#( also since when do i only have twelve weeks left before i go home?? )

[clochanamarch]

hello my besties i intend to be here tonight!!! i also intend to write over the weekend!!! and i've also decided that several people on the multi are gonna be switched around! but i'm a good mun so here's who's leaving and who's being unwillingly abducted into the squad!

leaving:

etienne monet: the best and happiest and sunshiniest of boys is moving to vancouver to start his own bakery.

ramsay gordón: the king of spices and seasonings is joining the cast of judges in a new and lovely cooking competition, which he also happens to be co-directing!

tre.nt crimm: he's moving to ireland to be with ajay, so not leaving leaving?? but like. special guest status now!

bella raymond: bella moves in next door to the wwd.its family, after jennifer realized that at least 80% of her migraines stemmed from bella not being able to control her vampirism.

JOINING!:

mae.ve wiley (sex edu.cation): maeve joins as a waitress in order to gain insight into american livelihoods and relevant and current issues affecting the american people. she also happens to be fantastic friends with everyone there, which she didn't expect in the least.

edw.ina sharma, anth.ony bridgerton and kathani sha.rma bridger/ton: all three? yes. don't judge me, i have zero self control. also, they happen to be rani's ancestors, and they portalled in too, so there's gonna be so much fun to be had with them trying to adjust to modern life!

annal.ise keating: the squad's new lawyer and the only one who seems quite happy to meet them each time she arrives. they contain their crimes nicely, they have good alibis, they're a dream come true. she shows up for the specials and nate's hazelnut mochacinos.

[eddiethebrave]

secret admirer part twenty-seven

1731 words

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“Steve!” Tommy all but screams into his ear and he tries his best not to flinch. “What’s the rush, man?” he asks, using his grip to spin Steve to face him. 

Steve rolls his eyes and shrugs the teen’s arm off from where he slings it over his shoulders. He crosses his arms. “There’s no rush, Tommy - just not really anything to stick around for, you know?” 

Tommy stares at him blankly for a fraction of a moment before taking a step back and chuckling. It’s kind of forced, if Steve’s being honest. 

Tommy throws his arms out and gestures around them. “Yeah, I guess that’s right, isn’t it?” His arms drop back to his sides and any hopes Steve had of this being a short interaction are thwarted when Tommy leans against the bimmer with a sigh.

“Anyway, what’re you doing right now? ‘Cause I was thinking about that movie that just came out; y’know, the one with the dancing? They’re playing it at the Hawk tonight.”

“Footloose?” Steve questions, curiosity piqued. He's been wanting to go see it since it began screening - which Tommy definitely knows. “Oh man, I totally would. It’s just my… my mom. Yeah. She, uh, has me doing a bunch of shit around town today. Won’t be home ‘till way later.” 

It’s not his best work, but it’ll have to do. 

Tommy nods along, no stranger to seeing Steve act as his parents’ errand boy. “No worries, man. Maybe next time,” he suggests. 

For the first time in this interaction, Steve relaxes. His shoulders slump and he slaps Tommy’s shoulder with the back of his hand. “Next time,” he agrees with a grin. 

Once Tommy has bound off to God knows where, Steve finally sinks into his seat and lets out a sigh as he starts the car. 

Here goes nothing.

When he gets home he almost expects his house to have changed since he’d left this morning - he prepares for the worst but the house is as spotless as it always is. His parents make sure of it. 

Well. His parents make sure he and Megan take care of it. On top of Steve’s chores, his parents hired Megan to stop by every weekend to deep clean the house. 

Steve also suspects his parents ask her if he’s doing his part; there have been multiple occasions where he decides to slack off a little and he sure gets an earful whenever it is his parents next grace their son and Hawkins with their presence. 

Hilariously, Steve recalls the joke Eddie had made on Monday about the maid taking the week off. 

Maybe he won’t mention Megan to Eddie. 

Speaking of Eddie - he should be here any minute now if he didn’t make any stops along the way.

Just as the thought crosses his mind, he hears the rumble of an engine making its way up his driveway. Steve freezes in panic even though he knew this was happening. He jumps at the loud - albeit muffled - sound of a car door slamming. He still hasn’t managed to get his shit together by the time a knock sounds from the front door. 

He doesn’t want to keep him waiting on the front steps, though, so he makes his way over and swings the door open with a smile that drops when he’s only met with the back of Eddie’s head. 

“Eddie,” he beckons - it comes out more like a question. 

The boy in question turns from where he’d been looking, raising his brows and throwing a thumb over his shoulder. “‘Your neighbors always this vigilant, or is it just for little ‘ol me?”

Peering over his shoulder, Steve winces and waves at the house across the street where Mrs. Robinson is standing on her porch with her arms crossed. 

She had taken it way too seriously when his mother had said You’ll keep an eye out for my Steve, won’t you? the first time the woman had called her with ‘concerns.’ 

Not wanting to give her the chance to march over and demand answers, Steve grabs Eddie by the arm and hastily pulls him past the threshold. Steve shuts the door and locks it for good measure. He peers out of the peep hole and once he’s sure they’ve mostly dodged her ire, he exhales and turns to Eddie at his right. 

“... So,” Steve starts, running a hand through his hair, “are you hungry?”

Eddie shakes his head with his lips parted slightly.

Steve forces himself not to let his eyes linger there. 

“Thirsty?”

Steve’s enraptured as Eddie’s face slowly creases up with a grin. He shakes his head again. His hair sweeps across his shoulders with the movement. 

Eddie’s head tilts down and Steve follows his gaze to where his own hand is still latched around Eddie’s forearm. The grip is light, and Steve realizes in horror that he's begun to - fucking - caress him there with his thumb.

Steve rips his hand away and holds it to his chest like it’s wounded. “I- Uh-” he stutters. “... Coke? Water? Juice?” he echoes Eddie’s question from when they’d been at his house. 

Eddie huffs a laugh and shakes his head again, this time in amusement. “If you insist, I’ll do a Coke. Where are we working, Steve?”

Steve releases his hold on his breath and tries to relax. It mostly works. 

Steve’s thought this through. If they worked in the dining room, it would feel too formal and if they worked in his bedroom, it would feel too informal. The sweet spot has to be the living room. 

He leads Eddie there and gestures to all of the seating options. It’s sort of a test he’s found himself giving to his guest over the last couple years. Steve does this to everyone he has over. Where somebody sits can tell you a lot about how they’re feeling. 

Out of all of the options - the couch, the loveseat, the accent chairs, the recliners - Eddie drops his bag to the floor in front of the coffee table and then flops down right beside it. Steve has to say… he hadn’t even considered that an option. 

He tilts his head and peers down at the other teen in consideration. What the hell does the floor mean he’s feeling? This is unprecedented. 

Steve stands there dumbly until Eddie is settled and finally looks back up at him. 

“The service here is really slow, man,” he says with a grim look. Steve blinks in confusion, and Eddie must read it on his face because he laughs lightly. 

“The Coke, Harrington,” Eddie reminds him. 

Steve’s face heats up in embarrassment. “Oh.” He turns without another word and makes his way to the kitchen. He grabs a Coke for Eddie and a bottled water for himself. Before he returns to the livingroom, though, he opens the freezer and sticks his face in there to cool it down. 

On his way back, he grabs his backpack from where he’d dropped it in the foyer. Eddie has already gotten started on his work. Steve moves one of his mom’s ceramic coasters closer to where Eddie’s sitting and drops his drink there before doing the same for himself. 

Eddie thanks him, but his attention is already focused on his paper. 

Steve decides to follow Eddie’s lead and lowers himself to the plush carpet. he sits with his back against the recliner, about five feet away from the other boy. 

Steve takes his time gathering his supplies from his bag. 

He’s been anticipating Eddie bringing up his crush and the notes since he figured it out in the first place. He kind of wants to just get it over with so he can stop bracing himself for a conversation that never takes place.

He’d understood the silence at first - when they were at school and then the diner. This week has thrown him off, though. They’ve been completely alone and Eddie’s had plenty opportunity to talk if that’s what he wants. 

So, Steve has come to the conclusion that Eddie doesn’t wanna talk about it - doesn’t wanna acknowledge it out loud. 

He knows he should be grateful. Really. He should count himself lucky that he hasn’t became the town pariah yet. It’s just. 

Why doesn’t Eddie wanna talk about it? Why did he put the ring back on? What does it mean?

Just like most of the other times they’ve met up like this, they don’t talk much as they work. After about ten minutes of painstakingly refining his drawing, listening to nothing other than the sound of pencils scratching on paper and both of their soft breathing, Steve sets his drawing face-down on the carpet and rises to his feet. 

He can feel the weight of Eddie’s gaze on his back as he makes his way over to the record player. The undivided attention is hard sometimes - it feels different than when Eddie’s looking at him periodically as a reference for his drawing (don’t even get Steve started on the effect those looks have on him). 

He takes a deep breath to steady himself as he flips through the music options. Steve doesn’t put much thought into his choice - he’s kind of expecting Eddie to be a music snob no matter what he plays. When he replaces the old record with the new one, though, he can’t help but bite his lip in amusement as he imagines the boy’s reaction. 

Steve places the needle in the correct spot and hums along to the opening notes of Time After Time. His head bops to the beat as he makes his way back to his spot. He doesn’t look to see what Eddie thinks of the song, but he can feel his gaze. Only when Steve hears the sound of pencil on paper under the music does he chance a look up. He can’t be sure, but he thinks Eddie’s lips are quirked up at the sides. Is he laughing at him? ‘Cause, worth it, honestly.

With the music playing and the boys so focused on their work, neither of them hear the sound of an engine growing closer as it makes it’s way up the drive. Nor do they notice the slam of a car door. Only when the front door to the house opens and closes do they tune in to the intrusion.

Then, “Harrington, you here!?”

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[sansaorgana]

— LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

PART ONE || PART TWO || PART THREE

PAIRING — Ser Gwayne Hightower x fem!Reader // Tyrell!OC

SUMMARY — Gwayne and his wife visit King's Landing with their children, who are very jealous of the fact that their cousins own their dragons and they do not. In the meantime, Otto Hightower wonders if his daughter-in-law is truly loyal to his house.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — It’s written as an usual x Reader fic without describing anything about the Reader’s looks but I still classified it as an OC as well since she is a Tyrell. + You don’t have to know the previous chapters to understand this one and it's the last one of this story. 😊💚 In the show Gwayne mentions that it took him three months to get to King's Landing but I was using some website while writing previous parts where it says that it takes a week from Oldtown to Highgarden and, according to the same logic, it takes less than a month from Highgarden to King's Landing – that's why I decided to make the whole trip only a month long here. 🤔

WARNINGS — Alicent slapping Aegon's face, Reader's child getting hurt (nothing major)

WORD COUNT — 6,870

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

LADY OF THE ROSES (IV)

Past few weeks had been busy and spent on making all the necessary preparations before the long trip. Oldtown would be left without the Lord or Lady to look after it for around three months and it required lots of training and instructing all the servants and knights around the city what to do in your absence.

You had been summoned by your father-in-law and his daughter, The Queen Consort. They had invited your Lord Husband and you to King’s Landing to spend time together – even though you had a very weird feeling the sudden need to create a stronger bond within the family was dictated by some hidden agenda. Either way, you were rather excited for the trip even though it would take about a month on the road to even get to the capital city of Westeros.

What stressed you the most was travelling for so long with four children you had given Gwayne for the past few years. Your eldest son Edmund was twelve now and his brother William was ten. Your daughter Rosalynd was eight and her sister Florys was six. You were glad that the time when you had been pregnant nearly constantly was over now and you could enjoy the ups and downs of motherhood without many worries because your husband was a man devoted to his family. Gwayne had not only been raising his sons and teaching them all they needed to know about the sword but he also made sure to spend quality time with his daughters. And above that all, he was simply a caring and sweet husband. No matter how many years had passed.

Your trip started in the very early morning and you all were half asleep while getting inside the carriage. Rosalynd was sleeping with her head on your lap and little Florys was asleep in her father’s arms. Edmund and William were looking out of the window, excited and interested in everything that they were seeing although the road to The Highgarden was very well known to them. Because you lived so close to your parents, your children were often visiting their castle. 

What started peacefully, soon turned out to be a little nightmare. The children were very whiny and easily getting bored. When you reached The Highgarden a week after leaving Oldtown, you were seriously considering coming back home instead of going further down the Rose Road. 

“It is only the beginning of the trip and it is already exhausting,” you complained to your parents during supper when you were staying overnight at their place.

“You might not get a second chance to go to King’s Landing, my darling,” your father reminded you. “Endure it.”

“Easier said than done, I’m afraid,” Gwayne chuckled and shook his head.

“I do not understand,” your mother spoke up. “Look at them, my grandchildren,” she smiled at the four of your children eating their meals quietly. “They’re so well-behaved. Little angels, really,” she sighed lovingly.

“Perhaps we might leave them here for three moons, how about that?” Your eyes sparkled at the idea. “We shall leave for King's Landing on the morrow while you watch over them.”

“I would love to,” your mother grinned.

“I would not,” your father’s eyes widened at the idea.

“I do not think that is a good idea, my Lady,” Gwayne put his hand on top of yours gently and you looked at him, confused. “To spend three moons without my little ones would be a nightmare,” he explained and your smile dropped.

Gwayne was right. You would miss your children dearly, too. You were sending them sometimes to spend two weeks at The Highgarden with their grandparents and given the fact the trip lasted a week, it would be a month away from you. It was barely bearable already whenever it happened. Three months sounded like torture.

“My Gwayne is right,” you sighed and laid your tired eyes on your mother. “They must go with us. Also, just like Lord Father said, such a chance might not happen again. They should see King’s Landing, too,” you nodded.

In the early morning of the next day, you were already back on the Rose Road, which took you through the town of Bitterbridge to The Kingswood where you entered The Kingsroad and The Crownlands. You had never been there and only two times before you had been on the road for such a long time. Both times it had been to attend your sister’s weddings. One had taken place in Dorne and the second had been in The Vale. 

Once you entered The Kingsroad, it would only take you a few days to reach King’s Landing and you were more than grateful for that. Both you and Gwayne were exhausted after trying to entertain your children on the road and attempting to tame their tantrums caused by boredom and frustration.

The night before reaching King’s Landing you were sleeping at the castle of some lesser Lord who lived nearby the road. You had been given the guest rooms but you couldn’t fall asleep, both excited and anxious about the next day.

“What are you possibly scared of, my love?” Gwayne soothed you by caressing your face with his fingertips when you were laying in his arms and staring at the ceiling instead of drifting off to the land of dreams. “You had met my father already and he seems to be quite indifferent towards you,” he pointed out.

Otto Hightower had visited Oldtown a few times after your wedding to his son and what Gwayne had said was painfully true – he seemed to be indifferent towards you. Just like he was indifferent towards his own son. The only signs of affection you had seen in him were for your daughters. He hadn’t even thanked you for giving him two healthy grandsons and heirs – his attention had been fully focused on the girls. It was quite adorable, you had to admit. But it was also saddening for your husband and sons.

“What about your sister? The King? Will our children get along with their cousins?” You voiced out all your insecurities in a low whisper. “And The Targaryens… I do fear them, Gwayne. People say they are more gods than men.”

“I am sure they are men just like you and I,” Gwayne smiled and kissed your forehead while caressing your arm.

“They have dragons…” You sighed.

“We probably will not even encounter one,” he assured you. “And do not be afraid of my sister or her husband. Are you not always reminding everyone that you are a sister-in-law of The Queen? Now it is time to meet her personally,” he teased and you rolled your eyes.

You somehow managed to get some sleep on that night. In the morning you had your dress prepared already because you had been planning to wear it for quite a long time. Your maids helped you to put on the elegant green gown that was pretty low-cut. You were a daughter of The Highgarden and you had never stopped wearing such necklines. Your own Lord Husband had given up already on trying to change that – in fact, he enjoyed it. You decorated your exposed neck with a golden pendant of The Seven-Pointed Star to make Queen Alicent happy.

Gwayne found it quite funny but you gave him a scolding look.

Your children had green outfits, too. Pretty little green dresses on your girls and dark green tunics with The Hightower beacon embroidered on them on your boys. The Hightowers were coming to King’s Landing.

When you reached the city you were staring out of the window with as much curiosity as your children. Gwayne had been in the capital once before for the tournament when he had been very young so his excitement was not as big.

Lots of people were staring at your carriage with a hint of curiosity. They knew that The Hightowers were The Queen’s family and for that reason some of them waved shyly at you. You were trying to wave back but Rosalynd and Florys were the ones who actually enjoyed it the most – feeling like little Princesses greeting the crowd. So, you allowed them to have fun as you leaned back on your seat. Your hand found Gwayne’s immediately and you squeezed it.

“You better be on your best behaviour once we reach The Red Keep,” you told your sons. “All of you,” you laid your eyes on your giggling daughters.

“You do not need to worry, mother,” Edmund nodded at you and straightened his back, trying to present himself more mature.

“I cannot wait to train with my cousins,” William added. “Father, will we be able to?”

“I do think so,” Gwayne nodded with a smile at him and leaned in to fix William’s ruffled hair.

“I cannot wait to spend time with Princess Helaena,” Rosalynd sighed dreamily. “She must be so ethereal… A Targaryen Princess…”

“I want to see grampa,” Florys’ eyes sparkled and you chuckled at your sweet little girl.

You smiled nervously at your husband when you realised you were already entering The Red Keep’s courtyard and a few people were waiting for you. You spotted your tall father-in-law and that beautiful woman standing next to him had to be Queen Alicent herself. She had soft, curly hair in the auburn colour and her dress was of the same shade of green as yours. You sincerely hoped it would not be considered rude of you but you had no idea. There were three silver-haired children with them – two boys and a girl. They had to be Prince Aegon, Princess Helaena and Prince Aemond.

“Grampa!” Florys clapped her hands excitedly and already moved to the carriage’s door.

“Florys, mummy and daddy are leaving the carriage first,” you reminded her softly.

“Do try to behave like a big girl!” Her older sister scolded her. “We are in King’s Landing!”

“Rosalynd, you are not her Lady Mother,” Gwayne reminded his daughter.

In the meantime, the servant announced your family and opened the door of the carriage. You took a deep breath in and watched your husband get out before offering you his hand to help you. You took it softly and wore a nervous smile before facing your in-laws.

The moment your feet touched the ground, you felt something moving behind your skirts. It was little Florys jumping out of the carriage already and running as fast as possible towards her grandfather. Everyone froze for a moment and widened their eyes at the scene.

“Grampa!” Florys reached her hands out and Otto Hightower let out a nervous chuckle before crouching down to give her a tight squeeze.

“You are being impatient, Lady Florys,” he greeted her and she clapped her hands.

Rosalynd stood by your side with a sigh and an eye-roll. Meanwhile, your sons chose to stand by their father. Since Florys had broken all the protocols already anyway, you decided to simply walk up to The Queen without caring about the right order as you nodded at your husband. He nodded back and only then Rosalynd ran up to her grandfather as well to give him a hug, too.

You sighed and shook your head before walking up to Queen Alicent herself. Your sons followed you and Gwayne while Otto whispered something to the girls, which made their faces go serious as they joined your side, too. You all bowed down respectfully. 

“My Queen,” you greeted her.

“Sister,” Gwayne kissed the palm of her hand.

From the corner of your eye you spotted the older Prince yawning. Queen Alicent blushed and pushed him slightly with her elbow.

“I see we both struggle when it comes to disciplining our offspring,” she smiled at you but you noticed how she looked down at your low-cut dress and the religious pendant on your exposed chest. She chewed on the inside of her cheek at the sight but she decided not to comment.

“Lady Hightower,” your father-in-law kissed the palm of your hand.

“Lord Father,” you greeted him and he gave you a shadow of a smile.

At his son, he only nodded. Gwayne nodded back and clenched his jaw.

“My grandsons,” Otto approached your boys and shook their hands. “Let me introduce the young Princes to you,” he pointed at the silver-haired boys standing by Queen Alicent’s side. “Prince Aegon, Prince Aemond.”

“Lord Edmund,” Edmund introduced himself and extended his hand towards Aegon. Prince Aegon looked him up and down and after a while of hesitation, he shook your son’s hand.

“Lord William,” your younger boy introduced himself and reached out for Aemond’s hand. Prince Aemond shook it shyly.

“Are you Princess Helaena?” Rosalynd stood in front of the Princess with Florys hiding behind her. 

The silver-haired girl widened her eyes and looked pretty startled. She took a step back and Rosalynd furrowed her brow.

“Princess Helaena is of a… rather timid nature,” Queen Alicent explained.

“Let us come inside, you must be exhausted after the journey,” Otto pointed at the doors leading to the castle.

“Do not even get me started, Lord Father,” Gwayne chuckled. “And certainly do not get my Lady Wife started,” he added teasingly and you shot him a scolding glance.

The first day was pretty chaotic because everyone was exhausted but also excited to see as much as possible of The Red Keep. Otto Hightower gave you and your children a tour himself. The only place he avoided were the chambers of The King who was ill and you had already been told you would not see him most likely.

Gwayne had already seen The Red Keep before but it had been before his sister was The Queen so now he was allowed in more places. He joined your little tour and kept his hands on your sons’ shoulders, while your daughters were holding Otto’s hands. 

To your surprise, during the supper, you quite befriended Queen Alicent. Of course she was still frowning upon your dress but you bonded over the experience of motherhood.

“The Red Keep is so green now,” your father-in-law pointed out happily at the sight of you, his children and grandchildren by the long table. All dressed in green clothes to show off their Hightower surname. “It makes me glad. Gwayne, I would like to have a word with you after supper.”

“Tomorrow, father,” Gwayne shook his head. “We are tired after the journey.”

Otto didn’t say anything to that but he gave his son quite an unpleasant look. You squeezed your husband’s hand underneath the table and caressed the palm of his hand lovingly to soothe him.

You retired to your chambers pretty early because you were longing for the comforts of a bed. Your husband and children followed and you made sure they all found their rooms and beds before you went to your own chambers.

“What do you think is the matter he wishes to discuss with you?” You asked Gwayne while brushing your hair in front of the mirror by the vanity table. He was sitting up on the bed and watching you with admiration in his eyes as every evening. “Do you think it is something about Oldtown?”

“No,” Gwayne shakes his head. “Those instructions have always been sent to us by ravens. It must be something about… the future and its possibilities.”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” You furrowed your brow and turned around to see his face better.

“You know that my father wants Prince Aegon on The Iron Throne, not Princess Rhaenyra,” your husband reminded you. “And The King might die soon. We are not even allowed to see him.”

“They say he is slowly decaying with each passing day,” you winced when you imagined such a thing happening to a person.

“That must be a terrible fate,” Gwayne sighed. “However, his death will bring the conflict of succession.”

“What conflict?” You asked. “Aegon is his eldest son.”

Gwayne squinted his eyes and then shook his head with a chuckle.

“My father is underestimating you, my sweetling,” he hummed to himself. “Now, come here, since we are sleeping in The Red Keep, I want to make you feel like a Princess,” he opened his arms for you to join him but you only scoffed and put the hairbrush down before fixing your hair with your hands.

“I am not a child anymore, Lord Husband,” you teased. “You shall make me feel like a Queen.”

You and Queen Alicent were sitting in the garden together and watching your daughters trying to befriend each other. Rosalynd and Florys were pretty grossed out and shocked to see Princess Helaena sitting on the grass and picking up all sorts of bugs and insects to examine with her curious eyes. She handed Rosalynd a spider once and your daughter nearly fainted at the sight.

Princess Helaena was of a gentle nature, though. She seemed to like her younger cousins and she was whispering to them all the details about every bug she was picking up. Florys was more interested in them than Rosalynd. Your eight years old daughter was often shooting you meaningful glances but you were only smiling at her in return.

The young princes and your sons were training together in the courtyard with Gwayne and Ser Criston Cole, whom you had recently met. You wondered how it was going, so you decided to finally put Rosalynd out of her misery.

“Shall we check on our sons, Your Grace?” You asked Queen Alicent but she seemed to be surprised.

“What for?” She inquired. “Are they not with the men who teach them?”

“I like to watch my sons while they train and cheer for them,” you told her and smiled softly. She visibly did not understand the appeal of it but she stood up from the bench and you followed. “Girls,” you looked behind your shoulder and extended your hand. “Come.”

Florys ran up to you to take your hand while Rosalynd and Helaena followed quietly behind you. You could hear your daughter desperately trying to start a conversation she was dying to have with a real Princess.

“You must own so many beautiful dresses, Helaena! What is your favourite colour?”

“Beige,” Helaena answered, clearly uninterested but also not wanting to make her cousin sad.

“Nice…” Rosalynd sighed and you could hear that she was disappointed in that answer. “Do you think you could give me some of your old dresses that do not fit you anymore?”

“Rosalynd!” You gasped as you scolded her.

“That is quite alright, Lady Hightower. We shall gift Rosalynd some of Helaena’s old dresses,” Queen Alicent nodded at you and caressed her daughter’s head lovingly.

“Thank you, my Queen,” you smiled at her and then you gave Rosalynd a meaningful look.

“Thank you, aunt,” the girl bowed down happily.

You reached the courtyard but to your surprise, your sons and the young princes were spending time together on their own, whispering and laughing about something, while your husband seemed to be in the middle of an argument with the other knight.

“Is that what you teach them, Ser Criston?” Gwayne was irritated. “Knights shall be chivalrous and rightful.”

“They are no knights, Ser Gwayne, for they are young princes,” Ser Criston answered.

“Gwayne,” you approached them quickly to stand beside your husband and rub his arm before intertwining yours with his. “How is the training going?”

“Oh, rather marvellous, Lady Wife,” he answered, his voice filled with irony and mockery as he looked Ser Criston up and down. “I have a fascinating conversation with Ser Criston here about the manners of a knight. Perhaps they do not teach them in Dorne.”

“You are from Dorne, Ser?” You tried to change the subject as you looked at the man standing in front of you.

“Yes, my Lady,” Ser Criston nodded at you.

“My sister Olenna married a lesser Lord from Dorne,” you told him. “A Toland,” you explained.

“I hope she has found her happiness with him, my Lady,” Ser Criston cracked a smile at you, which made Gwayne move uncomfortably.

“Barely,” you had to admit with a sigh and Ser Criston’s smile turned into a frown.

Before the conversation would become even more awkward, you were interrupted by Edmund and William running up to you and tugging onto your skirts, making both you and your husband turn around.

“What is it?” You asked them.

“Can we go to the dragon pit to see the dragons?!” William’s eyes widened out of excitement.

“I do not think that is a good idea,” you shook your head as your heart skipped a beat out of fear at the thought.

“We only wish to see them,” Edmund explained. “Father…”

“Your mother is right,” Gwayne agreed with you.

“But should not a knight be brave? I want to see a dragon and so does William!” Edmund insisted and sadly, the mention of the knighthood convinced your husband – especially after an argument with Ser Criston about the very same matter.

“Alright then, but be careful you two,” Gwayne nodded and you watched with terror in your eyes as two of your sons ran away to join their cousins and a few servants on the way.

“Gwayne…!” You gasped.

“Worry not,” Queen Alicent’s voice made you turn around. “The Dragonkeepers and the guards are there.”

After hearing this, your daughters seemed to be interested as well. Rosalynd gave you puppy eyes.

“Can we go, too, mother?” She asked.

“Are you a squire, Rosalynd? Or Florys – is she?” You shook your head.

“Let them go, my Lady. It is better to feed the curiosity instead of letting it grow,” Ser Criston spoke and you shot him a deadly glance but you were sort of forced to agree to your daughter’s request now.

You nodded, reluctantly and watched the girls run away to join their brothers and cousins. Princess Helaena remained by her mother’s side, though.

“What about the young Princess?” Gwayne asked her with a smile and lifted her chin up gently with his finger.

“I do not find pleasure in flying, uncle,” she admitted.

You quickly regretted your decision to allow your children to see the dragons. They seemed to be mesmerised by the creatures and they could not stop whining about the fact they did not have their own beasts to ride.

“They are our cousins, mother,” Edmund kept whining to you on your way back from the supper. “Vhagar is so huge… It is so unfair we do not have any dragons and they do have so many!”

“They are princes and you are lords,” you reminded him. “They are Targaryens and you are Hightowers,” you added. “There is no shame in being different.”

“We are not different, Lady Mother,” Rosalynd rolled her eyes. “We are simply worse.”

“I am not jealous,” Florys saved the day with her sweet confession although her siblings shot her a deadly glance. She clinged to her father’s hand and sighed. “Dragons are big and I am small,” she explained and you chuckled because you found her reasoning adorable.

“You are just a coward because you are a girl!” William pointed out.

“I am a girl, too!” Rosalynd protested. “And I am not afraid. In fact, I would surely have a bigger dragon than you!”

“That is enough,” Gwayne shushed them. “Go to your beds, all of you. Sweet dreams about dragons – dreams, only,” he pointed out with a chuckle but the children did not find it funny.

“Goodnight, daddy, mummy,” Florys nodded and dragged Rosalynd with her to their shared chambers. Your older daughter only mumbled her goodnight.

“Goodnight,” Edmund and William both nodded and walked away, still frustrated and offended by the injustice of life and your light treatment of their situation.

You and Gwayne looked at each other and chuckled before going to your own bedroom.

You were asleep in your husband’s arms. The bed you shared in The Red Keep was twice as big as the one you had in Oldtown but you still were sleeping close in the middle of it. Your face was buried in the thin fabric of his shirt and Gwayne had his chin on top of your head and his arms wrapped around you just like yours were wrapped around his chest.

Sudden, loud and rapid knocking upon your doors made you both startle in your sleep and open your eyes. Gwayne sat up and rubbed his eyes and you hid your yawn with your hand.

“What is it?!” Your husband grunted and left the bed to grab a robe laying on the chair and put it on loosely. You sat up as well and watched his silhouette approaching the doors in the darkness of the room. “Someone better be dying,” Gwayne opened the doors and looked the servant up and down.

“F-forgive me for the rapid interruption, my Lord, my Lady…” The man stuttered. He was holding a candle to light up the room a little. “It is about your children…”

Your heart skipped a beat at that and you jumped out of the bed to stand behind your husband.

“What is it? What happened?!” You inquired. “Which children?”

“Lord Edmund is hurt, my Lady. Lord William and Lady Rosalynd seem to be alright but they were involved in it, too,” the servant swallowed thickly after delivering the dreadful news.

“Hurt?!” You squealed and squeezed your husband’s arm out of fear.

“Involved in what?” Gwayne furrowed his eyebrow.

“Apparently, young lords and the lady attempted to claim their own dragons with the help of Prince Aegon,” the servant explained and you nearly fainted at the news. Gwayne’s face went a shade paler in an instant.

“Where are they now?” He asked.

“Everyone is gathering, my Lord. You are expected in the dining hall,” he explained and walked away.

“Gods…” You whimpered and grabbed the very first dress to put on over your nightgown. You did not care much about your appearance at such a moment. Your hands were shaking because you were worried about your children, especially Edmund who was hurt.

Looking presentable enough, both you and Gwayne hurried downstairs and straight into the dining hall. Queen Alicent was there, too and so were Ser Cole and your father-in-law. Your eldest son was being looked after by a maester while William and Rosalynd were standing behind him with their heads kept low. Florys was scared and clinging to Otto’s hand. Prince Aegon looked pretty terrified, too, and he was not even smirking or laughing as usual.

“What happened?! Edmund!” You left Gwayne’s side to rush to your son. Your heart clenched inside your chest at the sight of his cheek burnt slightly. His lips and eyes were unharmed and for that he was lucky but there was a long burnt line on his cheek that would surely not heal completely and leave a scar. “Oh, Edmund…!” You sobbed and pressed the good side of his face to your chest.

“I am alright, mother,” he whispered.

“What were you thinking?!” Gwayne lost his temper but you knew it was dictated by worry and fear. “Grown tired of living, have you?!” He addressed William and Rosalynd now and they both looked away, ashamed.

“I did not go, daddy!” Florys exclaimed proudly. “And I was telling them it was a bad idea!”

“Shut your mouth, Florys!” Rosalynd scolded her and Florys hid herself behind her grandfather. Gwayne clenched his jaw.

“Do not speak to your sister this way, Rosalynd. Do not speak at all, I advise,” he pointed his finger at his daughter and she looked down again. “Whose idea was it?!”

Both William and Rosalynd pointed their fingers at Edmund. Even Florys stuck her little hand out from behind her grandfather to point at her eldest brother.

“Traitors!” Edmund shouted at them.

You looked down at your son’s face. He winced while the maester was putting an ointment on his injury.

“You’re scarred for life,” you sniffled your tears back. “My sweet boy…”

“I have nearly gained a dragon,” he told you proudly. “And the scar does not bother me, mother, for I have survived the attempt. I shall try again soon.”

“You could never own a dragon, son! Only Targaryens can own and ride them! It is common knowledge!” Gwayne raised his hands up as if he was giving up.

Aegon moved uncomfortably while Edmund shot him a glance full of hatred.

“What is it?” Queen Alicent asked, already sensing her own son’s involvement in this whole thing being much worse than she had expected.

“It was Aegon!” Edmund’s lower lip trembled suddenly. “He told us we could gain our own dragons, too! That we can claim the spare ones or Helaena’s since she has no interest in it!” He confessed.

Now everyone’s angry eyes were laid upon the young Prince. He huffed with an eye roll but his cheeks turned crimson red.

“I did not know,” he whispered. “I did not know that only we can ride them.”

You were filled with rage. Your eldest son liked to pretend he was more mature than the rest of his siblings but he was only twelve after all – he was still a child. Prince Aegon was the eldest out of the cousins and he should had known better.

“You have cruelly teased my children to risk their lives… To… To possibly lose them and die!” You approached him angrily and began to shake him by his arms. You couldn't care less that he was a Prince. You wanted him punished. “And now you are playing a fool by saying such a stupidity! You insolent son of a–”

“(Y/N),” Gwayne stopped you as he rushed to you and put his hand on your shoulder but you shrugged it off.

“Edmund has a scar for life!” You sobbed again.

“Mother, I am alright!” Your son’s voice reached your ears.

“I did not know…!” Scared Aegon was trying to get out of your grip and Queen Alicent was attempting to help him by pushing your hands away.

“Lady Hightower, be reasonable!” She pleaded. “I shall punish my son accordingly but it is my punishment to give him, not yours!”

“My children could have died! All of them!” You screamed at her.

“Not me!” Florys squealed.

“Shush, my darling,” Otto scolded her gently. “All of us should calm down now. After all, everybody is alive, thank Gods,” he pointed out and you pushed Aegon away before angrily turning around.

The maester was no longer sitting by Edmund’s side and now you approached your boy to grab him by his shirt and drag him towards Otto.

“Look at him! My son nearly died!” You yelled at him. “Do not order me to calm down, Lord Father!”

“Mother, let go of me, it hurts,” Edmund whined and you stopped pulling him by his shirt but your whole body was trembling out of anger, fear and frustration. “Young Prince Aegon should learn how to treat other people, especially the weaker ones…” You patted your own chest with your fist and your son huffed at the word weaker. “...if you wish to put him on the throne!” You finished and the whole room went silent.

It was something that should not be said out loud. Thankfully, everyone inside the dining hall was on the same side when it came to the conflict of succession.

“That is enough, my Lady,” Gwayne shook his head and put his hands on your shoulders to walk you out of his surprised father’s sight. “I am sure Prince Aegon will be punished for his behaviour by his own parents.”

“I did not know, I swear!” Aegon whined. “I would not want cousin Edmund or cousin William to get hurt and especially not cousin Rosalynd!”

“Save it!” Queen Alicent scolded him angrily and slapped his face. “You have outdone yourself this time, Aegon!”

Gwayne was rubbing your arms soothingly and pressed you closer to his body by putting his hand in the back of your head. Your heartbeat was slowing down and your breath was coming back to normal.

“I think we should all agree to collectively remove Lady Hightower’s accusation from our memories,” Otto spoke calmly. “And that it is time to go back to our beds.”

All of your children approached you, clinging to your skirts, except for Edmund who felt stupid and guilty now, embarrassed. He was looking down and clasped his hands behind his back but Gwayne put his hand around his shoulders to pull him closer.

“Your grandfather is right, it is time to go back to our beds. If we manage to fall asleep after such a night,” he pointed out.

Prince Aegon did not show up for the breakfast and you were glad he did not because you would tear him apart if you saw him. Now, after taking a better look at your son’s injury in the morning light, you were heartbroken. His scar would probably look intimidating when he would become the fearsome knight he wanted to be but you were his mother and your heart ached for him. 

The breakfast overall was pretty quiet and after the meal Gwayne took your sons to the courtyard to continue their training while Rosalynd and Florys followed Queen Alicent to Princess Helaena’s chambers for the girls to embroider together. Rosalynd also hoped to try on some of Princess Helaena’s dresses. You considered not allowing her to take any as a form of punishment for yesterday's stunt but you eventually decided it would be too cruel.

You were asked by your father-in-law to see him after breakfast and you kind of dreaded the conversation because you had a feeling what it would be about. Gwayne wanted to accompany you but you disagreed because it would make you look weak and scared. You had to face Otto Hightower alone. Gwayne had reluctantly agreed but he had assured you that he would remain by your side no matter what your father-in-law would say to you.

On your way to his chambers, you walked past Prince Aegon’s room. The doors were ajar and he was sitting on the edge of his bed. At first, seeing him brought back all the memories from the last night and all the anger. But after a short while of staring at him, you noticed that he was… sad.

It confused you as you kept staring and in the meantime, he spotted your presence. He got startled a little, knowing that you were alone now since his guard was nowhere to be seen and his mother was not there to push you away if you attacked him again.

He approached the doors to close them but he kept glancing at you like a beaten dog and even dared to speak.

“Is my cousin alright, aunt?” He asked quietly, his voice filled with guilt and worry. Suddenly, you started to have a feeling he had not been lying. Perhaps he truly had not known about the Targaryens being the only people who could ride dragons.

It would not surprise you because your father-in-law had been complaining about Prince Aegon not wanting to study his books and his knowledge of High Valyrian was… questionable.

“Edmund is quite alright,” you nodded at him and took a step ahead before he would close the doors. “Can we talk?”

Aegon hesitated but he looked down and nodded, letting you inside. You entered his chambers and looked around, humming at the sight of a wine goblet on his nightstand table.

“I truly did not know about the dragons, I am sorry,” Aegon confessed. “I know I am of a rather careless nature but I would not risk my cousins’ life,” he added and you sighed.

After a short while of hesitation, you approached him and caressed his hair before putting a silver strand behind his ear and lifting his chin up to make him look into your eyes.

“I am sorry for my outburst, young Prince. I do believe you now,” you assured him with a soft smile. “It still was irresponsible and foolish but I see now that your intentions were not malicious,” you nodded and his eyes sparkled at your words.

“Really? You do believe me, aunt?” He couldn’t be convinced and it made you sad to see it.

“I do,” you moved your hand away from his face. “To see a scar on my son’s face is painful for a mother but I do realise he does not mind it at all and he is proud of how he gained it. Let it be then,” you sighed. “It cannot be undone anyway.”

A short while of silence occurred between you two and you smiled at Aegon before approaching the doors again.

“You should join uncle Gwayne and my sons in the courtyard, my Prince. They are training with Ser Cole and young Prince Aemond,” you encouraged him. “And I shall leave now to speak with your grandfather.”

Aegon nodded at you and you left his chambers to hurry to Otto Hightower’s room where he was already waiting for you. He gave you a scolding look when you entered.

“What took you so long, Lady Hightower?” He asked, sitting on an armchair by the fireplace.

“I was stopped on the way, Lord Father,” you explained calmly and he pointed at the armchair next to his. You took a seat there and waited for him to start the conversation.

“We shall speak about last night,” he started.

“I do believe it was your idea to remove my accusations from the memory,” you reminded and he shot you an unpleasant glance.

“I need to know where you stand,” he looked deep into your eyes.

“Where do I stand?” You furrowed your brows. “What does it matter?”

“You have a great influence on my son. Much bigger than a wife should have on any man,” Otto pointed out. “I need to know I can trust you.”

“Speak plainly, Lord Father,” you challenged him with a head held high. “And I shall tell you.”

Otto hesitated as he looked at the dancing flames for a while. You waited patiently until he eventually laid his eyes on you again with the most serious expression.

“Do you support Prince Aegon as the future King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men?” Otto lowered his voice – his whispers were nearly audible.

“I believe you wish to know if I support your treason,” you raised an eyebrow and Otto clenched his jaw. “I do,” you nodded. “Prince Aegon is half-Hightower and I shall always support my family,” you added and stood up. “Does that answer satisfy you, my Lord? I shall join my sons and husband in the courtyard. I have promised them to watch their training,” you explained.

“You can go,” Otto dismissed you and you turned around but then you stopped.

“Lord Father?” You looked at him one more time.

“Yes?” He looked up to meet your gaze with furrowed brows.

“I shall ensure that my own Lord Father – Lord Tyrell – supports King Aegon when the time comes,” you promised.

Otto only nodded at you and you nodded back before walking out of his chambers and hurrying downstairs to the courtyard.

You smiled at the sight of your boys being instructed by their father. Prince Aegon joined them in the meantime as well and you waved at them all before taking a seat on the bench as usual – to watch and cheer.

After giving your sons their instructions, Gwayne gave them some space and joined your side as he sat next to you.

“What did my father want from you, darling?” He asked, worryingly.

“He wondered about my loyalty,” you scoffed and looked up at your husband’s face to fix a reckless auburn hair strand falling onto his face. “As if I didn’t give him four grandchildren to inherit his wealth and titles. As if I didn’t run Oldtown in his name for years. As if I didn’t love his son with every heartbeat of mine,” you finished quietly and a slight blush brightened your husband’s cheeks.

“Last night must have frightened him,” Gwayne explained. “You were rather furious with Prince Aegon.”

“Every parent would be,” you rolled your eyes. “Were you not furious, too?”

“I was but I did not show it,” Gwayne pointed out.

“Every person reacts differently,” you shrugged. “Either way, such conflicts always happen sooner or later between the family members. I shall not take them outside,” you assured Gwayne and took his hand to squeeze it. “I gave birth to four Hightowers. How could I play on any other team?” You asked, genuinely.

Gwayne squeezed your hand back and moved a little closer to you, as much as his armour allowed him. You both watched your sons train with loving smiles on your faces.

At one point, young Prince Aegon looked at you and smiled at you nervously. You smiled back and waved at him even, which caused his own smile to grow wider. Poor boy had no idea what responsibility was being plotted to be put onto his back.

MASTERLIST

[starlostastronaut]

NEW YEAR TRADITIONS WITH SKZ

ot8 × reader - fluff, headcanons

summary - what new year traditions would you do with stray kids

links - masterlist

note: this is a scheduled post i've had prepared for about a week. writing hiatus is still ongoing. also traditions are taken from this website

happy new year my loves! ✨️ i still have few hours until midnight left, but i'm posting this a little early, so i don't flood it with end of the year posts. may your new year be as amazing as possible and i'll see you all in 2025 <33 enjoy reading! <3

BANG CHAN - jumping seven waves

chan took you to spend new years with him in australia

to welcome the new year, you decided to have a picnic on the beach and watch the sunset

which was when chan suggested the tradition

he read online how people in brazil jump over seven waves for good luck and wanted to try it

well, the sea was right there and everyone could use a little extra luck anyway

you held hands as you stood in the water together

LEE MINHO - eating twelve grapes

as soon as minho heard about the spanish tradition, he had to make it a competition

and being just as competitive, you agreed

it was a tradition meant to bring good luck, but it also looked like a fun activity

minho prepared the grapes in pretty bowls for when the midnight comes

you sat opposite each other as midnight approached, both treating as a serious matter

you both managed to finish in time, but you were a few seconds faster (which meant you were absolutely going to bring it up any chance you got in the following year)

SEO CHANGBIN - smashing peppermint pig

changbin heard about the tradition from one of his friends

at first he thought it was a little funny, but it was supposed to bring good health and happiness and you get to eat the candy afterwards, so why not?

you laughed when he showed up with the pig and explained the tradition to you, but seeing how excited he was, you agreed

it turned out to be pretty fun when you eventually broke it and fed each other pieces of the pig

you made a mental reminder to do this again next year, and maybe try out some other traditions

HWANG HYUNJIN - midnight kiss

hyunjin is nothing but a romantic

he always wanted to do the midnight kiss tradition with his partner, so when you decided to spend new years together, he immediately started planning

he decorated his place perfectly and you had a lovely evening

when he asked you about the kiss, you agreed immediately, since you wanted to ask him the same

he sets at least 3 timers to not forget and miss midnight

HAN JISUNG - new year movie marathon

jisung and you are both homebodies, prefering to spend new years together at home, rather than partying out with your friends

but you spending time lazying around in the comfort of your home was pretty much a standard and you wanted to do something special still, since it was new years after all

so jisung proposed a movie marathon, but only movies that would match the vibes

you searched up top new years movies, making your own list of what you and jisung liked the most

and so new years was spent in jisung's bed, cuddling and watching movies all evening (and the following morning)

LEE FELIX - watching fireworks

originally felix wanted to set off your own fireworks, but you quickly shut that idea down

luckily for felix, every year there was a big firework show and your balcony had the perfect view

felix came over in the afternoon, working hard to turn your balcony into the most perfect coziest spot to sit together

when the sky got dark, you two went out on the balcony, felix poured champagne into glasses while you prepared some snacks

cuddling under a blanket, you watched the firework show together

KIM SEUNGMIN - writing new year resolutions

everyone knows seungmin is organized and likes to plan things

and when he suggested making a resolutions list to follow, you thought why not

before midnight you sat down together, writing down your wishes and challenges to tackle in the new year, decorating the papers so they look pretty

right before midnight you pinned your lists to the fridge so you can be reminded of them every day

(and it wouldn't be you two if you and seungmin didn't make fun of certain resolutions you each wrote down)

YANG JEONGIN - light sparklers

jeongin wanted to do something fun for your first new years together

so he went out and bought (probably too much) sparklers for you to light together

as soon as it got properly dark, he was tugging you outside

at first you took some aesthetic pictures, both solo and together

jeongin ended up running around and drawing shapes into the air with the light and after taking a video of him, you joined the fun

© starlostastronaut 2024 | do not repost/translate my work without permission

[readsaboutreid]

Permanent Solution | S.R.

cw: big big warning for suicidal ideation (first person POV so you get some of the full on thought spiraling) typical criminal minds violence (reader gets kidnapped by an unsub and tortured but it doesn’t get too descriptive), extreme angst, Morgan being a dick at first (I love him but he was the only person I could really see for the role he fills in the plot with his tell it like it is vibes) but he gets his redemption in pt 2 i promise

no request for this one i had a real bad day and needed to use my thought spiral in some sort of creative outlet to get myself out of it so i took it out on spencer and reader sorry in advance y'all

"None of us like you."

The words rattled around in my brain as I walked absent-mindedly, my destination already in the back of my mind. I hadn't made this walk in five months. The five months before that had been focused on reducing the number of times I took this path.

First, the goal had been to reduce the number of times I felt compelled to take this particular walk. Walks overall weren't out of the question, and were actually encouraged. Especially walks where I shared the company with someone else. But this specific one was different. It carried a different weight. The initial goal set with my therapist had been to reduce how often I walked this path from nearly every night to no more than two or three times a week, substituting it with a different path through a different and more active part of town. After that, the goal was to move to only walking this path once a week. Then, ideally, none at all.

Ten months. Ten months of twice-weekly therapy sessions down the drain. With five measly words. I started to wonder what Spencer would say if he knew where I was headed, but shook my head free of the thought. He'd be better off in the end, anyways. The wind bit into my cheeks and I tugged the green cardigan that hung loosely off my shoulders so that it was tighter around me, the only protection from the cold that seeped down into my bones. I began to walk faster as I shivered, trying anything I could to warm up my body even just a little bit, and thought back to the encounter from earlier that had caused me to spiral so suddenly and severely.

"—none of us like you," Morgan said to me, cutting me off right as I was attempting to defend my previous decision to turn down the previous drink night invitations in the twelve months since I'd been at the BAU, resulting in Spencer also turning them down and going home with me, instead for the last eleven out of twelve of those months. The expression on his face matched the complete and utter disdain dripping from each and every word. "Not even Hotch, who got you the job in the first place, seems to want you on the team anymore. The only person who ever wants you to be around is Reid, and none of us can figure out why." When he finished I took a look around the table to see everyone else just looking down and avoiding my gaze, including Penelope, who had become somewhat of a sister to me in the past year.

"You—," my voice caught in my throat at that point and I cleared it, trying to sound as steady as I could as I asked, "A-all of you share this sentiment?" Despite strength I had tried to muster to ask that question, my voice only came out thick and wavery, and it was all I could do to keep my lip and lower jaw from trembling. I had tried as hard as possible to overcome myself since starting at the BAU, to believe that the people around me genuinely enjoyed my presence and didn't secretly roll their eyes and sigh in relief when I left the room, but apparently I had failed to make them like me and that's exactly what they felt.

"You'll have to excuse me, please," I gasped as the information presented to me sank in. I then stood, my eyes swimming with tears, and ran from the table they had all situated themselves into at the bar, only to run head on into Spencer, who grabbed my by the shoulders with a soft laugh and gentle smile.

"Easy there, (Y/N)," he chuckled while steadying me. It was only then that he realized something was wrong and his smile was immediately replaced with a concerned frown. "Hey, what's wrong, angel?" I shook my head, shook free of his grasp, and kept making for the door, my head slowing down a bit as I finally was able to take in a breath of fresh air as I made it outside.

Spencer hastily followed after me, right at my heels. "(Y/N)! (Y/N), wait!" He called after me, pushing his way through the crowd and finally out the door as well before wrapping me tightly in his arms. "Hey, now, what's wrong, love?" He cooed as he pressed my head into his chest and wrapped his cardigan around my shoulders when he felt me tremble.

I hesitated, debating what to say to him. I could either tell him the truth and earn the further ire of our colleagues by snitching or I could do what I do best: blow every thing up so there would be nobody else to blame but myself. I opted for the latter.

With a deep, shuddering breath, I finally managed to force the words from my throat. Each one stabbed into my chest with the force of a dull butter knife. "I— th-this—," I stumbled, "th-this isn't working, Spencer." My voice was barely above a whisper by the end when I finally met his eyes, which quickly filled with tears at hearing my words.

"Wh-what?" The word came out as nothing more than a breath but within it I swear I could hear the crack in his chest that echoed the one in my own. "Why— wh-what— I don't— where is this coming from?"

"I'm sorry," I said through soft sobs before I turned and ran off, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with tears slowly beginning to fall down his cheeks.

I had broken his heart, ensuring that he, too, would hate me. That was the plan. I had to push him away and make him hate me as much as the rest of them so that it would hurt him less when they found me. I made the last turn and found myself at my destination - the 11th Street bridge.

Spencer stood on the sidewalk, staring after her long after she had disappeared around the corner up ahead. He ran through the events of the past hour, trying to figure out what he could have done.

"You can go without me, Spencer," she protested as he tried to convince her to go out for drink night with the rest of the team.

"Please come with me? It will be fun, I promise!" It was a strange reversal for him to be the one trying to coax someone else into going out. Usually it was Morgan trying to convince him to go out (Garcia had literally forced him to go out with her after a particularly rough case or two), but now he decided to pay it forward to get his girlfriend to come out with their team and have some much needed fun. "What's the worst that could happen?"

"What if they don't actually want me there?" She asked, her voice small and timid.

"That's ridiculous! Why wouldn't they want you there? You're amazing," he smiled at her, starting to pepper her face with kisses in an attempt to cheer her up. She giggled quietly, not really trying as she made to push him away. He continued his assault, kissing her cheeks, forehead, nose, and lips, over and over with light pecks. When she finally acquiesced, he was giddy with excitement and felt a swell of pride in his chest at the progress she had made since they met.

As they stepped out of his car he grabbed her hand and saw her face twist with anxiety. He gave her hand a soft, reassuring squeeze before his phone rang, the number for the mental facility his mother currently resided in showing on the screen. "I need to take this, head on inside and I'll be right there, okay angel?" She swallowed nervously and walked inside, and he took the call.

5 minutes and 29 seconds.

That's how long he had been on the phone. Whatever had happened had taken only 5 minutes and 29 seconds. And it ended his relationship.

Spencer found himself pushing the door open and walking back inside the bar. His blood rushed in his ears as he approached the table and stared at all of his coworkers.

"What happened?" He asked, his voice just loud enough to be heard above the music.

"Reid," Morgan started, but Spencer cut him off. "Don't look at us like th—"

"Whatever was said in the 5 minutes and 29 seconds I was on the phone with my mother's hospital resulted in me getting dumped on the sidewalk outside when not even 30 minutes ago (Y/N) was laughing, and smiling, and happy. So what. Happened?" He seethed.

"Alright, you want to know what happened, Reid?" Morgan snapped, preparing to stand up and tell him off before being stopped by Penelope, who looked as though she was still on the verge of tears. 

“Reid, I’m sorry,” she whispered as she stood up instead, standing in front of Spencer. “I should have stopped him,” she continued, shaking her head. “I shouldn’t have let him talk to her like that.” 

“What did he tell her?” Spencer turned to Garcia, interrupting Derek as he opened his mouth to interject. 

“I told her the truth,” Morgan slurred, finishing off what the rest of them knew was his fourth glass of whiskey. Spencer opted to ignore his clearly drunk colleague and continued to address Garcia. 

“Garcia, what did he say to my girlfriend?” Spencer insisted, his anger being slowly replaced by a sense of growing dread. 

“He— he told her nobody wanted her around,” she admitted, her eyes closing and her face twisting with guilt before she hastily added, “which of course that’s not the case! I love (Y/N) like she’s my own sister...” Spencer felt his heart drop into the pit that had become his stomach as his fears were confirmed.  

“But?” Spencer added, tilting his head to the side, his voice growing quieter as the conversation continued. 

“...but the rest of us miss you, Spence,” JJ finally spoke up. “We haven’t seen you in ages outside of work! If she’s keeping you from spending time with your friends, that's a little bit of a red flag, isn't it?” She reasoned, standing to put a hand on his bicep to calm him.  

He angrily shook her off, the anxiety coursing through his veins shifting back into an icy rage. “She hasn’t kept me from doing anything, Jennifer,” he spat through gritted teeth as he held her gaze, which was a mix of shock and hurt at his tone.  

“Spence, I just meant that—” JJ started, but was immediately interrupted by Spencer, whose rage was steadily growing to the point where he was certain he was visibly trembling. 

“In fact, she has been continually insisting that I leave her behind to come out with you all, but given that I don’t drink much to begin with I usually just opt for a night in with her. I didn’t realize I needed permission from the rest of the team to make that decision for myself,” he bit back before turning to leave. 

“Where are you going, Reid? Reid! Come on, man, be reasonable!” Morgan called out, only for Spencer to ignore him and keep walking. If he stayed there any longer, he knew he would end up saying something he’d regret, and with the way most of them were talking about his girlfriend—ex-girlfriend—he figured they’d find some way to blame her for his outburst if he did.

When he finally exited the bar, he felt a hand wrap around his wrist and he turned on his heel, preparing for another round of arguing, only to be met with the now tear-streaked cheeks of Penelope Garcia. 

“What do you want, Garcia?” He snapped, his face softening as he took in her apologetic expression. 

“I— I’m sorry, Spencer,” she whispered. “I should have told Derek to shut up, I’m so sorry! I just— I hate when the people I love start fighting like that! I shut down and— and I know I should have stood up for her but I just— I just froze like a coward and—” her voice grew more frantic and upset before Spencer cut her off. 

“Garcia, it’s not your fault,” Spencer sighed, his anger fading away until the only thing he felt was the ache in his chest. “Derek was drunk and belligerent. You’re not responsible for his actions.” He paused as he took a deep, shuddering breath. “I just wish I could have been there to put a stop to it. She’s so sweet, and kind, and utterly terrified of people. I shouldn’t have sent her in by herself knowing that." His voice cracked as a fresh wave of tears started to fall down his own cheeks. 

“Spencer, you had no way of knowing any of this would happen,” Penelope wrapped Spencer in a tight hug, and he finally broke down. His body shook gently with soft, nearly silent sobs and he cried into her shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Spencer. I know how much you love her.” Garcia’s own voice cracked as her heart ached for the crying boy in her arms.  

“Wh— what do I do, Penelope?” He mumbled into the sleeve of her sweater. “I just want to help her feel better.” That’s all he’d wanted since he’d first laid eyes on her. He’d never forget how emaciated she had looked, her skin pallid and her eyes nothing more than dim, lifeless pits with dark bruise-like rings underneath them.  

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet Dr. (Y/L/N). She just graduated from the academy and has expertise in psycholinguistics as well as a doctorate in neuropsychology, so I have no doubt she’ll be an excellent addition to the team.”

Spencer had tried his hardest in the two months after that initial introduction to get to know her, to understand why she looked like a reanimated corpse (albeit a very beautiful one) who had just wandered out of a morgue. Over those two months, the two of them had grown closer and closer, thanks to much insistent pushing from him. At first, it came in the form of attempting to get her to join the rest of them for drinks at their bar of choice (the others would never invite her themselves but Spencer would insist to her that it was okay, that she was a part of the team), but quickly he realized that all might be a bit too much for her. So, one night, he told the team he wasn’t feeling up to going out and instead privately asked (Y/N) if she’d want to join him for pizza and a movie at his place since he wasn't feeling up to big crowds and he had a feeling neither was she. He had been prepared to be turned down but was pleasantly surprised when her face showed the slightest expression of piqued interest and she agreed.

He then started to skip out on pretty much all of the future invitations to go out for drinks with the rest of the team, opting instead to go home for pizza and Doctor Who or Star Trek marathons with her, and he started seeing a whole other side to her that no one else had even suspected could have existed. She’d slowly opened to him, occasionally letting out quiet and restrained laughs at his goofy jokes and puns at the beginning of their friendship.

Eventually, those soft titters grew into ebullient, beautiful laughs that were like music to his ears. Her smiles went from being forced and never meeting her eyes to lighting up her entire face, at times so brightly that Spencer swore she could illuminate a dark room with nothing but her smile. She showed that there was a side to her that was goofy, outgoing, and full of life.

It was around then (November 17 at 11:57 PM) that their relationship had started officially with a soft, tentative kiss goodnight; but from the very first time he heard her let out a soft, breathy giggle at his goofy joke about Spock having three ears (‘a left ear, a right ear, and a final front-ier!’), Spencer knew that he would marry her someday.

Or at least he had thought so, until tonight.  

“Give her some space to sort out her emotions, Spencer,” the voice of Penelope Garcia in his ear dragged him back into the present, her arms still wrapped tightly around him. “She loves you more than anything, and we both know that.” She let go and gave him a teary smile before wiping her cheeks.  

“You’re right,” he replied, taking in another deep, shuddering breath. “Plus, she walked away with my cardigan, and we both know she’s a stickler about returning borrowed clothing!” He attempted a joke, but the laugh he tried to give after cracking it came out more like another choked sob.  

“If I were you, I’d just give her a quick phone call and let her know that you love her no matter what anyone else says or thinks, okay? She needs to know that more than she needs anything else right now.”  

“Right. Yes, you’re right,” he muttered, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. “Thank you, Penelope.” 

“I’m always here for you, Spencer,” she smiled at him before adding, “both of you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I must go tear Agent Morgan a new asshole for getting you dumped and hurting my best friend.” She took a second to shake her head and rub her own cheeks to dry them. “Call me once she makes it home safely to you, okay? Promise?” He nodded quietly. “Uh-uh-uh, what was it that one kid had told you a while back? ‘A promise doesn’t count unless you say it out loud,’ right?” 

“I promise,” Spencer felt a small smile tugging on the corner of his lips. He then walked down the block to his car, got in, and drove home to wait for (Y/N).  

When he arrived and had walked through the doorway, he pulled his cell phone from his pocket and dialed her number. It rang four times and then went to her voicemail.  

“Hi, you’ve reached the voicemail of Dr. (Y/L/N), I can’t come to the phone right now but if you leave your name and number, I’ll return your call as soon as I am able. Thanks!” Beep. 

“Hi, (Y/N). So, Penelope filled me in on everything that happened,” he began shakily, and took a deep breath before he continued. “I’m so sorry that I wasn’t there to stop Morgan from saying all of that, but please, please know that no one hates you, I promise. Penelope assured me that she was going to tear him a new one for what he said, and I promised her that I’d call her once you made it home safely.” He paused, searching for his next words carefully, and settled on, “I love you so much, angel. Please, please never forget that.” And then he had to hang up the phone, his eyes filling with more tears.  

He made his way to the couch and sat down, turning the TV on and finding a marathon of Buffy the Vampire Slayer playing. Knowing it was her favorite show, he left it on and patiently waited. On the couch sat a small stuffed cat with a blue and white spotted mushroom for a head that he had gifted her on a whim, Dr. Mewshroom, as she had taken to calling it. He grabbed Dr. Mewshroom and hugged it close to his chest as he leaned back on the couch and eventually dozed off. 

I paced up and down the 11th Street bridge for an hour before I decided to hop up and sit on the railing. My walking had warmed me up significantly, so I shed the cardigan Spencer had wrapped around my shoulders. Hopefully, it would be returned to him when they eventually found me. I stared down into the dark water beneath my dangling feet and tried to find the courage within me to jump, but I couldn’t give myself the final push I needed, just like all of the previous times I’d made this trip.  

I must have sat there for fifteen more minutes or so before I decided to give it up and go home to Spencer. Maybe, if I begged and pleaded with him, he’d take me back. I checked my phone to see that I had a missed call from him. Weird, I hadn’t even heard it ring. Before I could turn myself around to hop off the railing, I was grabbed from behind and a cloth was pressed to my mouth and nose, blocking me from screaming. My nose and throat filled with a burning sensation before everything faded to black... 

[missbuckyhellfire]

This Will Be My Year : Eddie Munson

MASTER LIST:

Previous Part

Part Twelve: First Steps

Warnings:,Kissing, Discussion of Death Of Parent, Anxiety, Teasing, Family Trauma

Writer's Note: This part was difficult to write, as seen in the size of this part. Recently, a family member passed, leaving behind a young child so this hits home to me. So please be advised of the warnings for this part. Also thanks for waiting!

Eddie made sure that they kept it between the two of us until they met with the group next time. Audra knew that Mike and the younger kids would be upset with the revelation that  their beloved dungeon master was sleeping with their tutor. Yet, it was for the best that the two of them decided to have their own little date beforehand and see if this would actually work out for them.

Audra was honestly relieved when Jason finally started dating Chrissy, it was a loss of stress on her part. It was getting annoying to hear him call to her, wanting to go on dates and what not. However, now she would get the occasional threat on burning in hell for joining Hellfire club.  It’s the least of her worries.

Especially when she found that “F” on her music quiz. Sure it was only 5% but that hurt hard on her own ego. She was always so smart on these topics, but now she is failing music, one of her strong passions. She knew she had to ask Eddie for help, knowing he is playing in a band and all, but she hated to feel like a failure on her part.

Growing up, she always had to be the best, no matter what and cost.

It was a Friday night and Audra was in her room curling her hair blasting Alice Cooper as she had straightened her red hair wearing the vest Eddie gave her with a white tank top underneath. She worn her faded jeans with her black boots.

Anxiety was flooding through her head as she began to wonder what was going to happen tonight. Was Eddie gonna tease her when she asks him for help? Or would he say no? Regardless, she knew Eddie and was excited to go on this first date with him. For the past week, Robin and Steve have been pestering her about her upcoming date, asking her what she was going to wear, what they would do or wont do. They were looking out for her, but they also didn’t have any type of action so they wanted to pester someone for advice and tips.

“I am not sure what we are doing, we decided to take it slow.”

“Come on, you know he wants to!” Steve sighs. “It is so fuckin clear.”

“I told him to wait!”

The three of them had stopped outside the video store and looked at each other. Steve knew that he wasn’t going to get much out of her, but knew that Robin definitely will be the first to know.

************************************************************************

Eddie picked Audra up outside of the small diner they agreed to go to. It wasn’t much, but it was a small classic diner that he joked that his dad used to take his mom to. He never really got into what happened to his parents, except that his dad was in jail. Audra didn’t want to ask anything of the sort, especially since they were going out on their first date together. And she didn’t want to fuck this up since her last partner.

They sat down across from each other at the restaurant as the waitress looked at the two up and down before she had scuffed up his hair before walking away. His cheeks turned red in embarrassment as he looked down. The waitress was middle aged with dark hair and darker eyes with a bright smile on her face, even after she left them.

“Who was that? “Audra said.

“Just a friend of my mom’s” He sighed for a moment, looking at Audra. " She was around a lot, even when mom got sick." The eyes then glanced at the ground trying to focus on anything except what was just said. He felt a strong pang in his stomach, feeling the fear of exposure creep onto him.

"You didn't tell me she passed."

"Can we talk about something else?" His voice was firm.

Audra kept to her word as she kept her mouth shut about it. She didn’t want to ruin this date that was a long time coming.  She nodded and changed the subject, she didn’t want him to get upset.

************************************************************************

Eddie and Audra didn’t last long after they left the diner after sharing some fries and having their own milkshakes. Their hands were all over each other even on the way from the diner, with each of their hands crawling under the other’s clothes. They needed to have each other and wanted it wherever they could get it.

Finally, Audra drove them to his trailer. Eddie was into it, but was so distracted from what happened earlier. His mind was off to elsewhere, wondering where and why he had to go to that diner, where his shitty father would take his mom to.  He felt like a fool, taking to the place where his dad tricked his mom he would always be there for them until he couldn’t take the responsibility of his kid. 

Yet for a few moments, he was spaced out as Audra’s lips were stuck on his neck. They were still in the car as he would hear Audra’s voice purr under her breath. Driving him to do something he will likely regret in the morning.

“Princess you’re playing a dangerous game.” His voice was a growl, teasing her daring her to step closer into this game.

“Oh am I? “She giggles under her breath.

“Yes, your going to take me under your control , make me do anything that you wish.” He played along.

Audra paused for a moment remembering what she thought of asking him earlier. This would be a interesting way to bring it up.

“Anything.” Her kisses gotten slower as Eddie groaned in response.

“Yes, please! Stop it.” Eddie groaned under his breath. He was trying to hard to not make it seem as though she is succeeding in the art of seduction. Yet, she knew it was working.

“Even if you could perhaps, help me with my music class?” Her voice was such a soft whisper, even though Eddie gave a loud holler.

“PRINCESS SAYS WHAT!?” He almost pushed her away from him. He couldn’t believe miss book nerd was the one asking for help from him. His brown eyes were risen with shock and interest as he never thought he would see the day that quite possibly the smartest girl in his world would be asking for help. “But you love music…”

“I do but clearly I need help with coursework.” Audra shrugged. She knew that Eddie was having the time of his life right now as his nerd was asking for help.

“Ok, ok I will stop.” Eddie sighed as he pulled her back in as he kissed her neck a bit more. “I GUESS I can find some time in my busy schedule for you.” Audra could feel the smirk in her neck.

“You are unbelievable Eddie” Audra chuckled.

“Hey, I am busy too you know.” Eddie licked a stripe on her neck. “Now where were we?”.

The two didn’t need to remind themselves what was going on before the sudden question. They quickly went back to their make out session in the car. Nothing else happened that night except exploring their bodies with their lips and tongue.

[drunknillawafer]

right down the line: zuko x firebender!reader | part 6

You grew up close to the Royal Family due to your father's position as a General, but you ran away from home after the agni kai against your best friend, Zuko. Now, you've joined the Gaang and plan on doing your part in ending the 100-year war.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 7

hellooo part 6 oo we're in book 2 territory now... also i am changing stuff to fit my character into this world so just be open to those changes plzzz i do not own these characters and they are not mine! i hope you guys are liking the story so far! I'm so excited I'm already thinking about what I'm going to do when book 3 comes around... rmr to like reblog or comment, i truly want to know ur thoughts because this is my first fic so i hope I'm doing a good job. thank you to everyone who has supported it so far!! even if its 17 ppl idc like that's 17 individuals who bother to read what i write so... thank you!! enjoy >.< about 2000 words

⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙⁺˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚⁺‧͙

It was a day like the others, the year before Ozai’s unfair punishment. I’d go to the Royal Palace after school to play or practice, whichever we felt like.

When Zuko and I opened the door that led to the duck pond, his little sister, Azula, was already there with her friends, Ty Lee and Mai.

Azula’s already proven to be ruthless for a 10-year-old. She’s constantly reminding Zuko of his ‘failure’ to live up to the responsibility of Fire Lord just because he’s not as vicious as her. In this home, they favored brutality over honor, and if you know Zuko, he’s all honor. Even at twelve years old, you can tell he won’t grow to be like his father before him and it’s a problem.

She’s only gotten worse since their mother disappeared 2 years ago. No one knows the specifics, but Azula says their grandfather ordered the Fire Lord to kill Zuko and she never lets him forget it.

As we walk toward our usual spot, the little girl comes up to us.

“Zuzu, come play with us!” she says with a hint of mischief in her voice.

“No! I’m busy.” Zuko replies, brushing her off. We continue walking to reach the other side of the pasture, far away from his sister and her friends.

“Fine.” With Azula, fine isn’t just fine. It’s code for I’ll get you somehow.

But I try to keep my thoughts about her to myself. She is younger than us and I’m not scared of her. It’s Zuko she doesn’t see as a threat. As for me, she’s known not to push it. Since we all have the same fire-bending master, she’s well aware I’m better than the both of them.

When we reach our spot, we sit to take our swords from their sheaths. Today it’s blades, yesterday it was bending. We almost forget Azula’s in our vicinity when Mai comes crashing down onto Zuko, making her blush.

Mai is a year younger than us, and she’s always had this crush on him. Everyone knows. I know.

But unlike Azula, I don’t humiliate her with the fact. Even if the thought of Zuko returning the feelings makes me uncomfortable.

Mai quickly gets up and apologizes for stumbling on top of him and Zuko, in all his emotional glory, yells at his sister. “Stop it! It’s not funny.”

She grins with her arms folded. “Oh, but it is, dumb-dumb. I told you to play with me!”

“That’s not how you get people to play with you!” I stand up for him, knowing it’s a losing battle if he’s all alone in his defense.

“Whatever.” She replies and focuses her attention on Ty Lee’s handstand. Probably thinking of a way to ruin that too.

It’s clear we won’t be left alone to spar in peace.

“Want to go to my room?” He asks. Familiar amber eyes gazing into mine.

Butterflies appear in my stomach. I’ve been to his room thousands of times, millions if it was possible. It wasn’t abnormal. But lately, I can’t stop these stupid bugs.

My feelings for my best friend are changing, I just hope his are too.

“Sure.”

A few weeks have passed since the failed ambush of the Northern Water Tribe by the Fire Nation. Admiral Zhao is presumed dead, and the empire retreated. They were long gone, and this loss was too shameful to ever attempt something like it again.

Though, the adrenaline from the win would be nothing compared to the loss felt by the masses. We lost some people, rebuilding was commencing, and the tribe had lost their princess. The Chief had lost his daughter.

While it pained Sokka and I to inform him of the news, what he said in return brought peace to all of us. He said he had a vision of a beautiful young woman sacrificing her life for her people and it wasn’t until that fateful day that he knew it was his daughter. Warmth embraced us all after he spoke. What better way to show your love for your people than to become the moon itself? It was bittersweet. To know she couldn’t walk with us but be with us wherever we go on planet Earth.

If only I knew how I felt about encountering Zuko for the first time in three years.

I honestly didn’t know what to think, act, or be. It all happened so fast.

Having to save Aang in the middle of our encounter distracted me long enough. Letting down the Chief and Yue becoming the moon spirit distracted me long enough. Hell, seeing Iroh for the first time in a while distracted me long enough. But eventually, the dust settles and there’s nothing but his face in my thoughts.

His hair is different, and he looks… sharper around the edges. He’s stronger and his bending is different than before, more determined and intentional. He seems tired.

I replay our interaction in my head multiple times a day, sometimes in my dreams. Each time, I think about what I could have said instead. Other times he doesn’t strike me in the ribs. But then I wake up or come back to reality and the scar of his burn on my side reminds me: he’s no longer my Zuko.

I mourn the gentle boy I once knew.

All our good moments flash through my mind like an orchestrated play. Growing up together. Elementary memories of playing and later, practicing our sparring and bending together. Silent moments where we both sat and stared as the sun painted orange across the sky, once we were done for the day. Being the first person we looked for at a royal party and feeling relief when our eyes locked together, assuring that we won’t spend the night bored out of our minds. Silly things I didn’t think I’d miss so much.

But it was hard to feel bad for him when he was someone else entirely.

I shouldn’t have, but I took it easy on him. I thought there was some sort of silent agreement that we would never hurt each other, like when we were sparring. But at some point in time, practice became fighting, and nobody told me.

I spent three years thinking about this exact moment and I never once thought we’d be on two different sides of this war.

It was different for him, I suppose. He stopped practicing the moment Ozai told him to get up and fight.

The swirl of feelings dizzied me, going from I hate him to I missed him. From where is he? to I think I could find him if I tried.  

But I don’t know how that would land on Aang, Katara, and Sokka.

Zuko’s been terrorizing them since Aang came out of the ice, before they crossed paths with Jet and me. I’m not even sure how they feel about my past with their first enemy. I’ll make a note to ask later.

I’ve been in my head the entire time we went through the cave of two lovers. I think some badger moles got us out and the nomads went their own way once we made it through.

Apparently, we’re heading to Omashu so Aang can learn earth-bending from his old friend, King Bumi.

Sokka’s catching me up to speed, but his voice sounds like it could be a thousand miles away from my mind. “It’s pretty cool, I didn’t really like being trapped and thinking I was going to die but that’s not the point- Hey, are you okay?” He grabs my elbow and stops us in our tracks. His eyes look into mine, looking for me.

He shares a glance with Katara that prompts her to say, “Let's take a break from walking, guys. Aang, c'mon I think I see some water. I want to see what you know before you become an earth-bender.”

“Okay!” The young Avatar replies, eager for alone time with his favorite person. They smile at me before leaving, and I feel left out of a certain loop.

Once they’re far away enough, I reply to Sokka’s question. “I’m okay, why?”

“You’ve just been off… since the invasion.” He scratches the back of his neck as he confesses his concerns.

“It was a lot, I mean. Yue—”

“I know, but you’ve pulled away from all of us.” Almost shyly, he continues, “From me.”

“Oh.”

“But we all want to know if you’re okay.” He hurries to add.

“I’ve been thinking about some stuff is all.” I let out a sigh, a poor attempt at trying to let go of what’s bothering me. “I just hadn’t seen him in a long time. And when I do, he’s fighting me.” I look down at my boots, begging for the dry dirt to become quicksand. My cheeks are getting hot and the familiar knot in my throat is forming. This is why I didn’t want to talk about it.

“Yeah, he does that.” Sokka scoffs. “He’s a jerk. He can be mean to us, I get it! The Avatar and everything. But being mean to you was unnecessary.”

The knot in my throat quickly forms into a tone that’s harsher than I mean it. “Was it?” Sokka’s taken aback and instantly, I’m regretful for it. “Sorry… I don’t know what I feel.”

I investigate his icy stare and for the first time, I feel the distance I’ve put between us. Unfortunately, I think it’s there to stay.

He raises his hands in defense, “I get it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Did you like him?” I finally understand what he’s been saying. Why he wanted to talk. He wanted to talk about us and how Zuko fits into that equation.

“No—I… uh...” the words leave me.

“I see.”

"That's not a confession."

"Then say no."

“Does it matter?” I ask, becoming irritated with his attitude.

“Does it?” Sokka’s stern voice rarely makes an appearance, but when it does, it surprises me. Leave it to Zuko to cause an argument when he’s not even here.

Before I can answer, Katara and Aang return, looking chippier than we do.

“Break’s over?” she asks us, furrowing her brows as she takes in our body language.

“Yeah, it’s over.” Sokka huffs and walks away, leading us to our destination.

☆

With Sokka guiding us, he proudly gestures towards the Earth Kingdom land. “Ladies and gentlemen, the city of Omashu!” When I finally intake what they’ve all been talking about, I know what we see isn’t what they were describing.

“Oh no.” Aang says for all of us.

The fire emblems are too loud to ignore. Omashu’s been occupied.

☆

As the four of us stand in our fight mode, ready to negotiate Bumi for the Mayor’s baby boy, I see three girls in the distance. I see her first.

My heart drops down to my core, the way it did when I first saw Zuko after all these years. Just when I thought the reunions were over, the universe shows me exactly what it is I ran away from. Finally, after all this time, I have to face what I did.

“No.” I mumble.

“What?” Aang asks. They all turn to me. Now that they know who I am, they know I must know whoever is coming to negotiate on the empire’s behalf.

I should have known it would be Mai, but her little brother was not born when I last saw her. When we all went to the Royal Fire Academy for Girls.

I don’t have enough time to warn them, you never do when she’s involved.

“It’s Azula.”

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

tag list <3: @camilleverreault @staygoldsquatchling02

[sweetiepoison]

Famous Baby Blurb (The Night Out)

You threw your head back allowing the shot of vodka to burn as it went down your throat. You giggled leaning forward, placing the glass back down on the table.

“What number is that?” Willy yelled from across the table.

“8?” You questioned turning your head to look at Auston for confirmation.

“No!” He objected. “I think it’s 9.”

“No.” You protested back. “We had four at Mitch and Steph’s, two when we first got here, and then these two.” You gestured down to the four shot glasses on the table.

“Nuh uh” Auston shook his head. “We had one in the car over here too.”

You tried to remember the car ride to the bar but it felt like it was hours ago now and impossible to recall. “It doesn’t matter, we’re still tied.”

“You can’t admit you’re wrong.” Auston crossed his arms, smirking over at you.

“Yes I can.”

“Then say it.”

“Say what?”

“Say you’re wrong and I’m right.”

“Auston,” you sighed “please just be grateful that I’m even talking to you.”

“You should be the one that’s grateful. Do you know how many girls would kill to be in your spot right now.”

“Enough for your inflated ego to talk about it.”

Auston shrugged pushing your now empty shot glasses to the edge of the table for one of the workers to pick up. “I’m just saying you should feel special.”

You let out a sarcastic laugh, “I’m (y/f/n) (y/l/n), I don’t need anyone to make me feel special.”

It was now Auston’s turn to roll his eyes, “And I’m the one with the big ego?”

“Talk to me when you’re the number one artist in the world”

“Don’t need to worry about it, I’m the number one hockey player in the world.”

“Were options limited this past year?” Your sarcastic tone and tilt of the head didn’t phase Auston.

“They actually chose me based on my skill, not me performing with autotune and short skirts.”

“Sorry what was that” you cupped your left ear “I couldn’t hear you over my auto tuned song.”

Your song that has sat at the #1 spot on the charts for the past few weeks played through the speakers. It was perfect timing. You never got used to hearing your own voice or watching other people sing along to your words, but it was also the best feeling.

You smirked as Auston got up from the table without another word knowing that you won that conversation. You hummed along as ‘Thank u, next’ slowly faded into another song.

“Here.” Auston returned to the table sitting down another shot in front of you. “To inflated egos.”

You laughed, but raised your glass with his and threw the liquid back down your throat.

The night carried on much like the beginning, but somewhere along the way you lost count of your shots, but it got to a point where you no longer cared. You were beyond drunk, but this was the first time in a while you were actually able to enjoy yourself.

Your world tour was about to start up and you knew this was the only break you’d be having for a while. You planned to leave Toronto the next day, go back home to spend time with your family for a few days and then tour starts.

“She’s hammered.” Justin watched as you swayed to the music, holding onto Steph.

“At least they’re having fun.” Morgan commented, also watching all the girls giggle and dance together.

“How many shots did you guys end up taking?”

“Twelve, but she thinks it’s higher.” Auston explained, “she’s been cut off since midnight, I payed the bartender to replace all of her drinks and shots with water.”

Both Morgan and Justin shared a look and then put their attention onto Auston.

“What?” Auston asked noticing the way they were looking at him.

“That’s just a nice thing to do for someone you hate.” Morgan shrugged not wanting to make it a big deal.

“I figured her getting alcohol poisoning would put a hold on the whole tour thing. Consider it community service.”

“Well, thank you for your service.” Morgan chuckled standing up, “but I’m getting Tessa and we’re going to go home before she damages something.”

As morgan approached the group of girls to grab his wife you all immediately began booing and begging him to let Tessa stay a little longer. When it became clear your pleas weren’t going to work you all made your way back to the group.

You attempted to place your glass down on the table but it slipped out of your hand and landed with a thud on the ground.

“Okay.” Justin picked up the glass. “That’s it your done for the night.”

“No.” You pouted crossing your arms. “I out drank Auston, so now I’m celebrating.” You refused to take no for an answer leaning across the table to grab another glass.

“Nope.” Auston picked up the glass before you could reach it.

“Auston.” You glared at him from across the table.

“You won, there’s nothing else to prove, time to go home.” Auston leaned back, knowing there would be no argument and that his word would be final.

“Don’t talk to me like im a child.”

“Then stop acting like one.”

“Justin.” You huffed and turned too quickly toward your best friend causing you to stumble, but the mishap didn’t stop you, “Tell Auston to shut up.”

But before he could respond Morgan and Tessa were back, “We have a problem. Papparazi are outside and they aren’t leaving until you two come out. Morgan pointed toward you and Justin.

“She can’t even walk straight right now.” Justin pointed at you leaning against the table for support.

“Okay then what do we do because we have about 30 minutes until this place closes.” Willy reminded all of you looking down at his watch.

“I can call and get one of my guys to pick us up out front.” Justin gestured between himself and Hailey. “But I’m not letting her go out there like this.” He gestured toward you.

“Tell Mike to come around to the back.” Auston learned your drivers name from earlier when he dropped you all off at the bar. You insisted he take you, not trusting anyone else. “I’ve got an idea.”

Once the plan was set into place, Morgan, Tessa, Mitch, Steph, Willy, and a few of the younger guys all left first. Justin and Hailey prepared to leave next, preparing you as well without you knowing.

“Trust me. You guys go out the front and at the same time I’ll take her out the back, they’ll never know.” Auston reassured Justin.

“She’s gonna fight you, once she realizes what’s going on.”

“I can handle her.”

As Justin and Hailey walked toward the front door you frowned realizing that they were actually leaving not going to get another round like you thought.

Auston picked you up and placed you over his shoulder before you could react. You immediately began hitting his back and yelling at him to put you down. He got you to the back where Mike was waiting and placed you in the car getting in after.

“Don’t ever do that again!” You yelled stressing the first two words.

“Don’t worry, I don’t plan on it.” Auston put his hands up in defense.

“First off, I dont need you man handling me to get me out of a bar!” You yelled throwing your arms in the air, “Secondly, why did you wake him up?” Your finger flew toward the front seat.

Mike had been working as your driver since the beginning and more often than not where you went he followed. However, you never liked to make him stay up late just for you.

“You couldn’t stand up straight, let alone walk.” Auston fired back his voice also rising to match yours. “And it was either wake him up or your picture would be on the front page of every magazine tomorrow morning, drunk and stumbling.” Auston didn’t expect you to be overjoyed with how things went down, but he didn’t intend for you to be so ungrateful.

You knew you were wrong, but being stubborn was something you were good at. And you weren’t ready to apologize yet, so you crossed your arms and shifted your body so you were facing the window.

You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol or all the bumps in the Toronto streets but you soon began to feel sick.

“Mike, can I please have a bag?” You asked waiting for the plastic bag to be handed back. As soon as it was you were throwing up into it.

You felt hands that could only belong to Auston bundle your hair into a ponytail as he held it out of your face. You wished you only got sick once, but unfortunately it was three more times before you sat back up. You tied up the bag and placed it on the ground and wiped your mouth.

“Thank you.” You mumbled as Auston let go of your hair and sat back in his seat.

“Don’t mention it.” He replied. The car fell back into silence and that’s how it remained for the rest of the drive.

The next morning you left Toronto very early, but not before you dropped off a gift at Scotiabank arena. Auston arrived to afternoon practice expecting it to be a tough one, but what he didn’t expect was the envelope waiting in his locker for him. It was blank except for one sentence ‘thank you and I’m sorry’

He opened up the envelope and smiled at the contents. Inside were six vip tickets to your show in Arizona along with backstage passes.

It was over three months ago when Auston explained that his little cousins loved you and wanted to attend your concert but it sold out before they could buy tickets, of course this admission was also followed by a jab about him not understanding why anyone would want to see you. But you remembered the conversation and figured it was the start to an apology.

He tucked the envelope into his bag and sent you a quick text. ‘Thanks, I’ll see you in Arizona’

[onpurposeilovehimonpurpose]

Rating: Explicit Chapters: 1/1 Series: Forever

Fandom: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston Rating: Mature Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox, Shaan/Zahra, Nora/June/Pez, Martha/Philip, Ellen/Leo Characters: Alex Claremont-Diaz, Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, and other characters who appeared in the book. Post Book / Henry's Chapter Spoilers / Divergent: Red White & Royal Blue (2019), Anal Sex, Oral Sex, Happy Sex, Hurt with lots of comfort and support, Angst, Indomitable love, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant, Post-Canon

AN: I haven't been feeling well enough to write much this year or do much here. But I wrote a little something earlier today, so I'm gonna share that while I can. Thanks to all who have been patient, encouraging and inspiring. I wish all of you a safe, healthy and happy New Year.

It’s 2024, and nobody knows they’re engaged. 

Except for their closest family, friends, and security, which amounts to fourteen people, they’ve managed to keep it a secret from the public for a whole year. It would be twelve people in the know, but Philip figured it out, and that meant Martha had to be looped in, too. Somehow they’ve all done it, they managed to go a full year without the press finding out. Most of them have dodged questions about it, and they have never deviated from their prepared responses. Alex and Henry have worn their engagement rings since they simultaneously proposed last New Year’s Eve. Henry wore his engagement ring on a necklace that also had the key to the brownstone on it. Alex wore his ring on his necklace beside the key to his childhood home. 

Back in May, Alex slipped up and forgot to take off the engagement ring when he left the privacy of their home. He had been in a rush to get out of the car waiting to take him to the airport because his dad had been in a minor car accident. Even though he had spoken to Oscar himself, and his dad had assured him he was fine, Alex was shaken and not thinking clearly. Thankfully the back of their brownstone had a private car entrance and Cash, sitting in the back of the car beside him, casually covered Alex’s hand with his own and tapped the ring to remind him of it. 

Henry’s slip-up happened back in March when Alex and Henry were staying the week at Kensington to attend Martha’s birthday party. This led to Philip figuring out the status of his and Alex’s relationship. They were in the music room, and Henry was playing a song that one of his favorite composers had written for his girlfriend. He told Alex the story of Rumahn spending months perfecting it, only for Helena to refuse his offer of marriage after he played it for her. Henry confessed to Alex that he had been working on a piece for him and was nervous to show him, but joked that Alex hadn’t refused him, so it was probably safe to let him hear it. At that moment, Philip had cleared his throat, alerting them both to his presence, and asked when they planned to inform the Crown.

Henry was no longer a working member of the royal family, and informing the Crown, if he chose to, would be a courtesy, not a requirement. Once Philip was reminded of this, surprisingly, he had been on board with keeping the secret on the condition that he was allowed to include Martha. He and Martha’s daughter, Sara, was born last year, and becoming a father softened Philip and helped bring the royal siblings closer. They were trying to have an open, honest relationship, and this meant that Henry had to trust his brother not to tell anyone else.

Initially, they hadn’t intended to keep their engagement a secret for as long as they had. They wanted to wait a little while, to have a wedding date and a general plan in place before the Crown, the Whitehouse staff, other than Zahra, and the rest of the world found out about it. But every time they planned to announce it, something got in the way that would make such an announcement seem like it was in poor taste.

It was Alex’s mom’s last term as President, and she was doing everything she could to tie up loose ends and leave the country better off than she had found it. After nearly two years of negotiations and strategic planning, Ellen secured a landmark trade agreement with Canada that would provide hundreds of thousands of American jobs. It happened to come through the same week Alex and Henry planned to announce their engagement. As soon as Alex heard the news, he knew there was no way they could go public and risk the President’s amazing win being buried under the insane amount of press he and Henry’s engagement would garner. 

Alex honestly didn’t care that their next planned announcement date happened to be three days before the first anniversary of the previous monarch’s death. Henry’s mom had been concerned with backlash from the British public when they told her the planned date. Even though Alex and Henry both secretly liked the idea even more when they realized this, they agreed that it was best for Catherine if they chose another date.

The next date, the next, and then the next were thwarted for various reasons. By September, they had gotten used to shoving their rings onto their necklaces, avoiding questions about the future of their relationship, and never referring to the other as their fiance in a public setting. Alex and Henry concluded that they were fine with not ever making their engagement public.

They were also fine with never making their wedding date public, too.

-continued in 2025 Pt-1

[twimshi]

Macha and Mango (Sugawara x reader)

A/N wrote this WIP suga x reader, im not that well-versed in romance but!! i couldnt help but write this for my KING KOUSHI (also bc i had an ephipany when i got married to him in tomodachi life on my 3ds. PLZ LEAVE UR COMMENTS, I LITRALLY LIVE OF IT SO PLZ DEW NAWT BE SHY. (tell me what you think/want to see in the future, bc this fic touches on a few things but im still not too sure on the actual direction)

Music i recc reading this too: Pier 4 (clairo) Steam (shellly) Still love you (The tulips) or any intrumental of something sweet really sets the mood.

SUMMARY: YN is gracefully (forcefully) kicked out of her house to get some fresh air because she's been a bum at home. After a while, she meets a particularly pretty girl who seems stuck on a tree.

Mornings are always better after she’s used the toilet, the troubles of yesterday flushed away quite literally.

On summer breaks she’d usually stay at home watching cartoons that she couldnt catch up with during the school week, but unfortunately, YN’s nocturnal routine was RUDELY interrupted by her nagging mother. Something about making new friends and creating meaningful youthful memories.

PAH! She was perfectly capable of making memories on her couch, like right now. She hanged upside down on her couch to scoop ice cream in her mouth, she’s sure no one was as skilled as upside down icecream eating as her!

But with her skin becoming stickier from sweat, and her mothers adamant nagging, she had no choice to go out of her safe heaven (totally after not getting kicked out from her house, totally not)

The sun is way too bright for YN’s liking, could it like, dim down… Why did humans even have to be awake during the day? Night was way more fun, all the shows were around the time of her ‘bedtime’ and no one would ask a meek twelve-year-old girl to walk out for ‘fresh air’

This sucks balls, seriously.

She angrily plopped herself on a grass patch that seemed relatively free from ants.

With her leaning on the tree, she idly watches a group of kids her age play some sport, tag?

She wonders if she should engage for a moment, she was definitely tag material with how fast she runs (That time her mom called her to join her for icecream for breakfast was one of the rare times she participated in her mom’s weekly morning jogs) 

While she entertained the idea of new friends, she couldnt be bothered, running like way too much effort.

That was totally not the fact that she was worried about intruding.

It does make her wonder, if she just walk in and be a part of those kids running, to be a part of something bigger than herself.

Maybe like that girl who was running after the boy to pass him some water before he goes back to playing soccer.

It would feel pretty special would it not?

YN lets herself lean back on the tree, maybe if she had something special or do something special then maybe— just maybe, she’d have something to be proud of.

She checks the time on her Tamagotchi watch.

How can it only be five minutes since I left home?!

There was no way her mom was gonna let her in the house yet. Maybe she could report her to the police for child negligence…

No! Evil thoughts begon! But the idea was slightly entertaining—

Why was this tree sniffling?

YN sticks her head near on the tree. Strange, the sounds are gone. She covers her one side of her ear to get a better listen.

I must be the chosen one.

If going out and being a loner meant she could be chosen by Mother Nature, she would have left her room a long time ago.

She looks up to the sky to thank the gods, to only see a strange thing on one of the branches.

A grey-haired girl? Did the gods send me a servant...

“Hey, you there!” A meek voice shouts out. She pried her face slowly away from the branch she was hiding, revealing her tear-stained and snotty face.

Woah she’s pretty 

“Help me down from here!”

Uhm rude, no hi?

“Excuse me, is this how you’re supposed to talk to your master, why should I be assisting you?”

“What nonsense are you yapping about? Help me down, now!” The pretty girl wailed as the other stands below her with her hands on her hips.

“I’ll help you down, when you stop being such a wuss”

The pretty girl looks at YN like she’s crazy “You don't get it, there was t-the bug! It was so ugly and scary!”

“Who are you to insult the creations of mother nature!” YN stares up the the sky once more.

If this is who you send to be my assistant, just so you know, she is literally a bug hater, how can anyone hate nature. Speaking of which, my leg feels kinda itchy—

Just as she’s about to walk away to ask someone for help, a big, disgusting, scary looking bug starts crawling on her sandals.

It takes a moment for her to register this life-or-death situation before she is letting out the most blood curdling scream.

Somehow YN, who is known for being a lazy pig, managed to climb her way up the tree.

So lets get this straight, the girl just climbled ontop of a tree, and her sandals are no where to be found.

YN looks over to her side to see the person she’s been clutching on the whole time, the pretty girl.

Well, this couldn't be so bad…..Why was she shimmying her hands away? 

“Uhm…hey your slipping away”

“Hmmph!”

With her hand still clutched to the girl she couldnt help but find somewhat peace in the oddity of the situation before the pretty girl shurgs off her clutched hands, her lifeline was letting her slip away.

“Hey! Why’d you let my arm go!”

“You were totally gonna leave me here!”

“Was not!”

“You were gonna walk away!”

“Because I can't reach to the tree and help, duh”

“Oh….”

A small moment of silence later, YN tried to grab hold of the ridiculously soft hands of said pretty girls hands for it to be shugged away once more “Hey what gives!”

“You called me a wuss….”

Darn my honest and truthful mouth! Not my fault that I cant tell a lie!

“I— Well uh….Sorry” YN hears the other girl whisper something under her breath “What was that?”

“...Say that your a wuss”

“What?! Why would I admit to a lie?”

“You got scarred of the bug too, say your a wuss!”

Even if he had a point, YN refused to back down “Not gonna”

“Fine then” The pretty girl ‘Hmphs’ for a final time, before places her hands to side of the branch, almost like she was setting a bait for a rat. How pretty did this skank think she was, sure she her grey hair was pretty unique but who cares? Not her—

Darn it i’m no better than a rat with swiss cheese.

“I’m…”

Was this worth it? To throw away her dignity just to hold a pretty girls hand on a tree?

“A wuss” YN groans into the palms of her hands, defeat was the worse.

Suddenly the strong summer winds blow against the tree causing it to shake violently, YN and the pretty girl let out a scarred shriek.

Once the winds calm down, YN feels the blocks of frustration building up in her chest.

This was so stupid, all she wanted to do was go home, chill, but noooo mom wanted her to go out for some fresh air. STUPID FRESH AIR—

YN feels like her arms suddenly feel colder than usual, stickier, and burning? She was somehow freezing and also wamn?

She let herself peek through her messy overgrowned bangs that her mom carelessly cut.

It was the pretty girl, holding her arm securely in her own.

Was holding hands always this electrifying?

Woah, was this the fresh air mom talked about?

She was like a prince.

But a million times better.

“Woah, that was pretty scary you okay—”

“Be my wife!”

“W-what?”

“I declare us as married! What say you?”

“I’m a little lost—”

“Great we’re married!”

“I don't think thats how marriage works” Pretty girl grips on her hand a little tighther “My name's kou—”

“But i’m not—  Eh, why not” Pretty girl repositions both their hands so they can sit comfortably on the branch. "Don't people become friends first before marriage?"

“Friendship is for loser lamo wannabes that breakoff anytime. Marriage is a lifelong thing. How else are we going to be together forever?”

“Are you kids stuck up there!” 

A lucky adult who was walking his dog somehow managed to notice the two kids on the tree and got them down safely.

Though it was kinda hard to get them both down, not because the tree was too tall— but because they kept holding each other, too caught up in whatever weird thing they had going on.

Pretty girls dad came rushing to his daughter after a while, seemingly searching for her for quite some time (close to calling the police also).

Pretty girls dad offered to call YN’s mother who was also close to calling the cops for her missing child, but why would she? It’s only been ten minutes since she’s left the house—

Oh the sun is setting, how long have i been out for?

Unknown to herself, YN has actually been out for a record breaking three hours.

Woah, three hours on a tree. She's sure the last time she'd been out of the house that long was probably her birth (she dosent count grocery shopping)

Pretty girl smiled sheepishly as the two worried parentsexchanged worried woes about their two kids as the two kids continue their shy looks at each other, hands still interlocked with each other.

“So, I guess i’ll get going now. Dad said my mom made my favourite today, spicy mapo tofu….”

Pretty girl is still talking, she wants to listen to her, but YN feels something unfunny bubbling in her.

Balls i’m going to cry.

She doesn't know why the idea of just letting go of her hands hurts so much, stupid emo ass emotions.

YN can’t help herself to stare into their interlocked hands, taking mental pictures of the tiny moles on her hand as if it’ll be the last time she sees it (Even if it is) 

YN mindless breakdown is cut short when she feels her hand being whisked away into the sweaty-coldish palms in her own, forcing her to look up.

“Why do you look so sad?” She can’t take her eyes off pretty girl’s own, it was like she was holding her hostage.

Starring into her eyes, it felt like she was incapable to lie to her captor “Because your going to let go of my hand…” and me.

It felt like the end of the world for this seven year old.

But pretty girl didnt seem phased one bit, maybe she didn't feel the same impending doom YN felt.

“Thats true, but I don't think i’ll ever really let go in a sense right?”

“Your talking a bunch of baloney” YN can’t help feel hopeless, her kou-chan was going to go away and she wasnt as sad as her, it must mean she didnt care—

Just like that, she interlocks her pinky on YN’s ring finger “I’m your wife after all”

Oh.

My tummy feels funny.

YN stands there, she’s been slain by the prettiest girl and what makes things worse is that she’s not even mad. It was like an all consuming fire that danced around her, its multicoloured flames cutting through her skin like a saturday afternoon that she wished never ended.

Even when the two girls parted in opposite ways, pretty girl looked back once to give a wave goodbye, YN couldnt help to look back another time.

“I didn't catch their names, sorry sweety, we could run back over to them. I don't think they're that far—”

YN shakes her head “Nah its okay mom, we’ll find each other for sure!”

“Without a cellphone? Not likely. How are you so sure hon? You're not even sure of what hobby you like half of the time...”

YN stares at her ring finger, a silent, yet loud promise echoing in her head.

 “I’m your wife after all”

“Mom, i think i might need to use bathroom my tummy feels funny again”

“We’re almost home sweety— oh! YN HONEY HOLD IT IN UHM…Sir! Sorry my kid’s gonna crap themselves, could we use you restroom? Don't worry sweety, i’ll carry you there!”

Fortunately YN made it to the toilet in time, but one thing is for sure.

Regardless if it was the war she was about to face on the toilet bowl, that special feeling pretty girl gave her, it will be one she’d never forget.

Kou-chan— whatever her name was, would find her again. Maybe they'd forget each other, it didnt matter. She'd reconigse the burn, the magnetic spell the pretty girl somehow casted on YN at Miyagi park anytime.

[breaniebree]

SNEAK PEEK!

Chapter 29 -- The One With the Beginning

Ginny knew that planning a wedding was going to be a lot and she also knew that being the only daughter was going to make Molly go a bit overboard with everything.  It had been one week since she and Harry had announced their engagement to their friends and families and Molly and Zee were already working together to put ideas forward on the how, when, why, what, and where of the Weasley/Potter wedding.

Molly had calmed down somewhat after the announcement and Ginny had been pleased when they’d gone home and all her mother had said was that they would chat later about ideas.  What she hadn’t expected was to be halfway to orgasm the very next morning, Harry’s tongue doing delicious things to her, only to be interrupted by a loud knock on their bedroom door.

“Ginny, dear?  Are you awake?  I brought the wedding scrapbook I made.”

Harry groaned into her thigh.  “It’s half past six, Gin.”

“Ginny?  Dear, are you awake?”

“I’ll be right down, Mum!”  Ginny called out, burying her face in her hands.  “Harry, it’s barely been twelve hours since we told her.  She’s going to drive me to drink.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen,” Molly called out.  “I’ll make you both breakfast.”

They heard her move away from the door and Harry kissed her thigh.

“She’s excited.  She wants to plan things.”

“It’s our wedding.”

“Yes, and we’ll have final say,” he assured her.  Then he ducked his head down and used his tongue again.

“Mmm, better be quick down there before she comes looking for us again,” Ginny warned.

His tongue circled her clit, flicking and twirling as his fingers joined in and she moaned.  She could feel it building, the pleasure coiling inside of her.  She was close enough to taste it and she reached down to grip Harry’s hair tighter, urging him forward just as Molly’s voice came through the door again.

“Ginny!”

“Bloody hell!”  Ginny groaned, shoving Harry away.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.  “You were close, I could feel it.”

“Breakfast is ready,” Molly called through the door.  “Are you coming?”

“Not anymore,” she grumbled making Harry laugh.

“We’ll be right down, Molly,” Harry called out. 

They heard her disappear again and Ginny rolled over, letting out a small scream into the pillow.  Harry kissed his way up her spine.

“I’ll make it up to you later.  Come on, we better get downstairs before she sends out a search party.”

A moment later, Harry was in the shower and Ginny had reluctantly pulled on an old worn pair of cotton shorts and one of Harry’s tee shirts before heading downstairs.  She found Molly sitting at the kitchen table with three plates of breakfast out and a huge scrapbook wrapped in white lace.

“Good morning, Ginny!”

Ginny gave her mum a small smile, kissing her cheek before she sat down.  “Morning, Mum.  This was nice of you.”

“Oh, it was nothing,” Molly said, waving her off.  “I wanted to catch you early.”

Ginny let out a slow breath.  “Mum, I love how excited you are.  Truly.  I’m excited too, but you really can’t just pop by at barely half past six.  I don’t live at home anymore, Mum.  I live here with Harry.  Harry and I are working out a routine.  We like to get up and have a run in the morning.  It’s not that I don’t appreciate the breakfast, but as I said we’re getting into our own routine and a huge full breakfast isn’t part of that and… Mum, you can’t just show up bright and early,” she finished lamely.

Molly’s brown eyes widened.  “Oh!  Of course, I didn’t even…  I won’t pop by so early next time.  I just… I’m sorry, dear, I’m just so excited!  I barely slept a wink after you lot left last night.  I have so many ideas!  I know that you’re not living at home anymore and I have to respect that.  Things are different.  I promise not to impose on you and Harry like this so early next time.”

“All right,” Ginny agreed.  “That would be appreciated and maybe you know, ask first.”

Molly chuckled.  “I’ll try, but that’s not the Weasley way, is it?”

Ginny shrugged.  No, it definitely wasn’t.  “Well, maybe not, but Harry and I would like some privacy.  You um… interrupted.”

“Oh!”  Molly exclaimed, her cheeks heating.  “I didn’t even think about that.  Merlin, Ginny!  You two snuck off last night to have sex during our family dinner and now you’re telling me that you were still at it this morning?”

“We’re engaged and we’re celebrating,” Ginny said, her lips twitching.  “And someone interrupted us this morning.”

Molly shook her head before her eyes twinkled.  “Yes, you’re engaged.  My baby girl is going to marry the man of her dreams.”  She tapped her hand on the large lace scrapbook.  “Does that mean we can chat about the wedding now?”

Ginny sighed.  “I’m going to regret saying yes, aren’t I?”

Molly waved her off and opened a small planner that she had stacked on top before pulling out a pair or reading glasses from her purse.  

“All right, so if we’re looking at July of 2000, we definitely want to do a weekend.  Obviously Harry’s birthday is out, but what about the first week of July?”

“Mum, if we make it to the finals next year, I could be playing Quidditch up to the first week of July depending how the matches fall.”

Molly pursed her lips.  “Well, that just won’t do.  We can’t have you jumping off of your broom and getting married the next day, you’ll need time to decompress and get the last minute things organized.  When do you start up again?”

“August twenty-first for training.”

Molly nodded, examining the calendar.  “So July twenty-third is a week before Harry’s birthday, almost three weeks before yours which would give you four weeks between marrying Harry and returning to Quidditch giving you time for a honeymoon as well.  Do you know where you’d like to go?  Paris would be lovely.  Or have you thought about some warm island?  You could go back to Antigua or go to Greece?  Maybe Rome?”

“Mum, let’s figure out the wedding first,” Ginny said, eating her bacon.  “The twenty-third sounds great.”

Molly beamed.  “All right.  The twenty-third of July, two thousand, the day my baby marries Harry Potter,” she exclaimed, tears glistening in her eyes.  “All right, I’ve written it down.  Godric, you’re going to be a beautiful bride.  Now, onto the venue.  I do think having it here at Clevedon Court is the best option unless you want to find an outside source somewhere but that makes privacy from reporters a bit harder to hold into play.  You’ll need a large venue as once we invite family and friends and plus ones, why just your cousins alone are going to be a big gathering and you and Harry are both becoming rather famous in your own right.  We’re probably looking at a few hundred people.”

“A few hundred?”  Ginny gasped.  “Who are we inviting?  All of Wizarding Britain?”

Molly scoffed.  “Well, your grandparents, aunts, uncles, cousins, husbands and wives or plus ones, then children.  You have your brothers and nieces and your friends, your teammates, then we’ll have Harry’s family and Zee’s side is a bit large, isn’t it?  That’s not including Harry’s friends and colleagues.”

Listening to her mother list them off, she realized Molly was right.  There was definitely no way that this was going to be small wedding, not unless they eloped.

“Then you’ll need to think of how many bridesmaids you want and Harry will have to coordinate with groomsmen as we can’t have an uneven number.  Plus you’ll want a flower girl and a ring-bearer.  And of course we’ll have to find someone respectable to perform the ceremony.  The minister who did for Bill and Fleur was an old friend of the Delacour family.”

Ginny’s eyes were wide when Harry came into the kitchen.  She watched him peck her mum’s cheek and thank her for breakfast before he sat next to her in his full Auror uniform.  She grabbed his hand and mouthed, “save me.”

Harry chuckled as he dug into his breakfast.  “So, how’s the planning going so far?”

By the time they finished breakfast, Ginny was already feeling overwhelmed.  Harry stood up to leave for work and Ginny grabbed his arm.

“You can’t leave me!”  she hissed.

He grinned and kissed her.  “You’ll be fine, Gin.”

“You don’t know that.  I could have you wearing something atrocious by the time you come home and we could be getting married by a troll.”

“Don’t care,” he said against her lips.  “As long as you say ‘I do,’ I’ll be there.  Love you.  See you tonight.”

She watched him leave, softening at his words, but still feeling a bit of betrayal from him for doing so.  She turned back to her mum with a sigh and thought it was going to be a long day.

[dreamerfms]

❀ you’re not from around here , are you? i figured because you totally just missed { DULCE MEDINA } walking by. don’t tell me you don’t know who { SHE/HER } is ? they kind of look like { SOFIA C.ARSON } and i could be wrong but i think that they might be { THIRTY } years old right now. they’ve been living in palmview for the last { TWO YEARS }. and i don’t know if anyone has ever told them this before but they kind of remind me of { SPENCER HASTINGS } from { PRETTY LITTLE LIARS }. if you stick around the town long enough you might catch them in action working at { SEAGLASS HOSPITAL } as a { CLINICAL PSYCHOLOGY INTERN }. you see this town isn’t really that big of a place, some folks like to call them the { TROUBLED OVERACHIEVER } of palmview! they took a liking to the name too after a while, go figure. oh crap, they must have heard me yapping. they’re coming this way. i got to warn you though, rumor has it they can pretty { SECRETIVE } at times. i wouldn’t take it too seriously though, from the times i’ve spoken to them they seemed pretty { AMBITIOUS } to me. we see each other all the time since they live in that { TWO } apartment beside me over in { SEAGLASS HEIGHTS }.

basics

name: dulce maria medina. age: thirty. hometown: west london, england ( chelsea. ) birthdate: december 25th, 1994. zodiac: capricorn. gender:  cis female pronouns: she/hers sexuality: bisexual. relationship status: single. parents: antonio medina, maria pena. step-mother: isabella medina. siblings: one step-sister, one step-brother. occupation: clinical psychology intern ( final year. )

about

trigger warnings include : adultery & addiction issues.

from the moment she could understand, dulce was made aware that in her family, being the best was the only option. a long line of success came before her, and she was expected to carry that legacy on. it was easy to throw herself into studies and hobbies as a child, considering the fact she had nothing better to do at home. her parents were always too busy, too focused on their careers to sit down for longer than the time it took them to eat a meal. and even then, there were only questions about achievements, none about personal feelings. things would continue on this way until she was twelve. that was the year her parents split, and not long after they did, her father moved to florida for an exciting job opportunity. dulce would remain in london with her mother, visiting the town of plamview every summer up until college, and once or twice after that for a few short weeks. the split, however, did nothing to bring her closer to her parents. her mother thrived on being single again, spent her divorce settlement on lavish parties and trips around the world. and her father ? well, he had a new family now. a wife and two step-children, which also meant two people for him to compare her to, pit against. even when she outshone, it seemed his praise always went to them instead. this caused friction, and saw dulce acting out in ways she never thought she would. including sleeping with her new sisters boyfriend the whole summer long just before she left for college. while some saw it as revenge for how her step-sister treated her, there were truly feelings involved. but the revenge did taste sweet. college begins, and it's a long road ahead. at first, everything felt within her control. but soon the pressure to juggle academics, a social life, and her own expectations, became too much, and she found herself turning to pills for help. one adderall here and there quickly turned into a crutch. it took a breaking point and almost losing all that she'd worked for to bring around change. no longer feeling like she had the control she needs, she managed to face up to her problems with the help of her professor and get some help. but recovery is never clean cut. there are moments of doubt, strong feelings of inadequacy, and the call of old habits creeping in. on particularly stressful days, when the pressure is almost too much to bear, she catches herself thinking about the relief that the pills once gave her. but for now, at least, she's holding on.

wanted connections

her step-sisters ex that she had an fling with ( 29-31 ) — she most definitely fucked up his life in a big way, but there is no denying that what they felt was real ( even though they might try. ) tension still lingers, and some might even say there's a world of unfinished business. her step-siblings — often pitted against each other in their younger years, and there is a lot of things that may be irreparable, but perhaps now that they're older, they can give it a good old-fashioned try ( until she ruins lives again xox ) her best friend — they're not afraid to tell each other exactly how it is, but will defend one another to the death when it comes to anyone else. the only one to know all of her secrets. small circle — they're close, but there always feels like there's secrets untold between them. either way, they sure have a good time. fwb — or maybe they're not even friends at all. sometimes when you're trying to avoid slipping back into old habits, you find new ones. potential for them to have feelings, and maybe she does too, but she's trying her best to remain as emotionally distant as possible. an ex — someone she was with just before her addiction took over. it was real, felt like it had ever potential to go the distance, but in typical dulce fashion she decided to push them away and deal with the problem alone, when the easier thing to do would be let them in.

[gryfflepuffinthetardis]

Prologue Part Two: May 1-3, 2005— Zoe’s First Case: The Boston Poisoner

Season One Masterlist

Previous Post in Series: Prologue Part One

Next Post in Series: Extreme Aggressor

Summary: It’s Zoe’s first case with the BAU, going to Boston which she hates more than any other place, stopping a serial poisoner and Zoe shows hints of having a constant darkness looming around her.

Warning: Mentions of Suicide; Blood; Pain; Slight insight in the thinking of a suicidal person; Possibly incorrect pharmacology; Hints at past trauma; Hint at a stalker; Description of COPD; Slight unethical behavior; Possible slight inconsistency at some point I think

"There is nothing more dangerous than a smart woman who is focused and unimpressed."

"Boston's got a serial poisoner." JJ said, Zoe refrained from making a face, she hated Boston more than any other city in the world. She had a guttural instinct to get the hell away from Boston—despite her going to Harvard—thinking about Boston made her want to vomit and she knew why but… it was complicated. Alexander could’ve lost his job if she told and she had no wish to revisit that particular area of Boston sooner than necessary and one day it would be necessary. "There have been twelve bodies in the past six months."

"Twelve bodies? Why is this the first we're hearing about it?" Spencer asked.

"Because up until the last victim they were deemed suicides. The last victim was found with defense wounds before he punched the floorboards until his hands were bloodied and he died." JJ explained.

"Why'd he bloody his hands?" Morgan asked.

"They don't know but he had the same poison that the last eleven victims had so they've deemed all of them as possible murders."

"When do we leave?" Alexander said.

"Wheels up in thirty. Alexander, you help Valdez with her go bag." Hotch said and they all left the father and daughter.

"I know what goes in a go bag, Dad." Zoe said. "This was like a second home to me."

“Zoe. Make sure—” He started to list to his daughter who listened anyways. “Several packs of clothes, your medicine, your guns, your self-defense tools, your stimulation toys, your inhaler…”

“Dad, I don’t need an inhaler.” She sighed, irritatedly.

“You had cardiac asthma. It relieves the acute symptoms!” He said, loudly, speaking over her irritation.

“Dad, I’m a medical doctor. I have an MD attached to my name. I know what an inhaler does to cardiac asthma and it’s not very effective against fluid buildup in the left side of my Frankenstein heart.” Alexander went to protest against this description of her heart but she continued to speak. “And I only had it when I was a baby and toddler. I haven’t needed it in thirteen years. My heart got stronger as I grew.”

“And remember to also bring your notes, bring some of your mum’s books…”

“Dad, please. I’ve been on the jet more times than I stepped into my high school homeroom, and it’s better than when it was road trips.”

She faltered, images flashing back of being in the car with… with Zarah.

“Dad, I’m fine. Go. And don’t tell anyone!” She hissed.

She kept her body language ambiguous, she could feel other members looking at her. Ten minutes in and she had already had an argument with the only co-founder currently not on medical leave, granted Alexander tended to argue with people. It was no secret that he wasn’t as mentally stable as most of the other FBI agents. Alexander had been considered for the Unit Chief when Gideon went on medical leave by the section chief, a haughty, arrogant, and rather unpleasant lady named Erin Strauss who Zoe despised deeply since the Amerithrax case in 2001 when Strauss blamed Alexander Noble, Alex Blake, and some other agent when the wrong suspect was arrested in order to save her career. There had been a huge trial and Zoe, barley two months from escaping an eight-month torture she largely couldn’t remember had to fly from Harvard back to Quantico to vouch for her father some weeks after the ordeal.

The only reason this hadn’t hurt Alexander’s career was the fact that since February of that year, both his children had gone missing and only one showed back up, clearly traumatized from the experience and not the same. Zoe had always been stoic and violent but after she came back, she rarely showed signs of her other personality traits. She had gotten better but now it was happening again with her recent trauma again.

Alex Blake hadn’t been so lucky, she and the other agent had been demoted, their reputation damaged while Strauss’ remained “clean”.

Alexander wasn’t deemed mentally suited for the job. Strauss claimed it had nothing to do with his bipolar disorder even though no one had said anything about that until she brought it up but it was also due to the fact that the BAU was aware that Zoe intended to join and she had helped before as a child. So if that came true, that would be a conflict of interest as anything remotely concerning his daughters, always was.

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe stepped onto the jet, fifteen minutes later, she hadn’t stepped onto this plane since she was found four years ago. Her memory flickered back to the car rides. While the car rides had been longer than the very fast jet, they had been wonderful family moments. Zarah would be reading the books Zelena had left behind while Zoe sometimes would stick her head out of the top of the car so she could feel like she was flying.

“Trouble flying?” Asked a voice and she turned to see Spencer Reid, smiling politely at her.

“No. Just remembering something.” She shook her head and got on board.

——————————————————————————————————

"What I don't understand is why he kept punching the floorboards if the poison was only mildly painful." Morgan said as Zoe stared at the picture of the dead boy with bloodied hands, he was around fifteen or sixteen with red hair.

"Maybe so it would look less like a suicide." Zoe suggested, softly.

"What was that?" Hotch asked her.

All the attention was on Zoe now.

Zoe sat up and explained her theory. "Maybe he was trying to make it look less like a suicide as possible. Maybe he realized that the other eleven weren't suicides either and knew unless he proved otherwise his death would be considered a suicide as well so he went all out. People never listen to words until dramatic actions are taken, then they ask why no one said anything. That's the mindset of most suicidal people. So he had to take dramatic action to prove this wasn't a suicide. He fought his killer, giving himself defensive wounds and then bloodied his fists to prove that he wasn't trying to commit suicide."

"How would you prove it?"

"The poison is relatively painless. At most, it feels like an overdose."

"How do you know that?" Morgan asked.

"I have a degree in toxicology." Zoe said, like it was no big deal, "You would take this if you wanted a relatively painless death, so why put yourself through the pain of punching the floor until your fists split open and the last bit of life drained from you? It's true. People don't listen unless dramatic actions are taken; only then do people start asking questions. Some people don’t listen when suicidal people try to explain things to them but they still ask why they didn’t say something when they were alive. Only in this case, it's to explain why it's not suicide." 

——————————————————————————————————

The Boston police department was familiar with Hotch and Alexander from a case in the late nineties; Zoe, to avoid being recognized had held back.

“You okay?” Spencer asked, noticing Zoe staring at a Wanted poster for the aforementioned serial killer.

“Yeah.” She lied, “Just not a fan of Boston.”

Understatement of the year.

“They never caught him, you know. You know, according to his biography, the reason he stopped killing was because he was either dead or in prison for an unrelated charge” Spencer rambled.

“That’s bullshit.” Zoe said, sharply shook her head.

“What?”

“He’s not dead and he’s not in prison.” She shook her head, still staring at the poster with what Spencer deduced was almost personal distaste, “He’s too methodical for that.” 

“Then why’d he stop killing if he’s not dead?” Spencer asked.

“Maybe someone made a deal with the devil.” She said, darkly.

Spencer was about to ask what she meant when Hotch called them over.

“Valdez. Reid…”

“Please, Zoe.” She said.

“Zoe, you have a degree in toxicology and pharmacology, you check the coroner's reports, Reid, you go with her.” Hotch said and Alexander looked like he wanted to protest but withheld himself from doing so.

——————————————————————————————————

"Are you okay?" Spencer asked Zoe during the cab ride. She looked at him from her six-minute stare out the window. "I know I don't really know you and something tells me you're..." He changed his wording, "Something tells me that that's not going to change soon and not because Garcia tried to snoop in your file and couldn't find anything."

"I'm fine, Reid." She said, "Just... the last time I was in Boston... wasn't exactly a positive experience."

"When was this?" Spencer asked.

"Oh, about eight weeks during January and February in 1998."

"This didn't by any chance happen to be during..."

"Oh, about." Zoe cut him off.

"Yeah, how old were you then?"

"Twelve." She said.

She considered telling him what else happened but due to circumstances she held back. She would surely be questioned about what she saw and why she never said anything. It was too risky, it’d get her dad in trouble and could get people killed.

——————————————————————————————————

The coroner showed them the body of the last victim.

"Richie Rousseau, age seventeen. Shame. Kid had four-point-zero GPA, full-ride scholarship to Harvard. He had an IQ of 165."

"Impressive." Zoe said, "did you determine what drugs were in his system?"

"Toxicology report should be back within the hour."

Zoe examined the broken fists of the dead teenager with a gentle and professional touch. "Wow. He shattered his bones. His bone must've fractured at least a full minute before he died. He kept on punching. And I thought I was persistent.”

"Could he have been hallucinating?" Spencer asked.

"They emailed me the toxicology report but the network is down. We're waiting for the computer specialist."

"Well, I have a degree in computer science, I could take a look.”

"No need. He's here." The coroner said, waving the specialist in which neither young genius paid much attention to.

"You have a toxicology degree, a pharmacology degree, and a computer science degree along with the degrees needed to become a profiler?" Spencer asked.

"Yeah, I have twenty-four degrees." She said as if this were perfectly normal.

The former twelve-year-old high school graduate's jaw dropped. "No way. You're only nineteen years, six months, and one day old."

Zoe quirked an eyebrow at him.

"I, uh, I... I time things. I didn't mean for that to come off as creepy but Garcia did send me a few things about you like that your birthday is on Halloween. My birthday's that month too. The twelfth. How do you have so many, by the way?" Spencer rambled, awkwardly.

Zoe just smiled at him, finding his quirk of rambling rather endearing, she was always happy to meet another social outcast or at least someone who felt like one.

"I, uh, I started college classes when I was five. A… the daughter of a family friend helped." She shrugged. "I'm a bit of a genius, in everything except math really."

"You don't like math?" Spencer said as if he couldn't understand that. Statistics were his life.

"I despise math, but I was apparently qualified to be a genius in most types of intelligence." She said, rolling her eyes, she would rather be tortured than do math.

"Did you ever take an IQ test?" Spencer asked, he wouldn't be surprised if she was as smart as he was at the very least.

Zoe's eyes went past Spencer and to the specialist—a guy in his late thirties who looked familiar.

She walked past Spencer and to him, "Hi. I'm sorry but you look really familiar."

His eyes went to her and she resisted the urge to shiver. She didn’t know why but…

"Oh, I think we met once or twice, little one."

This time she did shiver as a voice that haunted her dreams came back to her. "Pequeño".

"I don't..." She started when she spotted a horrible scar peeking out from under his collar and it clicked. She refrained from having her body language change.

"You know, I think we have..." She looked at the nametag, "Kevin Baskin." 

"There you go, the network should be up and running." The man told the coroner and went to leave, giving Zoe a knowing smile that unnerved her. It wasn't one she'd expect from him, it had more confidence and arrogance to it, like how some people (usually feminists) metaphorize the big bad wolf's relationship towards Little Red Riding Hood. "Have a nice day, Zoe." He said in an undertone.

"How'd he know your..." Spencer started.

"Are these the tox reports? Do you have any for any of the other victims?" Zoe cut him off.

"The drugs were all the same." The coroner said, handing over the report.

Zoe raised her eyebrows at the paper, "Alright. Wow. That's a lot. Uh..."

Zoe fumbled with the pockets of her black leather duster coat and pulled out a small notebook and reached into her satchel, searching for something before pulling out a steel pen with a sort of handle before she started writing down all the drug names, ignoring the odd look from the coroner and the scrutinizing look from Spencer.

"Are you neurodivergent?" Spencer asked bluntly once they left.

Zoe looked at him with a deadpan look and asked, "Are you?"

——————————————————————————————————

"Did you determine what kind of drugs poisoned the victims?" Hotch asked once they returned and Zoe immediately flopped into an office chair with wheels.

"Yeah, but to my knowledge no drug has all these effects. There's Benzodiazepine which is in anxiety pills like Xanax which explains why only the last victim died in stress, I looked into Richie, the last victim's medical history, he had severe anxiety and insomnia and he may have built up a tolerance for it which is why he freaked out. There's both fluticasone and beclomethasone, both of which belong in the Corticosteroids class of drugs or more simply Inhaled Steroids, this mostly causes hoarseness of the voice and possibly even voice loss, making it a bit difficult to scream for help. Ketamine..." Everyone had noticed how she had started with a chain fidget thing.

Morgan looked at Spencer, still skeptical of Zoe who pursed his lips.

"Why does that sound familiar?" Morgan asked.

"Because it's a date rape drug. Most likely in this, it's used to weaken and/or disorientate the victims so they can't run off for help.” Zoe responded “And... cyanide."

"But then Richie wouldn't have time to bloody his fists like that."

"It's... it's a different kind of cyanide I've ever seen. It's slow-acting but painful. No single drug has these effects and there's only evidence of one pill being taken.”

"So the UnSub has been making their own drug out of other drugs." Hotch summed up.

"Yeah, basically..." Zoe said and she took the notebook from Spencer who was accidently reading the profile she wrote.

——————————————————————————————————

They had mapped out the locations the victims were last seen before being found dead and where they had gone missing but there was no apparent connection other than "random spots in Boston."

Zoe had been paired up with Hotch, Spencer, and Morgan. With Hotch, it was a time that could only be described as "deadpan". He often had to remind her to be professional due to her impulsiveness and natural instinct to rebel.

She conflicted the most with Morgan, who had trust issues with even those he’s worked with for years. Despite working with Alexander for six years, he only knew that Alexander had two grown up daughters and there was a situation with them four years ago, where they went missing but only one came back just a month or two before Morgan joined the BAU.

Morgan though he had to admit he liked her. She was observant, quirky, sarcastic, funny, and highly intelligent. She had a tendency for rebellion which he had to warn her against. They had similarities in their background too, what with being born the child of law enforcement, Zoe claiming that most of her family were law enforcement but she didn't specify which parent was in law enforcement and what kind of law enforcement or that most of the other half of her family were criminals. She too had a parent die when she was young, all she said was her mother had been murdered when shew as a baby. Little did they know, they had even more similarities in their childhood trauma-wise than they thought, both determined to never let the team ever know and pretend it never happened.

She got along the most with Spencer which was an unusual occurrence to both of them, due to their neurodivergence, socially awkward antisocial introvertedness, rather geeky interests like science or science fiction or even philosophy, and their high genius-level. Their personalities clashed at the same time, Spencer was shy and never spoke up when he was interrupted (which was a common occurrence), he was also quite modest with his intelligence, his showing off being more habitual and accidental than on purpose, he was obedient and followed the rules. He was often serious, seldomly making jokes, and quite kind to everyone, even those who were being rude to them.

Zoe, while being shy and having insecurities of her own, she masked it with sarcasm, smiles, jokes, and false apathy, she snarked when people interrupted her which was often since she was short, young, and a girl. Zoe often showed off her superior intelligence (occasionally after playing dumb) to embarrass those she felt deserved it but she was clearly also modest with it as she didn’t boast or show off about it for no reason, she seemed to be allergic to obedience and rebellion seemed to run through her veins but Spencer could see she was kind to those who were kind, she was empathetic, especially to those she could see were struggling or in pain or hiding something.

It became clear to Morgan and Spencer that had ADHD—hence her constant need to be doing something and difficulty at paying attention and focusing—and having Cyclothymia Bipolar which was essentially a mild version of Bipolar disorder.

Alexander walked into the evidence room where Zoe was putting copies of the profile into a box to transport them.

"What are you doing?" Alexander asked, handing his daughter a highly caffeinated hot chocolate with extra chocolate and her pill bottles for her ADHD, Cyclothymia, PTSD, anxiety, and depression.

"I thought we could visit Tom Shaunessy, you remember him?"

"Do I remember him? You're joking right?" Alexander asked his daughter, sarcastically.

"He retired in 2000 but you know, we're not Hotch." Zoe said.

——————————————————————————————————

The father/daughter duo knocked on Shaunessy's house door and a woman opened it.

"Hello, may I help you?"

"Hi, I'm an old colleague of Tom Shaunessy and I was wondering if we could use his help on this new case."

"What are your names?"

"I'm Special Agent Alexander Noble and this is Special Agent Doctor Zoe Valdez." 

"Oh, yes. He's mentioned you two a few times."

"How is Shaunessy?" Alexander asked as they were let inside.

Zoe heard a soft sound behind her and trained to always be on high alert, Zoe glanced behind her at a bush that was moving slightly. It could've just been the wind but she could swear she saw a dark mass moving behind the bush before it stilled.

Uneasily, she tore her eyes away and she went inside.

"His health started to worsened at the end of 1998, he had to retire in 2000, since then it's been steadily getting worse." Shaunessy's nurse explained.

"What is it?" Zoe asked.

"COPD."

COPD was short for Chronic obstructive pulmonary disease; it was a chronic inflammatory lung disease that obstructed airflow from the lungs.

People diagnosed with this may be able to live up to ten or even twenty years after the diagnosis, but that was only with mild COPD and if well managed. Zoe knew that Shaunessy had had a fit at work in 2000 which resulted in him collapsing and being rushed the the hospital and being diagnosed. She didn't think he would make it twenty years after diagnosis as much as she hoped so.

"Oh." Zoe said.

Alexander and Zoe entered his room to see Tom Shaunessy, an elderly man in around his late sixties to early seventies. The room was decorated with awards that had been presented to him—a Service award in 1996, newspaper clippings of his cases, and an Outstanding Service Award.

"Detective Tom." Zoe greeted.

"As I live and breathe, little Zoe." He smiled, his hand shook as he gripped his can. Zoe could feel his overly sympathetic look that made Zoe feel like a victim—she hated that feeling, she trained her whole life to not feel that feeling.

"I told you..." She deflected, "smoking kills. COPD's most common cause is cigarette smoking and the risk increases with the amount and duration of smoking. Passive smoking or breathing in secondhand smoke can also contribute."

"Still as smart as you were." Shaunessy said. “What are you two doing here?”

“There’s a poisoner in Boston.” Zoe said

They showed him the files and everything they figured out as they consulted the retired detective but eventually they had to leave, Zoe felt like something was just on the tip of her tongue but she couldn't figure out what it was, she was distracted in the car from her father's theorizing but an absent-minded recognition that she didn't fully process was that the taxi driver had been the same every time she took a cab.

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe looked over the files while she messed with an ADHD fidget hand massage ball.

She dropped her head on the table in frustrated laughter, "I had graduated from the best colleges in the world with Master degrees before I even started having my monthlies and wearing bras and I can't figure this out..." She picked her head up and slumped back in her seat. "I blame Boston. It's distracting me too much." Then she grabbed a chocolate from the L.A. Burdick Chocolates that Alexander had bought and Spencer and Zoe had eaten the majority off.

"What's wrong with Boston?" Spencer asked.

"Boston's shit!" Alexander said, walking past them.

Then her comment before that came back to her. Colleges.

She rifled through the files of the victims, the youngest victims from fourteen to eighteen, all had high GPAs, most had full-ride scholarships. The young adults from ages eighteen to early twenties went to the best schools. Zoe knew, she had graduated from the majority of them. The older ones had graduated from them too. 

"It's... it's about intelligence." She realized.

"What?" Spencer asked.

"Look. Richie had a full ride to Harvard," She rattled off the rest of the colleges of the other victim.

"The UnSub wants to be clever. Prove that he's cleverer than them."

"I'll run this by Hotch." Spencer said and went off to give a longer explanation of this to their Unit Chief.

She watered the chocolate down with her highly-caffeinated Mexican hot chocolate, letting the hot cinnamony beverage burn her mouth as she thought, the world melting around her as she got lost in her thoughts.

The killer likely interacted with all of the victims but it's likely the UnSub was someone no one would've noticed. They had found footage of them all getting into taxis but none where they were seen afterwards... the taxi driver... of course, no one pays attention to taxi drivers. Her phone beeped and she checked it to see a message.

Unknown Number: He said you'd be the one to figure it out. That you were smarter than everyone else. I'd like to meet face-to-face and see it for myself.

Her eyes darted about the station, no one was paying attention to her, so she stood up and walked to the window, moving the blinds with her fingers to see a taxi in front of the station.

She texted back: Who's he?

She got a call instead...

Her eyes flicked up to the rest of the police station and she answered. "Hello, taxi driver from hell?" She quipped.

"He said you were a snarker too."

"Who is he?" She repeated her text.

"You know who."

She clenched her jaw. "Yeah, so he's still alive? Not in prison or dead?" Her tone had a sardonic mocking bite to it.

"You know he's too good not to."

"I wouldn’t use the word ‘good’.” She growled. “What's to stop me from telling everyone here that you're the killer?"

"I can drive off, you can't see me, you don't know my taxi number and I'll kill more people. Maybe I'll sneak some poison into the coffee your team loves so much."

She turned looking at her team, fear mingling in her eyes.

"Don't you dare touch them." She growled.

"Then come out, little one."

Her nose scrunched up at the nickname and her eye twitched. He hung up and she looked at the team and she made a call to Quantico as she collected her things, casually, stoic even to a profiler.

"The All-Knowing Penelope here." Garcia quipped.

"Garcia, I need a favor but don't tell the others yet." She said as she picked up Spencer’s rather nineties-like phone. Her phone had protection, she was a talented hacker with secrets that she didn’t want people to know but Spencer wasn’t. His phone was easier to track.

"Why?"

"Because I'm about to be the killer's next victim. They can follow me, this is the only way he'll confess, if he’s bragging about his plan to his next victim to show how much smarter he is than me. I need you to tell them in a few minutes and to track Spencer’s phone which I just stole."

"What are you going to do? He'll kill you." Penelope panicked.

"No, he wants to be smart. He thinks I won't be able to figure out his trick. He thinks I want to prove I'm smarter. I just need to stall while he confesses." Zoe said, "If I fail... I'm going to send you a picture of either a license or an ID."

"Wait, Zoe..."

"Goodbye Garcia." Zoe said and hung up.

She started to leave, "Zoe, where are you going?" Alexander asked, concern for his daughter.

"Going out for a bit of air. I'll be fine." She lied, her tone steady as can be. That what happens when you’re the daughter to two of the young co-founder/profilers of the BAU and are raised by one of them and the others—Alexander Noble, Jason Gideon, David Rossi, and to a less extent, Max Ryan. (And David Rossi, practically being compulsively unable to take a break from the life, read criminal profiles to her instead of bedtime stories, and then she begged the others to do it—only Gideon refused). She was able to profile since she was a toddler and knew how to keep from people knowing she was lying.

She arrived outside and got into the taxi, seeing the man.

"Hello, Zoe."

"Serial Killer." She addressed in an almost pleasant greeting tone as she brought up the camera on her phone and took a silent, subtle picture of the taxi ID in the back, his name was Ian Keller. “So... it's obviously not a money thing since this cab smells like a urine factory." She sent the picture and the snarky comment to Garcia as he started to drive off.

"I'm not a serial killer. I never killed anyone. Those people killed themselves. I simply spoke to them."

"What's stopping me from texting the agents upstairs now or arresting you myself?" Zoe asked as she pressed the recording feature on her phone.

“I won’t run. I’ll sit quietly and they can arrest me.” But she had no evidence. Only circumstantial evidence. And while they dug into his past, someone else could get hurt. "I'll never tell you what I said to make those people kill themselves. You'll just be as stupid as everyone else. What do you really care about?" He asked.

He thought she was arrogant in her intelligence like him, but she wasn't. She knew knowledge was infinite and it was impossible to know everything. If she knew everything, where was the fun in that? She didn’t need to validate her knowledge. She didn’t feel threatened by Doctor Spencer Reid’s knowledge. Like him, she didn’t believe IQ tests could accurately quantify someone’s intelligence. She only showed her intelligence when needed and to tear someone down a peg. She didn’t like bullies, even if they don’t meant it; doesn’t mean their words don’t hurt others.

"But you're going to kill me like the others." She said.

"I didn't kill them. They killed themselves..."

"But you spoke to them. Blah. Blah. Blah. This isn't a TV show. Answer a question like a normal person!" She said with irritated sarcasm, "How'd you know the moment I figured it out."

"He likes you. You know that." Keller said, she speculated that was the only reason he wasn’t lashing out at her sass, she could tell he wanted to, but he was scared. "He's been watching you."

Zoe had moved the phone so the rustling covered his words and she pressed the pause button. "I noticed. I thought he wanted to stalk the other one." Zoe spat out bitterly in a dark undertone.

"Where's he gonna go? He was watching you and I've been following you." She pressed continue.

"Why me? I'm not the only genius on this case." She asked, ignoring the “he” as she had and would for years now.

"But you're the only one who can get into the mindset of a serial killer. He said you'd make a great one. That you’re his other half.”

Zoe’s eyes darted up to him, darkening. It had started to drizzle during their conversation and Zoe took the opportunity to wipe her phone and cover up his words.

“Are we going to stand here all day and talk like high school students or are you going to show me the cabbie’s impressive intelligence?”

The cab driver returned to the driver’s side of the car and opened the passenger’s door and got into the driver’s seat.

As Zoe circled the car, she took a picture of the license plate and sent it to Garcia before she got into the passenger’s seat.

She took a picture of the taxi driver’s ID too and sent it to Garcia.

The car ride was quiet, just full of him, mentioning "him" and Zoe had given up on pausing the recording, if she kept covering it up, it'd be suspicious.

Zoe, however noticed a photo on the dashboard. A worn photograph of two kids and presumably their mother but she was cut out. The kids were about mid-teens, mid to late middle school to early high school, but they'd be around Zoe's age by now based on Zoe's math.

His clothes were out of date and... ah, there is was. Those red dots on his skin. And he was sweating. Her eyes went to the spot in front of the gear shift where people often put things. There were tissues crumpled up and spots of red on them. Zoe leaned to the side and saw on the floor of the front of the car were even bloodier tissues. He was hiding the most obvious signs.

"Not much of a talker, huh?" He asked.

"I tlak when needed. I prefer to observe." She said.

Penelope called Morgan, "Talk to me, baby."

"She... Zoe made me promise not to tell you but she found out the murderer is an Ian Keller, a taxi driver and she got into his cab as it was the only way she could get an actual confession from him." Penelope explained emotionally.

"Zoe went with the killer!?" Morgan asked out loud.

Spencer looked back to see Zoe gone as Alexander grabbed the phone from Morgan and asked loudly, his only heart pounding so hard and quickly, it could be mistaken for two hearts, "What!? Where is she?"

"In the cab, she's recording the conversation, she took Spencer’s phone and I'm tracking his phone as we speak."

"What are we doing sitting in this shitty station! Crappy fluorescent lights and cockroaches and loud cell phones and the smell of urine!" Alexander was raging, his Scottish accent thickening.

This was not exactly out of character for him.

——————————————————————————————————

"Where the hell are we?" Zoe asked as if she were annoyed that they were lost and buddy-buddy, when Keller stopped the cab. It was full-on raining by now.

"A Boston education college." Was all Keller said before getting out, circling the cab and opening the door.

"As opposed to what? Boston baking college? Refrigerator college? Clown college?" Zoe deadpanned before lighting up in a sarcastic way just like her dad does, "I got it! Taxi college. Because you're clearly not great at your job, it felt like it took us an hour to get here while you droned on and on and on and on." She dramatically lulled her head side to side with every “on”

"We're going in." He said, shortly, clearly irritated with her.

"What? You late for class?" She snarked.

He pulled out a gun and pointed it at her, but she just looked at him, annoyed, rather than showing any sign of fear, not even a flicker. The only reaction she had to the gun pointed at her head was a half-eye roll and a soft exasperated sigh.

"As if you're the first to hold a gun to my head." She scoffed and got out, muttering, “It’s honestly starting to get boring…”

She followed him inside the empty college, glancing at a nearby security camera.

——————————————————————————————————

"I'm running facial recognition as we speak." Garcia said after Alexander had nearly shouted at her to hurry her eccentric butt up.

"Why would she just go with him?" Spencer wondered in the backseat between his frequent squeaks and squawks of fear at Alexander's dangerous driving.

"He probably offered her an ultimatum." Hotch said as he clung to the top of the seat belt.

"LOOK OUT FOR THAT PEDESTRIAN!" Spencer screamed.

"Oh, she's on the street. She knows the risk she's taking." Alexander said, dismissively.

——————————————————————————————————

"What do you think?" Keller asked as they entered a math classroom. Zoe's least favorite place to be.

"Umm...” Her tone was already dripping with sarcasm as she looked around as if she hadn’t already realized what kind of classroom it was and hated it as she did with most things associating with math—the most boring of all the shapes. “Well, I'm being held hostage by the most boring serial killer ever, who takes like an hour to finish a sentence and I'm in the math classroom, being forced to socialize with someone I don't know." Zoe deadpanned, "I can't think of a worse place to be." 

After what was actually a fifteen-minute car ride (Zoe’s ADHD and made it feel like an hour) of her making constant snarky, sassy, sarcastic, and sardonic comments, he should’ve expected a reply like this.

"Well, you're the one who's going to die here." He said, making another attempt to take control of the situation but Zoe rarely let people do that.

Zoe tilted her head at him, giving him a calculating look and said, "No, I'm not." She didn't sound cocky or arrogant, just calm as if stating a fact.

"That's what all the victims say."

Victims. She hated being thought of as a victim.

"That's what all the serial killers say." Zoe retorted as if sassing a bully. "So, is this where you bore me to suicide?"

Keller sat down. pressing his lips together and Zoe sat down across from him, sitting casually, if slightly disrespectfully.

"Bit risky, taking me away in front of the Boston police with the FBI?" Zoe asked.

"Nah. This is a risk." He placed a bottle with a pill capsule on the table.

Zoe looked at it for a mere few moments but didn't react in any way, her amber eyes darted back to Keller with no sign of fear in her eyes. Her expression was utterly impossible for him to decipher.

"Ooh, I like this bit. ‘Cause you don’t get it yet, do you?" Perhaps he was trying to convince himself of that.

I have an inkling and by that I'm pretty sure I know your whole—or at least most of—your plan.

"But you’re about to. I just have to do this." He put down another bottle, completely identical to the other.

Zoe still didn't react. In fact, she barely even looked at the second bottle.

"Weren't expecting that, were you?"

"No. That's exactly what I was expecting." Zoe deadpanned.

Keller's eye twitched as he realized Zoe was telling the truth.

"You're a proper genius, aren't you?" Zoe said, her voice dripping with patronizing sarcasm.

"Don't look it, do I?" Keller asked, "Driving a taxi. But you'll understand in a minute.

"I think I understand plenty but clearly it's desperately important for you to think you're the smartest person in the room." She said in deadpan honesty.

"Chances are it'll be the last thing you'll ever know."

"Explain your little game, taxi man, and we'll see what the chances are." She challenged.

"There’s a good bottle and a bad bottle. You take the pill from the good bottle, you live; take the pill from the bad bottle, you die." Keller explained to a still rather unimpressed Zoe.

"Both bottles are of course identical.”

"In every way." Keller confirmed.

Oh? What interesting phrasing.

"And you know which is which." 

"Course I know."

"But you think I don’t."

"Wouldn’t be a game if you knew. You’re the one who chooses."

"Why?"

"Because I'll kill you."

She leaned forwards, placing her folded elbows on the table, still showing no fear as she spoke with a dark undertone, “You think I fear death? I've accepted the inevitability of death a long time ago. I'm accustomed to accepting my death." 

"I haven’t told you the best bit yet. Whatever bottle you choose, I take the pill from the other one—and then, together, we take our medicine." He said and then placed a water bottle on the table, she look just a moment longer to examine this seemingly ordinary bottle of water—ordinary to any ordinary person but she was not an ordinary person. This water bottle had been open before and sipped from.

"Who said I wanted you to die? Trust me, you deserve it more than any of your victims, you're a by-proxy serial killer. I reckon your victims suffered the effects for about an hour before a slow and painful death."

"It's this or the gun. I won’t cheat. It’s your choice. I’ll take whatever pill you don’t." Liar! "You didn't expect that, did you, Miss Zoe?"

"Yeah, I did actually," She said and she leaned forth, "And it's Doctor Zoe Valdez, to you mister taxi cab man." She leaned back in her chair. "Is this it? This is your master plan? I'm so overwhelmed... at how underwhelming this plan is."

"You think it's just chance?" Keller asked.

"No, I think you cheat. Now I try to use as little math as possible because it hurts my head and I find it numbingly boring. Thirteen bodies from a fifty-fifty chance. It's not probable. There's something you're not telling me here. Something you didn’t tell any of the victims.” She reasoned.

"You tell me. You're the genius. He told me that your IQ is estimated to be in or near the two-hundreds."

Zoe licked her lips, a glint of hatred and resentment flickering in her amber eyes, simultaneously.

"Let's put that to the test, I'm going to profile you." She challenged.

"That's not the game."

"My turn, my game!" She snapped in a tone of slight childish pettiness but still dark sternness.

"Profiling's just intellectual guesswork." He stated.

"Oh, you think so?" Zoe asked with a mocking questioning lilt in her voice as she smirked, loving to prove people wrong and she was born into this lifestyle. "You have kids, I saw a picture of them with the mother cut out, if she were dead, she'd be there, so she got custody, the photo was old, I'd say about five years. And it hurts, not being able to see your kids. Neither wants contact with you. Why should they? You always indicated you were smarter than them; you pushed them and made them feel less than when they didn’t do as well as you thought they should. You're wearing that stupid cabbie hat so clearly you're not in the habit of being around other people. Your other clothes are just as stupid. Your skin is pale and you have petechiae—those tiny red dots on your skin—that only appears when capillaries bleed, leaking blood into the skin. You're sweating despite it being raining, night, and spring, you have some bruising and it's fair to assume that you get out much and you drive a taxi, therefore most likely your skin is sensitive to bruising, I saw bloody tissues in the taxi, they're always there, so nosebleeds and possibly you’re coughing up blood. Your cervical lymph nodes are swollen, and your liver is visibly enlarged. Leukemia. Cancer of the blood. How long do you got? You're in your older years of middle-aged, I'd say sixty and given by the state of you, I'd say you have less than a year?” She changed her mind, shaking her head only half a shake, “No, less than half a year."

"Four and a half months."

"Oh, dearie. And you get off on the fact that you've outlived the people you killed. Not only that but most of them have all either been quite youthful men and women or middle-aged women, so given that your kids don't want to see you, not even now that you're dying. You resent them but you don't want to hurt them. They're intelligent, really intelligent like you, despite the constant criticism you called parenting, so you kill young geniuses. But why, a cabbie? You could be a college administrator? A scientist. But why a cabbie?" She tilted her head, sorting through the possibilities in her head, crossing out the ones that didn’t hit at rapid speed, “You couldn't afford college growing up, did you? Then your wife made you drop out when she was pregnant, didn't she? You've always resented her for that and now you're going to die without having done anything with your life so that resentment has turned into an all-raging hatred—loathing, so you're killing surrogates of your children and your wife.” A small pause. “Do you still think profiling is just intellectual guesswork?"

Instead of admitting he was wrong, he nodded at the bottles, "Time to choose."

She didn't even look at them, just continued to look at him.

"What if I don’t choose either? I could just walk out of here." Zoe said, "They might have realized I'm missing by now."

Her father definitely knew and was most likely freaking out. He was such a drama queen.

Keller just sighed and raised the gun to her head, but she still didn't seem impressed or even fearful.

"You can take your fifty-fifty chance, or I can shoot you in the head. Funnily enough, no one’s ever gone for that option." 

Zoe’s lips curled into a smirk. "I’ll have the gun, please." 

——————————————————————————————————

"What is she doing!?" Hotch demanded Alexander outside as they listened to the recording live due to Garcia's hacking skills into Spencer’s phone.

"She has a plan... I hope." He said, hopefully.

——————————————————————————————————

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. The gun." She nodded.

"You don’t wanna phone a friend?"

"What friends? I’m a violent antisocial tomboy who could’ve graduated high school by age nine if I wanted." She asked, "The gun.” She put on a mocking tone with a mocking pout, “You do know how to use it, don't you, old timer? They did have guns when you were growing up right?”

He pulled the trigger and a few bubbles came out. Zoe couldn't help but try to catch one like when she was a child but they all popped.

"I know a real gun when I see one." Zoe said.

"None of the others did." 

"Well, they didn't grow up around firearms and violence like I did." Zoe said, sassily.

——————————————————————————————————

The BAU team breathed out a breath of relief.

“Good call. Good call.” Alexander breathed, his hand on his heart. She was going to give him a heart attack.

——————————————————————————————————

"Well, this has been very interesting. I look forward to the court case and hearing what a shitty dad you were to your kids. I rather enjoy seeing the looks on remorseful serial killers' faces when they see the trauma they've inflicted on their families or the looks on the abusive parents' faces when they realize their abuse contributed to their child becoming a serial killer." She said, she thumped her hands against the table in a rhythmic way and pretended like she was going to leave... purely for humiliating him more with her superior intellect.

One may think it’s cockiness and arrogance, but it was just fact and the benefit of constantly being underestimated.

"Just before you go, did you figure it out... which one’s the good bottle?

"Yep." And then she smirked, "Child's play. Noble effort though.” She said her first last name with a bit of an accent between South British and Scottish like her dad’s accent.

——————————————————————————————————

"That's the word. We're going in." Alexander said and was the first through the door.

"Does Noble seem a little off?" Morgan asked Hotch.

"Off?"

"A bit more... neurotic?" Spencer added.

"More off and neurotic than usual?" Hotch deadpanned, as he knew and understood why, and then headed inside after Alexander.

——————————————————————————————————

"Well, which one, then? Which one would you have picked, just so I know whether I could have beaten you?"

Zoe knew what he was doing. Trying to goad her into proving how smart she was. But she wasn't that arrogant. She faked arrogance sometimes but she was rather modest about her intelligence compared to how she could be. She only acted like that to take arrogant people down a peg.

"Come on. Play the game."

Zoe slowly walked back to behind the chair but made no effort to sit back down, not even glancing at the pills.

"Really, what do you think?" He asked, standing up and approaching the young woman, "Can you beat me? Are you clever enough to bet your life? What's the point of being clever, if you can't prove it?"

The door burst open with everyone (minus Spencer who wasn't authorized to have a gun at the moment due to his terrible aim) pointing their guns at Keller.

"Ian Keller! FBI!"

"How?"

"Did it not occur to you that I went missing and no one bothered to call." Zoe asked as she took out her phone and stopped the recording feature.

"What's that?"

"It's a recording feature, old man." She said, "I got your full confession. You wouldn't tell the police but you would tell a victim who you deemed smart enough to rival your intellect."

"But you don't know the answer."

"I'm not some egotistical detective determined to prove that I'm the smartest. I don't need to know everything. I can't. It’s impossible and I’m fine with that. But I do know that neither of those pills are poison. They're placebos. It's improbable that you win a fifty-fifty chance thirteen times but there's one common denominator. The water. You didn't create the drugs, you turned drugs into poison."

"How long did you know?" Keller asked, grimacing.

"I suspected literally the moment you showed me the first pill." She said and turned to the others, “Did y’all have fun storming the castle?”

"Ian Keller, you're under arrest." Hotch said as he handcuffed the man.

BANG! CRASH!

A bullet went through a nearby door window and hit Keller in the shoulder. 

Zoe spun around to catch a glimpse of the shooter, a man dressed in all black except two slits for the eyes.

Her memory flashed back to her childhood. Twelve years old and she had a gun in her face. She glared up at him with no fear in her eyes.

Zoe leapt into action, she opened her mini first aid kit around her waist and pulled out a cloth and pressed it against the wound. 

"Spencer. Spence, come here. Press this against the wound, firmly. I'll be right back."

She bolted to the door with the bullet hole in it and raced after the man, knowing full well who he was, ignoring the screams after her.

She put up quite the chase, moving with aggression and strength like a bear but also grace and speed like a wolf.

"Stop! You son of a bitch!" She shouted as she cornered him and he turned the gun on the for once in her life unarmed young woman but she showed no fear, just as she had before.

"I see you haven't changed, Hermosa."

This simple Spanish nickname sent chills down her spine and made her freeze up in fear as echoes of various Spanish nicknames of endearment stirred in her head.

"Zoe!" Hotch's voice shouted and she turned to look at him for ten seconds before he entered, "Where'd the shooter go?"

She looked back but he was gone, "He-he was right here."

"Did you get a good look at him or the mask?"

"No." She lied. There wasn’t any point anyways. She ran past him and back to the room with the bleeding body. She was a medical doctor after all.

"Zoe, I know I have the title of doctor, but I am not a medical one." Spencer said, worryingly.

"Yeah, yeah. Move it. Alright, Keller, are you awake? Keller, I’m going to have to pack the wound but, I'm not sure if I can give you dilaudid so this is going to hurt. A lot. Spencer, apply pressure while I get the gauze.”

Spencer did so as she pulled her medical kit out and she pulled out some hemostatic gauze and pulled on some rubber gloves on her hands.

“Have you ever done this before?” Spencer asked.

“Uh, do those blood training dummies count? She asked, “I’ve shot a few people, does that count.”

“No!”

“Hush!” She turned back to Keller. “Ready, on three, one…” Then she plunged her middle and pointer finger into the wound with professional precision.

“AHHH! What happened to three!?” Keller shouted.

“Quiet! No serial killers talking allowed!” Zoe shouted back at him.

She felt from the source of the pulsating of the wound—the area where the wound was bleeding the most from and applied pressure to ease the bleeding as she took the gauze with her other hand and replaced the spot her fingers her at and she continued to feel the gauze into the wound as Keller screamed in pain, she fed it into all corners, switching fingers to act as a guide until it was full and she applied pressure on the excess of gauze against the wound until the ambulance arrived.

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe was sitting on the back of the ambulance as they put the shock blanket around her again, she raised her hands in question as Hotch and Alexander approached.

“Why have I got this blanket? They keep putting this blanket on me.” She asked.

“Yeah, it’s for shock.” Alexander responded.

“I know what it’s for, I’m a medical doctor. I saved that horrible man’s life.” Zoe said. “I’m not in shock.”

“Yeah, but the press wanna take photographs.” Hotch deadpanned and she huffed in annoyance.

"So, the shooter. No sign?"

"No. Must've cleared off before you could get anything to identify him with." Hotch said.

"Sorry." She said and changed the subject, "Are you going to yell at me for going rogue? The profile said he wouldn't talk to the police—he'd want to brag about it when he thought it was on his terms but only to someone he felt was as intelligent as he was and had better luck with their gifts than he did. And he called me and told me he would drive off and kill more people if I refused to go with him or tell anyone, besides when it comes to me, Dad's not exactly... subtle. Besides, unless I got his confession, there was only circumstantial evidence."

“That’s an understatement.” Hotch muttered and he sat next to her on the ambulance platform, "It was... quick-thinking. I'm aware of your impulsiveness."

"I would hope so. You've known me since I was ten and I'm ADHD and Cyclothymic. You'd be a pretty bad profiler." Zoe said.

"And I know especially with what happened four years ago..."

"Four years, two months, and twenty days." She said, her voice broke slightly.

"You were brave to do so. Not a lot of people who were kidnapped for eight months could've let him take you and with what happened a few months ago.”

Zoe huffed again and fidgeted uncomfortably at the mention.

"I'm not a victim. I mean, I am but I don't want to just be just a victim anymore. I want people to see me as what I am. A fighter. A survivor. My fear doesn't matter when others are on the line. Same reason, I'm going by only Valdez for now. I don't want to be seen as the daughter of two of the co-founders of the BAU, I want to be seen for me. I don't want people assuming I only got this part because of my parents. The only reason I'm so successful at nineteen is because of nepotism. I want to prove myself first and then I'll tell Spencer, Garcia, JJ, and Morgan. I promise."

"You grew up a strong woman, Zoe. I didn't know your mother but I think she'd be proud." Hotch said.

"No, I think she'd blame me for not finding Zarah." Zoe muttered.

"Hey, we'll find your sister. Contrary to what Strauss thinks, we never stopped looking. It's the least we could do since you made the BAU the way it is today."

"Thanks. So am I an official member of the team?"

"Considering Spencer won't shut up about how knowledgeable you are and bunch of other words I don’t really understand? I think he and your dad combined would annoy me to death if I didn't."

——————————————————————————————————

Zoe was talking to Spencer and Morgan when a deputy slipped her a folded piece of paper.

"What's this?"

"Some guy requested I give it to you." He said, shrugging.

Zoe unfolded the paper and read it. Her body language didn't give much away but it was clear she was unnerved by this.

"What is it?"

"Uh, nothing." She said, crumbling the note and pocketing it. "Just some stranger's number. Must've been someone with the press. I-I gotta speak with... Agent Noble." 

"Are you sure?" Spencer asked, stopping her as she tried to go to Alexander.

"Yeah."

"You seem... a little unnerved."

"That's just the shock. I'm in shock! Look, I've got a blanket!" Zoe said and brandished the sides of the blanket as if to prove her point and she walked over to Alexander.

"That is one strange little bird." Morgan said to Spencer.

"I like her." Spencer smiled.

Alexander turned to Zoe once he saw her approaching and noticed the somber look on her face, "What happened now?"

She nodded so he would walk with her, she was quiet for a few moments, "He's been watching me."

"Well, you're still in danger while you're in Boston." Alexander fretted. “You’ll always be in danger while you’re in Boston.”

"I’m always in danger period. But he won't hurt me." She sighed.

"How do you know?"

"Because I do." Zoe said, sternly.

"But..."

"Daddy, please. I suppressed those memories for a reason. And one day I will have to uncover them so we can catch him but now's not the time. I just know, okay." Zoe pleaded. "We're leaving tomorrow morning. As far as you're concerned, I'm just a bargaining chip for your cooperation."

"Zoe, angel..."

"Dad, I'm fine." She said but she was lying. She's not sure there was ever a time in her life where she's said that and truly meant it.

——————————————————————————————————

The next morning, as Zoe was packing up the room, she received a package from a delivery man who seemed rattled but left at once.

"Okay." She said, passing that off and she set the package on the bed and opened it and pulled back the paper wrapped around it and she flinched. 

The box had a bouquet of blood-splattered white lilies with a card with the same words as on the note: See you soon, mi belleza.

There was a knock at the door and Hotch's voice called, "Zoe, time to check out."

"Yeah! Yeah, I'm almost done. I'm almost done packing." She called as she wrapped the flowers back up and shoved them into her suitcase.

Translations (Via Google Translate)

"pequeño" — "Little One" — Spanish

"Hermosa" — "Beautiful" — Spanish

"Mi belleza" — "My beauty" — Spanish

Notes:

Inspired by Sherlock pilot episode: “A Study in Pink”

Richie Rousseau’s face claim is KJ Apa with his red hair for Archie Andrews from Riverdale

I hope the foreshadowing wasn’t too heavy in this.

Gif Sources:

Crowley: @wearecrowley

*Any suggestions for songs to attach to this story?*

Extreme Aggressor

[freezerbnuuy]

Act 2:9 - Let This Be a Lesson (Page 1)

LORE | CHARACTERS | ABOUT / CHAPTERS / WARNINGS

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Oskar

This morning, I bravely tested Violeta's theory…and left the curtains open when I heard the drumming of rain on the window. I haven't had much chance yet to buy better curtains for the house, but thankfully, today is cloudy. It hits me harder than I thought it might, to properly see a sliver of daylight again after being shrouded in darkness for so long. I stare into the rainclouds until the outdoor light starts to hurt my eyes.

It's a little strange getting used to a much smaller home, and a much less fancy one- but I'll get used to it, I suppose. 

There's a shy knock at the door. That can't be the Annorin boy, can it? I expected someone like him to bash the door down. I turn the handle and he's standing in the doorway, sopping wet, puppy-eyed, like an orphaned child looking for a place to spend the night. 

"Good afternoon, sir," he says, in a sophisticated Henford accent. I almost pity him for having travelled so long in the pouring rain, and let him through the door. He scuffs his feet on the doormat and attempts to rearrange his hair. He gives me a bug-eyed look for a second before averting his gaze to the doormat.

"I hope I'm not late."

 "Not at all," I reply, and he flinches as I speak. Is this really the son of Samuel Annorin? The man seemed stern and proud- nothing like this boy.

I can understand first-day nerves for something like this, but this is just ridiculous. He's looking at me like I'm holding a sword to his throat.

I gesture to the seats by the fireplace, and he awkwardly lowers himself onto the seat like he thinks it's going to bite him on the rear.

Eli slides the indenture across the table to me. His signature is awkward and jittery compared to his father's fancy handwriting, and compared to my vague scribble. If all goes to plan, Elijah will be my apprentice for the next six years- a fair chunk of his young life, and a blink of an eye for me.

"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Elijah."

"A-ah. Yes, you too, Herr Nivelheim-"

"Oskar will do," I reply, and he gives me a frantic nod. "So, if all goes to plan, you'll be here for the next six years, helping me with my trade. It's been a very long time since I've done anything substantial, and I know your father has a few of my family's pieces in his home- you'll be helping revive a long-lost treasure. As well as a little weekly pay, I will also give you a fraction of anything I earn off the pieces we sell." 

"Oh, really? That's good." He puts his hands in his lap. "Can I ask how long I'll be working for and on what days?"

"No more than ten hours a day, Monday to Friday. We'll probably do more later on in the day. You have the weekends off. Your father has already taught you literacy and basic arithmetic, which is helpful- I'm terrible with numbers and my handwriting is awful-"

"What? Ten hours?!"

Of course the son of such a rich man has zero work ethic.

"Think yourself lucky, Elijah. When I was your age as apprentice to my father, I was working twelve hours a day, seven days a week, without complaint. You likely won't be working that long every day. These old bones can only do so much, you know."

"You don't look that old."

"The compliment is appreciated," I reply. "Anyhow, I ought to lay down some ground rules- No smoking in the house, no drinking in the house, no public houses, no getting married, no pets, and if you do happen to meet a nice young lady, don't think about bringing her back here.

No opening the curtains during the day unless it's completely cloudy- I... find bright sunlight terribly distracting when it's glaring through the windows. Oh- and the basement is off-limits- that is where I store all of my materials. Is that understood?"

"I think so, Herr Nivelheim-"

"And a new rule- no formalities. Don't think of me as your master, Elijah- think of me as your teacher. That said, it only seems right that we get to know each other a little. I'm originally from Windenburg, and lived somewhere remote before moving here very recently. I'm soon to be-"

I almost say one-hundred and sixty...I try not to think about it, how he'll react when he inevitably figures it out...

"-thirty-seven years old. Outside of woodworking, I enjoy reading and I somewhat know how to play a piano. Now it's your turn."

If this boy can spit out a whole sentence without crying, then I'll be pleasantly surprised.

[ashs-random-writing]

Mushroom Circles

Chapter Twelve

Ao3

—

When an accidental blood sacrifice leaves him in a strange new world, Roman has to hide

Logan would like to know what has been eating all the fruit

—

Roman, against his moral compass, was actually quite happy at the appearance of another human.

Not that he was happy with the how, the why, or any of that stuff, but… it was nice to finally see another person. It had been a while since he’d been able to properly talk to someone.

His new friend looked like they’d just robbed a hot topic, but who was he to judge based on clothing? To be quite honest, he knew he didn’t look very well presented after (how long had he been there?) a while of being in this realm

When he had been left alone with Janus, he’d not been excited. He knew that Janus hadn’t done any actual life-threatening things in the past few weeks. But he also knew that the main cause of that was the other two faeries watching him often

When he’d heard Logan leave the house, and Janus walked into the room, he’d forced himself not to freeze up. Despite the fact that Janus had not been putting his life in danger for amusement recently, Roman had still been subjected to a few smaller misdeeds since.

Janus liked to mess with him. Liked to poke and prod him and occasionally push him over because apparently it was funny, how much power they held over him, but they only really did it when the other two were out, because they told Janus off for it.

Roman had stopped reacting. He figured his lack of reaction had bored them, considering the way they’d stopped bothering him quicker than usual. Who knew that pretending not to be scared could do such good?

Patton and Logan were nice, but Roman was much more grateful for the way they kept Janus from hurting him. When Janus messed with him, he felt far too much like a mouse that was being toyed with by a cat

Now, it seemed that that cat (that horrible, snakey cat) had brought home another prey to toy with.

Roman spoke quietly to Virgil, who seemed to want to know as much as possible about their situation (Roman couldn’t blame him for that- he’d have loved to have someone to tell him what was going on)

“Yeah, so there’s those two,” he pointed out “that’s Logan, they’re nice, but, uh, a little hard to read,” Virgil nodded beside him.

“And the uh, snake one?” They said, only stuttering a little, clearly still terrified overall

Roman felt for them, and he nodded “That’s Janus. They’re my least favourite, but the other two keep them in check, so, not as bad as they used to be,”

Virgil scooted back slightly, away from the faeries as they looked at the two humans.

Roman kept his demeanour in check; Virgil had much more of a right than him to freak out at this point, and Roman didn’t want to fall apart in front of him. He needed to be reassuring.

“Y-you, uh, you mentioned a third?”

Roman drew his eyes away from the faeries

“Oh, yeah… um, there’s Patton as well. They’re nice, but they can be a little overwhelming. I’m pretty sure that this is Patton’s house, actually..” he mused quietly

He hadn’t really been conscious when he’d been brought here, but it seemed logical that he’d be brought to Patton’s house, since it was the closest to his tunnel.

Virgil stared at him a few seconds “How?”

Roman looked back with a tilted head

“Hm?”

“How are you so calm?”

Roman pursed his lips

“I suppose if you’d really like to know,” he started quietly, bringing his hand to the back of his neck sheepishly “I’m not. I’ve just gotten better at hiding it,”

He still felt his heart racing every time one of the giants looked at him. He still couldn’t stop the mile-a-minute thoughts when he was carefully picked up, as though he was made of extremely fragile glass. Especially not when Janus was involved.

He and Virgil talked for a little while, before the sound of the door alerted them to Patton’s return. Roman watched the two other faeries, look at each other before hurrying towards the door, likely to explain their new find. Roman informed Virgil of everything he could understand from what they were overhearing (it wasn’t much, but still)

Patton had walked in with wide eyes, and thinly veiled excitement and perhaps concern. Roman knew firsthand how overwhelming it could be to be faced with three giants, so he didn’t comment on the way Virgil had frozen up behind him, or the way he could hear Virgil’s breathing speed up ever so slightly

——

Patton hadn’t known what to expect when he’d left Logan and Janus alone for the day. But this was certainly not on the list

He’d only gone to take care of plants for an old friend, he’d never expected for him to come home to the chaos that he did. Logan and Janus had rushed towards the door as he entered; Patton was almost expecting them to tell him about an argument they’d had

But for them to tell him that they’d found yet another tiny person (and that “Janus scared them quite badly when he found them”), and that Logan had found quite a big discovery on what exactly they were, and why Tiny had not shared their name

Patton didn’t have time to read any part of the old-looking book that Logan had shown him, before he was ushered into the kitchen to the table. The new tiny person (or “human”, as Logan had informed him) was even smaller than Tiny, almost hiding behind them with wide eyes as he approached

Patton was careful not to move so suddenly, or not to be too loud. He approached, trying to suppress his natural reaction of seeing something small and cute and trying to scoop it up to hug. He tried to hide his upset for the way they froze up, the way Tiny used to.

They were slightly paler than Tiny, though he wasn’t sure if that was natural or because of fear. He hoped it was natural.

He couldn’t find any words to say. He knew they wouldn’t understand him. After a few minutes of just watching them, letting them realise he wasn’t a threat (it was a bit like when he found a baby bird) and slowly calm down.

Logan carefully led him towards the living room, to where the big, old book was sitting. Logan flipped to a page near the end, and pointed him to a paragraph about names. Control.

Patton swallowed down his deep discomfort at the idea of controlling the little guys. Yeah, they’d have to stick with nicknames for now.

—

@betamash @a-chilly-pepper @da3dm

[the-knightmare]

Rudy's Trick (Louise's Treat)

Happy Halloween! Here is my fic for the @roudiseshipweek Halloween warm up prompt cult classic/picking out costumes. I mixed the two together, and hope you enjoy:

AO3

“Come on, Rudy, the popcorns going to get cold, and I’ve listened to the Halloween theme at least five times already,” Louise called.

She had popped the bag of kernels, drizzled a liberal dose of butter and nacho cheese seasoning over the final product, and set up the DVD minutes ago. All the while Rudy was, as he has told her before disappearing down the hall, putting the ‘final touches’ on his costume for tomorrow’s party.

He had not told her what it was, even after she had pestered him all week. Not even after Louise had promised to tell him her what her, Tina, and Gene were dressing up as before they showed up to Zeke’s Halloween party. And so, Louise resorted to guessing. Each time Rudy just smiled and even if she guessed correctly, he wouldn’t tell.

“If you don’t hurry up, I’m playing the movie without you.”

“Okay, okay,” Rudy said, suddenly behind her and making her jump, “careful, you almost dropped the popcorn.”

Dramatically clutching her chest to hide just how much he had scared her in the growing dark of the evening, Louise twisted around to look up her boyfriend.

Rudy hadn’t been regular-sized since grade nine, which happened to be when Louise had stopped growing. She was the shortest Belcher, which she could live with if she weren’t also the shortest in her friend group.

“Geez, Rudy, way to sneak up on a girl. Is your costume Michael Myers or something?”

Laughing, Rudy shook his head as he sat on the couch next to her.

“I’ve never seen Halloween, or any other slashers, you know that.”

She did. Which is why they were correcting that now. Movie nights had been a staple long before they had started dating halfway through grade twelve. This being their first Halloween as a couple, Louise was determined to start Rudy’s education on classic horror movies.

“And honestly, that’s a shame.”

Neither mentioned how that was technically untrue, as Rudy had been one of the kids traumatized by a certain deli zombie flick back in fourth grade. It was something they didn’t talk about.

Hitting play. Louise settled into the couch. The bowl of popcorn was emptied before Laurie spies Michael Myers watching her from behind drying sheets, leaving an empty space between them. Louise looked at it from the corner of her eye.

“You know,” she started, “if you get scared, I’ll protect you.”

Rudy glanced up from the screen and flashed her a smile, and only said:

“I’ll remember that.

And didn’t move an inch.

Louise turned back to the movie. Watching as Annie got strangled in the garage. She wasn’t scared, she’d seen plenty of scarier movies, but Rudy seemed far away in the dark.

Without making a sound, she moved a hair closer. She kept doing this, shifting just enough to not be noticed. Her plan at getting closer without him nothing was working. Until:

“Oh man.”

Rudy had been silent most of the movie, but Laurie stabbing Michael with knitting needles got a reaction. Which would have been fine, funny even as his uneven reaction to someone being stabbed in the eye, except for Lousie’s position. She had managed to get so close that his mumble sounded much louder in her ear.

Jumping across the couch, Louise felt her face flush. Twice. That was twice tonight that she had been startled by Rudy. A guy so unscary that birds didn’t even fly away when he approached.

Laughing, Rudy turned a lamp on.

The rest of the movie passed with Louise and Rudy on the opposite sides of the couch. Occasionally, Rudy would look at her and giggle. She would respond by scowling with her tongue out in mock indignation.

When the credits finally rolled and the eerie Halloween theme filled the silence, Louise was left to think of what to say next. She was just about to suggest another scary movie when Rudy beat her to the punch.

“My mom won’t be home for another few hours. If you’re interested, we can watch Hocus Pocus next?”

“That’s not even scary,” Louise argued.

“But it’s a Halloween cult classic,” Rudy said, “and we can cuddle, I was missing it a little during the last movie.”

Louise smiled, then quickly turned it into a smirk. Even though they had been dating for almost a year now, and had been friends for much longer, she refused to acknowledge how soft she had gotten when it came to Rudy.

“Well, in that case, sure. Why not? I’ve never actually seen it anyway.”

Rudy clutched his chest dramatically, “you’ve been trying to educate me, when it seems it’s you who’s been deprived of true Halloween must-watches.”

Rolling her eyes, Louise scooted towards him on the couch.

“If you count baby movies as a must-watch, then sure, educate me.”

He assured her it was not a baby movie as he changed the discs. Settling back onto the couch, Rudy didn’t even give her a chance to move before he pulled her into his arms. Louise felt the warmth of his chest against her back and relaxed without a fight. She only squirmed a little, and that was more to settle herself better than defiance.

“Much better,” Rudy said, his voice a low vibration along her spine.

This time, the movie was watched with more of their usual chattering. Quips about the Sanderson Sister’s thinking a sprinkler system was going to kill them and how cool an immortal talking cat would be passed between them with ease.

The next day, she, Tina, and Gene showed up in their costumes, a medley of Studio Ghibli characters, to Zeke’s a little early. They had brought sliders their dad had made, and Tina had roped them into setting up. Louise had only agreed because she liked Zeke, and it seemed like a good idea to be nice to her future brother-in-law.

Zeke, dressed as Ashitaka to match Tina’s Mononoke, had promised her the ability to setup a haunted hallway equipped with all of the affects he and his cousins had put together.

She also got two full sized candy bars of their choice for the help. Which Louise wouldn’t say no to, especially when her Chihiro costume had so many pockets. Who knew working in a hot spring for spirits would have better pocket options than most regular clothes?

Gene, dressed as Howl, had been promised full control over the music. Something he was taking seriously, with a small DJ station that consisted of a laptop and speakers’ setup in a corner.

Alex and Courtney arrived soon after them. Courtney insisted on adding some songs to Gene’s playlist, which devolved into the old argument of her music major versus his natural talents and composition schooling.

“But you guys always come up with something great together, why not work together?”

Alex’s appeal was just another part in the typical argument that formed the trio’s friendship.

Louise only laughed as she passed them on her way to get Zeke’s approval on her hallway setup, only to groan when she turned the corner. Wrapped in Tina’s embrace, Zeke looked a little busy. Which meant that, with only ten minutes until more guests were supposed to arrive, that her handywork would have to do.

It also meant that she would be able to finally see Rudy’s costume.

Except he didn’t show up. At least, not in the first few minutes like he normally did for parties. Not ten minutes late, which he would smile and say made him fashionable late.  Jimmy Jr., Andy and Ollie, Kaylee, Susmita, Henry, Arnold, and the rest of the usual suspects filed through the door, but no sign of Rudy.

After twenty minutes, she found Millie and Jessica, dressed as Norman Bates and Mothman, in the corner chatting about horror movies, and joined them.

“Hey, if you wanna take a look at this, we got an illusionary visionary in the house tonight, the Amazing Rudy, and he’s kind enough to perform a trick as a treat!”

Zeke’s voice cut though the sound of conversation and music, catching Louise’s attention at the mention of her boyfriend.

“Tonight, I have one trick, a costume change from man to beast!”

Rudy’s voice had his customary magicians’ cadence, and Louise found herself smiling as she made her way towards the front of the crowd to see. It was almost like he was waiting for her to be in sight before he continued, but Louise knew that timing was a big part of an act, and it wasn’t for her benefit.

But her smile grew even more when she finally caught a glimpse of him. He looked a little silly in the green-black wig, but Rudy’s Haku costume was good. She wondered which of her siblings had told him about their costumes, since she hadn’t revealed it.

“I stand before you as a simple boy, but what you don’t know is,” Rudy raised his arms in a flourish, “my true identity is that of a river spirit!”

Shocked silence, followed by applause and cheers filled the room as Rudy dropped his arms and his costume suddenly changed into a green and white dragon, complete with a detailed mask and horns over his head.

Louise’s jaw dropped. She’d helped with some of his tricks over the years, but this was the best one yet.

“Wow, that was so cool…”

“How’d you do that?”

“…think I saw something like that on YouTube, do you follow…?”

Louise waited until the cluster of people who had swarmed around Rudy dissipated before she approached.

“Some trick, Rudes,” she said, catching his attention.

“Thanks, I made it all myself. I even got to build this cool dragon head hat to go in my collection.”

“Yeah, it is cool,” Louise agreed, “so how did you come up with the idea for your costume?”

Rudy flushed, rubbing his arm, and looking away. He stuttered out the start of an answer, but Louise just punched his arm with a laugh.

“Easy, Rudes, it’s fine. I know I said no couples’ costumes, but this makes me reconsider that. Especially when you can do cool transformations.”

After that, Jimmy Jr. pulled the attention to the dance floor with a dance-off that Gene’s sound effects only made better.

“Hey, you want climb on my back, and I can carry you like in the movie across the dance floor?” Rudy asked, after they watched the Pesto twins spin around.

“Hell yeah!”

Louise launched herself on Rudy’s back and cackled as he took off across the room. They burst into laughter after making their second crossing, Louise sliding off his back to lean against him.

The rest of the night was spent eating treats, dancing with their friends, and watching people get their pants scared off by Louise’s haunted hallway. In all, she would count it as one of the best Halloween party’s she’d gone too.

Later that night, after her shower, Louise returned to her room and saw that a photo was laying on her pillow and remembered someone had brought a polaroid camera. Picking it up, Louise smiled as she saw what it was: her, eyes closed, laughing, as Rudy carried her around on his back.