learned to fix that. I will be taking a long hiatus from tumblr, and maybe posting on my other platforms. I will take this time to focus on growing. I will learn and change in this time of rest and recovery. I wish I didn’t and I wish that others didn’t have to make a post like that about me. I never wanted my past conversations used or shown to the public. I wish I could have seen where I was wrong. I’m sorry for all of this.

#endersketch #Important #Please read #tw drama #hiatus #Hopefully this clears some stuff up #I hope a lot of people see this

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backtobasicbellas · 4 years

Text

she’s the missing beat

Word Count: 2,525 Relationships: Zoe Benson/Madison Montgomery Summary: Zoe misses Madison. Mallory notices

A/N: Merry Christmas! Felt a little inspired today and whipped this up.

Zoe doesn’t miss Madison.

Madison Montgomery was quite literally the biggest pain in her ass - maybe even the Coven’s ass as a whole - and though what happened to her still stings, still reminds Zoe of how this is entirely the two of their faults to begin with, she doesn’t miss her.

Kyle Spencer should have never been brought back; he should have stayed dead instead of being resurrected in parts that weren’t his and a brain that didn’t function right.

But Kyle choked Madison to death and lied about it to Zoe until the secrets spilled over and he was put to the stake. That was the end of that.

(And in the process Zoe lost two people who meant something to her - though she never quite got a grasp on her and Madison’s relationship.

Madison Montgomery was always something in her life, Zoe knows that much.)

But Cordelia suggests everyone clean out their rooms in early December so they can donate what they don’t need anymore to the orphanage two blocks away and it’s only then that Zoe finds an old pack of cigarettes hidden away with two miniatures of vodka and rum hidden in an old winter coat Madison has forced her to buy, insisting it would help her look “a little less like a fucking loser.”

If anything, the sight of these should cue an eye roll paired with a scoff. It’s so typically Madison; so reckless and ridiculous, using Zoe as a cover more often than not.

But as Zoe stares at the items in her hands, something hits her in her gut. It twists in a painful way she doesn’t recognize. Instead of bringing back every stupid thing Madison’s dragged her into, Zoe thinks about the time they snuck one of Fiona’s expensive bourbon bottles into their bedroom and sipped it warm with coca cola, getting drunk for no other reason than Madison deciding it’d be a great way to spend a Wednesday night. She thinks about the rare moments Madison would laugh a full, bellied laugh and looked like maybe - just maybe - she didn’t hate the entire world.

Mallory, who had been helping Zoe out, notices the suddenly lack of movement and turns from Zoe’s pile of shoes.

“Zoe, what’s wrong?” she asks, walking over to her friend.

Zoe can’t speak for a moment, still entranced by the items inn her hand.

“Zoe?” Mallory repeats, standing next to her now.

“These were Madison’s,” Zoe finally says, seemingly able to find her voice.

“Oh.” Realization is clear in Mallory’s tone. It’s almost like she backs away from the gravity of the moment between them.

(If Mallory’s being honest, she kind of forgot about bringing Madison back from hell.

She’s been too caught up in pretending that she’s still somewhat new around here, really.)

“Of course she’d hide them in my coat,” Zoe scoffs, trying to make light of the situation as she wraps her fingers around the items in her hand.

There’s a pause and then, “Do you miss her?”

A slight hesitation is clear, but Zoe shakes her head as she says, “Madison Montgomery was the biggest problem in my life.”

“That’s not an answer,” Mallory tells her.

Zoe rolls her eyes, turning to face her friend. “She caused so much trouble. How am I supposed to miss that?”

Mallory bites her tongue then, watching as Zoe tosses the cigarettes and miniatures - which Mallory would’ve totally taken for herself, by the way - into the trash can next to her desk.

“She couldn’t have been all that bad,” Mallory suggests lightly.

Zoe gives her a look. “She tries to steal my zombie boyfriend, sabotaged basically all of us at one point, and refused to bring me back to life before throwing a hissy fit about not being the Supreme.”

She decides to leave out being ambushed in the bathroom and forced to join a threesome in the mix, but, you know, that wasn’t exactly the worst thing to happen.

Mallory grimaces then, knowing she can’t give away the secrets she holds so close. But she watches Zoe’s eyes, because even as she lists off all the terrible things Madison Montgomery did the first time around, there’s something there, something that hints that Zoe misses the chaos of Madison Montgomery.

As they continue to find more of Zoe’s things to donate, Mallory can’t help but notice how Zoe will glance at Madison’s unused bed. She thinks she knows what to do.

"You want to do what?” Coco screeches.

“It’ll be fine,” Mallory insists. “I’ll only be knocked out for a few hours.”

“A few - are you Insane?” Coco asks with wild eyes. “That’s like, one of the tests for a Supreme. You can’t seriously - there’s no way you can do this.”

Mallory winces. “Actually, I can.”

“What?”

Mallory sighs, patting the spot next to her on the bed. “This is gonna be a long explanation.”

They’re hanging out in Zoe’s room again, listening to one of the vinyl’s Mallory and Coco bought Zoe for her birthday and reading - except, Zoe’s not actually reading. Once again, Mallory catches her staring at Madison’s bed across from them, untouched and showing almost no signs of the former roommate.

Mallory puts her book down, looking pointedly at Zoe.

“It’s okay to miss her, you know.”

Zoe’s head whips around to face her and she blinks. “What?”

“Madison,” Mallory shrugs. “It’s okay to miss her even if she wasn’t the best person in the world.”

Zoe sighs. “You didn’t know her, Mallory. Madison’s probably the last person I should ever want to be around.”

"You don’t know apocalypse Madison,” Mallory mumbles.

“Huh?”

Mallory clears her throat. “Tell me about her then.”

Zoe looks at her for a long moment before she sighs and runs a hand through her hair.

“She was probably the most complicated person I’d ever known,” Zoe says with an eye roll. “An absolute brat for sure, but she was one hell of a witch.”

Mallory smiles at that, encouraging Zoe to continue.

“I don’t know, Madison and I were just...I think I’m the closest thing to a best friend she’s ever had. She’d insult me one moment and then force me into doing something with her the next. I mean, I was basically depressed after Kyle died she brought me to the damn morgue to bring him back to life.”

There’s a ghost of a smile on Zoe’s lips now, the memory coming clearly to her. She remembers thinking Madison was in isane, but one look at that smirk and the excitement behind Madison’s eyes and she was a goner.

Mallory nudges her gently. “It sounds like you made her care about other people sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” Zoe shrugs. “Other times, she’d still be the same selfish Madison I knew. I just wonder…”

“Wonder what?”

“If she was still here,” Zoe says, her voice quiet now. “Would she still be the same?”

Mallory wants to tell her about the last life they’d lived together. She wants to tell her that even though Zoe and Madison never figured out their problems, the lengths Madison went for this coven was something due to growth, to Zoe pushing her to be better.

“There’s no real way to know,” Mallory offers instead.

They’re in the attic on Christmas Eve, just Mallory and Coco. Everyone else is probably in their rooms asleep by now, and it’s not until Mallory knows for sure Cordelia is asleep that she drags Coco upstairs.

“This place is creepy,” Coco whines, looking around. “I heard their old server kept a baby in here.”

“He did, Zoe told me,” Mallory says distractedly, lighting candles and placing them in a circle around the floor.

“I don’t know about this,” Coco admits, looking at the candles. “This is dangerous.”

“I told you, I brought Misty back this way.”

“Yeah but that was months ago! Can you still do it?”

Mallory looks up at her. “I’ve got this.”

Once the candles are set and lit, Mallory places herself in the middle. She sits down, looking at Coco who has a book of spells in her lap and a worried expression on her face a few feet away.

“Don’t let anyone come up here,” Mallory reminds her. “And if I don’t -”

“You will,” Coco tells her in a firm voice. “We’re making Christmas cookies for Cordelia tomorrow, you bitch.”

Mallory only offers half a smile before she’s laying flat on her back murmuring the latin chant she hasn’t used in so long. There’s a moment, and then she’s being sucked into the underworld.

“Has anyone seen Mallory or Coco?”

“We can’t open presents without them!”

Cordelia sighs, looking at Zoe and Queenie.

“I haven’t seen them since dinner last night,” Queenie shrugs.

“Zoe, will you please go check on them?” Cordelia asks, looking somewhat exasperated.

Zoe nods, getting up from her position on the couch. “I’m on it.”

She’s only halfway down the hall to their bedroom when she hears commotion coming down from the attic.

“What the - Coco?”

Coco - who looks bewildered and like she barely got any sleep - jumps. “Zoe! Hey - Merry Christmas!”

Zoe narrows her eyes. “What were you doing up in the attic?”

“Oh um, nothing!” Coco answers almost immediately. “What are you doing up here?”

“You and Mallory are the only ones still not downstairs,” Zoe informs her as she crosses her arms. “I was on the way to your room.”

“No! No I’m right here, no need to go to our room,” Coco insists, immediately rushing over to Zoe.

She’s practically shoving Zoe around and pushing her back down the hallway with speed.

“But where’s Mallory?” Zoe asks, attempting to dig her heels into the ground.

Coco laughs a little too loudly before answering, “Mal’s coming down in a second. You know her - loves to sleep in on holidays and all that.”

“Since when?”

Coco ignores her question and manages to get Zoe downstairs and with the rest of them. Zoe is sporting a confused look with furrowed eyebrows, but she’s stopped fighting Coco.

“Coco, where’s Mallory?” Cordelia asks when the come down the stairs, notices both of their frazzled states.

“She’s coming,” Coco promises, ushering Zoe onto the couch. “Let’s all just sit!”

Cordelia’s eyes shift to Zoe who only offers a lost expression and a shrug. Queenie eyes Coco suspiciously.

Cordelia lets out a sigh, deciding this is something she’s rather not get into in front of the entire coven on Christmas morning. Misty rubs her back encouragingly, and it’s enough to push Cordelia forward.

“Alright, why don’t we start since Mallory’s coming,” she suggests. “Queenie why don’t you -”

“Wait!”

There’s a scatter and hurried, loud footsteps coming down the stairs and everyone’s heads turn to see Mallory clambering down the stairs almost like a puppy or a newborn deer. She skids to a somewhat smooth stop a few feet away from the bottom of the staircase with wide eyes.

“Good morning Mallory, nice of you to join us,” Cordelia greets, slight sarcasm laced in her tone.

“Can I go first?” Mallory asks, out of breath. “I have a present for Zoe.”

Zoe tilts her head. “For me?”

Mallory nods vigorously, then look at Cordelia with pleading eyes.

“Please? Well - I mean I guess it’s for like, the rest of the council, too.”

Cordelia gives Mallory a once over before she’s shifting her gaze to her two Council members. Zoe shrugs as if to say it’s up to Cordelia while Queenine looks like she wants to see how this plays out. It’s enough for Cordelia to give Mallory the nod of approval.

Mallory smiles for a moment at her before she’s turning her head to the top of the staircase and giving a nod.

“Mallory I swear if you brought home a dog without asking-” Cordelia starts, but the thread falls off her lips when she catches sight of the figure coming down the stairs.

Dressed in all black and designer boots, Madison Montgomery walks down the staircase with her arms crossed and a guarded attitude. She feels the eyes of every single member of the coven on her and in true Madison fashion, she basks in it.

“Holy shit,” Queenie gapes.

“Oh my word,” Misty breathes.

But Zoe? Zoe is stunned to silence, unable to pull her gaze away from the blonde meeting Mallory at the bottom of the stairs.

“Madison,” Cordelia finally says, trying to reign in her shock.

Madison’s lips tilt up in that infamous smirk, her gaze focused mainly on Zoe.

“Merry Christmas, bitches. Thought you’d seen the last of me?”

Mallory inwardly groans at the comment, but she can’t help the fact she’s smiling.

Zoe isn’t quite sure what she’s feeling right now. What should she be feeling, anyway? She should feel angry, because why does Madison deserve another chance? She should feel relieved because there’s always been a Madison sized whole she’s ignored for years. She should be grateful that Mallory knew exactly what needed to be done. About a thousand emotions are swimming through her at once, and with it so many memories of her and Madison

For a moment, they all just stare at Madison before Misty and Cordelia are striding over to pull Madison into a hug she for once doesn’t fight. Queenie rolls her eyes but gets up and joins too, and after a moment’s hesitation Zoe is slowly following behind.

“You’re alive,” Cordelia muses when she pulls away.

Madison raises an eyebrow. “Wonder Girl over here worked a little Christmas miracle just for you.”

“It’s good to have you back, Maddie,” Misty grins.

“I’m letting you get away with calling me that because it’s Christmas.”

Queenie snorts. “Don’t tell me you’ve gotten soft on me now. I’ve been holding down your bitch reputation while you were gone.”

Madison rolls her eyes, but she’s laughing when Queenie pulls her into a hug. When she pulls away, Zoe is standing there in an impossibly adorable and awkward way, unsure of her next move.

“What,” Madison starts, quirking an eyebrow at her. “Did living on your own get too boring?”

Her comment seems to snap Zoe out of her hesitation because she steps forward with a scoff, “Hell hasn’t changed you at all, has it?”

“You don’t even know,” Madison says, hugging Zoe without another thought.

Zoe misses the way Madison’s words fall flat due to the truth behind them, that there are things she doesn’t understand and Madison can only wish to tell her.

“I’m sorry,” Madison murmurs as they hug, only for Zoe. “For, you know, everything.”

And it’s not specific in any way, but Zoe knows exactly what she means. There is still so much to be explained - and Zoe isn’t completely sure she knows what this dynamic is with Madison - but she knows that things are different. There is a shift with her return that brings hope and that excited feeling in Zoe’s chest.

Zoe sighs softly, holding onto Madison a little tighter. “I’m sorry, too.”

She looks past Madison’s shoulder to Mallory, who’s looking at them smile a warm smile.

“Thank you,” she mouths.

Mallory grins.

#zadison #mine #minific #american horror story #zoe benson #madison montgomery

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howtodrawyourdragon · 4 years

Text

A Warm Snoggletog Heart

Summary: Set during RttE. The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? A celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

And this year, they have something particularly special in mind for Hiccup.

Rating: General

Words: 1 481

Author’s Notes: Wrote this in a day because someone from a whump Discord server I'm a part of gave me the motivation for it. Usually, I wait with posting fics until the weekends, so there's a little bit of time between finishing and revising it one last time before I post it. But I wanted it out before tomorrow and since I'll probably be gone tomorrow, I decided to do it all today.

Constructive criticism is appreciated!

Enjoy!

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The Riders decided that one of the best things about having Dragon's Edge was the excuse to celebrate everything twice.

A birthday? They would have a party on both Berk and the Edge. A holiday? Again, a celebration on Berk and the Edge. Snoggletog? That absolutely needed to be celebrated twice!

So when Snoggletog came around, Hiccup and the Dragon Riders returned home to share this time with their families only to then go back to their base away from home to share it with just each other.

It wasn't as crazy as their parents probably thought it was going to be.

Astrid used her iron fist to make sure the decorations put up were perfect and up to her standards as she and Tuffnut worked together on that. Snotlout and Ruffnut were put in charge of gathering the favorite meals of the dragons so they would have something of a feast as well. And Fishlegs was made to help Hiccup get dinner ready.

All in all, it wasn't supposed to be a big celebration. It was rather small and intimate, held in the clubhouse.

That was where they were. They'd just eaten dinner, it was time for presents.

Snotlout may have actually squealed in excitement. Astrid already promised him she would never let him live that down.

"An axe! Yes!" Astrid shouted excitedly, holding the double-headed weapon. It was much like Heather's, except more her style. Less rough and more elegant. With complimentary skulls. Her cheeks and eyes lit up.

"Oh yay! Another one!" Snotlout rolled his eyes next to her.

"Thank you, Hiccup!" She told him, though her smile was more than enough of a gift for him.

"Uh, how do you know it didn't come from us?" Ruffnut asked.

"Because it's an axe, Ruff. Do you know how to make one?" She asked, though she wasn't particularly annoyed. Her day was made.

"Heather and I actually collaborated on that one. She mentioned to me how you really wanted one like hers, so we worked on it together. We each did one half and we exchanged some secrets. Blacksmith to blacksmith. It's like a Snoggletog gift and a "thank you for letting me stay in your hut" gift combined." Hiccup explained. As Astrid took a closer look, she did see some marks she didn't recognize as made by Hiccup's hand.

So this was Heather's signature. She would remember them too.

"So... What did I get?" Fishlegs could hardly wait. He was having a hard time sitting still on his chair.

It was Snotlout who gave him his present.

"From me to you." He told him and gave it to him in the most dramatic Snotlout-esque way possible.

"Awww, thank you, Snotlout!" Fishlegs responded as he accepted the gift. It appeared to be a book. Opening it up, he found detailed sketches of plants inside and he gasped.

"Is this what I think it is?!"

"The Beauty of Botany Volume Three? That's exactly what you're looking at!" Snotlout exclaimed. It was hidden behind a smirk, but he was just as excited as Fishlegs was. Snoggletog was one of the few times a year he let his generosity shine. This side to him was exclusively for Snoggletog and birthdays only.

Fishlegs grinned from ear to ear as he skimmed through its pages. He was as happy as a Nadder at a Chicken buffet.

"So everyone's got their presents, only one victim remains." Ruffnut was particularly menacing as she spoke up, leaning on her knees with her elbows.

Snotlout's gift had been a bludgeon similar to his very first, which he had lost again. The twins had absolutely nothing to do with its disappearance, they had assured Snotlout of this.

What Tuffnut was given was something made for Chicken. It was a little custom-made bed for her because Tuff had complained about it being unfair that he got a bed, but not Chicken.

As for Ruff's gift, it was a handmade lotion of fish oil for her hair created out of rare and exotic ingredients that were quite expensive on the market. She had immediately slathered her hair with it.

Hiccup was the person she was talking about, but for once, he wasn't particularly worried. The Riders watched as Tuffnut got up to grab it.

He quickly returned with something obscured by cloth and he handed it over to Hiccup, who took it.

He stared at the gift his friends decided to give him. He was certainly curious, that was for sure. It was the only one wrapped up.

He didn't quite notice it, all of his attention was on the object held in his hands, but anticipation amongst the Riders grew. They were all sitting on the edge of their seats as they watched Hiccup unwrap it.

It turned out to be a plush toy. Of Toothless! Well, he was pretty sure it was a stuffed animal version of his Night Fury, it looked quite odd.

"It's Toothless!" He was puzzled, but he was smiling nonetheless. The Night Fury himself came over from his corner to sit closer to look at the toy when he heard his name leave Hiccup's lips. He was intrigued.

But Hiccup's smile slowly faltered as he took a closer look at Toy Toothless' oddities.

He had tiny, tiny skulls for eyes. The kind he knew only one person to wear, except they were even smaller. He recognized Snotlout's stitching. The "hide" was knitted patches of black wool. Toothless' "nubs" were braided in a very specific way. And if he had to guess, the stuffing must be chicken feathers.

That's when it hit him.

His friends had made this for him. All of them had left their marks on it. This was something they worked on together. For him!

He was speechless.

"Take another look at the skulls." Hiccup didn't know when his friends decided to move in behind him, but he noticed when Astrid spoke up and pointed towards the plush's eyes. He did as he was told and saw that they were painted a dark green. Forest green.

"Do you think he realizes we made it for him?" Tuffnut asked his sister in whispers loud enough for all of them to hear.

"Oh yeah, I think he does." Ruffnut replied, proud of herself. Her arms were crossed in fulfillment.

As Hiccup looked at its eyes, there was one more detail on the doll left for him to find out.

Turning it slightly, he noticed that his emblem had been stitched onto it.

They had all put little bits and pieces of themselves in the toy and they made sure a little bit of Hiccup was in there as well.

"We saw that you brought the toy your mom made you to the Edge and thought "Hey! You like that one! Why not make another one?" So we did!" Snotlout explained. It looked like he'd been waiting to do so.

The Riders had expected many different reactions from Hiccup. Long ago, when the idea had first struck them, they even decided to take a bet and see who could nail their leader's reaction.

They hadn't expected him to cry.

Tears spilled from his eyes and he sniffed. His smile was the biggest they'd ever seen on his face.

"Hiccup?" Astrid asked, hands on his shoulders. Hiccup let his head hang as a single sob escaped.

"Oh no, we broke him!" Tuffnut loudly exclaimed with his hands on his helmet. Ruffnut smacked him hard.

"Look what you've done to him!" She accused him of an utmost heinous crime. Snotlout came and banged their helmets together.

"Ugh, muttonheads!"

Maybe it was all the stress getting to him or maybe he truly was that touched by their gesture, but Hiccup couldn't help himself.

"Hiccup?"

"I'm-I'm fine, guys. I'm fine." The level of control in his voice backed it up.

"I'm just... I'm just really touched, I..." He tried wiping his cheeks dry with his sleeves, but it was useless.

Smiling sympathetically, Astrid bend down to wrap her arms around his shoulders to pull him into a hug. The waterworks were going with her too, albeit slightly less than they were with Hiccup.

"So sensitive!" Snotlout complained with a shake of his head, even though he jumped on the chance to share a group hug with the rest of the Riders. He grabbed both Astrid and Hiccup into a hold that was more of a headlock than an actual hug. They laughed.

"Ah-ha! A way to fix this!" Tuffnut joked and embraced the three of them. Huffing, Ruffnut joined in.

"Oh, you guys!" Fishlegs spoke and completed the hug by wrapping his arms around the entire group.

All of them smiled, nobody let go. The toy dragon his mother made for him so long ago now had a friend. And Hiccup, he found this to be the warmest Snoggletog yet.

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noreasonjustbored · 5 years

Text

Absence Makes the Heart Grow Jealous

Part 1:

Charlotte and Henry started dating a few months before their high school graduation. Everyone thought that it was a bad idea for them to begin a relationship because they were already set to go to separate colleges. Henry decided to attend the local community college, so that he could still be Kid Danger, and Charlotte would be a few hours away at Stanford on a full ride.

Before deciding to take the risk, they agreed that it wouldn’t work if both parties were not 110% committed. Knowing that they both wanted to make ‘them’ work above all else helped them to persevere through the rough patches. In the beginning the miles apart placed a strain on their relationship since they were so used to seeing each other every day. But they adjusted, they really put in the time and effort needed keep their relationship afloat. The distance eventually forced them to have better communication skills. They learned to articulate how they were feeling more concisely since they couldn’t read each other’s body language through text.

Since starting school they had both grown up a lot more. Charlotte decided to make the most of her college experience. She absolutely focused on her academics, but she wasn’t afraid to hit up a frat party every once in a while. She really found her stride in clothing design and would sometimes even sport her own looks to these events. Her wardrobe as a whole was more diversified. While her new clothes were far from risqué, she did show a little skin more often than not. She was overall a more confident and open person.

Henry was maturing in his own ways as well. He was taking over more responsibility when it came to the superhero business and the regular business. He would go out on missions alone frequently and only requested Ray for backup when absolutely necessary. Henry was really coming into his own as a hero. He was even considering rebranding himself and retiring his Kid Danger moniker for good. He couldn't yet decide between Man Danger, Sir Danger or Mr. Danger. He would have to workshop the name a little more.

It had been almost a year since Charlotte and Henry became official. In that time, they learned a lot about each other. Individually and as a couple. Charlotte learned that Henry was extremely needy and possessive and jealous. Henry learned that Charlotte was not.

Sometimes it bothered Henry that Charlotte was so nonchalant about people hitting on him. They had once been on a date where the waitress flirted with Henry the ENTIRE time. She was even so bold to leave her number on the receipt with a winky face next to her name. Charlotte didn’t even bat an eyelash. And he knows that Char noticed, she was way too observant not to pick on the very obvious server. She didn’t make any comments about it during or after the dinner.

He, on the other hand was always claiming her in front of random people. He couldn’t leave her alone for two seconds without coming back to some schmuck shooting their shot. Guy after guy were constantly getting curved by his beautiful girlfriend. That didn’t stop Henry from making his place known. A glare and a not so subtle hand around her waist or shoulder usually did the trick. He just wanted to drive home to these dudes that they had zero chance, not with his Char.

Henry figured that he should be happy that she was so secure in their relationship. And he was happy, but maybe he would like to see a little jealousy every once in a while. Charlotte had such a casual attitude towards the attention he got from other women, and sometimes men, that it felt like she didn’t care at all. He knew that he had already hit the jackpot with Charlotte, she was truly one of the best things to happen to him. He just wanted to feel as if the same was true for her.

Their first anniversary would fall during spring break so he convinced Charlotte to let him plan the entire week. She was hesitant to leave everything in his hands but conceded after a few days of pleading and pouting over FaceTime. She almost couldn’t believe how quickly she caved after seeing Henry’s adorable puppy dog expression. She did always find it hard to resist those beautiful brown eyes. Especially when combined with his hopeful begging to, “Just trust me babe. Pleeeaase.” Charlotte folded like fresh laundry.

Henry decided that they would go to New York for their break. Charlotte loved musicals and fashion, both of which there was an abundance of in New York. He decided that he would take her to a Broadway show, a concert and a runway show. He was ambitious.

During his research for the trip Henry discovered that the first installment of the official New York Fashion Week was hosted every February. They had already missed it but there were usually a series of smaller, more accessible shows in the month or so following. He was able to secure them seats at a show with an up-and-coming brand that seemed to fit Charlotte’s new style.

During his deep dive into fashion shows, plays and all the other events happening during their break, Henry saw that the Boo Man Group had shows in the city that same week. Charlotte loved them plus it would make up for that one year on her birthday that she missed their performance because of superhero shenanigans.

When trying to get tickets online he discovered that the group was sold out the entire time they would be in New York. Sighing in defeat, Henry was about to click off the browser when he noticed that the Boo Man Group weren’t doing a solo performance. They actually were just the opening act for none other than...Double G!

A tiny spark of hope bloomed in his chest when he realized that he just might have a connect to get into the concert after all. He figured it was a long shot but he quickly pulled out his phone and searched in the contacts. Once he found the name he was looking for, he immediately hit the call button.

Biting the corner of his bottom lip in anticipation, he hoped that she still had the same phone number and would pick up. Tapping his fingers on his thigh nervously Henry listened to the ringing tone and was just about to disconnect the line when he heard a raspy, “Hello?”

“Hey. Babe?” Henry asked.

Babe squinted down at her phone in confusion and cleared her throat. “Henry?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry, did I wake you up? I completely forgot about the time difference between California and New York.” Henry said while glancing at his clock on his beside table. 9:02 pm. It would be after midnight over there. Oops, thought Henry.

“Uhhh yeah, that’s okay though. I’m up now, what’s going on?” Babe wondered while sitting up in bed. She hadn’t talked to Henry in over a year, unless you counted his extremely scarce retweets on Twitter or a rare comment under her posts on Instagram.

“I was wondering if you could help me get tickets to one of Double Gs shows in March?” Henry asked hesitantly while scratching the back of his neck.

“Uuuuuhh” was Babe’s reply.

“It’s totally okay if you can’t help me out. I figured I would at least ask because all the dates were sold out. And I know you are close to his family. You know what? Forget I brought it up” Henry said in a rush.

“Henry it’s okay, I’m still half asleep and I was just contemplating if I would be able to get you tickets. Chill.” Babe replied with a small laugh.

“Sorry. I’m a little high strung right now. I’m trying to plan a spring break to remember and these tickets would definitely get me one step closer.”

“I’ll tell you what, I’ll check with Trip tomorrow at work. He pretty much has access to all his dad’s shows. I can probably hook you up with backstage passes, VIP, the whole thing.”

“Really? Oh my gosh, thank you so much. I can’t believe it” Henry exclaimed excitedly.

“Yeah just text me tomorrow with the details. What days you’ll be in town, number of tickets, whatever else” she said while yawning.

“Ok, ok will do. Thanks again. I really owe you one Babe” Henry said sincerely.

“Don’t mention it, I’ll be happy to collect on a favor from Kid Danger” Babe teasingly retorted.

“Well, have a good night. I’ll let you get back to sleep. Talk to you later.”

“Talk to you later” Babe replies before hanging up her phone.

A large smile covered his face when he thought about all the fun they were going to have. Spring Break couldn’t come fast enough.

Henry was so busy arranging the trip that he barely had any extra time. He and Char usually FaceTimed every night but recently that had decreased to two or three times a week. On top of all the trip planning, he was out on more late night crime alerts than usual. It seemed as if every villain in Swellview had suddenly gotten the motivation to enact their little schemes all at once. Like they all decided that they needed to complete their plots for total domination before Spring Break. Maybe they were going on vacation too.

Henry was busy consolidating his budget one afternoon when he got a video chat request. Looking up from the document that he was reading he searched under all the pages spread out on his desk for his phone. He finally located it under a credit card statement that he had printed. Looking at the screen he involuntarily smiled when he saw the contact picture. Pressing accept, he was greeted by the glowing umber skin of his gorgeous girlfriend.

"Hey Love" Henry greeted with a dazzling smile.

"Hey Handsome. I was just calling to see how you were doing on budget day" Charlotte responded.

Furrowing his brows and squinting slightly, Henry chuckled. "How'd you know it was budget day?"

"Well I know you've been working on being more fiscally responsible after I explained that good credit wasn't just for 'crusty old dudes'. Plus your card balance is due tomorrow and you always wait until the last minute to figure out your bills."

"Wow, aren't you quite the detective?" Henry sassed lightly.

"Yes. Yes I am. Also, you put it in our shared calendar with a frowny face beside it." Charlotte smirked.

"Oh yeah, I remember that now. That was after the third time I had pushed it off for later. I decided to put it in the joint calendar because I knew you would hold me accountable if I didn't do it."

"Smart plan. You know I can help if you need anything."

"Yeah, actually I have a question about interest rates. How do you-" Henry paused.

Charlotte could see Henry looking at his phone in contemplation while biting the corner of his bottom lip. “Uh, baby?" Charlotte inquired after few seconds of silence.

"Hey, I'm actually getting an important call, let me call you back later okay?"

"Oh ok, don't forget to tell me...your question about interest" she trailed off when he she realized that he had already clicked over to the other line.

Strange thought Charlotte.

He reluctantly interrupted his conversation with Char because Babe was calling him back. He needed to know if she was able to secure the tickets for them. But, he decided it would be a good idea not to tell Charlotte who was calling. He didn't want her to figure out the surprise location and a clue like that could give it away. She wouldn't be able to guess where they were going since she didn't know that he was talking to Babe. What other reason would Henry have to speak to the New York native?

Henry spent the next few weeks coordinating with Babe about his Epic Spring Break Trip. She helped him get the concert tickets and extra perks but she also gave him advice about what other events would be in town that week. She provided the inside scoop about all the cool local spots in their area. She also helped him pick which Broadway show they thought he and Charlotte might like the best. She assisted with picking what hotel would work best with his budget. Babe was basically his travel agent without any pay.

When everything was finalized and shaping up to be the best spring break of all time, Henry called Babe to ask her what he could do in order to repay her for all the assistance. She responded that she was more than happy to help and if she thought of anything, she would let him know. He told that he would help her with whatever, whenever and let her know that it had been great catching up with her over the last few weeks.

Henry had previously only considered her a nuisance based off the impression she made when they first met. Now he thought of her as, at the very least, a good acquaintance. Maybe even a friend. Time seemed to have mellowed her out significantly. He might even consider accepting her friend requests on his private social media pages. He followed her profiles but she had seemed like she would be hella annoying online so he held off on letting her follow him back.

As the vacation approached, Henry got more and more nervous. He went back in forth in his head about if Charlotte was going to hate everything that he planned. Unnecessary thoughts plagued his mind. What if her interests had changed? What if she hates Boo Man Group now? What if doesn’t like fashion anymore? What if she doesn’t even like ME anymore?

His fears were quickly assuaged on the day before they were set to leave for New York. He, Ray and Schowz were all standing around talking while they hula-hooped. He had just dropped his hoop for the thousandth time when Charlotte came into the ManCave. She immediately dropped all of her luggage after stepping off the elevator and catapulted into his arms. He hugged her back tightly and when he pulled back to look at her face he could see the love shining in her eyes. He let out a sigh of contentment while holding her in his arms. Then they proceeded to have the most intense, toe curling, lip tingling kiss that they had ever shared.

Their passionate, borderline inappropriate kiss came to an abrupt halt when they heard an airhorn sound off loudly right into their ears. They hadn’t seen each other since New Year’s day, could you really blame them for getting swept up into the moment? Quickly jumping apart they looked around to notice that Ray and Schwoz were staring at them incredulously.

“Geez guys, did you remember to breathe?” Ray exclaimed.

“Yeah it looked like you were both trying to suffocate each other with your tongues.” Schwoz snidely commented.

Charlotte looked embarrassed to have lost her inhibitions in front of the pair and weakly called out “Shut up!” while rubbing her arms awkwardly.

Henry chuckled and pulled his mortified girlfriend into his arms again and gave her a simple kiss on the forehead.

“What are you doing here babe? I thought I was going to pick you up from school on the way to the airport tomorrow morning?”

“You were but I wanted to surprise you. You’ve spent so much time planning this trip that I feel like we haven’t spoken much lately.”

“Awwww...you missed little ole' me? I’m honored” Henry responded jokingly.

Charlotte hit him lightly on the arm. “I mostly missed Jasper” she says with a smirk. “Where is he by the way? I wanted to see him before we left. I thought he was coming home for break?"

“Jasper was invited to some kind of exclusive bucket convention last minute so he’s actually in Wisconsin right now.”

“Oh. That’s weird, but totally Jasper. I also missed those two goofballs, but don’t tell them that.”

“Your secret is safe with me.” Henry said lowly while bending down to give Charlotte another kiss. Before they could even brush lips, the air horn let out three quick spurts too close for comfort courtesy of Ray.

“Uh uh uh. No more of that in here. I don’t like to be reminded of how single I am.”

“And stop hogging Charlotte!” Schowz said while pulling Henry away to bestow a brief hug upon her.

“I missed you! You know these idiots can barely comprehend what I’m saying most days” Schowz lamented.

“That's because of your silly accent and you know it!” Ray cuts in while pushing Schowz away with a palm to his face.

He gives Charlotte a quick hug as well and says, “Welcome back Brains. I didn’t miss you at all.”

“Love you too Ray” Charlotte says with a smile.

They spend the whole day in the ManCave watching movies and catching up on life. This place was her home away from home and she wouldn’t it change it for the world.

#charlotte page #henry hart #henry danger #chenry #Ray Manchester #schwoz schwartz #charlotte bolton #kid danger #riele downs #jace norman #babe carano #game shakers #cree cicchino

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imagineaworlds · 3 years

Text

I Love You (Part Sixty) -- Aaron Hotchner

Written By: @desperately-bisexual

Request: None.

Warnings: Cursing. Panic attack. Character death. Alcoholism. Drugging(s). Physical trauma. Explosion(s). I think that’s it?

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Nonbinary!Greenaway!Reader

Word Count: 9574

Timeline: Season 8 Episodes 24. Right after part fifty-nine.

Criminal Minds Discord Server

It wasn’t like any other panic attack I ever had. For some reason, the really bad ones only came about when I was really worried about Hotch, like after the bombing in New York when I thought he was literally dying in my arms. This time around, though, I think I was just… paralyzed. I was staring at the wall, the sheets pulled up to my chin, a ringing in my ears, flashing memories of that night back in high school. Those pictures. These pictures. What made The Replicator any different than Steven Teller? A chill ran down my spine. I hadn’t connected his name to what had actually happened to me until my parents brought him up at Hotch’s birthday dinner. I would’ve gone my whole life trying to forget his name if they hadn’t said it, if Hotch hadn’t asked about him, and if Garcia hadn’t called to tell us that someone else had pictures of me now.

Who had seen them besides Garcia? Morgan? Spencer? Morgan would’ve understood because he knew about the true nature of the original photos—hell, he was the one who stumbled upon them in Rebecca Bryant’s apartment, so he had even seen them; but I didn’t want it to be Reid. The two of us were so close now since Maeve’s death. If he saw something like that, he would get all awkward around me and our friendship would slowly fall apart, and instead of letting me into his apartment every Sunday now, he would just let Scarlet in again like he originally did.

I didn’t understand who this guy was. How had Garcia been investigating it enough for Hotch to know exactly what she was talking about, yet I was completely out of the loop? Was I the only one who didn’t know? Why didn’t Hotch tell me about this sooner—if I would’ve known that there was someone out there watching us, I would have never gone on this “vacation”, and I would have made sure that we weren’t being followed, I would’ve closed the fucking drapes. The drapes.

Hotch pushed himself out of bed and ran to the window. “We need to make sure everyone’s safe,” he muttered under his breath.

“Hotch, who is The Replicator…” I croaked.

“He might have gone after the others.”

“Hotch, answer me!”

“Later.”

“He has pictures of us, Aaron…” I croaked as he closed the drapes.

We had left them open because we were so high up, and the lights were off, and the surrounding buildings shouldn’t’ve had a good view into our room. Closing the drapes just didn’t occur to us earlier. But now that we knew he had been watching, we weren’t taking a chance. Not that it mattered. He had already seen everything. From Hotch slowly undressing me, to tying me up, spanking me, torturing me… fucking me. That asshole got a free show, and then he had the audacity to send those images to our friends. Poor Penelope. She was probably mortified. Between getting hacked and having to see literal porn of her co-worker and her boss, she was likely having a meltdown. Yet, all I could think about was how this all reminded me of high school—of the images that boy took of me then used as blackmail against me. It was eerily similar. I absolutely fucking hated it.

“Call everyone, Y/N. Call them now.”

We both raced for our phones. Hotch called Rossi while I started with Reid. I was biting at my fingers nervously as the phone rang, because every second that passed without hearing his voice just somehow convinced me that something was wrong. And then he picked up. I let out a sigh of relief and hid my face in my free hand.

“Y/N?” He had no clue what was going on. “Y/N, what is it?”

I hated that he was getting as good at recognizing my tells as Morgan was. “Where are you?”

“I’m with Morgan. We’re driving back from getting some food. Did you know that you can get sauerkraut on hotdogs? It’s such an odd concoction, considering the hotdog was invented—”

“Spencer, something happened.”

He stopped. “What?”

“You and Morgan need to get back to the Field Office immediately. Don’t stop anywhere, don’t talk to anyone, keep your heads down. Got it?”

“Y/N, what is it? Why—”

“I don’t know… Hotch isn’t telling me right now, but he says he’ll explain everything once we’re all together.”

“Okay. We’ll see you there.” I looked at Hotch as I hung up and he came back into the bedroom, dressed in a button down and slacks again so that it could pass as business formal, considering we hadn’t brought actual work clothes. “Where’s Rossi?”

“He’s with JJ. They can’t get ahold of Strauss, so JJ’s going to head to the Field Office to meet up with Spencer and Morgan while Rossi goes to check on Strauss at her hotel. We need to get dressed and go.”

“Stop,” I demanded harshly. Hotch froze in place. “You need to tell me the truth now. Who is The Replicator?” He was still frozen. “Hotch,” I crawled onto my knees, “he went after our babies, and he took pornographic pictures of us. I have every right to know before the team does.”

Hotch sighed and sat down on the corner of the bed as he explained everything to me. A couple of months ago, something peculiar started happening. Someone was replicating the cases that we were solving—everything from the human marionettes to an Unsub who had exsanguinated his victims. Strauss didn’t want the team to get involved yet, though, so it was a need-to-know case only. I wasn’t on the list. Every time it happened. Strauss found out and told Hotch. The two of them had been keeping an eye on it, and he was convinced that she was going to turn the case over to us soon, but now he was coming after us personally, which was so… unexpected to him.

Rossi called back while Hotch was telling me everything. Hotch rubbed a thumb over the arch of my foot as he answered. “You’re sure?” he asked worriedly. “Alright. Okay. We’re on our way.” He hung up. “Rossi’s convinced that something happened to Strauss… He thinks that The Replicator might have taken her.”

“Fucking hell, Aaron!” I jumped out of bed and ran to change into different clothes. The only thing I had that was “appropriate” was a v-neck and jeans. So much for our vacation. “We should’ve known about this earlier!” I exclaimed, jumping into my pants. “It’s just another lie—”

“Jesus, Y/N! Stop with the hounding about the lies! Get off my back! This was an order, not a lie!”

Actually, he was right about that one. “Fine…” I grabbed my credentials, my weapon, and my bag before joining Hotch at the door. “You’re right.” I kissed him quickly. “I’m sorry.” He closed the door behind us, and we ran off.

In the car, Hotch and I held hands, both of us shaking anxiously. His thumb was doing circles around one of my knuckles while he kept his other hand busy on the steering wheel, tapping to a random beat in his head that he was using as a distraction. He clearly didn’t know what to do with himself. He hadn’t expected that The Replicator would go for us personally—though, if he had come to me with this case before this, I would have told him that this was going to happen, and we could have prevented it.

If I would have known that this guy existed in the first place, Hotch would’ve had to drag me out of the house and to work just to leave Jack and Scarlet. I wouldn’t have sent them to school, I wouldn’t have left them to go on vacation, and I wouldn’t have let them go to the fucking park while we were gone just to give the creep an opportunity to take pictures of them. He could fuck with us all he wanted. Those pictures hurt, and the situation was still spinning in my mind to the point I wanted to throw up; but at least we were adults who could handle it. Jack and Scarlet were still just my little babies. It didn’t matter how big they were getting, they were always going to be my babies, and no one ever fucked with them.

Hotch kissed my knuckles as we parked at the hotel. He paused for a moment, turning to look at me, cradling my cheek in his other palm. “I’m sorry. If Strauss didn’t order me to keep this confidential, you would have been the first person I told. You have to believe that.”

“I do.”

“Are you okay now… knowing what we know about tonight…”

I shook my head. “No, but it’s not the point.” I escaped his touch so that I could open my car door and jump out. Hotch followed shortly, deciding to drop the conversation.

The second we stepped into the hotel room where Strauss was supposed to be staying, we saw Rossi pacing around, completely stressed out, running his hands through his hair while muttering thoughts under his breath. I glanced around. The window was open, the bed was a wreck, there was broken glass on the ground, drawers were left open, the bathroom looked like a tornado had torn through it, but what was most obvious were the mini alcohol bottles from the mini fridge that were scattered everywhere. I thought she quit drinking. There was a situation a little bit ago shortly after The Face Cards when I was still bedridden where Hotch and Rossi found out that she was an alcoholic and decided to get her some help.

“Her one year chip is here,” Rossi said, holding it up for us to see. “She never lets go of it, Hotch. Ever. The Replicator must have her.” So, everyone seemed to know about this guy besides me, I supposed? What the fuck? “I’m going to check the roof.” Rossi was already moving for the fire escape.

“Be safe. We’ll head down to the lobby to look at the security footage,” Hotch said. I wanted to go with Rossi to give him back up, but I realized that Hotch didn’t want me to stray far from him after what happened. So, I followed him out of the room, and we started hurrying towards the inside stairwell just to see if she had wandered down there somehow. Hotch’s phone started ringing.

“Who is it?”

“It’s Straus…” He cocked a brow while answering. “Erin?” He stopped in his tracks when he heard the other end, making me stumble to a halt. “Where is she, you bastard.” He started running as fast as he could through the hallways, leaving me behind.

“Aaron! No!” I yelled, trying to run after him.

“Stay here! I love you!”

Those words echoed in my head as d��jà vu overtook my senses. Hotch had said the exact same thing to me after we found Sam dying on his carpet, and Hotch went to the hospital with him. The panic that hadn’t settled in earlier was certainly settling in now. I could remember how Hotch said those exact same words to me as he closed the ambulance doors, and a few moments later, I collapsed on the sidewalk, unable to hear anything, unable to move, unable to breathe until I heard his voice again. He went on his own this time, though—No.

I started dashing to follow him, even though he had enough of a head start to already be out of the building. The Replicator had talked to Hotch. He had called from Strauss’s phone, which was the perfect way to lure Hotch out of the hotel, and it worked, which meant that if he had a plan, he was going to go after Hotch next. I started skipping steps in the stairwell. Not him. Not now. Aaron Hotchner was all kinds of stupid, but I wasn’t going to let this stupid decision get him killed while I froze up in a fucking hallway. I couldn’t live with that regret if that were the case.

When I pushed through the front doors of the hotel, I started looking up and down the street in search of Hotch. He had to be around somewhere. He got a head start, sure, but not enough to disappear into the night unless someone took him. He had to be close. I refused to believe that he was anywhere other than on that block, safe, alive, and waiting for me to find him. So, I just kept looking. I spun around in circles, jumping to look over the crowd, pushing between couples just to see if Hotch was hiding somewhere. I felt like I was going insane.

And then I saw him on a bench. I recognized his hair, how dark it was, how he liked to keep it short in the back but long in his face so that I could play with it when I was bored or during sex. I recognized him because of his body type. The shirt he had put on back at the penthouse was a simple button up, but it was fit to his body so well that when he was sitting down like that, I could see his biceps stretching the sleeves, and the actual torso part of the shirt had molded against his loose abs. I would recognize my husband anywhere. Even while his face was away from me, and he had someone in his arms, I could still tell that it was him. He looked okay… at least from where I was standing. I couldn’t tell for sure, though, so I dared to run across the street and hurry over to the bench. I could tell for sure now. He was alright, but he was holding Strauss in his arms, despite the fact that she wasn’t breathing anymore.

“Aaron…” I carefully peeled his grip off of her. “Aaron, it’s okay…”

As I kneeled down in front of Hotch, I recognized the lost fright in his eyes from the bombing four years ago, and from the murder of Haley a little under that, then my kidnapping two years ago. Whenever he was panicked, whenever there was too much going on at once, his eyes got lost in the world, like he couldn’t see anything at all, yet could somehow still see everything. It was hard to explain, but the way his jaw slacked, and the way his breath was shallow, and his body was unnaturally still… It all pointed to that instinct that overtook him every time something bad like this happened.

I put my hands on his face to bring his eyes level with mine. We had been through this before, we learned how to handle it, now all he had to do was focus on me and we would be fine. He told me that feeling my touch, hearing my voice, seeing my face, it always brought him down to Earth when this happened. So, I held him close, I kissed his forehead, and I whispered to him that everything would be alright.

“He talked about Foyet,” he finally told me.

I stopped comforting him for a moment to reflect on what he just said. “What?”

“He…” He lowered his head. “He talked about how Foyet killed Haley… That I was stuck on the phone, incapable of doing anything that could help.”

“How could he know that?”

“I don’t know.” He shook his head against my touch.

“Look at me, baby.” I lifted his head gently. “We’ll figure this out. I promise. Just breathe.”

“He said he’s going to race us home—”

“Shhh…”

“The kids—”

“They’re at the office. They’re safe. Please. Catch your breath with me.” I inhaled slowly, letting him know that I wanted him to mimic me. I nodded an encouragement when he started doing so, and then when we couldn’t breathe in anymore, we held it, then slowly exhaled. He was relaxing in my touch already. We did it again. “You’re doing good, baby. Keep going.”

Footsteps hit the pavement behind us. I turned somewhat, just long enough to see that it was Rossi. He froze when he saw Strauss beside Hotch. As he collapsed and pulled Erin in for a hug, I helped Hotch to his feet, pulling him away so he could collect his thoughts again.

“Don’t stop breathing, baby,” I begged, pressing my forehead against his.

“Foyet—”

“Foyet’s gone. You’re here. I’m here. The kids are safe at the office. Just breathe.”

When the EMTs arrived, they put a sheet over Strauss’s body, lifted her onto a stretcher, then rolled her into the ambulance. Rossi was quiet while he followed them. With Hotch still somewhat out of it—not as bas bad as before, but still— I was the one who nodded in his direction, letting him know that it was okay to go with her. We would see him later.

At the Field Office, Hotch was finally relaxed and level-headed enough to explain to the team what was going on and what we were going to do now. We were going to get on the jet, head back to the office, and take down whoever the hell this Replicator guy was. Everyone seemed on board, but there were a lot of questions about when Rossi would be rejoining us. Honestly, we weren’t sure. He was flying with Strauss to Bethesda to talk with her children and stick around for the autopsy, which we would have by the time we would land in Virginia and get settled back at the office. He would probably return after that… if at all. What we needed to focus on was just getting the profile done and making sure that Strauss’s death wouldn’t be in vain.

When we got back to Quantico, I ran straight into Hotch’s office, finding Jack dead asleep on the couch, buried under a blanket that Hotch always had stowed away in case we had to sleep at the office, too. As for Scarlet, though, she was still awake. Jessica was sitting in Hotch’s chair at his desk, and Scarlet was sitting across from her, playing with some toys. She spotted me almost immediately, though.

“Mom!” She slid off the chair and ran to me.

“Hey, lil’ bug!” I exclaimed, lifting her into my arms. I kissed her a thousand times. “I love you so much!” I kept kissing her. “Why aren’t you asleep?”

“She’s been fussy without you guys,” Jessica said.

“I’m sorry,” I said to her. I brushed Scarlet’s hair out of her face. “Do you want me to tell you a bedtime story before Dad and I have to go save the world again?”

“Yeah.” She nodded and pressed her cheek against my chest while still hugging my neck.

I sat down in one of the chairs across from Hotch’s seat and relaxed. While telling her the story, I thought about how relieved I was to have her in my arms again. The Replicator had a thousand chances to take her or Jack from me, especially while Hotch and I were gone. Hell, he got close enough to take pictures. If he really wanted to hurt us, he could have stolen my lil’ bug away. If that happened, I wasn’t sure if I’d survive.

By the time the story was over, she had magically fallen asleep in my arms. I smiled and kissed her hair. As I got up to lay her down on the couch with Jack, he rolled over and started snoring, making me and Jessica chuckle quietly, but I had to shush her.

When Scarlet was done, I looked at Jess. “I’m so sorry that this keeps happening to us.”

She shook her head. “As long as everyone’s safe, it’s okay.” She stepped forward and hugged me tightly. “Are you guys okay?”

“Not right now, but we will be.”

“You’ll get an actual vacation weekend soon.”

I laughed. “$20 says it doesn’t happen.”

She pulled away from me to shake my hand. “Deal.”

There was a knock on the door from Hotch, coming to tell us that Strauss’ autopsy had been completed. His gaze flicked to the kids, and he hesitated for a moment. They were asleep, but I could tell that he wanted to wake them up and just feel the way they would give him a Superman hug at the same time until he couldn’t breathe. But he restrained himself. He carefully stepped into the room and crouched down in front of the couch, kissing Scarlet’s forehead, then Jack’s. He stayed with them for a second longer, just admiring how perfect and innocent they were. My heart broke in my chest a bit, a smile creeping onto my face, and I reached forward to brush Hotch’s hair out of his face.

“We should go, baby,” I whispered to him. He nodded and pushed himself to his feet. “They’ll be alright. I promise.” He kissed me gently while keeping my head tilted up with his thumb. When he pulled back, we pressed our foreheads together. “Your messes are my messes.”

“Your messes are my messes.” He kissed me again quickly before taking my hand and leading me out of his office, waving goodbye to Jessica. She waved back to us while sitting back down to play a game on her phone. When we walked into the boardroom, we saw that Garcia was finishing up with hanging all the evidence we had of The Replicator. “Garcia, is this everything?” Hotch let go of my hand to cross his arms over his chest.

She nodded. “JJ’s grabbing the printed copy photos from Strauss’s autopsy, but this is everything else… except for you and Y/N… You know…”

“Thanks.”

“So, while you guys were on the jet, I started digging into why he would have possibly attacked Strauss and on this day, considering he would’ve had a thousand other chances to do it if he really does work for the FBI, but I couldn’t find anything in her life that was historically relevant.”

“We need to focus on the location, then. He waited until she was in New York, rather than attacking her here or at her home.”

“Look at how many photos he had of her, guys,” Morgan pointed out, referencing the dozens of pictures of our team up on the wall. I knew that he had taken pictures of me and Hotch in bed, but I didn’t think that he had really been stalking the entire team all this time. “She’s hardly ever in the field, yet there’s more pictures of her than anyone else. It’s like he’s obsessed with her.”

“Maybe Strauss was always the real target. We were just in the way, and also a distraction.”

“I’ve got the rest of the photos,” JJ said, holding the stack up for us before heading to the board to pin them up. “We were right, he replicated the New York attacks, which accelerated his timeline. He spiked Strauss’s alcohol with meth and heroin.”

“Not ecstasy?” I asked.

“Nope.” She hung up a picture of a symbol that had been carved into Strauss’s wrist antemortem.

“Wait—” I stepped forward, halting her actions. “What is that?”

“An infinity sign?” Garcia guessed.

“An eight? Wasn’t she his eighth victim?” Morgan added.

“But why would he do that? His whole M.O. is copying our other cases as closely as possible to prove that he’s been stalking us. He wouldn’t deviate just to make things interesting now,” I said.

“He would if Strauss was his intended target.”

“It’s too random. Everything this guy has done thus far has been strategic and with the point of getting under our skin. This doesn’t affect us personally in any way, unlike the photos and him mentioning Foyet on the phone,” Hotch said.

“Wait. He knew about Foyet?” JJ questioned. “How? That was a confidential case. No one outside of our unit and SWAT knew the intricate details of what happened to Haley.”

“But the file has enough general information. He had to have accessed it somehow,” I said.

“Maybe when he hacked Garcia?”

“It’s a paper file. Cody made sure it didn’t make its way into any system to ensure that no one could get their hands on it outside of the FBI, which means… Technically, anyone working for at Quantico could know.” What was he saying? “The only people who knew where Y/N and I were this weekend before the hack was the BAU and Cody’s office. The only problem here is that Strauss wasn’t sure that she recognized him. If he works for the FBI—”

“He might not have been showing his face to her—and even if he was, she was probably too out of it to actually recognize him,” Reid said. “Besides that, there are hundreds of new and old faces every day at Quantico. Strauss was a busy woman. She might not’ve remembered him.”

I shook my head. “Let’s say that he does work in the FBI, that explains how he knows about all of our cases with so much detail. He replicates everything, we can’t forget that. So, what the hell is the symbol on her wrist replicating?”

“The Cutter,” Hotch realized. We all looked at him, giving him our full attention. “The last case we worked before this weekend.”

We had been in Detroit for nine days, tracking down an Unsub who liked leaving Joker-like smiles on his victims’ faces by cutting them up. Sometimes he got fancy with it, taking their tongues, cutting a toe or a finger off, but he always cut the mouths. There was nothing about carving symbols into the victims. No eights, infinities, whatever. So, why did Hotch think that this had anything to do with that?

“I need to see her computer.” Hotch turned to snap at someone outside the room. “Anderson, I need you to run to Strauss’s office and bring me her computer, please. Now.”

“Yes, sir.” Anderson did as he was told, literally racing to the office just past the bullpen, though the door, down the hallway, and to the right. We waited patiently for him to come back. “Here you go,” he said, panting, handing the laptop over.

“Thanks, Anderson.”

“No problem, sir.” He took his leave from the room again.

Hotch passed the computer over to Garcia, who was sitting down and wiggling her fingers to warm up before she would start typing up a storm in order to hack in. Hotch watch from over her shoulder. “I need you to access who was on the distribution list for my case report for The Cutter.”

“You don’t know who reads your reports?” she questioned, already typing.

“I know that she sends them to the head of the Criminal Division and the Director, but I don’t know who else has access to it.”

“It’s right here.”

Hotch leaned in further to read because the words were too small for him. I was going to have to drag him to the eye doctor soon. Just because I always joked that he was getting old didn’t mean that I didn’t actually worry about him; and something that I had been noticing recently was that he was struggling to read things as well as he used to. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he needed reading glasses now. Not that he would ever wear them. Aaron Hotchner would rather die than ever admit that he wasn’t physically fit to be in the field or to work on reports when we were at home.

“She amended my report,” he said. We all grew curious. “She wrote that he carved infinity symbols into his victims’ wrists.” He stood up tall to address us, “She trapped him to make sure that we would know that he was an insider. Garcia, who else read this?”

“Two other people so far. The Director and— Uh oh.”

“Uh oh? Again?” I scratched my fingers through my hair, really annoyed with how she wasn’t just spitting it out. The other day, she pulled the same shit. Uh oh. I loved her to death, but sometimes she needed to just say it rather than dragging it out.

“You remember the Senator that investigated the BAU after Doyle?

Okay. That was an uh oh. Fuck.

“I’ll talk to him. You all need to stay here, stay together, don’t talk about this outside of this room. No one else can know about this.” Hotch hurried out of the room and B-lined straight for his office to grab one of his suits from his go-bag in his office. I followed him. “Hey, Jess, I need to change real quick,” he said as we walked in. “Can you give us a sec?”

“Of course.” She immediately stood and went to stand outside the office.

I closed the blinds while he quietly picked up his bag, carefully pulled at the zipper, cringing at how loud it was, and pulled his clothes out, all without waking up the kids. It was funny that he thought that they would jolt awake. The two of them were freaking corpses when it came to sleeping. Back when Scarlet was a baby, she was the worst about staying asleep, but now she could sleep all day and all night without a single issue. As for Jack, he struggled to fall asleep sometimes because of his nightmares, but once he was asleep, he was out until morning. They got it from their dad.

“You’ll stay here with them until I get back?” he asked me, peeling off his shirt. I nodded. “Henry’s just down the hall in JJ’s old office with Will. If Jack wakes up soon, he can probably go hang out in there while Jess keeps an eye on Scarlet in here.” He kicked off his pants, then picked up his button up and slid his arms into the sleeves. I helped put it together nicely while he focused on sliding his suit pants on. “I’ll ask Anderson to get everyone donuts from Leonard’s for breakfast. The kids’ll be happy about that.”

“Aaron,” I whispered, fitting his tie around his neck for him, “are you okay after last night?”

“I will be after all of this and once the two of us can sit down and talk about it.”

I flattened his collar around the tie, then stepped back so that he could put his suit jacket on. At least he wanted to talk about it. He wasn’t going to keep it bottled up this time and have me wondering if he was really alright or if he was just lying to me again. I was really fucking sick and tired of him lying to me. I mean, he had been really good about it since the Piano Man case over a year and a half ago.

He kissed me as he holstered his weapon and clipped his badge onto his jacket. “I love you. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“I love you.” I cupped my hands on his cheeks before kissing him. “I’ll be here, waiting for you.” We pressed our foreheads together, both of us letting out a relaxed exhale. “Come back to me.”

“I’m just going—”

“Promise me.”

Hotch snaked his arms around my waist, pulling me as close to his chest as humanly possible, our foreheads still pressed together as he towered over me. His fingers sprawled on my back. “I promise.” He rubbed his hands smoothly up and down my back for a bit. “And I promise that we’re going to talk about Strauss, about the pictures, about having another weekend where we can do things the right way.” His hands turned to fists around the fabric of my shirt. “I promise that I’m not going to let this guy take away anything else from us.”

We kissed again, our lips barely meeting because if it was anything more than that, we would have passionately, desperately kissed one another until we were breathless and forgot about the world around us, which wasn’t ideal. We needed to stay focused. Hotch needed to find the Senator, talk to him about still keeping an eye on our unit, even after they cleared us after Doyle, and then we needed to find out who the hell The Replicator was. We could forget about life later.

“I love you, Y/N Hotchner, more than life itself.”

I melted in his arms a bit, grabbing onto his suit jacket to maintain my balance. “When you say shit like that, I don’t know what to do with myself.” We both chuckled quietly. Jack suddenly stared snoring on the couch, making us both laugh again. “He’s so like you, it’s stupid.” Hotch’s smile faded, but he tried to mask it by kissing my cheek, then hiding his face in the crook of my neck. “Go save the world, Agent Hotchner.” I begged, prying him off of me before we could stay glued like that for the rest of our lives. I combed my fingers through his hair to make sure he looked nice for the Senator. “We’ll be here.”

Hotch’s hands left my back, making me ache silently for his touch again, which he somehow recognized, because he immediately held my hand in his as he started walking around me and stepped towards the door. I didn’t move. Our arms continued to stretch towards each other, fingers intertwining in an attempt to stay with each other for a little longer, but once he was out of reach, there was nothing we could do. He opened the door, turned to look at the kids once more, then left. I sighed and slumped into a chair.

Jessica carefully peeked in, wondering if it was safe to return. When she saw me sitting there, flustered and silent, she stepped in and closed the door behind her. I half expected that she would return to Hotch’s seat. It was, after all, the most comfortable seat in the room, and I knew it, considering it was my desk for a little while. But Jessica sat down next to me and took my hand in hers without saying anything. Nothing needed to be said. We just stayed there, watching the kids as they slept, waiting for Hotch to come back with answers.

----

Around the time Hotch returned, Rossi was walking in, too. We all spotted him, but no one said anything to him or approached him. We all just decided to meet in the boardroom while waiting for Hotch to get his things organized and make an attempt to talk to Rossi, which he was immediately denied. He looked to the boardroom, begging one of us to try again, but we all stared at each other, asking ourselves who dared to do it.

“I’m gonna go check on Rossi.” Morgan said to the group. We all nodded understandingly.

When he left, Hotch traded places with him, coming into the roundtable room with a stack of papers. “This is everyone who has read my reports over the past two years.” He dropped the heavy stack on the table. “There’s thirty-six people.” My jaw fell. We were going to have to profile thirty-six different people on a time crunch, which was near to impossible, even with all six of us, plus Garcia, working on it. That was still about six people per team member. How the fuck were we supposed to profile all that?

“Woah! Rossi! What’re you doing, man?! Put the gun down!” Morgan shouted.

My brows furrowed for a second as I stepped closer to the windows of the room to look across the bullpen and into Rossi’s office. There was Morgan, standing in the doorway, and in front of him, Rossi was pointing a gun at him. I dropped my papers and ran. When I was close enough, I slowed down to be casual. I didn’t want to spook him.

“Dave,” I croaked, stepping into his office. My hands were sprawled out in front of me, ready to swing for the gun if he moved for the trigger. “What’s this about?”

“Morgan’s fingerprints were on the glass that killed Strauss,” he answered.

“What?” Morgan questioned, scoffing.

I took another careful step forward in front of Morgan. There was no way he was going to shoot me. “Dave, someone on the inside is The Replicator, they’re probably the one who told you that—”

“It was in her report that was on my desk!” he yelled. The gun was shaking in his hands as his nose started to bleed the same way Strauss’s had been. He had been drugged, too.

I looked over at the page on the ground that was supposedly the official report he had just been reading. “You’ve been drugged, Rossi.” I was still walking towards him, despite Morgan’s quiet protests behind me. “He wants us to turn on each other. If you pull that trigger right now, you shoot me, you lose Hotch, you lose Reid, you lose Morgan, and you lose JJ. Is that what you want? Do you want him to win after everything? After Strauss?” I was close enough to reach for the gun. “Don’t shoot me. Just let me… Let me help you…” I started slowly going for it. “It’s going to be okay. We’re going to get you help, and you’re going to be just fine.” I had a grip on the gun, and I managed to finally pry it away from him.

Morgan let out a heavy sigh of relief behind me. “I’ll call the paramedics.”

Hotch finally came rushing in, now that the coast was clear and the tension had been diffused. If he had come in any sooner, Rossi might have been spooked and shot me, even if he didn’t want to, but just because of how the drugs fucked with him. He immediately came over to check on Rossi. We helped him onto the couch in his office, and Hotch didn’t hesitate to ask if Rossi had taken anything, drank anything, bumped into anyone. All he told us was that he had picked up Strauss’s report, and that was when he started feeling like shit.

“That was stupid of you,” Hotch whispered to me while slapping Rossi’s cheeks to keep him awake. “The kids are in the next room, how could you—”

“The kids!” I pushed myself up to my feet using Hotch’s shoulder and ran straight to his office. If Rossi had been poisoned through the paper, that meant that the Unsub must have dropped it off, or else security would have caught it. The Unsub was in his office. He walked right past our family. He could have done something to them. “Scarlet—” I turned into the room to see her and Jack watching a movie together on a tablet. I stopped in my tracks for a second as they looked up at me with raised brows. “Did anyone come in here?” I asked Jessica. She shook her head, eyeing me suspiciously.

He didn’t go for them. He said something to Hotch on the phone last night about how he was going to race us home, and Hotch was worried about the kids, which was why we brought them to the office, thinking that they would be safe, but the Unsub had them right there, and he went right past them, and he didn’t—

“Mom?” Jack questioned me. “Are you okay?’

I nodded and faked a smile. “Of course, little man. I was just checking on you guys…” I cleared my throat. “Did you, um… Did you get a donut yet?”

“He had two,” Jessica answered.

“And what about you, Scarlet?”

“I had two, too!” She laughed at herself. “Tutu.”

I smiled casually at them before turning and hurrying right back out of the office, letting out a shaky breath. The office was supposed to be safe. What if Scarlet or Jack had run into the Unsub? What if they had touched the paper Rossi touched just because they wanted to see what the superheroes were up to? I let out another breath, this time trying to calm my nerves as I saw the medics run into Rossi’s and start caring for him.

“We found something,” Reid said quietly, sneaking up on me, even though he hadn’t meant to.

I looked at him suddenly. “What?” I really hadn’t heard him. I had been so lost in thought that I knew he said something important, but I really couldn’t register what it was. “I’m sorry.”

“We found something.”

“Something good?”

“We found the Unsub.”

“Is he still here?” I asked eagerly, already walking with him along the balcony towards the boardroom again. He shook his head. “What do we know?” I asked everyone else when we entered.

“Is Rossi okay?” Garcia asked before she felt like answering me. I nodded to her while taking a seat, now waiting for her to tell me something. She caught the hint. “So, instead of profiling all thirty-six people who had read Hotch’s reports, we instead chose to connect anyone to New York since we noted that might be important to him if he chose to kill Strauss there.” Okay, so… “There were two agents at Quantico. One died last March, but the other… John Curtis… He worked under Strauss during the Amerithrax case in 2001 since he specialized with biochemistry. It seems like he was really hoping to move through the ranks at Quantico, according to letters he wrote to the Director after he was unfortunately demoted to go work in Kansas City.”

“How’d he make his way here, then?”

“After fifteen letters to the Director’s office, he was finally promoted to work in his office.”

That explained how his clearance was high enough for him to get into the building and into the BAU specifically without being detected. If we were to take the cars downstairs, he probably would’ve been prepared that something would go awry with them to prevent us from chasing him down this time around, so it was agreed that we were going to take the helicopters up on the roof. They were faster, more convenient, and unexpected. Curtis probably had no idea that the BAU even had access to the helicopters. They were our best bet. So, we all geared up and started running upstairs, assigning seats in the two vehicles. Hotch, JJ, and I were going to be in the first one, meanwhile Morgan and Reid would be in the other.

As we were flying through the air, speeding towards Curtis’s farmhouse out in rural Virginia, Garcia was in contact with Hotch, Morgan, and SWAT, discussing the layout of the farm so that we could perform a tactical breech with minimal losses. JJ and I were sitting together in the back, though, just staring out our respective windows. I was counting the minutes until we would land. Even after all this time, I still fucking hated flying, but at least when we were on the jet, that was familiar, so I could feel safe there, but now we were in a helicopter, which was unchartered territory for me, and I was terrified. The height wasn’t the problem… It was the fact that we could crash at any minute, and that would be it. Our fate was practically out of our hands.

It was like karma could hear me, because the next thing I knew, alarms were going off in front of the pilot, and we were dropping in the air. I cursed under my breath and held on for dear life. Through the headsets we were wearing, I could hear the pilot saying something about how auto-pilot was failing, and that something was preventing him from turning it back on. I squeezed my eyes shut as we kept falling. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I hated flying, and this was exactly why.

“Brace for impact!”

And then we hit the ground.

I weakly opened my eyes, blinking harshly to try and wash away the fog while also trying to adjust to the darkness. We didn’t die.

“Are you guys alright?!” Morgan asked as he pried Hotch’s door open.

Hotch fell sideways out of his seat in the helicopter, crashing to his knees before Morgan could catch him. I groaned, holding my head, trying to make the spinning stop. My fucking back hurt like a bitch, too—not as bad as when I first injured it at the bank during The Face Cards’ bombing, but certainly getting there. I whimpered when it hurt to move.

“Y/N…” Hotch groaned, carefully crawling his way over with Morgan’s help. “Y/N…” He reached around and unbuckled me from my seat. I coughed; my lungs too weak to maintain a normal breathing pattern. “Baby…”

I weakly wrapped my arms around his neck and attempted to pull him close. “Are you okay?” I opened my eyes as the world stopped spinning. Hotch nodded. “Where’s JJ?”

“I don’t know.” We stumbled onto the grass together. “Are you alright?”

I rested my forehead against his shoulder. “My back…” I croaked.

“It’s hurting again?”

I nodded. “I’ll be fine, though.”

“You said that last time—”

“But I mean it now. Why didn’t he kill us?”

“What?”

I cleared my throat and stood up straight, trying to shake off the ache in my back. “Why didn’t he kill us? I felt it at the end, something controlled the helicopter enough to have us land somewhat carefully, but then he took JJ… Why?”

“To give himself a bargaining chip?”

“Maybe…”

“Hey—” Reid called, running over to us. Just as I looked at him, he crashed into my arms, pulling me in for a hug. I ignored how it hurt my back. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. He took JJ.”

“What?” He pulled away so that he could go check the helicopter for himself. Just as he was inspecting it, a few black SUVs pulled up to take us the rest of the way. Maybe we should have just started with that.

Hotch helped me to the car, Morgan and Reid following close behind. Usually, Hotch would have sat in the front, leaving me in the back, but this time around, he sat with me, squeezing my hand as tightly as he could. I think that we had been through too much over the past few days. It was finally taking its toll. What we thought was going to be a normal getaway turned into working two cases—one where Hotch had to deal with his brother, then he had to deal with a thousand personal things. Pornographic photos, Strauss, Foyet being mentioned, the kids, meeting with the Senator—There were a thousand more things I could have possibly listed, but nearly dying in a helicopter crash… yeah, that was the cherry on top. He had been in the front seat with the pilot. I was in the back with JJ. When we were going down, I wanted nothing more than to hold him again, to look into his eyes, but I couldn’t because I was just behind him. Then, The Replicator could have taken me, but he didn’t. Hotch had risked too many things by not sitting in the back with me, but he wasn’t going to risk that now, the same way I wasn’t going to let him risk it either.

When we arrived at the house, SWAT was there, waiting on us, and for the call that Hotch wanted to make. Without hesitating, he said that we should breach the farmhouse up ahead. So, SWAT led the way, the team following close behind. We started by surrounding the entire thing. When everyone was in place, Hotch gave his mark on the comms, and then we all stormed in with our weapons raised. My back hurt like a bitch as I navigated my way through every room with Morgan, but I put on a brave face and tried to focus on just not getting shot or something. That was probably worse than hurting my back.

When we found nothing on the main or upper floor, Morgan and I moved towards the basement door. He grabbed the handle and I nodded, gesturing for him to go. We hurried down the steps. The basement was a red room for photography so that he could print out whatever pictures he took of us. Morgan and I spotted all of the photos of me and Hotch in bed because they were hanging up on a line to dry. Morgan quickly looked away out of respect.

“Anything?” Hotch asked in a whisper, scaring the shit out of me and Morgan since we weren’t expecting him to be there. When we caught our breaths, we shook our heads. “There’s another room over there.” He pointed with his flashlight.

Hotch led the way, Reid and I shoulder to shoulder, Morgan following behind us. The door was open, so Hotch lunged into the room, hoping to get a jump on Curtis if he happened to be around the corner, but he wasn’t. When we were all inside, we saw JJ sitting on a chair in the middle of the room, chained to it, her mouth gagged with a cloth napkin, of all things. Reid quickly holstered his weapon and hurried to help her.

“Morgan, we should go find him,” Hotch said. “Y/N and Reid can handle this.”

I knelt down on the ground beside Reid to help him get JJ free as the boys ran back out of the room. I peeled the napkin out of JJ’s mouth. “You okay?”

“He said that there’s eight locks because there used to be eight of us before he killed Strauss,” she said urgently.

“That’s all he said?”

She nodded.

Reid picked up a carabiner of keys laying on the ground next to the pile of locks. He sifted through them, only counting six, but each of them had a letter taped on. I inspected the locks themselves, spotting that they had numbers on them. Somehow, the letter and the numbers correlated.

“What are the letters?” I asked.

“G,” he began. That was the seventh letter in the alphabet. “A.” That was the first. “N.” That was fourteenth. “Z— Zugzwang.”

I froze and looked at him. Zugzwang? As in what Diane said to him over the phone when she first took Maeve? How would Curtis know that—Why would he use that? I mean, Zugzwang itself meant the point in the game when the player(s) had to decide if they wanted to forfeit or play until the bitter end, so in the context of the keys and the locks, what did that mean for JJ?

“It’s too easy,” I muttered under my breath, but he was already going for it.

Hotch and Morgan were already running back in, which meant that they probably hadn’t found Curtis. Great. So, now we were playing a risky game that had an uncertain end, and our Unsub likely got away. Well, fuck.

“The whole place is lined with C-4,” Morgan warned us. They were watching as Reid kept unlocking JJ’s chains. “We have about three minutes.”

“We’ll be gone by then,” Reid insisted. Unless this really was too easy, I suspected it was.

Then, it dawned on me. Reid the other week, when Scarlet and I were at his house, was trying to teach her some of the “basics” of chess, which in his mind was everything from how to move the pieces to how to win in less than three moves. He forgot sometimes that she was only two. She was smart, but she wasn’t as smart as he was, though he sometimes wished that were the case. But there was something he said about Zugzwang. The best thing to do in that situation was to do nothing at all. To not forfeit, to not play, but to just… wait.

“Don’t move—” I tried warning JJ, but the second the chains were off her hands, she stood up.

Suddenly, we could all see the pressure plate that she had been sitting on the whole time. Everyone’s eyes widened as we froze, waiting to see if something would happen, like the bomb potentially going off randomly. Nothing happened for a second. We all relaxed, but it came too early, because the door suddenly closed behind us.

Our three minutes were running out.

With our exit blocked, we called Garcia quickly, hoping that she would be able to do something about the bomb’s detonation, or perhaps getting the door open, if she could. I didn’t have high hopes. I was just staring at Hotch as he desperately tried to get the door open. After Haley, we promised the kids—well, technically just Jack—that nothing bad would ever happen to both Mom and Dad while we were off saving the world. Ever. I genuinely thought that if something happened, it would have been one of us going home, having to explain to the kids why Mom or Dad wasn’t coming back, holding the kids as they cried. Hotch and I were prepared for that. But I never in a million years thought that our kids would have to grow up as orphans. Yet, while watching Hotch desperately pry and scrape at the door, I couldn’t help but think that Jack was going to have to live with knowing that three of his parents dies because of the BAU, and that Scarlet was going to have to grow up without Mom, Dad, Curls, and Uncle Morgan.

Emily was going to have to come back. Because she was Scarlet’s godmother, she would have to leave London to handle the will, the house, everything with Jessica. From there, the two of them would have to decide who was going to take the kids and where they were going to be raised. Would Emily take them to England? She had a steady job there with enough income for a thousand kids, but did she have a place for them in her life? Not really. Would she still fight like hell to raise them, anyhow? Of course. As for Jessica, she had a job, but not one with enough income to support two kids on her own. Her place was big enough for them, and it was already in our neighborhood, so she could make sure the kids still went to their schools where they had friends.

Not that my opinion mattered in any of this. The door was barely budging, and Garcia had managed to severe the tie between the phone Curtis had and the bombs he planted; but if we didn’t get the door all the way open soon, none of it was going to matter. My kids were going to grow up forgetting their parents’ faces.

“What the hell are you guys doing in there?!” Rossi exclaimed on the other side of the door. He must have pressed something outside, because it suddenly opened, giving us freedom. “Ever heard of traps before?”

“We have to go,” Hotch ordered, ignoring Rossi’s wit. He must’ve still been high from whatever the hospital gave him.

When we ran outside, ducking behind the SUVs for cover, I looked around for a headcount, realizing that we were one short. Hotch, Morgan, Reid, JJ, they were all there… “Rossi!” I shouted.

He was right behind us, I thought, while we were running out of the house. Where the fuck did he go? It wasn’t like he could get lost, considering all of the sirens and lights that were coming from the road we were on. We were like a beacon screaming: “HEY, WE’RE OVER HERE, IDIOT?!” So, where the fuck was he?

“We have to go back in.” I stepped around the car and took a step that was meant to lead into a sprint, but Hotch caught me, holding me back the same way Morgan had when JJ found out that Will was going into The Face Cards’ bank. “Aaron, stop!” I hit at his hands to make him let go, but he didn’t budge. I didn’t understand. Rossi was his best friend the same way Morgan was mine; why wasn’t he doing anything? “We have to get him!”

“Look, he’s right there,” Hotch said calmly, risking letting go of me with one arm so that he could point at the house. Rossi was crawling out of the storm cellar that connected to the basement we were in. He stumbled for a moment, trying to get to his feet, and then he started running like hell towards us. “He’s fine.”

As if the timing couldn’t’ve been any more perfect, the place blew just when Rossi was far enough that it wouldn’t hurt him. We all ducked while flinching. Glass shattered, wooden beams flew in different directions, and part of the house collapsed in on itself. I did my headcount again. Hotch had me in his arms, Morgan was at my side, Reid was checking on JJ, and Rossi was now casually walking over to us. We had everyone. We were okay. So, I relaxed in Hotch’s arms, letting my head fall back against his chest. What a shitty fucking fucking weekend.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #aaron hotchner #Aaron Hotch Hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner imagine

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bebecue · 5 years

Text

190115

Hyungwon x Reader | Fluff | 1723 words

“Are-are those photos of you?”

Hyungwon follows your gaze to the crowded wall of celebrity portraits, and you see him wince slightly when he notices what had drawn your attention. In the middle of all the portraits were seven photos of Hyungwon, covered in his undeniable signature, each of them framed in gilded wood.

You look at them and notice that they’re the teaser images used for each comeback he’s had with Monsta X.

“You looked so good with dark hair,” you remark with a grin.

Hyungwon responds with a bashful smile of his own, and he tries to quickly change the subject. “Should we order? The ribs here are Gangnam’s best kept secret.”

“Ah, no wonder you like coming here so much. The ribs, and a shrine dedicated to you.”

“Shut up,” Hyungwon quips, but you can tell he’s trying to suppress a laugh.

You scan your surroundings, and you notice that there’s no one else here who’s around your age. The other patrons of the restaurant are all older, around middle age, you estimate. Despite being located in Seoul’s trendiest district, the restaurant is only half-full at the most, and food is more free-flowing than alcohol is.

“I like it here because the ribs are good, and it’s close to the Starship building,” Hyungwon continues in his attempt to justify his restaurant choice. “And besides, not many people come here, so I can eat in peace.”

You nod, and keep your grin hidden behind your menu. You secretly loved it when Hyungwon got flustered, but he hated being teased. “Can we get some rice cakes too? I’m kinda starving.”

Once you and Hyungwon have decided on what to order, he waves the server over, who takes her notepad out from her apron pocket as she approaches your table.

“Hey, kids, are you ready to order?” the woman asks with the most genuine smile you’ve seen in a long while.

She looks at you, then shifts her attention to Hyungwon. You see her eyes widen with surprise, and then crinkle with joy as Hyungwon stands and gives her a small bow. Hyungwon is probably a whole foot taller than her, but she manages to wrap him in a tight embrace, while Hyungwon chuckles and returns her hug with his wiry arms.

“Hyungwon!” the woman exclaims, releasing him and holding him out at arm’s length. “It’s so good to see you! Congratulations on your latest comeback and all your wins - we’re so proud.”

Hyungwon laughs, and he looks down as his hand rubs the back of his neck. “Ah, thank you, Auntie,” he says, still keeping his eyes down. But he’s beaming. You can tell that this woman’s compliment means a lot to him.

Auntie remembers that you are at the table with Hyungwon, and sees that you have stood up from your chair too. She looks you up and down, but catches herself, and her eyes shift from you, then to Hyungwon, and then back to you.

“Well, who is this?” She directs the question at Hyungwon, but she is looking at you with inquisitive eyes.

“Auntie, this is, uh, this is-”

“A friend,” you finish for him. Even though Hyungwon wanted to be open to the public about his relationship with you, you wanted to keep things under wraps. Some fans could be less than kind about it.

You say your name, and reach for Auntie’s hand. She takes it, clasps it with both of hers, and gives it a gentle squeeze. You feel a pleasant warmth start to spread across your chest.

“Any friend of Hyungwon’s is a friend of ours,” she tells you, and it sounds like she means it.

Still holding your hand, she cranes her neck towards the kitchen and bellows, “Dear!” in a voice you wouldn’t expect to come from a woman her size. “Dear, Hyungwon is here!”

You hear shuffling from the kitchen, and what sounds like a few pans being stacked quickly, before a broad man with thinning hair appears from behind the curtain, wiping his hands on his apron.

He takes a few long strides to your table, and Hyungwon extends his hand out to him. He, however, ignores Hyungwon’s hand and engages him in a rough hug. You see Hyungwon’s eyes bulge out of his skull, but he smiles widely, and does his best to return the hug.

“Good to see you, Hyungwon,” the man says, repeating Auntie’s sentiment.

“Thank you, Uncle, you too,” Hyungwon replies, before almost getting bowled over by the man’s boisterous pat on his back.

Like Auntie, Uncle realizes that you’re at the table too, and gives you a quick once over. “Who’s this?”

You’re starting to feel like you’re experiencing an episode of deja vu.

“A friend,” you repeat. Auntie is still holding onto your hand.

“A friend,” Auntie confirms, looking at Uncle.

Uncle nods slowly. “A friend.”

Uncle and Auntie are looking at Hyungwon with raised eyebrows, and you’re still waiting for Auntie to let go of your hand.

“Can we order now?” Hyungwon pipes up in an attempt to diffuse the tension.

Auntie laughs and releases you, and you almost exhale in relief as you return to your seat. Uncle heads back to the kitchen, shaking his head and smirking to himself. Hyungwon also takes his seat, and Auntie places a hand on his shoulder.

“Sure thing,” Auntie croons. “Your usual order? Ribs?”

“And some rice cakes,” Hyungwon adds. “We’re hungry.”

Auntie nods, and starts to make her way back to the kitchen when you yell after her.

“And some seaweed soup, please, Auntie! It’s his birthday today.”

---

The other patrons of the restaurant had left for the night, leaving you and Hyungwon surrounded by numerous dishes you couldn’t finish. Hyungwon had thanked Auntie endlessly, and kept apologizing for the leftovers, but she had convinced him to take it home for the other boys.

You had tried to pay for your and Hyungwon’s meal, insisting that it was your treat for his birthday, but Auntie had kept passing your notes back to you.

“On the house for the birthday boy,” she declares as he covers his face with his long fingers.

“You know what I want instead?” she asks as she wipes your table down and sets out some glasses and a bottle of soju.

Hyungwon grins. “I’m already one step ahead of you.”

He reaches under the table, pulls out a document holder, and places it on the table. You had been meaning to ask him what it was for, but the topic had eluded your thoughts during dinner. Now, you are about to find out.

Auntie takes it from him once he releases it, and she opens it. You take a peek, unable to contain your curiosity.

In the document holder is a photo of Hyungwon - more recent than the ones on the wall. You realize that it’s from one of the photobooks in their latest album, and it is covered in his signature scrawl.

Auntie almost squeals in delight, and once again, calls Uncle over. “Dear! Hyungwon has another one for us!”

Uncle emerges once again from the kitchen, and lumbers over to your table, joining Auntie in looking at the portrait.

“Let’s put it up!” he booms, while Auntie nods in agreement.

“Right now?” Hyungwon asks, incredulous.

“Right now!” Uncle replies affirmatively. “Hyungwon, we already have a frame waiting for you. Come help me put it up.”

“But there’s no more space!” Hyungwon insists, motioning at the wall.

“Ack, we can move Kim Jongmin,” Auntie says dismissively with a wave of her hand. “He’s only been here once, anyway. Most of them have.”

You suppress a snicker behind your hand as you see Hyungwon roll his eyes, but he stands up anyway. He gently rests his hand on yours, before he follows Uncle, who has disappeared to the kitchen again.

Auntie, sighs and replaces Hyungwon in his seat. You open up the bottle of soju, and pour a glass for her.

“Thank you child,” she groans, leaning back into the chair.

You smile, nod, and pour yourself a glass. Auntie looks at you and purses her lips.

“I’ve been feeding Hyungwon since before his debut. We’ve been taking care of him since he was a trainee,” Auntie drawls, lifting the glass to her lips, and finishing her drink.

“He always comes here alone. Always. He’s never brought anyone here to eat with him. Not even one of his brothers, as he likes to call them.”

You stay silent and keep your gaze on your glass.

“Until now,” Auntie continues. She pours herself another drink. “Hyungwon says the ribs here are Gangnam’s-”

“Best kept secret,” you finish the sentence with her. Auntie beams at you. “I know, he keeps raving on about it.”

Uncle and Hyungwon are once again out of the kitchen, and are now at the wall of portraits. Hyungwon is trying to convince Uncle that this new portrait doesn’t need to be front and center, but Uncle is adamant on keeping Hyungwon’s pictures together, and has now taken a total of three other portraits down.

“He was always telling us that the person he’d bring here to eat with him would be special. That they would be the ‘one’.” Auntie finishes her second drink in one swig. She sets her glass down, and looks at you in what you can best describe is a motherly and loving gaze. “He said, ‘Because no one else would be worth sharing this secret with’.”

You feel a slight flutter in your heartbeat, and a teary haze starts to fog your vision.

You try to blink it away, and shift your attention to Hyungwon, who is trying to save some other celebrity’s portrait from the reject pile. He feels your eye on him, and he turns towards you, raising his eyebrows and pressing his lips into a tight line. You are suddenly reminded of why his face makes for a good reaction image. You give him a finger heart, and he rolls his eyes, turning away from you again. You laugh, pleased that you had teased him successfully.

“I suppose he can be a bit dramatic,” Auntie chuckles, after watching your exchange.

You keep your gaze fixated on Hyungwon, your heart suddenly feeling like it tripled in size. “Yeah, I suppose he can.”

#monsta x #mx #monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x fanfiction #monsta x fic #monsta x fanfic #monsta x fluff #hyungwon imagines #hyungwon scenarios #hyungwon fanfiction #hyungwon fanfic #hyungwon fic #hyungwon fluff #monsta x reader #monsta x x reader #hyungwon x reader #rika.doc #hyungwonday

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flyswhumpcenter · 5 years

Text

Bad Things Happen Bingo! The event where you send me I give myself self-indulgent requests according to this marvelous card!

Jesus, I sure am sappy for someone who is known for his angst stuff. I couldn’t find anything dark to tell about the common cold though, so have a fluffy, if not downright cheesy sickfic about a rarepair of mine!

(also if someone from the elusive Gonta/Kirumi server passes by: hi, I want in)

A Spider Web on the Heart

Summary: It's not because she's the Ultimate Maid that Kirumi knows exactly how relationships or feelings work, as proven by an urge in overprotectiveness.

Fandom: Danganronpa V3 (Non-Despair AU) Ships: Gonta/Kirumi (what even is the official name for that)

Wordcount: 1.8K words

Event hosted by @badthingshappenbingo

AO3 version available here.

Kirumi had always had a sharp eye for tiny details which could betray someone’s condition through the simplest things. Having been raised as the ultimate maid, the perfect servant for royalty and bourgeoisie alike, she was no stranger to having to take care of the sick and wounded inside prestigious manors and battlefields where the grass had turned red. Nothing would stop her from her assigned missions: protect the people she served, no matter the cost to her or to the rest of the world.

The Earth never stopped, for Kirumi. Never was her glaze not looking around, careful to her surroundings, studying every bit of the people around her and around her masters. No hitman nor robber could pass through her unless they attempted something on her life. An iron defence to the enemy, a warm force for her masters and allies. She served good, she served what she thought was right, she had no question to ask herself about the morality or consequences of her actions as long as she was doing what she was told and what she knew she had to do.

Well, that was how she used to see herself as: a multi-functional weapon, ranging from a vacuum cleaner to the sharpest of knives slitting an enemy’s throat. However, even since she had joined Hope’s Peak Academy as the Ultimate Maid, her perspective on the world and the people around her had joined. There no longer were masters: her last family had freed her so she could continue her studies as normally as possible after she had become their maid during her middle school years. Without a person to obey, she felt lost for the first time in her life, until her classmates approached her and befriended her.

They were of a colourful diversity: from the piano prodigy and class representative Kaede to the shy but always polite Shuichi, not to forget the loud and unforgettable “Luminary of the Stars” Kaito or his almost-girlfriend Maki, everyone was memorable and mostly friendly to her (even Ryoma, once she had brought up the fact he had cat hair on his clothes, and that brought on a sweet conversation on cats). However, she had her views (or so that was what she thought the other girls her age said about that kind of feelings) on someone in particular for the first time of her life.

She didn’t remember the first conversation she had had with Gonta. It was probably about bugs or gentleman-related affairs, knowing him. Most likely the second, considering that was their very first common interest: he wanted to learn how to be a gentleman, she wanted to share with someone her knowledge of grand families without seeming like she was trying to paint herself as one of them or even as prestigious as her former employers. They simply ended up benefiting from each other intellectually, at first.

After a couple weeks, she found herself talking with him more and more, about various topics. If something she thought could interest him came to her mind, she’d tell him, and the conversation would then continue from there. It was that way that she had discovered some of his hidden centres of interest like botany and that she told someone for the first time or so about her own likings lurking in the shadows such as collecting stamps and looking into learning other languages than Japanese and English (she wasn’t half-bad at Russian and French, due to having worked for nobility before).

In definition, they were close, very close. Most of her time in school was spent with him or near him, they’d always have a little thing to tell each other, a little thing to be excited about before or between classes. She had simply not realized it very early on and probably that he didn’t either: they were too entangled into their own feelings and wanting to spend time with the other to realize what had apparently become obvious to everyone around them.

Maybe that was why everyone thought she was excessive when she saw her closest friend fall sick.

To be frank with them, it was just a small cold. It’d just show up in their conversations, Gonta would sniff out, apologize and lightly blow his nose like she had taught him. It was spring, sure, but he didn’t have hay fever. She still, at first, tried not to think much of it: sometimes people just sneezed, and it was all fine. A previous employer’s daughter had told her that years ago and, since then, she hadn’t forgotten like everything she had ever been told by the persons she had worked for and under.

Like the overly polite man he was, he’d always apologize for every single symptom that’d slip into their discussions, to the point that Kirumi had to one day act upon it and do something to protect him from the mean forces of nature’s worst aspects. It was always about small things, small beginning, but it’d usually get far worse than that; so she’d prevent it.

As a gentleman, he didn’t dare tell her no when she forcefully took his hand and brought him to his room. “You’re sick, you’re supposed to rest,” was an explanation enough, right? She felt like she was perhaps a bit too forceful and obstinate, but remembering the face of the gravely sick would have almost made her stop dead in her tracks. She simply… didn’t want this to happen to him, never, ever, as long as she could do something about it. She wasn’t the Ultimate Maid for nothing, she hadn’t served all these people to see her closest companion fall ill.

“Ki… Kirumi, please, can… Can I know why I need to stay here?” he asked her right as she closed the door between them.

“It is for your own good, I am afraid. The sick must rest before their conditions inevitably worsen from exposure to other pathogens.”

She sighed in a rare moment of vulnerability.

“I simply do not want to see this happen to you.”

Gonta seemed moved, rather than upset or frustrated like an outdoor-loving person like him would have given her the feeling to be prone to doing.

“Ah… I see! Would you make that easier on you if I stayed here until I (he coughed in his elbow instead of the cotton handkerchief she had given him for his birthday, the one she had insisted on him to use, something he had until then systematically refused to do despite her insistence…) am full recovered? Even if it’s something so small, I mean…”

So he had listened to her suggestions? Ah… She felt flustered now.

“It is for you, not for me, but if it can get you to rest… Then it’s fine. Very much so, in fact.”

She looked away, face heating up, hiding her profile shot behind the back of her hand as if that was going to help with anything. She needed to pull herself together…

“Okay then! (He sneezed again. The loud noise would have otherwise perhaps made her skin crawl from the bacteria that must have sent flying across the room, but she didn’t mind). Let’s do that…”

Kirumi didn’t know where to stand or what to say, now. She had managed to accomplish her goals and make her orders a success, sure, but her heart was about to explode against her ribcage, her legs felt floppy for lack of a better term and her hands were trembling, palms getting damped against the fabric of her trusty gloves.

“I’m… going to make you some tea, it’ll make your throat and nose feel easier. I’ll… be right back,” she slipped almost in a whisper as she left the room, a spare of the key in her pocket (to be fair, Gonta did allow her to use it).

She made her way out of the room and onto the kitchen, just as she had said, even if the beating of her heart didn’t stop there. Making the water boil, she thought of all the little things she needed to take care of: not have the water too hot. Fruit tea, not black tea, to make it easier to swallow and more effective. Perhaps a touch of honey? Ah, she must have had one of his jars on her, she had only allowed herself to use the honey from his beehives ever since he had introduced her to his yellow-and-black friends…

(She was a firm believer that this honey was better than anything HPA could provide them with anyway. It had passion, devotion and love put into it, the perfect side ingredients to any good product. She knew that: she had applied this for years.)

Once the water was done heating up and that the cup had been poured (she made sure to leave the water there in case someone wanted to drink their own cup of tea: as far as she knew, Ryoma, Shuichi and Kaede all often enjoyed sipping on some, it felt only natural to not throw it away if someone else could have needed it), the maid waited. Waited for what, she wasn’t exactly sure: the water to cool down or her heart to slow down? She couldn’t present herself to him like that, not when she was this flustered and untranquil with herself.

Even with this in mind, a question raised in her head: would Gonta really care about that? He cared about his own appearance as a gentleman, of course, but he had never judged anyone based on appearance. He had made sure not to, in fact, as he deemed it unworthy of a gentleman like he strived to be. It was more for herself, she thought. People want to look their best in front of the person who matters the most to them, right?

Oh God, there was something starting to sound very weird and wrong with her. Maybe she was coming down with something too.

Before her mind trapped itself in its own streams, Kirumi pulled herself together, picked up her tray after making sure the water wasn’t too hot (it was a bit warm to her taste, but it’d probably get better as she went to his room). Despite the raging beating taking place in her chest, she still knocked with one hand and excused herself before entering (for a moment, she wondered if she shouldn’t have asked permission or waited for him to give it to her before doing so, but the deed was done).

Once she set foot into the bedroom, she was downright surprised to see that he was already asleep, having had the time to change back into some more comfortable clothes it seemed. Afraid to disturb the serenity suddenly possessing the room, a slight smile on her face as she saw him sleep so peacefully, she put the tray on the nightstand, topping it with the saucer, and left like a ghost.

The perfect maid knew how to make herself visible or invisible upon command or depending on the situation, but this time was different. Back against the wall of the room, she was still confused, but her feelings would have to wait.

If she had no master to serve, she still had partners to help.

#bad things happen bingo #danganronpa #ndrv3 #gonrumi #common cold #sickfic #hurt comfort #gonta gokuhara #kirumi tojo #otp: coccinellida #fluff #soft #au: non despair #bthb 1

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